When a place has a name like Canyon Diablo you can only assume it earned that moniker for a reason, especially when it looks almost as sinister as it sounds. The Arizona chasm is large and seems to appear out of nowhere, the former site of a railroad town that boasts stories filled to the brim with every character of old west drama. Yes, its origin is unusual, a small community that came about in December 1881 when railroad crews moving west from Albuquerque had to stop laying tracks because they ran into the massive schism in the earth that they could not cross until a bridge was built. But many of the other stories of Canyon Diablo, the whiskey-and-blood-soaked streets, the air thick with violence, the graveyard that simply ran out of room, were all fabrications penned by a novelist long after the inhabitants of the fabled little town moved on.
There is one specific tale from Canyon Diablo though, that is true. And it is just as gruesome as any of the myths and rumors.
Canyon Diablo circa 1890. Image via public domain.
It was after 1am on April 8th 1905 but the Wigwam Saloon in Winslow, Arizona was still hopping and the liquor was flowing. Drinks may have been what was on the minds of John Shaw and William Evans when they first entered the building, but they soon shifted their attention. Their drinks were sitting untouched on the bar when the two walked over to a nearby dice table where the glitter of silver dollars caught their eyes. Their approach may have seemed innocent at first, by all accounts the men were young, in their twenties, and well dressed in suits as they walked up to the table. But, their intent became clear once they pulled their guns on the players and gave them a dire warning to cooperate. After robbing the players of over $200 they ran off into the night.
When Navajo County Sheriff Chet Houck and Deputy Pete Pemberton went looking for the thieves they might have expected an easy job. After all, the two men left a trail of coins behind them leading the sheriff and deputy straight to the railroad tracks. They followed the tracks twenty-five miles until they found themselves in Canyon Diablo. Once in the old town they found trading post operator Fred Volz and asked if he had seen the men, but they did not have to press him for any information. As they were talking to Volz the robbers began walking right up to them.
The men exchanged a few words but soon guns were drawn and bullet-laced smoke took over the scene. The combat was close, Shaw and Houck were only feet from each other, and it proved to be Shaw’s undoing. Twenty-one total shots were fired but at one point Shaw turned away from his opponent and that is when Sheriff Houck put the fatal bullet in his head. When the fight was over there were injuries and close calls all around, but Shaw was the only one killed in the shootout. Volz, still inside the trading post, provided a simple pine box for the body and the outlaw was quickly buried near where he fell.
Word of the encounter traveled fast and by the next night it was circulating around the Wigwam Saloon where the story was heard by members of an Arizona cattle outfit stopping along their route. Going head-to-head with law enforcement was nothing new to the men, but what was truly shocking to them was that Shaw died without ever getting to enjoy the drink he ordered at the bar.
This was unacceptable. Fifteen of the cowboys stood up, grabbed whiskey bottles, and got on the next train to Canyon Diablo.
Volz may have still been shaken from the gunfight the night before when he was suddenly woken up to the sound of banging on his door. What he found outside was a mob of cowboys armed with liquor bottles and demanding information about Shaw’s grave. Then they told Volz the purpose of their visit. Shaw never got to have his drink. They had the liquor…now they needed Shaw.
As disturbed as Volz may have been at what the mob was telling him he eventually gave in and handed over the shovels they demanded. He also handed them a camera stating that pictures would help make sure the dead man was identified correctly.
The plan was simple, dig up Shaw and share his final drink with him. As reported later on by cowboy Lucien Creswell. “We stopped at the depot and had a few more drinks and then we went and dug the grave open with the shovels…” Amazingly, despite his violent end Shaw was in remarkably good shape, “looking very natural, his head not busted open.” Once they laid eyes on Shaw laying peacefully in his makeshift grave the scene became much more serious. Wagon boss J.D. Rogers instructed his men to take him out of the ground, ordering “Let’s get him out. Let’s give him a drink and put him away proper. Somebody can say a prayer, which wasn’t done when they shoved him into that hole.”
Shaw in his casket. Image via truewestmagazine.com. Courtesy Arizona Historical Society; John Shaw Collection.
Two men jumped into the grave, lifted his body to the waiting hands, and propped him up against a fence that was situated next to another grave. His eyes were open, his lifeless face was frozen in a smile, and the men put the bottles up to his teeth pouring the whiskey down the dead man’s throat. Shaw finally got to have his last drink.
After the liquor was gone the men solemnly placed Shaw back into his coffin, rested a bottle on his chest, and removed their hats for some hasty prayers before covering his body for the final time.
Throughout the entire ceremony six photographs were taken by an unknown cowboy in attendance. When the camera was returned to Volz he unloaded the film and handed it to Creswell, instructing him to give it to Sheriff Houck upon his return to Winslow. However, cowboy Sam Case had other ideas. Case had a grudge against Sheriff Houck’s brother and along the way back to Winslow Case confronted Creswell and took the film from him stating “Houck ain’t gonna get no pictures.” From here the roll of film passed from hand to hand, carrying the story of John Shaw along with it. Finally, a month after the impromptu funeral at Canyon Diablo Case handed the roll of film to Winslow attorney “Judge” Burbidge, who then passed it along to his son Ted. The photographs would not see the light of day until years later when the film came into the possession of a man named Gladwell Richardson who wrote an article about them in a 1965 issue of Arizona Highways magazine.
Trio of photographs taken of the last drink of John Shaw. Image via truewestmagazine.com. Courtesy Arizona Historical Society; John Shaw Collection.
Today four of the photographs taken at the last drink of John Shaw belong to the Arizona Historical Society as part of their John Shaw collection. One photograph was allegedly kept by Ted Burbidge but several years after his death in 1955 the photograph went missing. Along with the Burbidge photograph, the location of the sixth image taken that bizarre morning is also unknown.
Canyon Diablo is a place filled with myths and legends of the Wild West, many of which are horrific. Although mostly debunked we have photographic proof that one of the gory stories did happen, the tale of the corpse that was dug up to have one last drink.
