{"id":4876,"date":"2013-11-18T18:56:14","date_gmt":"2013-11-19T02:56:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/?p=4876"},"modified":"2013-11-18T18:56:50","modified_gmt":"2013-11-19T02:56:50","slug":"from-the-2003-archives-only-schafer-can-get-away-with-that-remembering-the-great-gene-schafer-1931-2011","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/2013\/11\/18\/from-the-2003-archives-only-schafer-can-get-away-with-that-remembering-the-great-gene-schafer-1931-2011\/","title":{"rendered":"(from the 2003 archives) ‘ONLY SCHAFER CAN GET AWAY WITH THAT.’ —Remembering the Great Gene Schafer… 1931-2011"},"content":{"rendered":"

The one-and-only Gene Schafer died last year on June 15.\u00a0 As the end of this story suggests (written in 2003),\u00a0 I thought he’d live forever.\u00a0 For all of us who still miss him, in our hearts and memories, Gene will\u00a0 still outlive us all…JS<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Late one winter morning, a couple of years back, Gene Schafer was busy at work on a Toyota Corolla. He was working alone in his shop, as he usually does, with the bay door closed and only the fire in his huge homemade wood stove to keep him company. He had the rear end of the car on jacks, had yanked the wheel to get a better look at the frame, and was trying to pull off the McPherson strut. Suddenly, the spring-loaded strut broke loose and the force of it drove into Gene\u2019s lower jaw and pinned his head to the inside of the wheel well.<\/p>\n

So here he was, alone, the doors locked, nobody within hollering distance, with his head squished between the sheet metal wheel well and the mean end of a McPherson strut. Like a grapefruit in a vice. Blood was squirting from the wound which should have snapped his jaw like a pretzel and for a moment, Schafer thought he might pass out.<\/p>\n

But he took a deep breath, tried to appreciate his situation, and then said out loud, to nobody in particular, “I\u2019ll be goddamned if I\u2019m gonna end up dying like this.”<\/p>\n

And Gene Schafer did what he always does\u2013the improbable, or the downright impossible. With one hand, he managed to pry the strut from under his chin, something two men could not accomplish under normal conditions, and pulled himself out of harm\u2019s way. The entire right half of his face was blue from the bruises and swollen to the point where that side of him was “beyond recognition.” And he could barely use his whacked up jaw to chew food.<\/p>\n

But he managed. Later that afternoon, he was back on the job, trying to finish up the work he\u2019d had to briefly abandon that morning. After all, he was in reasonably good shape otherwise. And he was only 72 years old at the time.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s Gene Schafer. There are some people who are a legend in their own mind<\/em>. Schafer is the rare individual who is a legend in his own time. That\u2019s why I can assure you, not long after he reads this, I\u2019ll hear a pounding on my door and there will be Gene, shaking his head with The Zephyr<\/em> in his hand and he\u2019ll say, “What\u2019s all this bullshit about me being a legend?” But he\u2019ll also have a bottle of Scotch in the other hand, wrapped in a grease rag. And then he\u2019ll say, “…to hell with it…You got any ice?”<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Gene Schafer contains multitudes. He was born in Texas, moved to southern Utah when his dad saw an ad for free homestead land near Monticello. He knew practically nothing but hard work for most of his youth, but still found time to appreciate the joys of swing dancing, pretty girls, a taste for good whiskey and a well-tuned fast car. He\u2019s walked and hunted and rode a horse over much of San Juan County, but also ran southeast Utah\u2019s only ski resort for 20 years. He slaughters his own beef each spring, but claims his good health can be attributed to the two or three cloves of garlic he eats whole every day (he keeps a jar of them –pickled with hot jalapenos–in the fridge in his shop). He appreciates good Scotch and prefers Glenlivet, but will settle for cheap brandy in a pinch.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

