Goldfield's History Comes Alive at the Town Cemetery

  The historic Goldfield Cemetery, located just north of the Central Nevada mining community, has some good friends.

  Unlike some old mining town cemeteries that have been ignored or have fallen into disrepair, Goldfield’s graveyard has been well-maintained and protected by residents and supporters over the years. Representatives of the local historical society have even placed small metal plaques on many of the crosses and markers giving short information about the deceased.

  The result is a cemetery that isn’t a mystery, but rather is a place where you can learn about the individuals buried there and, in learning their cause of death, get a glimpse into their lives and the time when they resided in Goldfield.

  The town, which now has a population of about 230 people, was once was the largest city in Nevada with some 20,000 residents. Gold was discovered in the region in 1902 and within a short time a vast boomtown had been constructed around the mines.

  The community experienced its heyday from about 1903 to 1910, after which the mines became less productive. The largest mining company closed its operations in 1919 and four years later a fire caused by an exploding liquor still destroyed much of the town. 

  In its early years, the town’s cemetery was located in the downtown, adjacent to the Las Vegas & Tonopah Railroad Depot. Deciding the location was not the best first impression the city wanted to make for any visitors disembarking from the train, in 1908, all of the bodies were exhumed (about 70 at that time) and relocated to the present site.

  According to local lore, the group that took on the task of moving the dead became known as the “Official Ghouls.”

  While considered one big cemetery, the Goldfield graveyard consists of more than a half-dozen smaller burial grounds that cater to various religious groups and fraternal organizations.

  Thus, there is a general area but also designated places for Catholics, Protestants, Masons, the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, Elks, Knights of Pythias, the Moose Lodge, and even members of the International Workers of the World labor organization. On the southwestern edge is a Potter’s Field.

  If you respectfully stroll through the cemetery you’ll be able to find out about such luminaries as:

  • Count Constantine de Podhorsky, a Polish nobleman turned mine promoter who was shot and killed while eating in a French restaurant on March 21, 1907 by a man who claimed the count had seduced his wife.

  • Thomas and Lucy Heslip, who both died tragically in August 1909. According to records, Lucy Heslip was sitting on her porch with two female friends one evening when a man named Patrick “Pegleg” Casey, who was drunk, came by to attempt to shoot her friend, Mrs. Alice Mann, for rejecting his advances. Casey shot Mann, injuring her, then fatally shot Lucy Helslip. He apparently tried to kill himself but failed. Upon learning his wife had been killed, Thomas Heslip decided he couldn’t live without her and killed himself the following day by ingesting cyanide.

  • The unknown man who died from eating paste. While it seems like a hoax, apparently on July 14, 1908 a man died from eating too much library paste. A doctor concluded that the man was starving and in bad physical condition when he wolfed down an entire jar of paste. The only identifying property on the man was a letter from a man named Ross. He is buried in the Potter’s Field.

  • Perhaps the strangest death—yes, even weirder than dying from eating paste—occurred on March 17, 1918 when local gravedigger and cemetery sexton John F. Meagher died while digging a grave. Meagher encountered a large boulder while digging and decided to load it with blasting powder to break it up. After lighting the fuse, he accidentally fell into the grave he was digging. As he scrambled to get out, the explosion went off and killed him. He was discovered the next day lying in the grave, which, ironically, became his final resting place.

  For more information about Goldfield’s wonderful cemetery, go to: http://www.goldfieldhistoricalsociety.com/goldfield-cemetery-stories/.

Gemfield: A Place Rockhounds Can Really Dig

  There are a couple of things that make Gemfield, an area located about four miles north of Goldfield in central Nevada, a special place for rockhounds. The primary one is that Gemfield has been described as the largest deposit of gemstone quality chalcedony in U.S.

  Additionally, at Gemfield, visitors will find no less than six different types of chalcedony, which is a fine-grained native silica quartz stone. And, even more amazing, the site is free to enter and there is only a $1 per pound fee, which you pay on the honor system.

  Getting out to Gemfield is relatively easy. You head south of Tonopah on U.S. 95, then, just before you reach Goldfield, you turn on a pretty-good dirt road that is marked with a Gemfield sign. Drive for about three miles into the foothills and you’ll reach a large sign board beneath a Joshua tree. The sign board displays rough maps showing the locations of the half-dozen different sites nearby where you can hunt for the different colors of chalcedony.

