The Worst of It

In warm weather —and it is hardly ever cold in their tropic valley —the men wear only a breech-clout, and the women a single garment generally made of flaming bandannas bought in the piece. They dress their long hair in curious ropes, and plaster the scalp with mud, tattoo the chin in wild patterns, and have no ornaments save fichus, which they make with great skill from tiny glass beads.

They have been practicing cremation from time immemorial, and were just having a funeral near East Bridge. The corpse, dressed in its best, was stretched on top of a huge pile of dry old ties from the railroad, and the chief mourner touched a torch to the heap of dry brush at the bottom. As the flames sprang aloft and hissed and roared, the mourners stood in a gloomy ring, chanting a wild refrain ; and as the savage fire and savage song went on, they threw upon the pyre from time to time all the earthly possessions of the deceased, and one by one their own garments and ornaments.

Passing the strange, jagged spires of peaks, which are called the Needles because two of them have natural eyelets, —though these are visible only from the canon, and not from the railroad, —I crossed the 1300-foot drawbridge, now abandoned for a fine new cantilever, a dozen miles below, and stood upon the there forbidding soil of California. A night at the rather pretty little railroad town of Needles, and I started off again into the grim Mojave Desert. It was the beginning of two hundred miles whose sufferings far outweighed all that had gone before . . .

A TRAMP
ACROSS THE CONTINENT
BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS

Hazards of Helen

A few miles east of Shoshone is Chicago Valley, which began in a startling swindle and ended in fame and fortune for one defrauded victim.

A convincing crook from the Windy City found government land open to entry and called it Chicago Valley. It was a desolate area; the only living thing to be seen was an occasional coyote skulking across or a vulture flying over. The promoter needed no capital other than a good front, glib tongue, and the ability to lie without the flicker of a lash.

A few weeks later, Chicago widows with meager endowments, scrub women with savings, and some who coughed too much from long hours in sweatshops began to receive beautifully illustrated pamphlets that described a tropical Eden with lush fields, cooling lakes, and more to the point, riches almost overnight. For $100, anyone concerned would be located.

Soon people began to swing off The Goose, as the dinky train serving Shoshone was called, and head for Chicago Valley. Among the victims was a widow named Holmes with a family of attractive, intelligent children. One of these was a vivacious, beautiful teenager named Helen.

The Holmes were handicapped because of tuberculosis in the family. This, in fact, had induced the widow to invest her savings.

Herman Jones used to ride by the Holmes’ place en route to the Pahrump Ranch on hunting trips and owning several burros; he thought the Holmes’ children would like to have one. Taking the donkey over, he told Helen, “You can use him to work the ranch too. Better and faster than a hoe….” He brought a harness and a cultivator, and showed her how to use the implement.

It was inevitable that investors in Chicago Valley would lose their time, labor, and money.

Thus when Helen Holmes returned the burro to Herman one day, Herman was not surprised when she told him she was on her way to Los Angeles to look for a job.

“But what can you do?”

“I wish I knew. I can get a job washing dishes or waiting on tables.”

Shortly afterward, he heard from her—just a little note saying she was a hello girl on a switchboard. “Knew she’d land on her feet,” Herman grinned, and having a bottle handy, he gurgled a toast to Helen. He had to tell the news, of course, and with each telling, he produced the bottle.

So he was in a pleasant mood when somebody suggested a spot of poker. To mention poker in Shoshone is to have a game, and in a little while, Dad Fairbanks, Dan Modine, deputy sheriff Herman, and two or three others were shuffling chips over in the Mesquite Club.

Herman had the luck and quit with $700. “Fellows,” he said as he folded his money, “take a last look at this roll. You won’t see it again.”

“Oh, you’ll be back,” Fairbanks said.

But Herman didn’t come back. Instead, he went to Los Angeles, and found Helen at the switchboard. She confided excitedly that she had a chance to get into the movies as soon as she could get some nice clothes.

“Fine,” Herman said. “When can I see you?” He made a date for dinner, had a few more drinks and when he met her he had a comfortable binge and a grand idea. “… Listen, Helen. You wouldn’t get mad at a fool like me if I meant well, would you?”

“Why Herman—you know I wouldn’t,” she laughed.

“I’m a little likkered and it’s kinda personal….”