He\u2019s the most honest man I\u2019ve ever known, which causes both chuckles, frowns and a squirm or two from a broad range of friends and adversaries. He grew up a Gentile in a community that is 90% Mormon; yet he has earned the respect of practically everyone, regardless of religion, because in the end, Gene Schafer is a straight-shooter. He never tries to be anyone but himself, and in this godawful time of political correctness and pained pretension, just his \u2018tell-it\u2019like-it-is\u2019 approach to life makes him a unique and unforgettable man. He once told San Juan County\u2019s most celebrated curmudgeon\/misanthrope that he, “crapped too close to the house,” and not only lived to tell the tale, he made the guy laugh.<\/p>\n

No one could ever call Gene Schafer a phony. Some people work hard at being a character; with Gene it just comes naturally. And he tells the story of his remarkable life in a most unremarkable way\u2013as if everyone has shared in the same kind of adventure…<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

“My mother\u2019s brother, my Uncle Aaron had worked in the hayfields near Montrose and Delta, and he brought back a little government booklet about homestead land in Utah and Colorado. So Dad got a hold of a little money…this was during the Depression..and he and Aaron came up here and found this country. They looked at the Yellowjacket area first but it was too flat\u2013reminded him of Texas. Dad saw these mountains and just kept going. There was a piece of ground out here that talked to him so he got it. Someone had settled on it back in the early 1900s and abandoned it. But they left a little cabin and Dad wanted it. Then he brought us all out to live.”<\/p>\n

His dad needed work and started to sign up with the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) but when word got around that his dad was a whiz with engines, the lumber company that ran a mill up on the Saddle in the Blue Mountains hired him as a mechanic. But everyone in the family worked…<\/p>\n

“In the winter, we\u2019d go out to the ranch in the snow, and I\u2019d wrap me legs in burlap sacks and tie them with baling wire..the snow won\u2019t stick to burlap…and we\u2019d walk out into the trees and cut cedar posts. Then I\u2019d carry them back. We\u2019d get thirty cents a piece for them and sometimes I could make six or seven dollars a day. We could live a couple of weeks on that.” They lived on the ranch for a few years, but when the kids needed to attend school in Monticello, his father bought a piece of ground in town (“I think he paid twenty-five dollars for it.”), hauled some logs off the mountain, had them milled and built a new home for the family.<\/p>\n

But almost from the time he could remember, Gene loved cars. He had his father\u2019s gift for fixing things, especially cars and trucks, and by the time he was in the 9th<\/sup> Grade, Schafer was already working at a service station. “I was just hanging around the co-op washing windshields and I thought I was pretty smart…One night I was there and Raymond Compton, the fella that worked there full-time, took off and went to Grand Junction and told me to watch the place. But that night the boss showed up and pretty soon he offered me the job. So I was working eight hours a day at the station and going to school six…This was in the mid-40s. Me and the teachers were the only ones that had cars at school. I had an old \u201827 Chevrolet. In fact, I used to work on all the teachers\u2019 cars or else they wouldn\u2019t have graduated me.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>“Toward the end of high school, I bought a \u201841 Plymouth down there at the Chevrolet garage. I paid $29 a month or something like that on payments. This was in \u201848 or \u201849. I bought it from Tommy Nielson who was a salesman down there. He was star of the basketball team too. Selling cars and still going to school. That\u2019s how it was in those days\u2014everybody worked.”<\/p>\n

But a year later Gene joined the Army. Did he volunteer?<\/p>\n

“No…I was sort of asked to join because I was bootlegging wine.”<\/p>\n

Schafer had<\/em> to tell this story…<\/p>\n

“Well, I was at the station and this guy named Bob got thrown out of a car. I was just standing there and it was late at night. So Bob says, \u2018Is that your car?\u2019 and I said it was. He said, \u2018I\u2019ll give you $20 to run me to Dove Creek.\u2019 So I thought, Man that\u2019s ok. We drove there and loaded up with nine cases of wine and then when we got back, he said, \u2018I\u2019ll give you another $20 to drive me to Bluff. I thought, it\u2019ll be sunup before we get back. But I was only making $75 every two weeks at the garage. Then he said, \u2018How about $30,\u2019 and I said, OK.\u2019 So I started doing that every two weeks . He\u2019d get five bucks for a bottle and he was only paying ninety cents in Dove Creek. So they were wondering how all that wine was getting down there and here it was this little kid in high school bootlegging it.<\/p>\n

