Looking backward in this way does more than teach strategy; it roots us in heritage. It creates continuity, reminding us that today’s storms are not new, and that others have endured, led, and prevailed before us. Among those leaders was Sapiah, better known as Buckskin Charley, chief of the Ute people. Long before Spanish explorers set foot in Colorado, his people lived, hunted, and roamed the high valleys and forests around Cuchara. His leadership, like that of the great figures so often studied, offers six timeless lessons for anyone willing to listen.
Grace in the Grip of Change
Chief Sapiah stands among the legendary figures of the Mouache on Colorado’s front range. Rising to leadership in the 1870s, he guided his band with wisdom and resilience for more than six decades, carrying them through one of the most turbulent chapters of Ute history until his passing in 1936.
Buckskin Charley was born around 1840, but where he drew his first breath remains a story told in three voices. Some historians, including those cited in Colorado Encyclopedia, place his birth near Tierra Amarilla, New Mexico (1), a fitting location given his Mouache Ute father and possible Apache mother, whose roots ran deep in that rugged borderland.(2) (3) A second view preserved in the collective memory of the Colorado Springs Pioneers Museum claims he entered the world near Garden of the Gods, tying his legacy to the dramatic sandstone cliffs of the Front Range.(4) A third possibility bridges the two: because the Utes were semi-nomadic, Sapiah may well have been born in New Mexico but raised in Colorado, his family moving north during his early years. Over time, childhood memories may have blended with birthplace in local storytelling, leaving us with overlapping truths rather than a single point on the map. In this way, both accounts endure, each safeguarded by different Ute bands and their oral traditions.(5) (6) However, oral history, tribal records, and a 1936 newspaper obituary that quotes Buckskin Charley himself stating he was “born in Tierra Amarilla, New Mexico” seem to lean toward New Mexico as the birthplace.(7)His father was Mouache Ute and his mother likely Apache.(8) This dual heritage helped him bridge cultures at a time when the old rhythms of Ute life were the threats of settlers and western expansion.(9)
Having earned the respect of the Southern Ute Chief Ouray, (10) he became the foremost treaty negotiator with the United States after Ouray’s death.(11) His reputation as a peacemaker was cemented when he led a rescue during the Meeker Massacre of 1879.(12) (13) Over the decades he traveled to Washington, received an Indian Peace Medal from President Harrison,(14) and rode beside Geronimo in Theodore Roosevelt’s 1905 inaugural parade.(15) Though pressured by federal allotment policies, he guided his people through land division and adopted farming on his own 160-acre tract, balancing adaptation with tradition.(16) Married first to Sarah, with whom he had three children, Julian, Frances, and Antonio (17), and later to Emma Naylor Buck (18), he remained active in Ute and Native American Church traditions. Even in old age he presided over the reinterment of Ouray in 1925(19) , and when he died in 1936 at age 96 (20) (21), his son Antonio Buck Sr. succeeded him as both hereditary chief and the first elected chairman of the Southern Ute Tribe.(22) Remembered as the “last traditional chief, Sapiah embodied cultural resilience, guiding his people with diplomacy, adaptability, and dignity through one of their most turbulent eras.(23)
If Sapiah’s mother was indeed Apache, that heritage would have deepened his perspective and given him a unique flexibility as a leader. Belonging to both Ute and Apache worlds meant that he carried ties across tribal lines, and kinship itself was often the strongest form of diplomacy. Such connections could open doors in delicate negotiations, allowing him to speak not just as a representative of one band, but as someone with family bonds that extended beyond a single nation. This background would also have enriched his understanding of different cultural traditions and possibly additional languages, enabling him to move more naturally in multi-tribal councils or in conversations with outsiders. In a time when credibility and trust determined whether agreements held or fell apart, Sapiah’s dual heritage could only have elevated his standing by commanding respect not only among his own people but also in his dealings with neighboring tribes and U.S. officials.
