May 23, 2011 © Thomas J. Kollenborn. All Rights Reserved.
Memorial
Day comes and goes each year. We remember the men and women who paid
the ultimate price so we as Americans can enjoy our freedom. The
American soldier has fought around the world. Most returned home and
become ordinary citizens once again. Some of these men who are scared
for life because of the horrors on the battlefield. Many of these men
seek the solitude of nature and become recluses. Such a man was Edwin
Buckwitz.
Hikers, prospectors,
horsemen, outfitters and cowboys often passed an old man hiking in and
out of the Superstition Wilderness Area along the Dutchman’s trail
between 1965 and 1993. This man avoided contact and stayed to himself,
only speaking when spoken to. He hiked silently along the trail with a
large cardboard box on his pack frame never volunteering information to
anyone. Outfitters, who were often visitors to the wilderness, called
him “Spook”.
Spook’s real name was Edwin
Buckwitz. He was born on July 6, 1924, on a South Dakota wheat farm near
McLaughlin. He was the middle child in a family of seven. Edwin was
very shy and a true introvert. This man spent most of his life avoiding
contact with people. He preferred to be alone.
After graduation from high
school he joined the United States Army Air Corps in 1942. This was the
thing to do at this period in American history. Edwin served with the
15th Army Air Corps and was stationed in Italy during World War II. He
was a waist gunner on a B-24 Liberator and flew many missions over
Germany. Edwin once told his brother about the time he took off his
flight jacket on a mission and hung it next to the waist gun aperture.
When the flight was over he found the jacket filled with bullet holes.
The one story Edwin told his brother I am sure played a dramatic role in
shaping Edwin’s life after the war.
Edwin told the following
tragic story that involved the loss of his crew and aircraft. Edwin was
grounded one day. He watched his crew take off in an over loaded B-24
filled to capacity with bombs for the Third Reich. He then watched
helplessly as the plane stalled then crashed. All the crew, his friends,
his buddies were lost in a split second. This event scared Edwin’s mind
for the rest of his life.
After Edwin’s short, but
dangerous, military career he attended school to become an electrical
engineer. Upon graduation, he worked for McDonnell-Douglas in the
mid-1950’s. He did drafting work on the A-3D bomber and the F-5D fighter
escort plane. He worked for almost two decades in the aircraft
engineering industry in California.
At the age of 45, Edwin
decided he would fulfill his life dream of living with nature and
surviving alone in a wilderness. He wanted to get away from people and
traffic congestion. Working in the Los Angeles area would make anyone
want to run away to the hills. Edwin resigned his job and traveled to
Arizona. He decided he would devote the rest of his life to searching
for the Peralta Treasure in the Superstition Wilderness.
Many years ago Edwin told me
about the anxiety he felt the first day he stood at First Water
Trailhead and planned his solo trip into the Superstition Wilderness. He
didn’t know whether he could find water or not. He had never camped
outdoors before. He wasn’t even familiar with the wildlife of the
Sonoran Desert. He wondered just how long he would survive in this
rugged wilderness with little protection from the weather and the
animals. He was convinced most animals were harmless if left alone. He
finally made up his mind not to worry about broken bones, dehydration,
rattlesnakes, lions or the desert heat. He sincerely believed, at the
time, anything was better than the traffic congestion of California
freeways and the war he had served honorably in. He finally convinced
himself, he said to me, he was here to find the gold of Superstition
Mountain and to seek peace and solitude of this mountain wilderness.
Edwin lived in East Boulder
and Needle Canyons for twenty years. He searched the area with total
dedication believing he would find his gold. Edwin had an unshakable
faith that the Peralta Mines existed. The last time I talked to Edwin,
he revealed no traces of the young man who had gone to war, who had
studied electrical engineering at Wayne State University in Detroit and
Northrop University in Inglewood, California. His skin was rough and
tanned like leather from years of exposure to the hot desert sun. His
body was slender and wiry from decades of walking in the Superstitions
and his hair was gray from age.
I must admit I watched Edwin
grow older and he loved every minute of it. He said growing old put more
time between the present and his memories of the air war over Germany
and the tragic explosion in Italy that cost the lives of his aviation
combat crew. He loved every minute of his isolation in the mountains. He
had many friends among the animals. Birds would sit on his shoulders,
squirrels would eat from his hands, and Cottontail rabbits filled his
camp.
Edwin lived almost
twenty eight years in the outdoors and survived with the minimum of
conveniences. His amenities included a plastic tarp, an old bedroll, a
backpack, a cardboard box, a pot, a pan, a canteen and a bible. He
carried all he owned on his back for almost three decades. I passed
Edwin Buckwitz on the trail many times between 1966 and 1986 before I
actually met him. Edwin hiked from his camp in Needle Canyon to Apache
Junction twice a month, a distance of fifteen miles, for more than
twenty-five years. The only treasure Edwin found was peace of mind and
the solitude of the mountains.
Life in the Superstition
Mountains for Edwin had not been easy. His paradise had become his
master. I was often awed at his tenacity and fascinated with his
interaction with wildlife around his camp. Edwin was at peace with his
God and the environment around him. Actually Edwin paid an exacting
price for his privacy and isolation from his fellow human beings. It is
ironic that such a man who shunned society died near a busy intersection
along the Apache Trail in March of 1993. He accepted no social
pensions, although eligible, of any kind. He arrived in Apache Junction
with almost one hundred thousand dollars in 1965 and when he died he
willed almost a quarter of million dollars to a religious radio
evangelist in Kentucky.
Staff Sgt. Edwin Buckwitz was
laid to rest with full military honors in the Phoenix Veterans Cemetery
at 2:30 p.m. on March 26, 1993. Taps were finally sounded for this man
who lived through hell high over Germany during World War II, but found
his ultimate peace on earth in the Superstition Mountains.
Don’t wait until Memorial Day
or Veteran’s Day to say thank you to a veteran who was willing to risk
his or her life for your way of life. We Americans are so lucky to have
these brave men and women who gave so much for our freedom and our
country.
Editor’s note: Author Tom Kollenborn is a veteran of the U.S. Air Force.