This article is written in bad taste, consume at your own risk
By Bob Ford Special to
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This is a tale of survival.
Names will remain the same so you will know who the idiots are.
At what extremes would you be willing to go to stay alive? Does integrity, religion, pain tolerance or friendships come into play? When do animal instincts take over from human decency … Alfred Packer knows.
Packer was an ex-Union soldier suffering from epilepsy who decided to head west in search of gold just like a wave of dreamers did in the mid-1800’s.
A new gold strike had been rumored near Breckenridge, Colorado and Packer was on it, heading East from Utah to a hopeful find when he met up with 20 other prospectors on the Spanish Trail. Joining the group, Packer pretended to be an expert guide, he was anything but.
The winter of 1874 was brutal, with snows and wind that forced most to hunker down all season long, but not Packer. Even though the prospectors would soon become lost, frozen and starving, they were saved after stumbling upon the winter camp of Ute Indian Chief Ouray who, thank the prospector gods, was welcoming.
After recouping for weeks, Packer, against the Chief’s warnings, wanted to press on.
Packer, along with five fellow gold-fevered men: Miller, Humphrey, Noon, Bell and Swan, could not wait. They planned to hike over the San Juan Mountains on an estimated 14 day trek to Los Pinos Indian Agency close to present day Montrose, Colorado. The other 15 loathed Packer and didn’t want anything to do with him. He was an arrogant liar and most thought a thief. They would meat up with their friends later.
Sixty five days after leaving Ouray’s winter camp Packer appeared at the Agency, walking out of the woods … alone!
The winter had been epic, but he had bizarre tales to tell that made no sense. He professed frostbite and was abandoned, lost his way, became snow blind, one of the others went mad …alright, but where were they?
First of all, he gained weight and looked fit, while supposedly starving for weeks? Later in town, Packer spent money like he’d already struck it rich, pulling cash out of several different wallets he carried. I didn’t say he was smart.
The pressure was on as officials pressed for the truth. Parker folded under questioning like Mexican fajitas.
Yes, the men had gotten lost, became ravenous and desperate. After several starving unsettling nights, each man stared at one another. Miller, the heavier set one, was the first to go.
Leaning over the fire for warmth, the big fellow was hit with a hatchet in the back of the head, dying instantly, he was then butchered. Turns out Miller was more big boned than fat.
Now, there is a well known “axiom” among authors that when you’re writing about cannibalism, as we do so often, especially if it happened more than 150 years ago, you can be funny, OK!
After a couple days, Swan was next, it was the same get warm by the fire ploy … whack! Memoirs say Swan didn’t taste like a duck.
Several freezing weeks went by that spelled doom for Noon and Humphrey. Now Bell and Packer were the only ones left. Packer said they promised each other not to eat one another, but you know Alfred had a big appetite.
The sad thing was they were only a few miles from the agency.
Once the prospectors from the other group saw Packer, with no sign of their friends, after supposedly starving for months but looking plump, they knew. Packer had committed the unbelievable.
In the spring the bodies were found and Packer was charged with murder and desecration of a corpse. Turns out there are no laws against outright cannibalism. Who knew!
Alfred Packer stood trial and was found guilty, sentenced to 40 years in the famed Canon City Prison.
He gained parole in 1901 and lore has it, changed his name to Adkins, moved to Kansas City and entered the American Royal’s first ever barbecue contest, placing third with his unique tasting brisket.
Of course Hollywood loved the story and produced “The Legend of Alfred Packer,” in 1980 starring no one you’ve ever heard of.
My favorite though is the 1993 way off Broadway production of “Cannibal! The Musical” with songs like, “What’s for dinner, Earl,” and “I’d like to order carry out!”
OK, enough already, next week I promise a story you can read to your grandmother about kittens and puppy dogs, or what some may call … appetizers!
