Hoss Alan Blackman, einer der größten Goldsucher der Neuzeit.
Leider starb Hoss am 5.Juli 2008 .
Tom Kollenborn schrieb einen Nachruf unter: http://superstitionmountaintomkollenbor ... ckman.html
Hoss the Boss 1932 -2008 war einer der den amerikanischen Traum lebte und zwar wie kein anderer. Hoss wir werden Dich nie vergessen.
Allen 'Hoss' Blackman
Allen was born in Bridgeport, Conn., in 1932 to Allen Edwards Blackman and Isabella Rogers Moddell. He was a graduate of Stamford High School and later served honorably in the army during the Korean War. He was a resident of Meadview and Dolan Springs for the past 10 years.
Allen worked for Pitney Bowes most of his life, and after retiring in 1989, he actively pursued his many lifelong interests. He was an artist, cowboy poet and accomplished horseman, a working cowboy, gem cutter, treasure hunter and gold prospector, and an Outback guide to the Western Australia gold fields.
Allen was a member of the American Legion, VFW, Amvets and a 50-year member of the Masonic Lodge of Connecticut.
Allen is survived by his son, Bruce Blackman of Cottonwood, Ariz.; daughter, Nancy Fosset of Lynn Creek, Mo.; brother, Edward Blackman of Boston; and four grandchildren. He was quite a character and will be missed dearly by his family and friends.
Kollenborn’s Chronicles
Tom Kollenborn
Allan ‘Hoss’ Blackman 1932-2008
Viewpoint & Opinion
“If you expect to be ignorant and free, you expect something that never was and never will be.”— Thomas Jefferson
ajnews@ajnews.com
Several years ago I wrote
an article about a man who
changed his life based on
what he believed in. This man
moved from a setting of seascapes
in the east to the southwest.
His childhood dream of
being a cowboy was finally
fulfilled when he moved to
Arizona in 1972.
In the fall of 1975 the Arizona
desert was a burning inferno
with temperatures well
above the one hundred-degree
mark. Only after sundown did
the air begin to cool. It was in
my swamp-cooled classroom
on the extension campus of
Central Arizona College in
Apache Junction that I met
my first real “Connecticut
Yankee”. He was dressed in
a big Stetson hat, a western
shirt, Levis, and pointed-toe
cowboy boots. His better
than six-foot frame made a
real striking figure in a room
filled with senior citizens and
other students. Momentarily
I thought John Wayne had
joined my class. At the time
I was teaching a special interest
class titled “Prospecting
the Superstitions.” As fall
changed to winter on the Arizona
desert this “Connecticut
Yankee” would forever alter
my philosophy about life and
why a lot of people move to
Apache Junction.
During the many class sessions
that followed he was so
inquisitive, so charged with
enthusiasm, and so sincere
about accumulating knowledge
on cowboys and the
region. He wasn’t the typical
instructor-student challenger;
he wanted to learn everything
he could about the Superstition
Mountains and the
American West. Sometimes
it appeared he was trying to
crowd a lifetime into a few
short months. After our formal
introduction I understood the
motivation behind his drive to
acquire all the knowledge he
could. He was a “Connecticut
Yankee” in search of a dream,
a dream of learning and experiencing
the life of a real
cowboy. Something he had
Allan Blackman on the
trail to Haunted Canyon.
c.1978
dreamed about since childhood.
Allan Blackman was a
man in search of a dream and
had forgone his previous lifestyle
as a successful Easterner
to fulfill this burning desire to
go west.
No longer would he do lapidary
work, paint schooners
on the high sea, or build brass
cannons for Revolutionary
War re-enactment groups.
Allan was an accomplished
seascape painter and had oil
paintings hanging in thirtynine
states. He traded all this
for a chance to prospect for
gold in the West and find the
legendary cowboy’s way of
life.
Allan was born during the
“Great Depression” on February
27, 1932 in Bridgeport,
Connecticut and graduated
from high school in Stamford
on June 6, 1950. As a child he
traded his piano lessons for
art lessons and by the time
he was fourteen he had his
first one-man art show at the
Stamford Museum. He sold
ten of his thirty clipper ships
and seascape scenes that day.
His oil paintings found their
way into banks and homes
in thirty-nine states of the
United States. Allan continued
to paint and sell his work
throughout high school.
