One of the compelling factors that keeps me digging into Utah art history, is when I come upon mysterious stories, like that of Florence Truelson. My bible, Artists of Utah, by Olpin, Swanson, and Seifrit, describes her only briefly, as a celebrated artist who was part of the WPA programs in Utah during the [first] Great Depression. The attractive, bright-eyed Truelson appears in Dan E. Burke’s Utah Art of the Depression as an illustrator of early Utah pioneer furniture for inclusion in the Utah Index of American Design, a national project during the WPA period. Elzy Bird, her administrator in the WPA, remarked that she was very talented but remained largely unknown.

One of the extant Truelson paintings easily viewable is owned by Salt Lake County (and is on the 4th floor of the County’s north building). It shows two gypsy-like ladies, dancing on a sandbar in a lake, with a backdrop of the Tetons. Bouquets of roses adorn the foreground with what appears to be a smiling Afghan canine behind the dancers. Truelson was born in 1901 and by 1920, when she lived on Lake Street, was always gaining a reputation and earning rewards. For a time, Truelson maintained a studio on Second South, between Main and State in Salt Lake. During this time — and you’ll probably have to be older than 50 to remember — Truelson created the murals in the iconic, Mayflower Café, located for years at 154 South Main. The murals depicted a pilgrim genre that even I remember as a kid. She also participated in retouching some of the Capitol Building murals. When Truelson sold a painting it wasn’t cheap. One painting we know of was sold for $5,000, back east where she apparently enjoyed some notoriety. Using these proceeds, Truelson purchased some land west of Redwood Road, near First South.

Everything sounds fairly normal to this point. Fast forward to March, 1944 when the headline in a Salt Lake newspaper read, “Eccentric SL Woman Artist Disappears From Self-Built ‘House of Seven Crooked Gables.’ According to several news reports, Truelson had constructed a mysterious house out of scraps and used boards, purchased, according to gallery owner David Ericson, from Ketchum’s, a long-time salvager of building materials whose warehouse was located on the west side of town. Fellow Art NURD, Gary Swenson, says that years ago when a friend of his operated a downtown antique business, he reported observing a street lady dragging a wagon with boards and scraps around the downtown area. Her bright white makeup – not unlike a Geisha girl – startled many. Apparently, Truelson would collect discarded building materials and truck them two miles west where, acting as architect, carpenter, and mason, she used them to construct her home. The house became a tourist attraction. She was also known to have “fed” bread and milk to the trees on Main Street. Hmmmm……

Even though Truelson’s neighbors reported that they very much enjoyed “early morning melodies” played on her antique grand piano — which she cemented to her dirt floor with iron bolts to keep from being stolen – her habit of wandering about her yard at night with a shotgun in hand, looking for intruders, was less welcome.

When Truelson, who was on relief, didn’t pick up her check for two months, the Salt Lake Police were called in to investigate her disappearance. They approached Truelson’s house and, failing to locate a door, pulled off some boards from a small window and climbed into the dark dwelling using a ladder. There was evidence of wiring in the home but no lights. Only the daylight seeping in from the numerous cracks in the loosely-constructed boards provided enough light for the cops to look around. The support beams, they reported, were tree trunks. The second story had to be entered by a trapdoor and ladder. Lots of litter was found, along with several exquisite paintings. Some were stacked against the wall adjacent to the dirt floor, and several others were located behind the anchored piano. The paintings varied from intense, sinister, deep-blue mountains to white pastel fishermen. No one was located in the house and the police re-boarded the exterior. The article ends in a mystery. The artist/occupant was still missing.

What happened in 1944 remains a mystery. The next we hear of Truelson is in 1959, when several articles reported that the artist, who by then had been committed to the state hospital in Provo, was missing once again. She had wandered off one day and her body was not found for nine months. Skeletal remains found by hikers in Slate Canyon were identified by her dental records. Friends also commented that the black and white apparel, and black and white shoes looked like her trademark attire. Utah County ruled she had died of natural causes as a result of exposure to the elements.

Looking at Truelson’s well-composed painting of the dancers, and reading of her contributions to the WPA programs, it is difficult to believe how such a talented artist could have drifted so far into a desperate world of paranoia and obsession. As a result of this research, I’m seeking further information to understand this strange saga. .

If you notice me questioning any artists’ sanity, you need to understand I was so moved by this story that I don’t want to see anyone ever fall off the med wagon and start on this slippery slope.

Tom Alder

Tom Alder, a Salt Lake City native, left a 30-year mortgage banking career in 2009 to open Alderwood Fine Art, specializing in early Utah art. He held an MA in Art History, taught at the University of Utah, and served on various boards in the cultural community. He died in 2018.