“But you’re a gentleman, Herman—drunk or sober….”

“I’ve been thinking of this picture business. I nicked Dad Fairbanks in a poker game. You know how I am. Lose it all one way or another. You take it and buy what you need, and it’ll do us both some good.”

The refusal was quick. “It’s sweet of you, Herman, but not that. I just couldn’t.”

“You can borrow it, can’t you … so I won’t drink it up?”

The argument won, and soon theatergoers all over the world were clutching their palms as they watched the hair-raising escapes from death that pictured “The Perils of Pauline”—the serial that made Helen Holmes one of the immortals of the silent films. She died at 58 on July 8, 1950.

The Captivity of Olive Oatman

A Harrowing Tale of Survival and Resilience

Introduction

The story of Olive Oatman, a young girl who endured unimaginable hardships during her captivity among Native American tribes in the mid-19th century, has become an emblem of resilience and survival. This blog post delves into the gripping account of Olive Oatman’s captivity, shedding light on the challenges she faced and the strength she exhibited throughout her ordeal.

The Oatman Family’s Journey

In 1850, the Oatman family embarked on a treacherous journey from Illinois to California, seeking a better life in the West. Unfortunately, their dreams were shattered when they encountered a Native American tribe, the Yavapai, along the Gila River in present-day Arizona. The tribe, driven by desperation and a history of violence against settlers, attacked the Oatman family. All but Olive and Mary Ann were brutally killed. Brother Lorenzo also survived but was left for dead listening to his mothers cries as she held her infant in the rocks where they were thrown.

Oatman family massacre site – Mick Wedley photo

Captivity Among the Yavapai

The Yavapai tribe took Olive, and her younger sister, Mary Ann, captive, subjecting them to constant fear and uncertainty. A year after their capture, they were traded to the Mohave tribe.

Life Among the Mohave

Mohave Indians

Under the care of the Mohave tribe, Olive and Mary Ann were gradually integrated into their new community. The Mohave people treated them with relative kindness, adopting them as members of their tribe and providing them with food and shelter. Olive even received facial tattoos, which were traditional among the Mohave, symbolizing her assimilation into their culture.

Rescue and Reintegration

After five years of captivity, Olive’s story took a dramatic turn when her younger sister, Mary Ann, tragically passed away due to starvation. Determined to return to her white heritage, Olive caught the attention of American authorities, urged by Lorenzo, and eventually negotiated her release. Upon her return to white society, Olive faced challenges in readjusting to her former life. Her facial tattoos, a constant reminder of her captivity, presented a unique hurdle in her reintegration.

Legacy and Impact

The story of Olive Oatman’s captivity quickly captivated the public’s imagination, symbolizing resilience and endurance in the face of adversity. Her tale was widely publicized, and she became somewhat of a celebrity during her lifetime. Olive’s memoir, “Captivity of the Oatman Girls,” published in 1857, further immortalized her experiences and shed light on the often misunderstood dynamics between Native American tribes and settlers during that era.

Conclusion

The captivity of Olive Oatman stands as a testament to the indomitable spirit of human will. Her story serves as a reminder of the strength and resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable hardship. Olive Oatman’s legacy endures, inspiring generations to overcome adversity and find courage even in the darkest of times.

(c)Walter Feller

The Captivity of the Oatman Girls

Olive Oatman

Hula Ville

After retiring as a ‘carny,’ or carnival worker at the Venice Pier and Santa Monica Pier, Miles Mahan (1896-1997) began building Hula Ville in 1955.

Wine- and beer-bottle tree sculptures adorned Joshua trees and wooden posts. Desert sandblasted wood signs held poetry and prose; dolls, award statues, and other found objects were displayed outside. A homemade miniature golf course bordered by half-buried bottles was included in his residence, as well as a pickup truck camper and a pickup truck camper without a truck. There was no charge, and donations were accepted.