He came of age in a time when the old rhythms of Ute life of following game across wide valleys, and moving freely with the seasons were being steadily hemmed in by waves of miners, ranchers, and settlers.(24) Despite the encroachment, Sapiah adapted. He learned English, likely picked up Spanish, and moved easily across cultures. In government records he appeared as “Charles Buck,” but among his own people he was always Sapiah, the name often translated as “Buckskin”, a reminder of his Ute identity and the heritage he never set aside.(25)
Making it Real: In your world, this means learning to “speak two languages”, sometimes literally, often culturally. You might be the person who can sit with older ranchers and Gen Z at the same time translating concerns both ways. Perhaps listening to the viewpoints of other political affiliations. It looks like inviting the quiet voice into the meeting, using shared kinships (kids’ teams, church, HOA, trail work) to open tense conversations, and reframing “us vs. them” as “all of us.” You study a bit of the other side’s history, pick up key phrases, and build enough trust that when fires, budgets, or bylaws flare up, you’re the bridge everyone can safely cross.
Pragmatic Concession
Great leaders don’t get stuck trying to negotiate unreasonable or unlikely demands. They acknowledge that progress sometimes requires supporting or tolerating measures you don’t fully agree with in order to achieve larger goals. Chief Sapiah was that kind of leaderBorn around 1840, Sapiah rose to become one of the most influential leaders of the Southern Ute people. First chosen as chief of the Muache band and later recognized as principal chief of all the Southern Ute bands, he stood at the crossroads of two worlds. For more than half a century, Sapiah acted as a steady bridge between his people and the United States government. In an era when Ute lands, traditions, and autonomy were under constant assault, his voice of diplomacy and measured leadership became essential. Through tireless negotiation and careful adaptation, he helped guide the Southern Utes through one of the most turbulent chapters of their history, ensuring not only their survival but also the endurance of their identity in the face of overwhelming external pressures.
Making it Real: In everyday life, this shows up when you realize that getting everything your way might actually stall progress. It’s the committee chair who agrees to shorten a cherished program so that the budget balances, the parent who compromises on curfew to keep communication open with a teenager, or the manager who accepts a less-than-perfect plan because it moves the project forward. Pragmatic concession doesn’t mean giving up your values. But it does require having the wisdom to discern which hills are worth dying on, and which compromises create the momentum that keeps families, workplaces, or communities moving toward a greater good.
Courageous Diplomacy
By the early 1870s, Sapiah’s leadership was already unmistakable and obvious to other bands of the Ute nation. Chief Ouray of the Uncompahgre Utes himself recognized him as the rightful head of the Muache band, a mark of respect that carried great weight among the Utes.(26) When Ouray died in 1880, it was Sapiah who stepped into the difficult role of principal treaty negotiator, a position that soon made him the foremost voice of the Southern Utes in their dealings with the United States.(27)One of Sapiah’s defining moments came a year earlier during the crisis known as the Meeker Massacre at the White River Agency in 1879. As violence erupted between Utes and federal officials, women and children were taken captive in the chaos. Sapiah led a rescue party to secure their release, choosing the path of peace at a time when mistrust and bloodshed threatened to consume both sides.(28) That act of courage and restraint did more than save lives, it established his reputation with U.S. authorities as a “man of peace,” and it showed his own people that diplomacy, guided by strength and wisdom, could sometimes protect them more than the sword.(29)
Making it Real: In modern life, courageous diplomacy means choosing calm negotiation when emotions run high. It’s the neighbor who diffuses a heated HOA meeting by calmly listening to both sides, or the employee who dares to speak up in a tense boardroom but frames their words in a way that preserves dignity and invites cooperation. It’s the friend who steps between two arguing relatives at Thanksgiving, not with anger, but with steady words that ease the tension. Courageous diplomacy doesn’t shrink from conflict, it walks into it with bravery and a steady voice, proving that real strength can be found in peacemaking.
Adaptability Without Abandonment
Sapiah’s life brought him face to face with some of the most powerful leaders in the United States. Time and again he traveled to Washington, D.C., carrying the voice of the Southern Utes into the halls of government.(30) His presence left a mark and he was awarded a Rutherford B. Hayes Indian Peace Medal in 1890 by President Benjamin Harrison, a symbol of recognition for his role as a mediator and statesman.(31) Fifteen years later, he rode alongside Geronimo in President Theodore Roosevelt’s inaugural parade, a striking image of Native leadership and resilience on the national stage.(32)Yet those honors only hint at the difficult work Sapiah shouldered. As federal policies sought to confine Native peoples to reservations and divide their lands into small allotments, it was Sapiah who bore the responsibility of guiding his people through the upheaval. In the 1890s and early 1900s, he navigated the painful process of land allocation in southern Colorado, negotiated the boundaries of Ute reservations, and encouraged the transition to farming and ranching on smaller tracts of land.(33) He himself established a ranch on his allotted 160 acres, embodying the role that government agents called the “Christian farmer–chief.”(34) For Sapiah, however, it was less about fitting a government mold and more about ensuring his people found a way to endure in a rapidly changing world.
