Ghosts with Grit in the Wild West

Grim Mourning and welcome to The Grim. I'm your host, Kristin. On today's episode will be opening the gate and entering old Tonopah cemetery located in Tonopah, Nevada. So grab your favorite mug, cozy up, and let's take a dig in the history. Looking to cozy up this week, we're opening the gate into a warmer location than the Graham's home town in Nevada. And going into the past, into the Wild West. It's easy to understand why those searching for holiday graveyards or historical burial grounds often overlook the Wild West. Yet America's frontier is arguably just as rich in history, hauntings and lore as any other part of the country. The famous phrase Go West young man, popularized by the New York Tribune in the late 1800s, encouraged countless of Americans to venture into the untamed Western frontier. Many heeded the call seeking fortune in the booming mining towns, the promised wealth and vast land. However, for those who survived the arduous journey, life in the Wild West was anything but easy. A relentless struggle filled with more ways to die than to thrive. The Wild West became a place of dreams and opportunism, where hopes and heartbreak worked hand in hand. Boomtowns rose quickly, drawing waves of fortune seekers, but just as swiftly, many fell into obscurity, leaving behind eerie echoes of their former glory. For some, these towns were temporary stops. For others they became internal resting places. Take Tonopah, Nevada, for example. At first glance, it's a modest, windswept town, a shadow of its booming past. For most people, they pass through without even realizing what they're missing. But just beyond the infamous Oaklawn Motel lies the cemetery, both haunting and fascinating. The site, which feels like stepping onto the set of a Rob Zombie horror film with the atmosphere, practically begs for ghostly encounters or a grisly tale. The cemetery itself, though, is striking in its own way, with weathered body crosses and rustic metal markers standing in place of traditional headstones. Each grave tells a unique story, reflecting the diverse lives of those who sought their fortune in the West. What's captivating about these old cemeteries is their stark reminder or morality in places like Torn Up by the Graves can hold a cancan dancer alongside a former mayor showing how death indiscriminate Lee claims all these burial grounds are poignant snapshots of time when a promise of a better life brought together all people from all different walks of life. Established in 1901, the Tonopah cemetery quickly became a resting place for the town's many residents during the height of the silver boom. But by 1911, it was overcrowded, a testament to rapid rise and equally rapid decline of this once thriving mining town. According to the town's website, this claim, however, of overcrowding, is actually a myth. The real reason for the old cemeteries closure was the repeated damage caused by the tailings from the old Tonopah extension mine, which frequently washed over graves, eroding what used to be the headstones. Additionally, the mine was planning to expand its operations and sought to prevent the cemetery from growing even further onto its property to address the situation. The mine then donated new land for the cemetery, which remains in operation to this day. So overcrowding, in fact, didn't close its gates. When exploring Tampa's history, numerous online sources mentioned a mysterious plague, commonly referred to as the Chernobyl Plague, which allegedly occurred in 1902. This event often associated with those interred in the Old Town Cemetery. However, this is another misunderstanding. The actual event was a severe outbreak of ammonia in 1905, not 1902, which claimed numerous lives. This spike in deaths was likely due to poor sanitation, particularly in areas near the town slaughterhouse. The Secretary of State Board of Health reported to the Governor, John Sparks, of the time that 56 people had sickened at ammonia between January and April in 1905. Earlier accounts, such as one in the San Francisco column newspaper mention of ammonia outbreak in 1901 and 1902 for the small city. Now, here's where it gets interesting. The local newspaper that turned up a daily bonanza fired back to the San Francisco Call report clarifying that the two seven pneumonia related deaths between May of 1901 and January of 1902 weren't out of the ordinary for a population of a town about 1500. What's important to note here is that these outbreaks weren't shrouded in any mystery. They were widely reported in the local newspaper at the time. So while the numbers seemed a tragic, the events were well-documented and not nearly as mysterious as some legends may suggest. When walking among the graves, visitors will also notice the causes of death listed on many of the headstones that were added in the recent decades. Thanks to historical research conducted by Allen Metzger, other Central Nevada Historical Society, the original headstones actually did not include this information. In fact, only about 30% of the headstones in the cemetery are in fact original. Many are reconstructed by the Tonopah Conservation Crew under Michener's guidance, using old materials to preserve the authentic appearance, but was also lost to time, though, was the actual location of the graves in the cemetery. So Metzner also employed dowsing rods, an April technique traditionally used to locate groundwater or underground disturbances to identify unmarked graves. This method proved remarkably accurate when in the late 1970s, a long lost plot map of the cemetery was discovered in an attic confirming the locations of the graves, Metzger had identified. Helping to preserve the cemeteries, history and its residents within its residents. Tales, however, feel more like a Western completely drama suicide, accident or tragedy and love lost. We'll start with Miss Frost's tale in the West. In her scheme for riches being overwrought, story begins in New York City, where she and her friend Isabella Brown operated what they called a love syndicate posing as wealthy widows. The pair seduced affluent men, persuading them to lavish them with expensive gifts and large sums of money. Their scheme unravelled, though, when one man, infatuated with Baena, turned to the local authorities after she spurned his advances and refused to return his gifts. Baena was arrested and it was estimated that the two women had amassed about 