Mahan also erected a large dancing hula girl sign at the entrance, a business discard he rescued and repurposed. The crude hand-lettered sign beneath her read: “People travel through the state, how little will they know her fate, for the traveler who’ll ever be the wiser, the Supervisors saved her life.” Busses traveling to Las Vegas from Los Angeles would stop, and Miles would entertain them by dancing on his little wooden stage, and they would leave tips. Even in his eighties, he was still able to dance. As much as he enjoyed guessing people’s weights at carnivals, he enjoyed watching Hesperia grow into a city. His poetry and books mention the many people he met along the way, with whom he loved talking about real estate. Whiskey Pete and Scotty from Death Valley were his friends, and Miles was quite a storyteller. These were all true stories. He appeared on the Johnny Carson Show as Johnny invited him back due to his outspoken personality 2 or 3 times. They would send a limo to pick him up and return him.

In 1995 Miles Mahan moved to a convalescent home and died on April 15, 1997. In September 1997, Hula Ville was demolished.

Jackrabbit Homesteads

Jackrabbit Homesteads, a unique phenomenon in the American Southwest, hold a significant place in the region’s history and culture. These small, rustic cabins were built on public lands in the mid-20th century. They offered settlers the opportunity to claim a piece of the desert and forge their own paths. We will explore the intriguing story behind these homesteads and their enduring legacy.

The establishment of Jackrabbit Homesteads dates back to the passage of the Small Tract Act of 1938, which aimed to encourage settlement on federal lands. Under this act, individuals could claim up to five acres of land and build a dwelling upon it. Many of these homesteads were constructed between the 1950s and 1970s, attracting individuals seeking a simpler, off-grid lifestyle or a weekend getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life.

Jackrabbit Homesteads were typically modest, one-room cabins constructed from inexpensive materials such as concrete blocks or plywood. These structures were often sparsely furnished, reflecting the self-sufficient nature of the homesteaders who built them. Although lacking in modern amenities, these homesteads provided a sense of freedom and a connection to the surrounding natural landscape.

Living on a Jackrabbit Homestead required resourcefulness and willingness to adapt to harsh desert conditions. Homesteaders relied on rainwater catchment systems and solar power; many grew their own food or raised livestock. The simplicity of this lifestyle allowed individuals to reconnect with nature and find solace in the vast desert.

While Jackrabbit Homesteads have passed, their legacy lives on. Many homesteads have been abandoned or repurposed today as reminders of a bygone era. Some have even been transformed into art installations or preserved as historical landmarks. The National Park Service has recognized the cultural significance of Jackrabbit Homesteads and is working to preserve and document these unique structures.

For those intrigued by the allure of Jackrabbit Homesteads, there are opportunities to explore and experience these historic sites. For instance, Joshua Tree National Park in California is home to several preserved homesteads that offer a glimpse into the past. Visitors can wander through these time capsules, imagining the lives of the individuals who once called these cabins home.

Jackrabbit Homesteads are a testament to the human spirit of resilience and the desire for independence. Scattered across the desert landscape, these modest dwellings tell a story of determination and self-sufficiency. While the era of homesteading may have faded, the legacy of Jackrabbit Homesteads continues to captivate and inspire those who appreciate the allure of a simpler way of life.

(c) Walter Feller

Controlling Local History: The Practice of Marginalization and Banning People

Introduction:

Local history shapes community identity and collective memory. It preserves the stories, events, and heritage that shape the present. However, in some cases, the practice of controlling local history and banning people from it has raised concerns. This blog post explores the implications of such practices and their potential consequences for communities.

1. The Power Dynamics of Controlling Local History:

Controlling local history involves the selective interpretation and presentation of historical narratives, often influenced by those in power. Controlling the narrative can emphasize certain perspectives or events while suppressing others, resulting in a skewed understanding of the past. This power dynamic can lead to the exclusion and erasure of marginalized voices and communities.

2. Banning People from Local History:

Banning individuals from participating in local history recording, sharing, or access restricts collective memory and perpetuates exclusion. This exclusion can occur for a variety of reasons, such as political dissent, social status, or cultural differences. However, by denying individuals the right to contribute to, learn from, and engage with local history, a community risks losing valuable insights and perspectives.

3. Implications for Communities:

When individuals are banned from local history, the community as a whole suffers. The diversity of experiences and perspectives is diminished, resulting in a narrow understanding of the past. This can lead to a distorted sense of identity and an inability to learn from past mistakes or appreciate the contributions of all community members. Furthermore, the practice of banning people from local history can perpetuate social divisions and hinder unity and cohesion.

