Why a former sheriff is remembered as ‘the Wyatt Earp of Madison County’
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Editor’s note: This is the thirteenth in a series of stories about former lawmen in eastern Idaho.
ARCHER — Keith Munns sits in a leather recliner in the home that once belonged to his grandfather.
The 82-year-old Archer man is the grandson of Harry Munns, one of Madison County’s earliest and most legendary lawmen. Harry served as the county’s second sheriff from 1918-1932.
Harry died before Keith was born, but he’s grown up hearing many stories about how his grandfather always caught the man he was after and became known as “the Wyatt Earp of Madison County.”
“I understand he was the kind of sheriff that did a lot of trickery to catch his suspects. He carried a gun but he never did shoot anyone,” Keith recalls.
Keith tells a story about the time his grandfather boarded a train in pursuit of a suspect. Harry found the man and pretended to be a vagrant in search of work. Harry sat next to him and visited with him the entire train ride. When they arrived at their destination, Harry acted as if they were longtime friends.
A 1970s article from the Upper Snake River Valley Historical Society reveals more details about the incident. Harry was serving as a deputy to I.N. Corey at the time. The suspect was a horse thief and he’d hopped a train in Rexburg headed for Montpelier. Corey sent Harry after him with a warrant and $50 for expenses. When the train arrived in Montpelier, he “loafed around the streets until he found his man.”
Harry approached him and started a conversation.
“Any work around here?” Harry asked the suspect. “I’d do about anything for a few meals and a bed. I heard there are plenty of jobs up around Blackfoot and Rexburg.”
“Don’t go there,” the suspect is reported to have said. “No work up there.”
Harry was chummy with the horse thief as he walked around town with him for a while and then asked if he would walk to the depot with him to meet a friend coming in on the next train.
“When the train chugged to a stop, Harry turned quickly, snapped his hidden handcuffs on the thief’s wrists and marched him onto the train,” the historical society reports.
In a separate incident as sheriff years later, Harry was searching for a migrant worker near Heise Hot Springs who had “terrorized the community, and was headed over the dryfarm land going east over the Sunnydell Hill.”
Sheriff Munns borrowed some old raggedy clothes from a farmer and drove after him. When he could see the “hard looking Mexican” up the road, he pretended his car wouldn’t start. He got out and opened the hood while he looked inside.
As the man approached, Harry acted scared.
“So well did (Harry) act the part of a frightened, goofy farmer that the man decided he could (steal) the car,” the article says. “The thug held a gun on him while (Harry) tinkered at the spark plugs. Wanting the car for a get-away, the greedy crook holstered his gun to help start the old relic.”
That’s when Sheriff Munns grabbed the gun and threw it out of sight. The men fought each other, but Harry eventually handcuffed the man. The migrant reportedly spoke “the nastiest words a man could utter” on the way to the jail.
It was the toughest criminal Harry had ever dealt with, according to the historical society, but his talent for trickery and deception led to the successful capture.
A large, stern man whose eyes ‘could burn holes in a blanket’
Keith says there was another characteristic his grandfather had that made him an intimidating opponent.
“He had really dark brown eyes, almost black. He could look at a person and almost make them confess,” says Keith. “He had a real mean look.”
Harry’s oldest son, Alvin — who passed away many years ago — made a similar statement in a 1969 interview. He describes Harry as a large man who weighed about 210 pounds and had a long, black mustache.
“He wore a big Stetson hat. He was very stern,” Alvin said at the time. “When he spoke, you knew he meant what he said. His eyes were black, could burn holes in a blanket. He could almost pierce a hole right into you.”
Evidence of Harry’s intimidating glare is illustrated in the account when Harry heard reports of a man north of Rexburg who was stealing hogs. Harry followed the man all day long without saying a word. The man ultimately confessed because he couldn’t stand Harry’s brooding presence.
There was also a time when three boys escaped from a reform school in St. Anthony. They walked 27 miles and by nightfall, they entered a home in Archer. Sheriff Munns walked in the door and was surprised to see the boys eating dinner with his family. It was his house they’d unknowingly entered, the account says.