$100,000 in clothing, jewelry and cash, equivalent to roughly $2.5 million today. During her trial, buying up on several diamonds and then vanished, then about a year later, her fugitive life brought her to Tonopah, Nevada. However, the streak of life on the run, coupled with her struggles with alcoholism, finally took its toll. She eventually succumbed to her condition, listed as a heart failure on her death certificate. But her death made headlines around the world. She's going to haunt the Tonopah historic mining parts of Visitor Center. If you look closely at the windows, she appears to be looking out upon the city. Voices and strange sound are also heard within. But with the countless remaining accidents on the ground, it's really hard to know who is haunting this area. No Wild West town is complete without its saloon, which is where George the Devil Davis comes in. Davis was a man of dualities, both admired and feared in the early days of Tonopah as the town's first African-American resident. He was a charismatic joker and prankster who won the affections of the entire community, transcending the racial barriers of his time. Through relentless efforts, George Rose to prominence, becoming a political leader within the African-American community and the proud owner of a saloon. He named the Eureka, a place that buzzed with laughter and life by day but harbored secrets after dark. Yet beneath his charm lead a shadowed side. Rumors about town were whispered of George's temper and his abusive treatment of his wife, Ruth, casting a sinister pall over his public persona. On the night of June 22nd, 1907, that darkness came to a violent end. Ruth entered the Eureka with a revolver in hand. Without a word, she shot George in the back while he was playing pool. As he fell, she fired again and again, each shot echoing through the saloon like a final reckoning. Ruth only served one year for his death. And the town murmured, Justice served or escaped. But no one could agree. Today, George's grave is said to carry an oppressive air. Visitors claim to feel cold, invisible weight, pressing down on them, and some say faint, mocking laughter drifts through the stillness of the cemetery. As for the Devil Davis restless spirit refuses to let go of the world. He once ruled a booming mining town, though, isn't without its accidents. And Tonopah, Nevada, has many. One tragic tale is of the marriage of brothers Frank and George marriage. Having met a tragic fate on June 20th, in 1907, in a devastating accident in the Belmont Mine. That fateful day, George had gone to visit his brother Frank during his shift. As they started talking, Frank noticed something terrifying. A loaded ore card had broken loose and was careening down the hill toward both of them. Without hesitation, Frank leapt onto the cart, desperately grabbing the brake handle to bring it to a stop. But fate had already sealed his doom. The brake had been hastily repaired with an old shovel handle, and it had snapped under this strain. Frank then lost his footing and fell beneath the cart, which crushed him instantly. George horrified, rushed to save his brother, but the runaway cart struck him to mangling his ankles. He was then rushed to the local hospital where doctors amputated both his legs in a desperate attempt to save his life. Despite their efforts, George succumbed to his injuries that very night. Now their story lingers in the whispers of the mind and the stillness of the cemetery. Miners speak of strange creaks and groans, echoing in the abandoned shafts, as if the ghostly wheels of a runaway ore cart are still rolling in the dark. Some say they've seen shadowy figures standing together. Brothers reunited in death were watching over the place where they met their fate. But like we mentioned before, Tonopah was filled with accidental deaths like any other mining town in the west. The next, however, was even more tragic at some question how accidental the impulses behind human actions and the unpredictable nature of the human mind can often be so baffling that we're left questioning whether there is any logic behind them, or if they are merely the result of a blind, uncontrollable urge that the individual cannot resist. Thus began that sensational news article recounting the desperate and tragic final moments of Peter Copeland, whose life ended in one of the most shocking ways imaginable in Tonopah early days. Born in Zanesville, Ohio, in 1872, not much is known about Pete's early years, but by the 1900 U.S. Census, he had moved to Custer, Idaho. We had worked as a laborer in a quartz mine single and searching for opportunity. Pete later found his way to Nevada. Initially working in the mine near lugging. But by the summer of 1901, he had arrived in Tonopah, eager to join the early mining boom. He was known for his heavy drinking, which often led to unpredictable behavior. Sometimes quarrelsome, other times tearful. On the evening of August 18th, 1901, he was caught in one of his notorious crying jags, moving from one saloon to the next, asking for a loan for just a dollar so he could buy another drink. His requests were routinely turned down, but he persisted, desperately