4. Promoting Inclusive Local History:

To ensure a more inclusive and accurate representation of local history, it is crucial to adopt practices that encourage participation from all members of the community. This can be achieved through initiatives such as oral history projects, community-led documentation, and the establishment of inclusive historical archives. Communities can create a more comprehensive and nuanced understanding of their shared past by actively involving diverse voices.

5. The Importance of Dialogue and Understanding:

Rather than banning individuals from local history, fostering open dialogue and understanding can lead to a more inclusive and comprehensive narrative. Communities can work toward reconciliation and healing by creating spaces for conversations, sharing different perspectives, and acknowledging history’s complexities. This approach allows for a more accurate reflection of the past, embracing diversity and promoting a sense of belonging for all community members.

Conclusion:

Controlling local history and banning people from it has far-reaching consequences for communities. It perpetuates power imbalances, excludes marginalized voices, and limits collective memory. Instead of resorting to such practices. Communities should strive for inclusivity, open dialogue, and the active participation of all individuals in shaping and preserving local history. Doing so can create a more accurate, diverse, and enriching understanding of the past, ensuring a more inclusive and united future.

Walter Feller – 8/2023

The Waning Character of the Victor Valley: A Reflection on Change

Introduction:

The Victor Valley, once known for its vibrant character and idyllic charm, has witnessed a gradual decline in its unique essence over the years. Let us examine the factors contributing to the waning character of the Victor Valley and reflect upon the changes that have shaped its present state.

The Historical Significance:

The Victor Valley has a rich history, deeply rooted in the California Gold Rush and the railroad system development. These historical events played a pivotal role in shaping the valley’s character, attracting settlers, prospectors, and entrepreneurs seeking opportunities. The region blossomed with small communities, bustling industries, and a strong sense of community.

Urbanization and Economic Shifts:

Over time, the Victor Valley has undergone significant urbanization and economic shifts, which have profoundly impacted its character. With the expansion of cities and towns, vast open spaces have been replaced by commercial developments and residential neighborhoods. This rapid growth has led to a loss of natural beauty and a decline in historical landmark preservation.

Furthermore, economic changes have influenced the character of the Victor Valley. The decline of traditional industries, such as agriculture and mining, has resulted in a shift towards a service-based economy. While this has brought economic stability and employment opportunities, it has also contributed to a loss of the valley’s unique identity as small businesses struggle to compete with larger corporate chains.

Cultural Shifts and Loss of Community Spirit:

Another significant factor contributing to the waning character of the Victor Valley is the cultural shifts experienced by its residents. As the valley has become more diverse, the sense of community and shared values that once defined its character has diminished. People are now more connected virtually than physically, and the traditional community spirit has given way to individualism and isolation.

The Impact of Modernization:

The advent of modern technology and social media has further eroded the character of the Victor Valley. The constant connectivity and virtual interactions have replaced face-to-face communication, making it harder for residents to connect and engage with each other. The valley’s unique charm, once fostered by personal connections and local events, now struggles to compete with the allure of the digital age.

Preserving the Victor Valley’s Character:

Despite Victor Valley’s challenges, there is hope for preserving its character. Community-driven initiatives, historical preservation efforts, and a renewed focus on local businesses can help restore the valley’s identity. By embracing sustainable development practices and promoting cultural events celebrating the valley’s heritage, residents and local authorities can work together to attempt to revive the character that once defined the Victor Valley.

Conclusion:

The waning character of Victor Valley reminds us of the ever-changing nature of our society. The forces of urbanization, economic shifts, cultural changes, and technological advancements have left an indelible mark on the valley’s identity.

Digital Desert: An Oasis of Limitless Creativity

Introduction:

In the vast realm of digital art, few artists can claim to have revolutionized the medium quite like Walter Feller’s. With his groundbreaking project, aptly named the “Digital Desert,” Feller has created a virtual oasis of creativity that pushes the boundaries of what is possible in the digital world. In this post, we will explore the captivating world of Walter Feller’s Digital Desert and delve into the mesmerizing beauty that lies within.

Unveiling the Digital Desert:

The Digital Desert is not just a collection of digital vintage/historical and contemporary works but an immersive experience that transports viewers into a realm where contemporary reality and history blend seamlessly. Feller has meticulously crafted a vast landscape within the digital realm, using his exceptional technical skills and boundless artistic vision. The result is a breathtaking desert expanse teeming with dunes, majestic rock formations, and an ever-changing sky that displays nature’s nuances.