  “This mine produces gem quality chalcedony consisting of Bullseye, Multiflow, Dendritic, and Banded picture rock patterns, as well as agates, jaspers, Opalite, and more,’ the sign states. “Colors range from green, which when polished rivals jade, to the deep reds of carnelian.”

  The dig sites are on a claim on Bureau of Land Management land, so be respectful of the area.

  As you head out to Gemfield, there are a couple of things to bring with you. Since there is absolutely no shade (except near the Joshua tree), make sure to pack plenty of water and wear a hat and sunscreen.

  Also, it’s best to have a bucket in which to put your rock finds, a squirt bottle with water for cleaning the rocks to see the patterns and a geologist’s hammer or rock pick.

  Lastly, have patience. Rockhounding is an activity that involves carefully and slowly chipping at rocks so as not to damage any good finds. It’s a bit like fishing and requires sticking with it and taking your time.

  During a recent visit, we followed the directions to the various chalcedony dig sites and tried our hand at several. The sites are located in spots within a half-mile or less of the sign, so there are lots of places to check out. When you get to one, it essentially looks like a mound of broken rocks. Sometimes there are larger boulders/stones and small trenches. This is where it happens.

  One of our favorites was the site marked for Bullseye Chalcedony. Here we found a number of beautifully stripped and banded stones. In some cases the bands are red-brown against a white or tan background.

  Other mounds yielded stones that were light purple (lilac), faintly green, red, and blue tones. We’re not hard-core rock people, but we picked up a couple of pounds and looked forward to washing them off and taking up a relative’s offer of using his rock tumbler on a couple of the stones to see what they look like when they’re shiny and polished.

  There is a website for Gemfield that provides some information, at http://www.gemfieldnv.com/. Additionally, the state of Nevada’s Travel Nevada website offers additional useful tips and information at https://travelnevada.com/rockhounding-mining/gemfield/.

Classic Book Tells the Story of Reno's Most Eccentric Millionaire

   In Jack Harpster’s book, “The Curious Life of Nevada’s LaVere Redfield: the Silver Dollar King,” readers learn about the bizarre and fascinating life of a man who has been described as one of Reno’s richest and most unusual residents.

   Published in 2014, the book tells the story of Redfield, who died in 1974, and who was known for residing in an iconic stone mansion at 370 Mount Rose Street.

   During his life, it appears Redfield was seriously interested in only a couple of things—the acquisition of as much land as he could buy, purchasing and hoarding as many silver dollars as he could obtain, gambling and not paying taxes.

   Born on October 29, 1897 in Ogden, Utah, Redfield experienced serious poverty as a child. His father died when he was young and his mother was forced to raise seven children alone.

   As a young man. Redfield moved to Idaho and worked a variety of entry-level jobs, including as a potato digger and in a department store, which is where he met and married a co-worker (Nell).

   In about 1921, the couple moved to Los Angeles, where Redfield became a securities broker. It was during this time that he began shrewdly buying and trading depressed and seemingly worthless stocks that he thought had a chance to rebound.

   His investments proved particularly insightful and he truly hit the jackpot, earning his first millions, in the years immediately following the 1929 stock market crash when he paid pennies for serious depressed stocks no one wanted and later sold them when they became valuable.

   By the early 1930s, he was buying real estate at tax sales as well as bankrupt oil companies.

   In 1935, when California was considering instituting a state income tax, Redfield decided to move to Reno, which, at the time, promoted itself as a shelter for the tax weary.

   Shortly after arriving in Reno, he and his wife purchased the big stone home on Mount Rose Street, which had originally been built in 1930 or 1931 by a family named Hill.

   Redfield lived there until his death and his wife continued to live in the home until she died in 1981. Since then, family members have continued to own the property.

   After Redfield settled in Reno he soon began purchasing land at tax sales, just as he had done in California, including huge tracts of land being sold by the Southern Pacific Railroad near Mount Rose and above Lake Tahoe. Eventually, he would own more than 55,000 acres in Washoe County.

   Perhaps because he had seen so many banks close during the Depression, Redfield distrusted financial institutions and had little use for government. He abhorred paying income taxes so much that he attempted to hide his earnings.

   However, in 1960, the government caught up with him and Redfield was convicted of tax evasion. He went to jail for 18 months.

   Additionally, perhaps because he grew up poor, he was unusually thrifty—he reportedly saved money by buying dented canned food at a discount at supermarkets and was often seen driving around town in an old pickup truck, dressed like a farmer.