seeking someone to listen. Around 9:30 p.m., Pete entered the Miss Pistol noon, his face marked by a look of hopelessness. As he passed through the back door, he remarked to someone nearby that he would soon be off the map. This dark comment, like others he had made that evening, was brushed aside as drunken rambling. Shortly after Pete disappeared into the night, a massive explosion shattered the stillness of Tonopah. Citizens rushed to the scene and a horrific discovery was made. My God. Look here, boys, someone said, pointing to a piece of dismembered flesh. Someone's been blown to pieces. That someone was Pete Copeland. In a final act of despair, he had detonated a £25 box of giant dynamite at his mining claim. The blast scatter Pete's remains across the vast area and the grim task of recovery began. The Tonopah miner Union, which Pete was a member of paid tribute to him, draping their charter in mourning for three days to honor his memory. Fires were also common in the Wild West with deadly outcomes and heroes. Big Bill as celebrated, as torn up as local hero for his brave actions during the Belmont Mine Fire on February 23rd, 1911. A fire broke out at the 1100 level of the Belmont Mine, claiming the lives of 17 miners, including Bill. Despite their danger, Bill made several trips down to the mines depths to rescue his fellow miners on his final descent. Knowing the peril he faced, Bill said, Well, boys, I've made two trips and I'm nearly all in, but I will try again. He never returned from that trip. Today, a statue honoring Big Bill stands in front of the post office on Main Street, and a mural commemorates his funeral procession, which fittingly occurred during a fierce blizzard. Despite its accidents, deaths and harsh living conditions, Tonopah wasn't actually a la this place. Sheriff Tom Logan, who is serving his third term, was tragically shot and killed by an unruly gambler in the Manhattan Red Light District on April 7th in 1906, according to his great granddaughter, author Jackie Baugh. Logan was unarmed and wearing only his night shirt at the time. In his final act, he had stopped a piano player from shooting the assailant, who was later acquitted of murder. Logan was widely respected for making early tone up one of the most peaceful mining camps in the world. His death had a profound effect on the community, which mourned the loss of their dedicated sheriff. Doesn't. The city weren't always due to accidents, violence or poor living conditions. Many were the result of self-inflicted harm. Long hours spent in a local saloon and other stemmed from the fatal consequences of medical malpractice. Miss Kate Miller's death on April 17th in 1908 was attributed to natural causes super induced by an overdose of morphine. On the night of her death that Kate was in the company of Kitty Wells, a performer of the Nevada theater where she became unsteady and collapsed upon returning to her home behind the Presbyterian Church. Wells, who claimed to have not known K before in the evening, helped her back to her house and called Dr. E K Smith. Upon examining Kate, the doctor determined she had overdosed on morphine. During one of the brief moments she regained consciousness, K told the doctor that a local dentist had administered the drug while attending to her at their inquest. Dr. Smith revealed that Kate had a weak heart and was prone to heart issues. He stated If she had been a normal, healthy woman, she would not have died from the amount of drugs she had taken. Kitty Wells, who was with Kate at the time of her death, testified that she, Kate and Blanche Reeves, had been drinking together the night before Kate's death. Kate had invited herself to stay with Wells and Reeves and said her husband had gone to Miller's and she was lonely. The drinking continued into the next evening, and later that night, Wells added, accompanied Kate back to her home. However, Kate had collapsed several times along the way. Despite Dr. Smith's Beth's efforts to save her. Kate passed away during the inquest. Kate's husband acknowledged that his wife had a history of occasional drunkenness. These types of deaths were common in the Wild West in sadly routine, but showed how even something as small as malpractice could tempt fate in any way. In these booming mining towns, each had their colorful characters that became beloved in the Wild West, like James Moran, James W Brandy Moore, and a beloved resident of Tonopah in Nevada, was best known for his a larger than life persona and a deep connection to the rugged desert town. Born in the early 20th century, Brady earned his nickname from his early years working as a fisherman before settling in Nevada. He had moved to turn up in search of new opportunities during the tail end of the town's mining boom and quickly became a well-known figure in the community. His background as a fisherman gave him a unique perspective in the Nevada landscape, and he often entertained locals with stories of his seafaring days becoming part of the local mining industry. He worked in various capacities from equipment maintenance to management, earning the respect of miners for his hard work and easygoing nature, his knack for problem solving and willingness to lend a hand. Become a trusted figure in the mining community. Despite the eventual decline of mining in Tonopah, Briny remained dedicated to the town where he became involved in local social clubs and volunteering efforts. Always ready to share a story or help a neighbor in need. Later in life, Renner became an informal historian, documenting the lives and experiences of the people of Tonopah. He was best known for his colorful storytelling, capturing the spirit of the mining town's past and his resilience. Resilience is a powerful starting point for our next tragic tale from the