Exploring the Creative Oasis:

Within the Digital Desert, Feller’s creativity knows no bounds. It is a space where traditional artistic techniques merge with innovative digital tools. Each artwork within the Digital Desert is an awe-inspiring masterpiece, meticulously crafted with attention to detail and an unwavering dedication to perfection. From hyper-realistic landscapes, Feller’s artistry encompasses a vast array of styles and themes, leaving viewers captivated and inspired.

The Role of Technology:

Feller’s Digital Desert would not be possible without the technological advancements that have paved the way for digital art to flourish. Through his mastery of digital tools, Feller has harnessed the power of software and hardware to create art that pushes the boundaries of imagination in creating a historical model. The Digital Desert serves as a testament to the limitless possibilities that technology offers to historians and artists, allowing them to bring their visions to life in once unimaginable ways.

Impact and Influence:

Walter Feller’s Digital Desert has garnered widespread acclaim and has left an indelible mark on the digital art community. His work has inspired countless artists to explore digital art possibilities and opened up new avenues for creative expression. Feller’s unique ability to seamlessly blend traditional artistry with cutting-edge technology has set a new standard in digital art, making him a true pioneer.

Conclusion:

Walter Feller’s Digital Desert is a testament to the power of human creativity and the boundless possibilities within the digital realm. Through his awe-inspiring artworks, Walter Feller has created a virtual oasis that captivates viewers and pushes the boundaries of what is possible in digital art. The Digital Desert is a testament to Feller’s unparalleled talent, technical skill, and unwavering dedication to his craft. As we venture further into the digital age, the legacy of Walter Feller and his Digital Desert will undoubtedly continue to inspire and shape the future of art and internet development.

Battle at Chimney Rock

History of San Bernardino and Riverside counties
Brown, John & Boyd, James – 1922

 Typical of the troubles of the times is the following article from a local newspaper of February 1867: “For several years past, our citizens have been greatly annoyed by roving bands of Indians who come into the valley and steal all the horses and cattle they find unguarded. Nor do they hesitate to attack stockmen and travelers if an opportunity offers. Already Messrs. Parish, Bemus and Whiteside, and a dozen others have fallen victim to their bloodthirstiness within the past four years. Growing bolder by impunity, on the 29th of January, they attacked the sawmill of Mr. James upon the mountain, a few miles east of this place, having previously robbed the house of Mr. Cain, carrying off five horses and burned down the house. The party at the mill, consisting of Messrs. Armstrong, Richardson, Cain, and Talmadge, sallied out to meet them. A brisk fight followed when the party, finding that most of the Indians had guns and fearful of being overpowered, retreated to the mill. The next morning the party, having been reinforced, went out and was attacked again, the fight lasting for more than an hour. Two of the white men were wounded, two Indians were killed, and three wounded. A party was made up to pursue these Indians, and after following them, found the Indians encamped in the desert at Rabbit Springs. The company made an attack, the men having to climb up the steep mountains and over the rocks on all fours, and the skirmishing lasted until dark. The skirmishing lasted for two days longer when the whites were compelled to withdraw because supplies were exhausted. Four Indians were killed and two of the white party wounded.” The Mojave region came under the protection of Camp Cady, which was established as a regular military post in 1868 on the road between Wilmington and Northern Arizona territory, and about 100 troops under Colonel Ayers remained here until about 1870.

Tonopah, Nevada

Tonopah was one of Southern Nevada’s most prosperous mining communities, drawing hundreds of prospectors from its founding in 1900.  Silver was first discovered on May 19, 1900, by prospector Jim Butler who was traveling through the area.  On an overnight stop, Butler discovered silver outcroppings near Tonopah Springs.  When Butler’s friend Tasker Oddie  (later Nevada Senator and Governor) had Butler’s sample assayed, it was found to be worth $50-$600 per ton.  That August, Butler and his wife staked eight claims in Tonopah.  Mrs. Butler christened the first three claims Desert Queen, Burro, and Mizpah.  The Mizpah became Tonopah’s largest producer over the next forty years.  Later that year, Butler leased his claims for one year, collecting 25% of the royalties from the gold and silver ore that was mined. 

