Son of Alvin Bemis and Elizabeth Penniman(Nish)Hancock.
Husband of Nellie(VanLeuven).
1917 World War I Draft Registration Card- Dental surgeon lived at 530 Victoria Ave. San Bernardino,CA. Married, short, medium built, with light blue eyes and light colored hair.
-------------------------------------------
San Bernardino Daily Sun (San Bernardino, CA.), P. 14, Col. 1 and P. 15, Col. 3
Mon., Nov. 5, 1962
They Tell Me
By Earl E. Buie
‘Men Are but Boys Grown Old…’
Somehow, I can’t remember the exact words of a bit of philosophy but it went something like, “Men are but boys grown old..”
And so it was with my friend of boyhood, Dr. A. E. Hancock, who went on the other day.
I can’t remember the year but it must have been sometime along about 1910 or 1911 when I met earl Hancock, as we called him, out on West Base Line where he was born. His family home was the base from which the Hancock boys, the Cox boys and the Bemis boys took off on some of our great adventures which took us along Lyle Creek all the way to its origin in the mountains.
Earl never tired of adventure. He came by his love of the outdoors naturally. His grandfather was Joseph Hancock, who had crossed the plains in a covered wagon with his wife, Elizabeth Nish Hancock, and their children, to settle on a homestead near what is today West 5th Street along Lyle Creek. Joseph Hancock, who lived to be 105, was the most noted of the early-day settlers whose descendants are the Hancock - Roberds - Bemis clan of today, the valley’s largest family.
Earl’s father, Alvin B. Hancock, regaled his children with stories of covered-wagon days and adventure. Earl never forgot them.
As a boy, he used to tell us the haycocks traced their family history back to the arrival in America of Nathaniel Hancock in 1620.
Fishing in Lyle Creek (the stream flowed all year in those days) and hunting in the wash were adventures to Earl. It was adventure when he left home to enter the University of California to study dentistry. It was adventure when he enlisted in the Army in World War I. But he longed to return to the valley of his birth. He did.
To me, the Dr. Hancock who served one appointment to the California State Board of Dental Examiners, and as president of the San Bernardino City Board of Education, was always still a boy.
I couldn’t forget when, as young men, we still played baseball on the vacant lots around Base Line and Mt. Vernon Avenue (and there were plenty of vacant lots then). I remember an early morning hunting trip when he slipped up behind Lawrence Cox, who was walking with his gun slung under his arms and his hands buried in a heavy coat, and fire off a shotgun directly between Cox’s feet - as a prank.
Or another time when a party of the Cox boys, the late Harold, and Roy, Lawrence and Clifford, the late Jack Woodhouse and myself went into the High Sierra on a trout fishing trip. Woodhouse’s brother, whose name slips my memory, went along to do the camp cooking. He had been a lumberjack cook, he told us. On the first day in camp, Woodhouse lost his wallet containing several hundred dollars. Hancock found the wallet and mischievously, hud it under the seat of our car. The distraught Woodhouse looked for the wallet almost every single minute of our five-day stay in camp, even turning over boulders in his search. So busy was he hunting the missing purse that our meals were pretty skimpy.
On our last day in camp while we were loading for the return trip, Hancock told Woodhouse he was certain he could find the wallet in no time at all. He had Woodhouse turn his back while he dug it from under the seat of the car.
Realizing that Hancock had found the wallet on the day it slipped from his pocket, Woodhouse was incensed instead of pleased to recover it. It took the combined efforts of all of us to calm the cook who spent five days in the High Sierra looking for a wallet.
As the years wore on, Dr. Hancock was never too busy with his practice or civic offices to go hunting or fishing. If game was scarce we fired on coyotes and jack rabbits; if the fish weren’t biting, he could usually find a large enough pool for a swim.
And ironically, it was his love for adventure that, conceivably, could have contributed to his passing. Two years ago while on a deer hunting trip in Utah a horse fell on him, inflicting serious injuries. Two weeks ago he suffered a heart seizure while back in the same deer country.
Dr. Hancock made it back home but he was disappointed. It wasn’t his way of doing things to leave a deer hunters’ camp, which he kept in a continuous uproar, whatever the reason. He was still the boy.