“So then my dad and the sheriff spotted me going down the road and I got caught. This was during the Korean Conflict and they sort of gave me a choice of the Army or reform school or something. Hell, I was old enough to go in the service anyway, but I had more fun in the service than anywhere else. By the time I got in there, the Korean thing was winding down, so I ended up going to Germany. You see, when I signed up, they asked me if I could speak a foreign language and I said German, because my father\u2019s dad had come over here to get away from the Kaiser. But I didn\u2019t really speak German, except I knew some cuss words. But hey, after I got over there. I started to pick it up pretty good.<\/p>\n

“I think that was the most interesting time in my life. Whenever I had some time off, I\u2019d travel. I didn\u2019t smoke so I saved a lot of money. I\u2019d sell my cigarette rations and would use that money to take off. I went all over, even skied all over the Alps.”<\/p>\n

\u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Now you wouldn\u2019t think a kid who grew up on a ranch, hauling fence posts, working on truck motors and bootlegging wine in one of the most remote sections of the Lower 48 would know the first thing about skiing, but as usual, Schafer doesn\u2019t fit the mold…<\/p>\n

“When we lived out at Dodge Point, Dad would ski out there and back, about five miles cross-country and he\u2019d pull a sled to haul things. Kent Frost made the first pair of skis I ever saw out of a 2 x 6 that he\u2019d planed. But Dad bought us our skis and used to pull us with a rope down the side of the highway. Like waterskiing down the road. And we\u2019d get behind horses, and it was sort of dangerous, but it was a lot of fun.”<\/p>\n

Schafer got out of the service in \u201853 and worked in the uranium mill for a while. In \u201855 he was the first man to drive a dual-axle ore truck up the old Comb Ridge Dugway. “It was sort of sweaty and hot on that hillside. The truck would vapor-lock a couple of times but I\u2019d figure it out and go on…it was a hundred feet or more over the side of that dugway. There\u2019s a bunch of cars still at the bottom of that gulch.”<\/p>\n

Like so many others who lived in southeast Utah in the \u201850s, Gene worked for and knew the “Uranium King,” Charlie Steen. “I used to go up to his parties and I dated Charlie\u2019s partner, Mitch Melich\u2019s daughter for a while…she liked me because she loved a good dancer. And I had a \u201856 Lincoln too. I was the best dancer in high school. Clear up to a few years ago, people would ask me to teach them to dance.<\/p>\n

“I was in Cortez once and this girl came over to pick me up to start dancing. Pretty quick, I said, \u2018Why don\u2019t you come over and sit at my<\/em> table?\u2019 and she said, \u2018No…my husband is sitting over there,\u2019 and then she says, \u2018Why don\u2019t you come over and sit at our<\/em> table?\u2019 And so I did. I ended up getting invited to their house and I taught him<\/em> how to dance. But if a guy\u2019s got two left legs and they\u2019re both on the right side, well hell, you can\u2019t teach him how to dance.<\/p>\n

“When my kids were in high school, up in Price, I used to go to the college dances, and pretty quick I\u2019d be dancing. And then another girl would come up to dance and they\u2019d meet me on the dance floor. One girl came up to me and said, \u2018Hey wild man, can I sit here?\u2019 Finally my son, Stan, came up to me and he said, \u2018My hell, Dad, has it been like this all the time?\u2019 And I said, \u2018Hey all you gotta do is dance good, son. If you\u2019re a good dancer you can flat do anything.\u2019<\/p>\n

Gene left Monticello twice, first in the late 50s, to work as a Diesel mechanic in Fresno, and then again, in the mid-60s. He came back from Fresno in the early 60s and ran the tractor on the family farm when his dad became ill. Gene returned to California in 1965 for a few years and worked in Balboa, Van Nuys and a few other places, working on condos, but never could really take to the place. “Too many people. I tried to think of something I liked about it, but I can\u2019t…it was just different. Too many people. Hell, people have more respect for each other on a stock car track than they do on a freeway.”<\/p>\n