His first introduction to the
West was when he was four
years old. All dressed in cowboy
attire he would ride his
tricycle around his parent’s
living room while absorbing
the music of Montana Slim
who sang each morning on
Radio WOR, New York City,
about 8:15 a.m. His mother
use to say the only thing he
would sit still and listen to
was a cowboy singer. From
this point on Allan grew up
dreaming of being a cowboy
and living the cowboy’s way
of life.
The beginning of World
War II, when our nation was
at its greatest turmoil, Allan
passed time at the movie theater
watching Tom Mix, Gene
Autry and a host of Hollywood
cowboys who where
his heroes. It was from these
characters Allan’s first impressions
of the West came.
However, nothing stirred him
as much as the film, “Lust for
Gold”, starring Glen Ford and
Ida Lupino in 1951. This film
incorporated as one of its basic
themes the legend of the
Lost Dutchman Gold Mine in
the Superstition Mountains of
Central Arizona. Now young
Allan had both the West and
lost gold to nurture his desire
to see the West.
Allan joined the United
States Army in 1951 shortly
after high school. He served a
tour of duty in Germany and
was honorably discharged in
1953.
Blackman was employed
as a tool-die maker at the
Pitney-Bowes Company. He
worked his way up to foreman
by 1967. Allan had an
excellent job, a beautiful
home in West Redding, Connecticut
and a wonderful
family. In his West Redding
home he continued his art
and developed his lapidary
skills and work. He traded oil
paintings for uncut stone to
finish and polish. During the
twelve years he worked for
Pitney-Bows he continued to
develop his painting ability
for seascapes.
Allan planned a vacation in
1968 to San Antonio, Texas,
but instead traveled to California.
It was on his return trip
from California he stopped
in Wickenburg, Arizona, the
“Dude Ranch Capital of the
World.” It was here, he met
his first cowboy. A man he
could talk to about the West
and the life style here.
Early in 1972, after a severe
winter of rain and a problematic
asthmatic condition of
his son, Bruce, he decided
to move to Arizona. This unusual
set of circumstances
prompted Allan to ask for
a transfer to Arizona from
Pitney-Bows. Company officials
arranged a transfer for
Allan. The Blackman’s sold
their house that day and by
October 10, 1972, Allan was
finally living the legend he
had dreamed about. He was
only forty years old.
Allan always believed
“cowboys were the swashbucklers
of the desert.” As
he settled into his new life
it was a learning experience.
He changed from a station
wagon to FWD pickup. He
had to learn cowboy talk and
special cowboy skills just for
his personal satisfaction. He
read just about everything
he could about cowboys, the
West and lost gold.
Blackman first moved to
Mesa, Arizona on one acre
of land. On this land he had
his horses, goats, and sheep.
The first two horsemen he
met were Gary Hunnington
and Joseph Bailey. Allan
learned his basics from these
two men. They hauled their
horses out to the Superstition
Wilderness and rode to various
destinations. This Connecticut
Yankee thrived on the
Wild West and the legends of
Superstition Mountain.
Allan lived in Mesa eight
years before moving to
Apache Junction. He claimed
meeting me in October of
1973 broadened his knowledge
of the West, the Superstition
Wilderness and the life
of the cowboy. He was sincerely
dedicated to learning
about the legends and stories
of Superstition Mountain.
Blackman and I rode in the
mountains for ten years together.
He often volunteered
to work for Bill Bohme in
the eastern end of the Superstition
Mountains during
roundup. Royce Johnson, Bill
from Doc in Vegas:
Some 14 years ago I got interested in prospecting. I made a post on one of the old time forums asking if someone could help me 'cause I didn't know nothin'. Two days later Hoss Blackman showed up at my office offering to take me out to the gold fields and show me how it was done. Hoss wasn't lookin' to sell me anything, he was just lookin' to help someone out who wanted to learn about gold prospecting. Hoss was a brilliant teacher, and I was a sponge. We became very close friends. Hoss said that I paid him back many times over when I negotiated his butt out of a Mexican jail and got his truck and two metal detectors that had been confiscated back, and got them to drop the $16,000 fine they wanted to impose for some trumped up crap charge of smuggling electronics into Mexico. I could tell you how I pulled that one off, but that is a story for another time. This is just the time for a moment of silence and sadness as we mourn the passing of a gold prospecting legend, "Hoss" Blackman. Hoss was many things, but most importantly he was my friend. Until we meet again Hoss! God be with you my friend, as I am sure you are already with God, and telling many a story.