Making it Real: In our world, this principle means learning new skills and adapting to modern systems without losing sight of who you are. It’s the family that embraces solar panels and online bill pay but still gathers for Sunday dinners steeped in tradition. It’s the professional who navigates new workplace technologies like AI, yet insists on mentoring face-to-face so wisdom isn’t lost to screens. It’s the community that welcomes growth and new neighbors while still honoring the history that gave it identity. Adaptability without abandonment looks like bending with change while keeping your roots deep enough to hold fast.
Connecting Past and Future
Sapiah’s personal life reflected the same resilience and adaptability that marked his public leadership. By 1885 he was married to Sarah, known among the Utes as Pah-Ho-Se, and together they raised three children: Julian, born around 1872; Frances, often called Trinidad, born around 1876; and Antonio, or San Antonio, born around 1878.(35) Years later, in the early 1900s, Sapiah remarried. His second wife, Emma Naylor Buck, known in Ute as Te-Wee or To-Wee, shared with him both companionship and a deepening spiritual journey.(36)In his later years, Sapiah and Emma became active participants in the Native American Church and continued to honor Ute traditions through the Sun Dance, reflecting a life balanced between adaptation and rootedness. His children, meanwhile, engaged with the growing influence of Christian missions and schools, especially his son Julian, signaling the shifting cultural currents the Utes navigated in the early twentieth century.(37)
Even in old age, Sapiah remained a figure of authority and respect. In 1925 he oversaw the solemn reinterment of Chief Ouray’s remains at the Ouray Memorial Cemetery in Ignacio, Colordo, a symbolic act linking the past generation of Ute leadership with the present.
Sapiah lived to the remarkable age of 96, passing away on May 8, 1936.(39) He was laid to rest beside Chief Ouray in Ignacio, his life story permanently intertwined with the legacy of Ute leadership.(40) His son Antonio Buck Sr. succeeded him, not only as hereditary chief but also as the first elected chairman of the Southern Ute Tribe, ensuring that Sapiah’s line carried forward both the traditions and the evolving governance of his people.(41)
Making it Real: In modern life, this means honoring where you’ve come from while investing in what’s ahead. It’s the grandparent who tells family stories so the next generation knows their roots, yet also learns to FaceTime the grandkids so connection isn’t lost. It’s the church, club, or HOA that treasures long-standing traditions but also updates its systems so new members feel welcome. It’s a leader who celebrates heritage days while supporting STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) programs in local schools. Bridging past and future is about carrying yesterday’s wisdom into tomorrow’s opportunities, making sure neither is forgotten.
Leading Beyond the Grave
For more than fifty years, Sapiah guided the Southern Ute people through one of the most turbulent eras in their history. His leadership spanned a time of shrinking homelands, forced adaptation, and relentless cultural upheaval. Yet in the midst of these storms, he became a steady presence, a leader who could hold firmly to Ute identity while also negotiating a path forward in a world dominated by U.S. expansion.Sapiah’s gift was his ability to serve as both a cultural and political bridge. He fought to preserve Ute autonomy wherever possible, yet he also recognized when strategic adaptation was the only way to ensure survival. In doing so, he left an indelible mark on the future of his people, guiding them through painful transitions while keeping their sense of dignity and continuity intact.
Today, he is often remembered as the “last traditional chief” of the Southern Utes, a title that underscores not only his deep roots in ancestral ways but also the weight of responsibility he carried as those ways were being tested.(42) His life stands as a testament to how Indigenous leadership could navigate the impossible choices of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, balancing the preservation of heritage with the demands of an encroaching new world.
Making it Real: In today’s world, this principle shows up whenever you hold onto what matters most while wisely adjusting to what cannot be avoided. It’s the small-town leader who preserves the community’s historic main street even as they welcome new businesses. It’s the parent who insists on family values while helping their kids navigate social media responsibly. It’s the nonprofit that protects the land with age-old conservation practices but uses modern data tools to do it more effectively. Balancing heritage and change is about refusing to let identity be erased, even as you step forward into an uncertain future with resilience and clarity. It’s about giving the next generation opportunity instead of obligation.(43)
Footnotes
Parenthetical numbers in the text (e.g., 5) correspond to the sequentially numbered citations listed below.