When Gene came back to Monticello, he worked at the Chevrolet garage for a decade and he also did the stock car circuit in towns around the Four Corners and he ran the farm and he started his own shop and towing service and he got married\u2013it\u2019s always hard to trace Schafer\u2019s chronology because he was always doing seven things at the same time…<\/p>\n

“…and I had a couple of brats. Two kids…most people say they had kids, but I always say I had Superstars, you know. They\u2019re good workers but they thought they were playin\u2019. When I went on a wrecker call in the middle of the night, they\u2019d come with me. I\u2019d take out 30% and I\u2019d give them half of what was left. They\u2019d come along and sweep the glass off the roads an everything. Rigby Wright, the sheriff, would say, \u2018Gene, you\u2019re breaking your<\/p>\n

crew in early,\u2019 and I did. They had little brooms and they worked hard.<\/p>\n

“When I decided to start my own business, I bought that land on Third East and tore down the old cabin and built my home. Owen Severance helped me build the shop. He said he didn\u2019t want anything for helping me build it, except to be able to use the shop to work on his own car. So here it is, all these years later and he\u2019s still coming in…I figured somebody\u2019d have killed him by now, but he still stops by a couple times a week. He\u2019s college-educated but I can\u2019t hold that against him.”<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It was also during the \u201870s that Schafer got involved with the Blue Mountain ski area. Of course, he\u2019d always been a skier, and he had really honed his skills while he was in the army in Europe. But in the late \u201850s, a group of Monticello citizens developed a ski area in the Blues. “Grant Bunson put up $27,000 to get it started. Then the townspeople got up there and cleared the land with a front end loader. It was kind of a cliquey thing for a while. Sort of a private ski area. They didn\u2019t even want tourists to use it.<\/p>\n

“Anyway I\u2019d been working on the towers and been involved in the maintenance, and finally they came to me and wanted me to be on their board of directors. I had all this other stuff going on with the farm and the shop and didn\u2019t really want to be on the board, and finally they just came to me and said, \u2018Here, it\u2019s all yours.\u2019 and I ended up with my name in all the ski magazines.\u2019 I made some changes…we started staying open Friday through Sunday, and we\u2019d get people from Grand Junction and Cortez. The Indians used to come in from Shiprock by the busload. But they all liked this hill because it wasn\u2019t groomed and we had the moguls…those moguls made a man out of you. You talk about neat. You could feel that in your legs. And all the guys from Moab, the river rats, I called them, I\u2019d let \u2018em in for nothing. Of course, the kids were up there working with me all the time. Hell, they\u2019d go up the towers to fix shorts.<\/p>\n

“I hired a girlfriend of mine to collect the tickets and she also sold hot dogs and made some extra money. And a guy from Slavens came over to rent skis. We did ok.”<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>But in the late 70s, two factors conspired to shut down the Blue Mountain ski area\u2014rising insurance premiums and no snow…<\/p>\n

“We were paying $5600 a year for insurance and then we had a bad snow year. The next year the premiums went to $9000 and the snow wasn\u2019t much better. I asked what was going to happen the next year to the premium and they said $16,000. So the premiums went up and the snow went down. Finally in the early 80s, we shut it down and that was the end of it. Now, there\u2019s just a few of the cables up there.<\/p>\n

“There\u2019ve been some stories about the ski area\u2014they did a show on KUED and it made the Tribune<\/em>. I was even \u2018Citizen of the Year\u2019 in \u201868. But we never did get enough snow to start it up again. Some guy asked me what we could do to start it up again and I said nothing. He said, \u2018You\u2019ve got a negative attitude Gene,\u2019 and I said, \u2018No, I don\u2019t…we just don\u2019t have any snow!\u2019 I think the last year was \u201882.”<\/p>\n

Even though the ski area was gone, Schafer managed to stay as busy as ever. He was legendary for pulling stranded, stuck or broken down vehicles out of the backcountry with his trusty tow truck. Again, he does the impossible…<\/p>\n

