THE FIRST SHERIFF OF EL PASO COUNTY - Rankin Scott Kelly

From Colorado Yesterdays, by Dora Foster, 1961

Let's hear about the first sheriff of El Paso County, Rankin Scott Kelly.

Affectionally known among his many friends as Scott Kelly without the Rankin, he was a mystery insofar as his early life was known, refusing to speak of his past before he came to Colorado. When asked about it, he would reply, "I have my reasons for not telling," and not until near the end of his life of 87 years did his friends know of his boyhood, nor of his birthplace. He refused to tell even the young woman whom he wished to marry.

Aitho there might be a few young men in that early day in Colorado City (1860) whose past histories would not bear looking into, Scott Kelly was not among them since his honesty, frankness and sincere desire to do right soon won for him the respect and admiration of all, and his fearlessness was so well recognized that he was elected to the office of county sheriff. He often said during the four years he held the office, "Indian fighting is my business".

In the social life of Colorado City, Scott Kelly was a prime favorite. Tall, slender, quite at home on the ballroom floor, his thick thatch of blond hair over a pair of keen blue eyes, the girls found him one of the best partners to be had when the fiddlers struck up the well-loved tunes for the old-fashioned quadrilles, and usually at the close of the evening the revellers cleared the floor to watch him and Mrs. Maggard do the varsouvienne.

Here we will quote from Mr. Kelly's own notes:

"I came to Colorado June 5, 1860, with a wagon train of about 50 people of whom Robert Finley was one and a long time resident of Colorado City and a surveyor of most of the early land grants in the region.

"William Booth was the wagon boss. This company was the first sawmill company south of Denver which is located at Squirrel Creek Pinery, 14 miles northeast of Colorado City. I hauled the first sawed lumber ever taken into Colorado City. I went to work at stone mason work and burned the first kiln of lime that was burned on Bear Creek. I worked at it in the summer of 1862.

"I built the stone building known now as the Stockbridge Brewery. It was built for Emil Gehrune for a dry goods and grocery. Besides that work I did freighting and teaming into the mountains and mined in Leadville. I was elected the first sheriff of El Paso County and served four years and made many trips after horse thieves. Indian fighting was my principal business in those days.

"In 1863 a man named Clark robbed the Denver bank of $70,000. The bank was run by Jim Blaine. Twelve thousand dollars was in gold bars. I captured him at Williams Camp on the Fountain about 12 he had robbed and then beaten them to death and then driven off their cattle and horses. He had with him a half-breed Negro and a Mexican.

"I had guessed that Jim would camp near a certain spring and so that night we crept to within nearly 50 feet of their camp and waited there in the bright moonlight for daylight. It gave us a chance to get pretty nervous. We waited there about three hours. We could see the three of them rolled in their blankets besides their fire. I was to take Jim while Dan took care of the other two.

"Just as the sun rose they woke. Dan was to fire when I counted three and we were both to pick off our men. We reloaded our guns fearing to trust the bullets that had been in our guns all night. The Negro got up first and went towards the horses that were picketed nearby; the Mexican started to make a fire and just as the big fellow threw up his arms and tossed back his blanket I counted three, took aim and fired, holding my gun tight, tight against my shoulder. I aimed at a spot just between his shoulders. I got him just there where I had aimed and he rolled over to one side and fell over dead.

"Dan's bullets had gone thru the Negro's heart and thru the Mexican's eye.

"We hardly dared to go to them, lying just as they fell, but we finally did. Jim's steel plate, which we found was lined with rubber, was tied to his saddle near his bed. Evidently not having been worn for several days, feeling safe I presume in that part of the country. He had nearly $2,000 on his person.

"After looking over their good supply of grub we helped ourselves to much of it, especially the bacon, as our own supply was getting low. Then we rolled all three of them over into a little arroya where there was a tiny spring.

"Coming back we stopped at several places to return to those who had not been killed some of the money that had been taken from them."

Scott Kelly never married, telling that the only girl he had ever wished to marry had married someone else, a fact that my mother and father well knew. Twenty-four years in his later life he made his home in a little cabin on a hillside in Ouray, Colo., where he had for company a cat and a cow, as well as many friends, among whom he counted the late Irving Howbert of Colorado Springs.

A few months before the opening of the Myron Stratton Home, Kelly returned from Ouray for a short visit and to ask Irving Howbert for his aid in securing for him a job in the Home, as he refused to enter on any other conditions. So thru Mr. Howbert's help he was given the position as engineer for the Home, and in the autumn of 1913 he came back to undertake that work.

That same summer while Kelly was visiting in our home he went one afternoon to sit in the South, or Alamo, Park to wait for a Canon streetcar, and there fell into a conversation with a man and his wife whowere visiting here from Houlton, Maine. Fearfully and cautiously Kelly had asked them concerning some of his old friends there in that town and finally they spoke the name of the young man whom Kelly thought he had killed so long ago. Then to Kelly's wondrous joy and relief they told him that Emitt, tho an old man, was still living there in the town and tho retired from business was in good health.

It was an excited old man who rushed home to tell mother and father of his happy discovery, that the man he had supposed he had killed was still living.

Scott's story was this:

"He had been with another boy of his own age (14) lolling on the bank of a lake one Sunday afternoon while his sister, a girl friend and the young man to whom his sister was betrothed were far out on the lake in a row boat when it suddenly capsized, spilling the three young people out into the water. The boys knew that all three of them could swim but were amazed to see the young man strike out for shore,leaving the two girls to fend for themselves. While the girls were still clinging to the overturned boat, the young man reached the bank near the two boys, only to be laid over with a blow from Kelly's fist.

"A crowd soon gathered and someone bending over the prostrate form of the young man said, 'He is dead.' Kelly fearing he knew not what, ran from the place, plunged into the nearby woods and dared not return to his home. For several days he wandered in the dense forests and finally made his way to the West, where he hoped he could keep his terrible secret and escape punishment. For years he was fearful of being sought out for murder and yet always hoping that the vastness of the great West could cover with silence his supposed crime."

While acting as engineer in the Myron Stratton Home that autumn an early freeze occurred and poor Mr. Kelly, then nearly 87, woke one morning to find many of the water pipes frozen and since he told that someone spoke sharply to him about his neglect, he dressed himself with both his suits of clothes, put on several pairs of socks and taking a cane struck out to walk to my parents' home thru about two feet of snow. A truck driver came upon him leaning against a snow bank, almost exhausted, and brought him to us. He remained in our home for a week or so, when my father persuaded him to return to the Home as an inmate. Realizing that his life was nearing its end he asked no help but said:

"Spend ho money on me. Give me only a pine box and lay me away in that. I am used to pine boxes."

But after his death the El Paso County Pioneers Association, with the kindly help of David F. Law, gave him a royal funeral service and a handsome coffin. The association purchased a lot in Evergreen Cemetery, marking his last resting place with a simple stone and the words, "Rankin Scott Kelly. Dec. 30, 1913."