Elwood Thomas was administrator for the Campbell estate—in Nevada. After spending thirty-eight years on the desert and in the mines, without receiving so much as a damaging scratch, Elwood was fatally injured in a horse and buggy accident while back Here on a visit to his daughter, Mrs. Maude Ralston, at Holton, in 1915. He died three days after the accident. He was buried in the Wetmore cemetery. Elwood Thomas lived apart from his family from the time he he went West in 1873. Family ties, it seems, were not strong enough to bridge the distance between them. Maybe it was the desert again.
Turning momentarily aside from the path that leads toward the rainbow’s elusive end, let me here interpose a brief paragraph about John Campbell, the brother whom Green had said could remain on the farm and keep up the fight against odds if he wanted to. John did remain on the farm; and kept up the fight—and won. He even elected to remain on the farm after pressing invitations to join his brother in the land of gold. He lived on the original homestead in Wetmore township until he died, in 1894. As the years became more seasonable for the production of grain, John Campbell made a good living—and more—from his acres and his herds. And, best of all, he found contentment and happiness with his wife and three children on the farm. I think that in all my life I have never known a more kindly, considerate, and contented person than was this tall, slim, fine man.
Luck was a bit fickle with Green Campbell. It both smiled and frowned on him in a few fleeting years. Alert, with a keen mind, he made good at first on everything he touched — save, of course, that first water-hole. Then, abruptly, as if a great cloud had obscured his vision, he lost his charm. Two outstanding reverses followed in quick succession.
Irreparable damage is often done in the name of friendship. With millions of dollars to the good, Green Campbell was picked by his friends to turn the tide of politics in Utah, to break Mormon rule. He was on the minority side, to be sure, but what did that matter? Clean and ambitious, with bulging pockets, he would be a formidable figure in bringing about the change so much desired—by the outs of course.
Thus, Green Campbell was launched upon the perilous sea of politics—literally shoved off into its unfriendly waters, slightly, but assuredly, beyond his depths. The warm and manifest enthusiasm of his friends, so goes the story, inspired in him a feeling of confidence—and, unschooled in the hard-played game of politics, he set sail upon the turbid political waters with never a thought as to the many, many wrecked political ships that mark the shores of Time.
Infectious enthusiasm had spread over the field. Voters and non-voters alike cheered for him. The Italian colony piped, “Viva Campbell—bigga man!” John Chinaman, it was related, yelled in badly Americanized Cantonese, “Hoola Campbell! All-o-same-e, no like-e dlam Mormon lenny-way!”
Deliverance, it seemed, was at hand. Still in the first flush of his great financial triumph, Green Campbell spent money freely for the cause, and incidentally tried for a seat in Congress. This experience cost him a lot of money—just how much no one knows. Some said it was nearly a million dollars.
Green Capbell was defeated for delegate to Congress by the Mormon bishop, Cannon. But he contested the election upon the grounds that Cannon, a Canadian, was not naturalized. In this he won, but not until the two-year term was almost over. He went to Washington as the Hon. Allen G. Campbell.
I shall not attempt to tell you his politics, because I don’t know—for sure. But when I tell you his fine saddle horse was named Cleveland, you can make your own deductions. It was a common sight to see Green Campbell mounted on that spirited horse riding about the streets of Vanderbilt, often with one of his little boys up in front of him or riding behind, while his luxuriant white beard, always well groomed, billowed gracefully in the desert breezes. Green Campbell was a large man, about six feet tall and rather portly, though not really fat. He always presented a prosperous, dignified appearance.
And now, while a million dollars, or whatever sum it really was, out of one pocket was a lot of money wasted in priming the political pump, it wouldn’t have been so bad for Green Campbell, seeing that he had obliged his friends, had there not been other heavy and unexpected drains upon his purse. It was a partnership with Jay Cooke and Company, a Washington stock brokerage firm, at a most unfortunate time, that really hurt.