West. Many individuals journeyed in search of better lives, often bringing their families along. Yet whether traveling alone or together, they could be unforgiving. Such was the case for the Merton family. The three Merton brothers, Charlie, Bill and Eddie were a well-known and respected trio in town up in Nevada whose lives were closely tied to the town's vibrant mining history. Born and raised in Toronto, but during the peak of the silver boom in the early 20th century, the brothers were introduced to mining at a young age. Following in the footsteps of their father, a seasoned miner, their strong work ethic and close knit bond made them a formidable team in the mines, earning them respect throughout the town as they matured. Each brother carved out his own role within the mining industry. Charlie, the eldest, was known for his leadership and technical skills, often overseeing operations and ensuring safety measures were followed. Bill The middle brother had a knack for machinery and played a key role in modernizing the town's mining equipment. Eddie, the youngest, was the outgoing, charismatic member of the family. Beloved by the community for his humor and positive attitude. Together, the brothers were admired for their ability to work as a team and tackle many of the challenges of the mining life. Beyond their contribution to the mining industry, the brothers were also active and generous members of the tone of the community. They frequently helped struggling families and volunteered at town events, even as the mining industry began to decline. The brothers remained in town but deeply connected to their hometown and its heritage. Tragically, all three Martin brothers passed away within the span of less than two years between September 1908 and July of 1910. The oldest succumbed to typhoid fever. The middle brother was fatally injured in an accident at the Montana Tonopah mine. And in a bitter twist of fate, the youngest died of heart failure at just 17. In true tone up his spirit, the community rallied to support the grieving family, organizing benefits to raise funds for their mother and the eldest widow, offering solace amid their profound loss. The Merton's tale is an example of how cruel fate could be to families in the Wild West. I knew when doing these episodes I have a lot of questions of how did you know all of these details or bits of history, which is a lot of research, but also things to men and women like Alan Metzger, president of the Central Nevada Historical Society, who I've mentioned before in this episode. Alan has dedicated 38 years to working in the old Tonopah cemetery where he's replaced wooden grave markers, research death certificates, examined all newspapers, updated dates and causes of death, and ensured the cemetery remains well-maintained. Recently, with the help of Dr. Whelan's, Tonopah High School leadership class alongside Sherry Bombard, the town of Tonopah as tourism events coordinator, they teamed up to enhance the cemetery's offerings. They created a walking tour video of the old Tonopah Cemetery, accompanied by a brochure drawing on Sherri's prior research from her work on Tonopah. Ghost Walks. Dr. Whalen's Videography Skills and Resources from the Library of Congress chronicling America website. The group spent the full semester researching Graves, writing a grant proposal to Nevada, travel for funding to print the brochure and producing and narrating the video that can be found on YouTube today, making it possible to know Tonopah Cemetery's past lives, making them never forgotten. With a huge thank you from history buffs like myself who appreciate the research and efforts, Tonopah today is a small town in Nevada, but it still has one claim to fame. And we need to cover the clown motel. The Clown Motel has become a true Tonopah landmark, earning the title of America's Scariest Motel due to its eerie clown theme and its location near the old Tonopah Cemetery. Many visitors find the motel terrifying with some of the murals in the rooms at sure to give guests nightmares. However, there's also plenty of happy clowns, especially in the lobby, to balance out the spooky atmosphere. People from all over the world send clowns to the motel, and the collection has grown to over 5000 recently. The motel also gained fame through his appearance on Ghost Adventures. Guests at the motel have reported unsettling encounters not just with clowns, but perhaps with spirits from the cemetery next door. Some believe the hauntings spill over into the motel at night, blurring the line between the eerie and the unexplained. In the haunting shadows of the Wild West, where tragedy, hope and heartbreak intertwine. Tonopah stands as a chilling testament to both human ambition and morality. Beneath the windswept dust of this once booming silver town, the old Tonopah Cemetery holds the souls of those who've lived and died by the boom and bust of the mines. The graves tell stories of love lost lives cut short by accidents and the lingering spirits of the past. Among these restless souls, the Eerie Clown motel, with its disturbing clown themed decor and mysterious history, draws visitors into its unsettling embrace. Whether it's the tormented spirits of miners, tragic suicides, or forgotten outlaws, they are in Tonopah, feels thick with the echoes of the past at times. Here, history lingers in every corner, Shadow whispered a tale, ensuring that the restless souls of the old frontier truly never leave or are forgotten. The grave ground for Tonopah Cemetery was a Carmel Celio from Beans and Brews. For more honorary grinds in the area, please visit the dash grammy.com. For now, we're closing the gate on town. A pandemic free. We hope you enjoyed our dig into history. If you did subscribe the day to join us next time when we open the gate on the grim.