   Additionally, because he didn’t want the government to know his actual worth, he took to keeping large amounts of cash and coins in his home. In the 1940s, he began buying bags of uncirculated silver dollars (many minted at the former Carson City Mint) and stashing them in his house.

   Over the years, Redfield’s primary hobby and vice was gambling. According to Harpster, he was a nearly nightly visitor to downtown Reno’s casinos for many years.

   At the time of his death, executors found 680 bags of silver coins and 407,000 Morgan and Pierce silver dollars (351,259 of them un-circulated and still in original U.S. Mint bags; each bag held 1,000 coins) hidden in places throughout his 15-room stone mansion.

   His net worth was estimated to be about $70 million.

   Not surprisingly, rumors of his cash hoard circulated throughout the community—Reno was still a fairly small town in the 1950s and 60s—and in 1952, and again in 1963, his home was robbed and burglars made off with a portion of his coin cache.

   In response, Redfield began hiding his silver dollars behind false walls in his basement.

   Following Redfield’s death, once his estate had found all of the silver dollars, they sold them to a coin auction house, which gradually released them to collectors (they were sold over several years to prevent dumping too many on the collector market at one time).

   In her later years, Nell Redfield became a well-respected philanthropist, donating part of her fortune to a number of local charities and helping to establish a community college branch in South Reno.

   Jack Harpster’s “The Curious Life of Nevada’s LaVere Redfield: the Silver Dollar King” remains in print and can be found on Amazon or in most local bookstores.

Warm Springs May Fade Away But Its Rich History Remains

 

Stone corral at Warm Springs

   Not much remains of the old settlement of Warm Springs, located about 50 miles east of Tonopah on U.S. 6, at the point where it intersects with Nevada State Route 375, the beginning of the famous Extraterrestrial Highway.

   The handful of ruins are all that have survived of this former stagecoach stop that traces its beginnings to the mid-1860s.

   Not surprisingly, the area’s natural hot springs are what attracted people originally to the area. Nevada historian Shawn Hall has written that the first non-Native American folks to stop at the site were probably freight wagons and stagecoaches traveling between Eureka and Elko, attracted by the springs.

   In about 1866, a small stone house was built adjacent to the bubbling hot springs. While this settlement didn’t amount to much more than a welcome rest stop for travelers passing through this remote part of the state, a general store and lodging house were erected at Warm Springs near the end of the 19th century.

   Apparently, this little way station managed to survive during the next couple of decades. In January 1924, Warm Springs gained a post office and Ethel Allred was named postmaster of this tiny oasis.

   That, however, served as Warm Springs’ peak. Less than five years later, in June 1929, the post office was closed forever.

   Since then, there have been a few short-lived developments in the area. Sometime in the 1970s, a saloon, café, gas station and RV park opened near the old settlement site but those businesses have been closed for a long time.

   Additionally, around that time someone constructed a nice, concrete swimming pool near the café. While the pool, surrounded by nice shade trees, still looks mighty inviting to anyone who stops, unfortunately it’s on private property, surrounded by a high, locked fence and no trespassing signs.

   The actual Warm Springs spring can be seen about a quarter of a mile uphill from the swimming pool. Scalding hot water pours from the ground into a manmade ditch that leads to the pool. Rivulets of hot water also trickle into marshy land around the pool.

   The site of the former settlement of Warm Springs, located a few yards away from the pool, contains a few ramshackle wooden buildings that appear to have once been part of the early 20th century incarnation of Warm Springs.

   Additionally, you can find the tumbled-down walls of an old stone corral and piles of scrap wood and metal that may be the remains of the old store and lodging house.

   About 60 miles southeast of Warm Springs via the E.T Highway is Rachel, the self-proclaimed heart of Nevada’s UFO country. The community borders the high security military base often called Area 51, which is rumored to be where the U.S. government allegedly stashes recovered alien space ships and other secrets.

   For more information about Warm Springs, go to: https://www.rachel-nevada.com/places/warmsprings.html.

Trip to Mary Austin's 'Land of Little Rain'

  “If ever you come beyond the borders as far as the town that lies in a hill dimple at the foot of Kearsarge, never leave it until you have knocked at the door of the brown house under the willow tree at the end of the village street, and there you shall have such news of the land, of its trails and what is astir in them, as one lover of it can give to another.”— Mary Austin, The Land of Little Rain

  It’s easy to see how the Owens Valley area inspired writer Mary Austin. Bordered to the west by the craggy peaks of the Sierra Nevada range and majestic Mount Whitney, it is a land of great beauty.