Harry let the boys finish dinner before questioning them about some tools reported stolen from Madison High School. Over the next week, the boys returned many of the tools. The most expensive ones were still missing even though one of the boys denied he had any of them and insisted they’d brought all of them back.
“Grimly, (Harry) looked the lad in the eye and called the janitor. ‘Got a scythe around here?’ Astonished, the janitor asked why he wanted a scythe. Harry winked at him, turned to the boy and said in a thundering voice, ‘God hates a liar, and I’m going to mow his lying head right off!’ the article reports.
As the janitor went looking for the scythe, the boy became hysterical and confessed. The tools were found in a cave where the boys had hidden them.
Sheriff Munns’ early life
The seeds of Harry’s career in law enforcement were planted in his boyhood before he ever lived in Idaho.
Harry was born on March 4, 1872, as Alvin had said. Harry’s family immigrated to the U.S. from England when he was little. His parents sought a new life in Utah after joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
They lived in Lehi for a time, where Harry often got into mischief. He frequently ran around with a group of friends who looked for ways to pull pranks on people.
“Often playing hooky (from school), he spent his time out roping and riding calves. He spent one night in jail for his game of truancy,” the historical society reports.
Four of the mischievous boys in that group, including Harry, later became sheriffs, according to the article.
Later, Harry’s family moved to Smithfield, where he was appointed town marshal. His tendency for trickery and pulling pranks became an integral part of his approach to law enforcement in those early years.
The historical account points out a time when Harry had to arrest an insane woman who was bashing the windows of a local saloon with a broom because she believed her imagined husband was barricading himself inside.
“I am Jesus Christ. I want that man out of there,” she is reported to have screamed.
Harry called out to the imaginary husband, saying, “Joe, it’s time you headed home right now!”
Once the woman was convinced her pretend husband had gone home, Harry asked her if he could walk her home. She agreed only if he would waltz with her.
“Harry and the maniacal woman threw their arms around each other and danced their way down the street,” the report says.
Finding a home in the Snake River Valley
Harry’s uncle George had found a home in Archer years earlier and frequently mesmerized the family with his tales of fertile land and generous water in the mountains of the Snake River Valley. Harry moved his family to Archer in April 1910, where he got a job in the sugar factory.
“Through his job, he became acquainted with county officials, creating his first appointment as city marshal of Rexburg,” the historical society reports.
On Nov. 7, 1913, growth in the area prompted the creation of Madison County, its website says. Voters approved it in the general election and then Idaho Governor John Haines signed a bill officially forming the Gem State’s 33rd county.
Six days later, Gov. Haines appointed the county’s first officials. Among them was its first sheriff, Ira Corey. He and the other county officials took office on Jan. 5, 1914.
“Sometime the next spring, Mr. Corey asked my father to be deputy,” Alvin says in an old interview. “When Mr. Corey declined to run for sheriff … my father was elected.”
Sheriff Munns’ legacy
In 1932, after 14 years in office, Harry decided to step down and live a quiet life on the family farm in Archer. He was now 60 and in December that year, he had a heart attack and died.
“He set down on the chair in the hallway by the furnace … and just toppled over on the floor dead,” Alvin recalled. “He always said that when his time comes that he would like to go out like a light. He sure got his wish.”
Today, many of Harry’s descendants live in Archer and surrounding communities. A great-grandson, Lewis Brunson, once worked as a deputy with the Madison County Sheriff’s Office, according to Keith.
Keith and his wife, Ruth, launched the Three Bar Quarter Horse brand in 1962. His daughter, Becky Miller, and her husband, Dan, run the ranch today. They host a horse sale every Labor day weekend at the Madison County Fairgrounds.
As Keith reflects on his grandfather’s life, he says it’s his example of honesty and “being a respectable citizen” that stands out most to him.
He recalls an experience he had in high school that he feels is a tribute to Harry and his posterity.
“I and a couple of friends decided to take a couple of days and go through (Yellowstone National Park). I got into Island Park and discovered I hadn’t taken any cash with me. I had a checkbook and stopped at a business to ask if I could cash a check. I showed it to the cashier and the Munns name was all they needed (to see),” he says. “I wrote out a check and she cashed it. It made such an impression on me.”
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