Contributed by Chloe, Find A Grave Contributor #47159257
***********************************************************
Husband of Nellie(VanLeuven).
1917 World War I Draft Registration Card- Dental surgeon lived at 530 Victoria Ave. San Bernardino,CA. Married, short, medium built, with light blue eyes and light colored hair.
-------------------------------------------
San Bernardino Daily Sun (San Bernardino, CA.), P. 14, Col. 1 and P. 15, Col. 3
Mon., Nov. 5, 1962
They Tell Me
By Earl E. Buie
‘Men Are but Boys Grown Old…’
Somehow, I can’t remember the exact words of a bit of philosophy but it went something like, “Men are but boys grown old..”
And so it was with my friend of boyhood, Dr. A. E. Hancock, who went on the other day.
I can’t remember the year but it must have been sometime along about 1910 or 1911 when I met earl Hancock, as we called him, out on West Base Line where he was born. His family home was the base from which the Hancock boys, the Cox boys and the Bemis boys took off on some of our great adventures which took us along Lyle Creek all the way to its origin in the mountains.
Earl never tired of adventure. He came by his love of the outdoors naturally. His grandfather was Joseph Hancock, who had crossed the plains in a covered wagon with his wife, Elizabeth Nish Hancock, and their children, to settle on a homestead near what is today West 5th Street along Lyle Creek. Joseph Hancock, who lived to be 105, was the most noted of the early-day settlers whose descendants are the Hancock - Roberds - Bemis clan of today, the valley’s largest family.
Earl’s father, Alvin B. Hancock, regaled his children with stories of covered-wagon days and adventure. Earl never forgot them.
As a boy, he used to tell us the haycocks traced their family history back to the arrival in America of Nathaniel Hancock in 1620.
Fishing in Lyle Creek (the stream flowed all year in those days) and hunting in the wash were adventures to Earl. It was adventure when he left home to enter the University of California to study dentistry. It was adventure when he enlisted in the Army in World War I. But he longed to return to the valley of his birth. He did.
To me, the Dr. Hancock who served one appointment to the California State Board of Dental Examiners, and as president of the San Bernardino City Board of Education, was always still a boy.
I couldn’t forget when, as young men, we still played baseball on the vacant lots around Base Line and Mt. Vernon Avenue (and there were plenty of vacant lots then). I remember an early morning hunting trip when he slipped up behind Lawrence Cox, who was walking with his gun slung under his arms and his hands buried in a heavy coat, and fire off a shotgun directly between Cox’s feet - as a prank.
Or another time when a party of the Cox boys, the late Harold, and Roy, Lawrence and Clifford, the late Jack Woodhouse and myself went into the High Sierra on a trout fishing trip. Woodhouse’s brother, whose name slips my memory, went along to do the camp cooking. He had been a lumberjack cook, he told us. On the first day in camp, Woodhouse lost his wallet containing several hundred dollars. Hancock found the wallet and mischievously, hud it under the seat of our car. The distraught Woodhouse looked for the wallet almost every single minute of our five-day stay in camp, even turning over boulders in his search. So busy was he hunting the missing purse that our meals were pretty skimpy.
On our last day in camp while we were loading for the return trip, Hancock told Woodhouse he was certain he could find the wallet in no time at all. He had Woodhouse turn his back while he dug it from under the seat of the car.
Realizing that Hancock had found the wallet on the day it slipped from his pocket, Woodhouse was incensed instead of pleased to recover it. It took the combined efforts of all of us to calm the cook who spent five days in the High Sierra looking for a wallet.
As the years wore on, Dr. Hancock was never too busy with his practice or civic offices to go hunting or fishing. If game was scarce we fired on coyotes and jack rabbits; if the fish weren’t biting, he could usually find a large enough pool for a swim.
And ironically, it was his love for adventure that, conceivably, could have contributed to his passing. Two years ago while on a deer hunting trip in Utah a horse fell on him, inflicting serious injuries. Two weeks ago he suffered a heart seizure while back in the same deer country.
Dr. Hancock made it back home but he was disappointed. It wasn’t his way of doing things to leave a deer hunters’ camp, which he kept in a continuous uproar, whatever the reason. He was still the boy.
