|
It is this newspaper clipping with Al's miniatures in the background
from a show that he had at Eastern Montana College that gives me
hope that some of these and others still exist. |
Day 10 (12/25/14)
I have a few more stories from people who crossed paths with
Al. Considering that he died in 1998 at 89 years old I am glad to have come
across as many people who knew him as I have. As I have stated before, there
seems to be a certain amount of press about his journeys, but I have had to
rely totally on personal contacts for his artwork. I am still holding out hope
that somewhere there is a collection of his work, including the sketches and
watercolors that he did on his journey down the Yellowstone, Missouri and
Mississippi rivers. In the mean time I will continue to post what I can get. In
many ways I like the personal nature of these pieces anyway. The next person I
heard from was Shawn Cramer who wrote:
Hopefully, I have attached the pencil
sketches Al Urness did of my Grandparents, Andrew and Orvella Christensen in
Glasgow, MO in 1970. My Grandpa worked on the Missouri River for the
Corps of Engineers. He started his career working on the Ft. Peck dam in
Glasgow, MT. He and Grandma moved down the river before finally settling down
in Glasgow, Missouri around 1940. Grandpa retired from the Corps in 1970, the
year these drawings were made. I am not sure how he made Mr. Urness'
acquaintance. Grandpa passed away in 2000 at the age of 95, but I will ask my
Grandmother if she remembers. She is still alive and doing pretty well at 98.
Sincerely,
Shawn Cramer
|
Orvella Christensen by Al Urness |
|
Andrew Christensen by Al Urness |
Then in April of this year I received this from Janis
Walker:
In
1955 or 1956, my Daddy was fishing on the Mississippi and saw Mr. Al coming
down the river. We were told that because of the current of the flooded river,
he seemed to be in trouble. Daddy helped him come ashore and brought him to our
home in Covington, TN. He stayed with us for several weeks in which time he
made pencil drawings of my Mom, Dad, Great Grandmother and all of us eight
kids. Over the years he would come back to visit us for a week or so. When I
was about 11, we got our horse. He brought me a blanket from Wyoming and also
subscribed me to the Western Horseman magazine. He was loved by all of us, like
a favorite uncle. My Mom died in 1972 and he came to visit several years after
her death. My step-mother made it very clear to him that she didn't care for him
(she didn't care for us either) and he never returned. He gave one of my
sisters a painting of Devil's Tower and so it became like a sacred place to all
of us. In 2008 my younger sister and I made a trip out there and when we read
the story behind Devil's Tower, it became even more so. You see, there are
seven of us sisters and we have one brother. He also painted a picture for each
of us, of the house we grew up in, in Covington. He is loved and missed by all
of us.
I of course had to look up the legends of Devils Tower after
this of which there are several but I am sure this is the one Ms. Walker is
talking about. It is a Kiowa legend of Devils Tower:
Eight children were there at play,
seven sisters and their brother. Suddenly the boy was struck dumb; he trembled
and began to run upon his hands and feet. His fingers became claws, and his
body was covered with fur. Directly there was a bear where the boy had been.
The sisters were terrified. They ran with the bear after them. They came to the
stump of a great tree, and the tree spoke to them. It bade them climb upon it,
and as they did so it began to rise into the air. The bear came to kill them,
but they were just beyond its reach. It reared against the tree and scored the
bark all around with its claws. The seven sisters were borne into the sky, and
they became the stars of the Big Dipper.
It is the stories from these people who have inspired me.
The more I hear of his life the more I want to know. Perhaps it is time to throw
out a few more lines or revisit some old ones. At any rate I am sure there will
be more to come in the adventures of Al Urness