In 1901 several companies opened, including the West End Consolidated Mining Company and the Tonopah Extension Mining Company.  In January, the mining camp had a population of 40, including three women.  By springtime, the population rose to 250, and Tonopah’s first stage, the Concord, arrived from Sodaville.  In May 1901, Tonopah’s first post office and the largest building in the city, The Mizpah Bar & Grill, opened.   That summer, Tonopah’s population reached 650.  W.W. Booth advertised the district through his newspaper, the Tonopah Bonanza.  As word spread, more prospectors entered the area, and three large mining corporations were formed in early 1902: The Tonopah Belmont Mining Company, the Montana Tonopah Mining Company, and the Tonopah Mining Company. 

The camp was still relatively primitive in 1902.  Prices, crude sanitary conditions, and Tonopah’s isolation made it difficult to obtain supplies. This changed in early 1903 when construction began on a 60-mile-long narrow gauge railroad connecting Tonopah with the Carson and Colorado Branches of the Southern Pacific Railroad at the Sodaville Junction. 

By the end of 1903, Tonopah’s population surged to 3,000.  With several profitable silver and gold strikes, production boomed, and mining stocks listed on the San Francisco stock exchange since April soared.  A building boom followed the mining boom. There were thirty-two saloons, six faro games, two dancehalls, two weekly newspapers, several mercantile stores, and two churches built before 1904.  On July 25, 1904, the town celebrated the completion of the narrow gauge railroad with speeches, sporting events, horse races down Main Street, and several dances. 

The population continued to grow as transportation to the district became easier, and by May 1905, the Nye County seat was moved from Belmont to Tonopah, the post office changed its name to Tonopah, and construction began on a new $55,000 Nye County courthouse.  On July 7, 1905, Tonopah’s first city government was incorporated.  In the fall, the two railroads in Tonopah merged into the Tonopah and Goldfield Railroad Company, its track gauge standardized and extended to Goldfield. 

Tonopah survived the financial panic of 1907.  The city had five banks, modern hotels, cafes, an opera house, a school, electric and water companies, numerous gambling halls, and several four to five-story buildings downtown.  In 1908 and 1909, Tonopah was devastated by a series of fires.  In May 1908, a fire destroyed an entire block of the commercial district.  A year later, the roundhouse and the machine shops at the Tonopah and Goldfield Railroad burned to the ground.  The infamous Belmont fire occurred on February 23, 1911, when the 1,200-foot mine shaft of the Belmont Mine caught fire.  Seventeen men perished from the toxic fumes of the blaze. 

Mining activity expanded in 1912 when the Belmont mine and mill began operating in July.  The daily wage for a machine operator averaged $4.50-$5.50 per shift. The following year was Tonopah’s most profitable: Annual production in gold, silver, copper, and lead was valued at $10 million.  Several mills were constructed to process 1,830 tons of ore daily, including the Tonopah Belmont Development Company’s massive 500-ton mill on the east side of Mount Oddie. 

Tonopah reached its peak production between 1910 and 1914.  Between the end of  World War I and the Great Depression, four companies remained active: the Tonopah Mining Company, Tonopah Belmont, Tonopah Extension, and West End Consolidated Mines.  In 1921, four of the twenty-five principal silver mines in the nation were still in Tonopah, and Tonopah was the nation’s second-largest producer of gold. But on October 31, 1939, a fire destroyed the Belmont Mine, and another fire in 1942 closed the Tonopah Extension Mill.  World War II brought an Army Air Force Base to the area, but it was shut down upon the close of the war.  When the Tonopah and Goldfield Railroad ceased operations in 1947, Tonopah’s remaining mines closed, and the population dwindled. 

The total production of Tonopah’s mines over its forty years of production is estimated at over $150 million, and during that time, Tonopah produced many millionaires and statesmen, including Tasker Oddie, Jim Butler, Frank Golden, Zeb Kendall, and Key Pittman.  In the words of Nevada historian Stanley Paher, “Virginia City had put Nevada on the map; Tonopah kept it there.”

Tonopah, Nevada

https://special.library.unlv.edu/boomtown/counties/nye.php#tonopah