Contributed by Chloe, Find A Grave Contributor #47159257
***********************************************************
Son of Alvin Bemis and Elizabeth Penniman(Nish)Hancock.
Husband of Nellie(VanLeuven).
1917 World War I Draft Registration Card- Dental surgeon lived at 530 Victoria Ave. San Bernardino,CA. Married, short, medium built, with light blue eyes and light colored hair.
-------------------------------------------
San Bernardino Daily Sun (San Bernardino, CA.), P. 14, Col. 1 and P. 15, Col. 3
Mon., Nov. 5, 1962
They Tell Me
By Earl E. Buie
‘Men Are but Boys Grown Old…’
Somehow, I can’t remember the exact words of a bit of philosophy but it went something like, “Men are but boys grown old..”
And so it was with my friend of boyhood, Dr. A. E. Hancock, who went on the other day.
I can’t remember the year but it must have been sometime along about 1910 or 1911 when I met earl Hancock, as we called him, out on West Base Line where he was born. His family home was the base from which the Hancock boys, the Cox boys and the Bemis boys took off on some of our great adventures which took us along Lyle Creek all the way to its origin in the mountains.
Earl never tired of adventure. He came by his love of the outdoors naturally. His grandfather was Joseph Hancock, who had crossed the plains in a covered wagon with his wife, Elizabeth Nish Hancock, and their children, to settle on a homestead near what is today West 5th Street along Lyle Creek. Joseph Hancock, who lived to be 105, was the most noted of the early-day settlers whose descendants are the Hancock - Roberds - Bemis clan of today, the valley’s largest family.
Earl’s father, Alvin B. Hancock, regaled his children with stories of covered-wagon days and adventure. Earl never forgot them.
As a boy, he used to tell us the haycocks traced their family history back to the arrival in America of Nathaniel Hancock in 1620.
Fishing in Lyle Creek (the stream flowed all year in those days) and hunting in the wash were adventures to Earl. It was adventure when he left home to enter the University of California to study dentistry. It was adventure when he enlisted in the Army in World War I. But he longed to return to the valley of his birth. He did.
To me, the Dr. Hancock who served one appointment to the California State Board of Dental Examiners, and as president of the San Bernardino City Board of Education, was always still a boy.
I couldn’t forget when, as young men, we still played baseball on the vacant lots around Base Line and Mt. Vernon Avenue (and there were plenty of vacant lots then). I remember an early morning hunting trip when he slipped up behind Lawrence Cox, who was walking with his gun slung under his arms and his hands buried in a heavy coat, and fire off a shotgun directly between Cox’s feet - as a prank.
Or another time when a party of the Cox boys, the late Harold, and Roy, Lawrence and Clifford, the late Jack Woodhouse and myself went into the High Sierra on a trout fishing trip. Woodhouse’s brother, whose name slips my memory, went along to do the camp cooking. He had been a lumberjack cook, he told us. On the first day in camp, Woodhouse lost his wallet containing several hundred dollars. Hancock found the wallet and mischievously, hud it under the seat of our car. The distraught Woodhouse looked for the wallet almost every single minute of our five-day stay in camp, even turning over boulders in his search. So busy was he hunting the missing purse that our meals were pretty skimpy.
On our last day in camp while we were loading for the return trip, Hancock told Woodhouse he was certain he could find the wallet in no time at all. He had Woodhouse turn his back while he dug it from under the seat of the car.
Realizing that Hancock had found the wallet on the day it slipped from his pocket, Woodhouse was incensed instead of pleased to recover it. It took the combined efforts of all of us to calm the cook who spent five days in the High Sierra looking for a wallet.
As the years wore on, Dr. Hancock was never too busy with his practice or civic offices to go hunting or fishing. If game was scarce we fired on coyotes and jack rabbits; if the fish weren’t biting, he could usually find a large enough pool for a swim.
And ironically, it was his love for adventure that, conceivably, could have contributed to his passing. Two years ago while on a deer hunting trip in Utah a horse fell on him, inflicting serious injuries. Two weeks ago he suffered a heart seizure while back in the same deer country.
Dr. Hancock made it back home but he was disappointed. It wasn’t his way of doing things to leave a deer hunters’ camp, which he kept in a continuous uproar, whatever the reason. He was still the boy.