“I used to drag cars out of Canyonlands\u2014Beef Basin, Bobby\u2019s Hole. I pulled a lot of them out of there. But nobody can go where I go. I used to tell them, \u2018I can go places you can\u2019t even walk.\u2019 I remember one guy I pulled out of Bobby\u2019s Hole. It was a five or six hour haul out of there and so there was a lot of time to talk. But every time I asked him what he did for a living, the guy would change the subject. Finally when we were almost back, I asked him flat out and he looked at me sort of funny and said, \u2018Well…to tell you the truth, I work for the Internal Revenue Service. I\u2019m a tax auditor.\u2019 I kind of laughed and said, \u2018I guess it is a good thing you didn\u2019t tell me \u2018til now. If you had I would have left your ass back there in the canyons.\u2019”<\/p>\n

Gene still wakes up before dawn, still heats his home and shop with wood that he cuts and hauls to town from his ranch. “I got about 20 cords but I guess I better get some more, just in case.” Still munches on whole garlic cloves as if they were peanuts. Still works on cars almost every day of the week and never gets tired of it either. “I look at every broken down car as a challenge…I love figuring it all out.” And he still speaks his mind to just about anyone he feels like speaking his mind to.<\/em> “Some of them aren\u2019t worth talking to at all,” he explains.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>And in a part of the West where religion plays a major role in daily life, Schafer hasn\u2019t much use for any<\/em> religion. “I never thought about joining any church. You can take a Bible and put your own words into it. And that isn\u2019t right. You can quote it, but just quote the words. Don\u2019t go trying to change it. One day back in the \u201840s, a lady here came up to me from the Baptists and asked if I\u2019d get up and lead the service. They didn\u2019t have a preacher for that day. And I said. \u2018Ok, but I\u2019ve got an idea..I want to ask the congregation some questions about how to solve some people\u2019s problems.\u2019 And so that\u2019s what we did. We all tried to figure out how to help each other. But then the preacher from Dove Creek came over and said, \u2018I hear you\u2019re saying all kinds of things to the congregation and we don\u2019t do it like that in this church.\u2019 So that was my last preaching job…I figured I could just have Gene\u2019s Church from then on.<\/p>\n

“I never could stand two-faced people…if you tell somebody something one way, and then you go up the street and tell it some other way…well, that isn\u2019t right. You got to treat people like you want to see them the next day. If they\u2019re two-faced, I like matching wits with them. People know I tell it straight…I got 27 votes for mayor once and I wasn\u2019t even running.”<\/p>\n

Gene Schafer, at 74, doesn\u2019t plan to retire\u2014ever. He\u2019s still as tough as a ten penny nail. He once told a man who seemed to be thinking of popping Gene in the nose, “I never seen you fight anybody unless they was twice your age and drunk..and I sure as hell ain\u2019t drunk.” He was a kid and Gene let him have it without ever throwing a punch. “You kids think you\u2019re something but you\u2019re not…hell, you probably can\u2019t piss hard enough on the ground to make foam yet.”<\/p>\n

POW!<\/p>\n

If he gets sick of working on a car he\u2019ll walk away from it for a while, but he always comes back. “Every broken down car is a challenge, but then again, people are a challenge too. My brother Victor pointed out to me once that when these people who are 2000 miles from home, when they break down and you\u2019re working on their car, you bring them in and give them a beer and pretty soon, they\u2019re having more fun than if their cars had kept going. People from all over the country come back to see me…just to see if I\u2019m still alive.”<\/p>\n

Last week I stopped by to see Gene. He was in the shop, under a Ford 150. He slid out from under the chassis and stood up to say hello. But I had to back off a bit. “Damn Gene…you\u2019ve been eating your pickled garlic cloves again!”<\/p>\n

“Damn right,” he said. “Nobody may want to come near me, but I\u2019ll outlive all you sons of bitches.”<\/p>\n

He probably will.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The one-and-only Gene Schafer died last year on June 15.\u00a0 As the end of this story suggests (written in 2003),\u00a0 I thought he’d live forever.\u00a0 For all of us who still miss him, in our hearts and memories, Gene will\u00a0 still outlive us all…JS Late one winter morning, a couple of years back, Gene Schafer […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4876","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4876","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4876"}],"version-history":[{"count":29,"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4876\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10392,"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4876\/revisions\/10392"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4876"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4876"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.canyoncountryzephyr.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4876"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}