  When Austin lived in the area at the end of the 19th century, Owens Lake hadn’t yet been drained to provide water to the city of Los Angeles and the area hadn’t become as dry and dusty as it is today.

  Austin spent 18 years in the small town of Independence, which is a pleasant, tree-lined community that is also the seat of Inyo County. It was during her time in Independence that she became interested in the western landscape and began writing about it.

  She arrived in the Owens Valley after her husband, Stafford Wallace Austin, was hired by the U.S. General Land Office in the 1890s. Austin soon became fascinated by Eastern California’s people and environment, and began spending considerable time listening and observing.

  Filling notebooks with stories, Austin practiced her art, eventually crafting stories that she was able to sell to national magazines. In 1903, she published “The Land of Little Rain,” a collection of short stories about the connection between the land, animals and people in the West.

  After gaining a measure of fame, Austin departed Independence but her experiences continued to flavor her work for the rest of her life. She died in New Mexico in 1934.

  Today, Austin’s presence can still be felt in Independence. The brown house under the willow tree (at 253 Market Street), which she and her husband built, remains standing. While it is a California Historical Landmark, it is also a private residence, so don’t disturb the inhabitants.

  Additionally, the nearby Eastern California Museum (155 N. Grant, about two blocks from the Mary Austin home) is an excellent place to learn more about Austin and the rich history of the region.

  The museum, founded in 1928, contains fine displays of Paiute and Shoshone basketry as well as an exhibit on Manzanar, the World War II Japanese-American internment center located five miles south of Independence.

  The five-acre grounds of the museum are covered with artifacts that help tell the region’s story.

  For instance, an extensive collection of agricultural machines and equipment remind you about the large farms that could once be found in the valley while the giant digging tools remind you about the construction of the Los Angeles Aqueduct (1908-1913), which eventually dried out the valley.

  Additionally, more than a dozen historic buildings can be found in the museum yard in a recreated pioneer village. The structures are authentic 19th century buildings relocated to the museum because they would have been destroyed if they had remained in their original settings.

  The collection of buildings includes an old general store, a blacksmith shop, an assay office, miner’s shacks, a livery stable, a barbershop and a three-hole outhouse.

  Adjacent to the pioneer village is a recreated Shoshone settlement with grass shelters and lean-tos.

  The museum gift shop offers a wide selection of books about Inyo County, including the works of Mary Austin. The museum is open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday. There is no admission charge but donations are welcome.

  Independence is located about 200 miles south of Carson City via U.S. 395.

  For more information, contact the Eastern California Museum, www.inyocounty.us/residents/things-to-do/eastern-california-museum.

The Complicated Nature of Beautiful Mono Lake

 

  Mono Lake is a true wonder. With its stark, otherworldly appearance and other attributes, it is by far one of the most complex and unique ecosystems in the American West.

  It is, at the same time, a desolate high desert lake and a vibrant, living, special environment teeming with unusual lifeforms and formations.

  Located about three hours southwest of Fallon via U.S. 50 and U.S. 395, Mono Lake traces its beginning to more than 700,000 years ago, making it one of the oldest bodies of water in North America.

  Fed by melting glaciers, the lake once measured five times its present size of about 60 square miles (geologists believe the lake covered about 338 square miles and reached a depth of 900 feet).

  In addition to having direct ties to the Ice Age, the lake also has been the site of extensive volcanic activity, starting about 13,000 years ago, which helped shape its current state.

  For example, the rounded black hills to the south are remnants of giant, uplifted volcanic craters. At one, Panum Crater, easily accessible from Highway 120, you can hike to the dome and rim of a long-dead volcano.

  The area's volcanic heritage is also evident at Black Point, at the lake's north end, which features large fissures you can walk through, and at various hot springs and steam vents found in the basin.

  The lake's trademark tufa formations, however, are its most impressive and unusual landmarks. At various places around the lake, you can find clusters of these towering calcium spires and plugs 

  Tufa is the stone formed when calcium-bearing freshwater springs bubble up through alkaline lake water that is rich with carbonates. When the two combine, limestone deposits develop, which can, over years, grow into large towers.

  Tufa formations, however, can only grow beneath the lake’s waters. When the lake level falls and the tufa is exposed to air, it ceases to grow.

  A number of interpretive trails lead to patches of tufa formations located around the lake, including a large selection near the Mono Lake County Park, at the northwest end, the Scenic Area Visitor Center in Lee Vining, and the South Tufa Area at Navy Beach (accessible from Highway 120).