1. Virginia McConnell Simmons, *The Ute Indians of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico* (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2000), 153.
2 Virginia McConnell Simmons, The Ute Indians of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2000), 153.
3. “Sapiah,” Wikipedia, last modified August 24, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapiah.
4. Colorado Springs Pioneers Museum, “Shan Kive Festival and Parade,” accessed September 28, 2025, https://www.cspm.org/cos-150-story/shan-kive/ “Sapiah,” Wikipedia, last modified August 24, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapiah.
5. Marshall Sprague, *The Utes Must Go!* (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1976), 45.
6. Robert W. Delaney, The Southern Ute People (Phoenix: Indian Tribal Series, 1974), 61.
7 The San Luis St. Público (San Luis, CO), January 17, 1936, Colorado Historic Newspapers Collection, https://www.coloradohistoricnewspapers.org/?a=d&d=STP19360117.2.117&e=-------en-20--1--img-txIN%7CtxCO%7CtxTA--------0------.
8. Marshall Sprague, *The Utes Must Go!* (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1976), 45.
9. Duane A. Smith, Rocky Mountain Mining Camps: The Urban Frontier (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1967), 45–47.
10.. Richard Young, The Ute Indians of Colorado in the Twentieth Century (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1997), 12.
11. “Sapiah,” Wikipedia; University of Tulsa, Department of Special Collections, “Buckskin Charlie (Sapiah), 1840–1936,” Archival Catalog, https://utulsa.as.atlas-sys.com/repositories/2/resources/487.
12. Robert Emmitt, The Last War Trail: The Utes and the Settlement of Colorado (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1954), 278–80.
13. “Chief Sapiah Led Ute Indians,” Okie Legacy, accessed September 28, 2025, http://okielegacy.org/journal/tabloid/index.php?ID=560.
14. Smithsonian Institution, National Museum of the American Indian, Indian Peace Medal records, accessed September 2025.
15. “Buckskin Charlie,” Autry Museum of the American West Collections, accessed September 28, 2025, https://theautry.org/research/collections/buckskin-charlie.
16. Simmons, The Ute Indians of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico, 152–55.
17. Sapiah,” Wikipedia, last modified August 24, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapiah.
18. Sapiah,” Wikipedia, last modified August 24, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapiah.
19. Forrest Cuch, A History of Utah’s American Indians (Salt Lake City: Utah State Division of Indian Affairs and Utah State Division of History, 2000), 209.
20. Obituary, *Durango Herald*, May 9, 1936.
21. “Sapiah (Buckskin Charley),” Find a Grave, Memorial ID 11123190, accessed September 28, 2025, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/11123190/sapiah.
22. Autry Museum of the American West Collections, “Buckskin Charlie.”
23. Simmons, The Ute Indians of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico, 159.
31. “Sapiah,” Wikipedia, last modified August 24, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapiah.
32. “Buckskin Charlie,” Autry Museum of the American West Collections, accessed September 28, 2025, https://theautry.org/research/collections/buckskin-charlie.
33. Simmons, The Ute Indians of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico, 152–55.
34. Simmons, The Ute Indians of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico, 152–55.
35. Sapiah,” Wikipedia, last modified August 24, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapiah.
36. University of Northern Colorado, James A. Michener Library, “Colorado Indians – Families & Children,” Archival Collection, accessed September 28, 2025, https://archives.unco.edu.
37. Sapiah,” Wikipedia, last modified August 24, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapiah.
38. Forrest Cuch, A History of Utah’s American Indians (Salt Lake City: Utah State Division of Indian Affairs and Utah State Division of History, 2000), 209.
39. Obituary, *Durango Herald*, May 9, 1936.
40. “Sapiah (Buckskin Charley),” Find a Grave, Memorial ID 11123190, accessed September 28, 2025, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/11123190/sapiah.
41, Autry Museum of the American West Collections, “Buckskin Charlie.”
42. Simmons, The Ute Indians of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico, 159.
43. Author’s note: In preparing this article, the author used AI-assisted tools for research support, proofreading, fact-checking, and stylistic refinement. The narrative, analysis, and historical interpretations are the author’s own, and responsibility for accuracy rests solely with the author. The blog’s research methodology statement is available at:
https://cabininthepinescuchara.blogspot.com/2019/03/methodology-sources-and-use-of-research.html







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