Contributed by Chloe, Find A Grave Contributor #47159257
***********************************************************
Husband of Nellie(VanLeuven).
1917 World War I Draft Registration Card- Dental surgeon lived at 530 Victoria Ave. San Bernardino,CA. Married, short, medium built, with light blue eyes and light colored hair.
-------------------------------------------
San Bernardino Daily Sun (San Bernardino, CA.), P. 14, Col. 1 and P. 15, Col. 3
Mon., Nov. 5, 1962
They Tell Me
By Earl E. Buie
‘Men Are but Boys Grown Old…’
Somehow, I can’t remember the exact words of a bit of philosophy but it went something like, “Men are but boys grown old..”
And so it was with my friend of boyhood, Dr. A. E. Hancock, who went on the other day.
I can’t remember the year but it must have been sometime along about 1910 or 1911 when I met earl Hancock, as we called him, out on West Base Line where he was born. His family home was the base from which the Hancock boys, the Cox boys and the Bemis boys took off on some of our great adventures which took us along Lyle Creek all the way to its origin in the mountains.
Earl never tired of adventure. He came by his love of the outdoors naturally. His grandfather was Joseph Hancock, who had crossed the plains in a covered wagon with his wife, Elizabeth Nish Hancock, and their children, to settle on a homestead near what is today West 5th Street along Lyle Creek. Joseph Hancock, who lived to be 105, was the most noted of the early-day settlers whose descendants are the Hancock - Roberds - Bemis clan of today, the valley’s largest family.
Earl’s father, Alvin B. Hancock, regaled his children with stories of covered-wagon days and adventure. Earl never forgot them.
As a boy, he used to tell us the haycocks traced their family history back to the arrival in America of Nathaniel Hancock in 1620.
Fishing in Lyle Creek (the stream flowed all year in those days) and hunting in the wash were adventures to Earl. It was adventure when he left home to enter the University of California to study dentistry. It was adventure when he enlisted in the Army in World War I. But he longed to return to the valley of his birth. He did.
To me, the Dr. Hancock who served one appointment to the California State Board of Dental Examiners, and as president of the San Bernardino City Board of Education, was always still a boy.
I couldn’t forget when, as young men, we still played baseball on the vacant lots around Base Line and Mt. Vernon Avenue (and there were plenty of vacant lots then). I remember an early morning hunting trip when he slipped up behind Lawrence Cox, who was walking with his gun slung under his arms and his hands buried in a heavy coat, and fire off a shotgun directly between Cox’s feet - as a prank.
Or another time when a party of the Cox boys, the late Harold, and Roy, Lawrence and Clifford, the late Jack Woodhouse and myself went into the High Sierra on a trout fishing trip. Woodhouse’s brother, whose name slips my memory, went along to do the camp cooking. He had been a lumberjack cook, he told us. On the first day in camp, Woodhouse lost his wallet containing several hundred dollars. Hancock found the wallet and mischievously, hud it under the seat of our car. The distraught Woodhouse looked for the wallet almost every single minute of our five-day stay in camp, even turning over boulders in his search. So busy was he hunting the missing purse that our meals were pretty skimpy.
On our last day in camp while we were loading for the return trip, Hancock told Woodhouse he was certain he could find the wallet in no time at all. He had Woodhouse turn his back while he dug it from under the seat of the car.
Realizing that Hancock had found the wallet on the day it slipped from his pocket, Woodhouse was incensed instead of pleased to recover it. It took the combined efforts of all of us to calm the cook who spent five days in the High Sierra looking for a wallet.
As the years wore on, Dr. Hancock was never too busy with his practice or civic offices to go hunting or fishing. If game was scarce we fired on coyotes and jack rabbits; if the fish weren’t biting, he could usually find a large enough pool for a swim.
And ironically, it was his love for adventure that, conceivably, could have contributed to his passing. Two years ago while on a deer hunting trip in Utah a horse fell on him, inflicting serious injuries. Two weeks ago he suffered a heart seizure while back in the same deer country.
Dr. Hancock made it back home but he was disappointed. It wasn’t his way of doing things to leave a deer hunters’ camp, which he kept in a continuous uproar, whatever the reason. He was still the boy.
Contributed by Chloe, Find A Grave Contributor #47159257
***********************************************************
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