  The latter contains some of the largest and most impressive tufa. Dozens of the gnarled, knobbed, and rippled tufa towers line the southern lake shore.

  Visitors can wander along the beach, wandering through the maze of formations, which, depending upon the light and your mood, can assume exotic and mysterious shapes.

  While the lake appears dead, it is actually an alkali soup of strange but fascinating lifeforms. Both the brine shrimp and brine flies flourish on its algae-laden waters.

  Additionally, the lake is popular with many species of birds (who eat the shrimp and flies), including the California gull, the eared grebe and snowy plovers. In fact, 90 percent of the state of California's population of California gulls is born at Mono Lake.

  Swimming is permitted in the lake and, because it is more than 1,000-times as salty as the Pacific Ocean, an interesting experience because you float much easier. However, rangers warn that you should keep the water out of your eyes or any cuts because it will sting.

  When you feel the lake's water you find it thicker than normal lake water. Mark Twain once wrote: "Its sluggish waters are so strong with alkali that if you only dip the most hopelessly soiled garment into them once or twice, and wring it out, it will be found as clean as if it had been through the ablest of washer woman's hands."

  Despite its unique qualities, it's a small miracle that Mono Lake continues to exist. In 1941, the City of Los Angeles began diverting water from four of the five streams that feed the lake.

  During the next few decades, the lake level dropped 40 feet and doubled in salinity. Fortunately, using legal tools, environmentalists and local community groups were able to work with the city to start the process of restoring the flow of water to the lake.

  For more information about these ongoing efforts, go to: www.monolake.org.

How Owens Valley Became a Desert Wasteland

   Driving on U.S. 395, just south of Lone Pine, California, you’ll encounter a big, open largely-alkali valley just east of the highway. The vacant white patch spreads out for miles until reaching the rising Sierra Nevada range. On many days, parts of the valley are so dry, you can see dust devils forming on the flats.

   But it wasn’t always that way out here. In fact, until the early 20th century, this area, known as Owens Valley, was the home of Owens Lake, a prosperous and verdant farming and ranching region.

   What happened to Owens Lake is a story that is interwoven with the development and rapid growth of Southern California in the 20th century. In order for one to grow and succeed, the other had to virtually disappear.

   By the late 19th century, the city of Los Angeles had begun to realize that it simply didn’t have sufficient water to support its future growth. Located in a dry basin that typically receives about 14 inches of rain annually, the city had traditionally relied on the Los Angeles River and wells for its water.

   After identifying the Owens Valley as an ideal source of water, the city began acquiring water and land rights—often using subterfuge and political pressure—in the region. Following the approval of a local bond to pay for the project in 1905, work began on building the system of canals and storage reservoirs to transport and capture Owens Valley water north to Los Angeles.

   The first phase of the project, which encompassed some 233 miles of infrastructure, was completed in 1913.

   While considered an engineering marvel, the Los Angeles Aqueduct, as the project became known, was not without controversy. Once Owen Valley farmers and residents realized the what was happening, they used legal and, in some cases, extra-legal means to stop the water transfer.

   By the 1920s, agriculture in the Owens Valley began to suffer due to the water diversions. In 1924, a group of farmers succeeded in destroying part of the aqueduct, but it was quickly repaired. Two years later, the amount of water being drawn from the valley was so substantial that Owens Lake was completely dry.

   In 1970, a second Owens Valley Aqueduct was constructed to divert even more water to Los Angeles (from surface sources and groundwater pumping). This resulted in nearly all of the Owens Valley springs and seeps to dry up and disappear.

   In response to lawsuits and political influence, in the 1980s and 90s, Inyo County, in which Owens Valley is located, and the city of Los Angeles entered into an agreement designed to provide a reliable water source to Los Angeles while also better managing groundwater pumping in Owens Valley.

   To date, those efforts have not resulted in any substantial changes to the dry valley, which continues to see groundwater pumping at a rate higher than the water resources can be recharged.

   As a result, visitors to the Owens Valley can still see the radical changes that have occurred because of such a massive siphoning of water. Owens Lake remains a barren, alkali flatland, with occasional patches of vegetation. Large dust storms rise from the dusty white lakebed. It is a place that appears out of a dystopian Science Fiction movie. But, sadly, it’s all too real.

   For more information about the history of the Owens Valley and the impacts of the Los Angeles Aqueduct, go to: https://www.inyowater.org/documents/reports/owens-valley-water-history-chronology/.