Opulence In A Mining Town

By Suzanne Norquist

Visit any historic Colorado mining town, and you will find an opera house (or at least hear about one that used to exist). But this icon of culture doesn’t fit the image of the male-dominated, rough and tumble, saloon-filled cluster of ramshackle dwellings . . . Which is exactly why prominent members of the community built opera houses. As a town grew, men brought their families.


Dance halls and saloons provided theatrical entertainment. Unacceptable entertainment for upstanding citizens. But an opera house oozed sophistication. No matter that few of the productions were actually operas. These venues boasted Shakespeare, musicals, vaudeville, burlesque shows, and, sometimes, opera. They served as a multipurpose facility.


Touring companies traveled from town to town on circuits mostly connected by railroads, although a theatrical group could come across the mountains by stage. A letter found in the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, describes one actress’s journey from Denver. Her stagecoach tipped over six times.


The Silver Circuit started in Denver and traveled to Salt Lake City or San Francisco with stops at the major mountain town opera houses along the way. They would perform in Denver for a week and then spend a night in each town.

The Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, was arguably the most opulent structure in the area. It was built in 1879 in a town that housed four banks, five churches, about twenty hotels, and eighty-two saloons.


The three-story structure seated over eight-hundred people. It boasted gas lights, and the modern folding seats featured gilt cast iron with red velvet upholstery. There was room for a fifteen-piece orchestra in front of the stage. A third-floor catwalk connected it to the Clarendon Hotel.


The dressing rooms were the most elaborate in the west, including a private room for the leading lady and one for the leading man. The opera house owned seven sets of scenery instead of the usual four.

Although the venue attracted famous performers, including a cast from the Metropolitan Opera in New York City and possibly Harry Houdini, the town remained a rough-and-tumble place at heart.

Opening night ticket sales were disappointing because a public hanging took place the same night. The opera house couldn’t compete. And one of the businesses on the first floor of the building was a saloon. Patrons could get a drink there between acts.



The miners loved Irish poet Oscar Wilde, not because of his lecture on aesthetic theory (a branch of philosophy dealing with beauty), but because he could hold his liquor.


Opera houses brought culture and civilization to Colorado’s historic mining towns. Most of the remaining ones are in small towns where their space wasn’t needed for redevelopment. The Tabor Opera house in Leadville offers tours as it raises money for much-needed repairs. After a tour, I decided to write my first novella, “A Song for Rose” in the Bouquet of Brides Collection, about a girl who wanted to sing in the opera house.
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Suzanne Norquist is the author of two novellas, “A Song for Rose” in A Bouquet of Brides Collection and “Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection. Everything fascinates her. She has worked as a chemist, professor, financial analyst, and even earned a doctorate in economics. Research feeds her curiosity, and she shares the adventure with her readers. She lives in New Mexico with her mining engineer husband and has two grown children. When not writing, she explores the mountains, hikes, and attends kickboxing class.

She authors a blog entitled, Ponderings of a BBQ Ph.D.

“Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection
Four historical romances celebrating the arts of sewing and quilting.
Mending Sarah’s Heart by Suzanne Norquist
Rockledge, Colorado, 1884

Sarah seeks a quiet life as a seamstress. She doesn’t need anyone, especially her dead husband’s partner. If only the Emporium of Fashion would stop stealing her customers and the local hoodlums would leave her sons alone. When she rejects her husband’s share of the mine, his partner Jack seeks to serve her through other means. But will his efforts only push her further away?

For a Free Preview, click here: http://a.co/1ZtSRkK

Town at the Top of the World

By Suzanne Norquist

Life at the top of the world isn’t easy, but early Colorado miners were a hearty bunch. If a prospector found gold and silver, a settlement soon followed. Such is the case with Animas Forks, which sits deep in the mountains at 11,200 feet (that’s more than two miles) above sea level. Cold temperatures, coupled with a lack of oxygen and moisture discourage life.


On a warm August afternoon, I stood among the ghost town’s preserved buildings and tried to imagine the bustling community. A few buildings remain standing, thanks to the preservation efforts of The San Juan County Historical Society, the Ghost Town Club of Colorado, and Outward Bound. It is the highlight of the Alpine Loop system of Jeep roads.


The “Three Forks of the Animas” was settled in 1873 by prospectors who wintered there. In 1875, the town changed its name to Animas Forks to accommodate the post office. Apparently, the more descriptive name was too long. By then, a wagon road linked Animas Forks to nearby communities. 

In 1876, Animas Forks boasted 30 cabins, a hotel, a saloon, a post office, and a general store. Before nearby Silverton became an incorporated town, Animas Forks was the San Juan County seat, where court cases were heard. One man who didn't like the outcome of his trial promised, "I'll take this to a higher court!" Responded the wry judge, "There is no higher court in Colorado."

The most photographed structure today is a two-story house built by local merchant William Duncan in 1879. Every time I visit, I stand inside and try to imagine living there.


By 1883, 450 summer residents called Animas Forks home. The Animas Forks Pioneer newspaper operated June 1882 through October 1886.


Most people migrated to nearby Silverton for the winter. Although I’ve been to Silverton in the January, and I wouldn’t call it warm. Harsh winters dominated Animas Forks. In 1884, a 23-day blizzard dropped 25 feet of snow. Locals had to dig tunnels to get from building to building.

The history of most mining towns includes a devastating fire because so many buildings are hastily constructed. Animas Forks is no exception. In 1891, a fire that started in the kitchen of the Kalamazoo Hotel destroyed most of the town. And, like most mining towns, they rebuilt, using better materials.


In 1904, the Silverton Northern Railroad came to Animas Forks. By then, locals enjoyed the use of electricity, telephone, and telegraph. The Gold Prince Mill was the first in Colorado to be built of structural steel. It was the largest mill in the state.


Animas Forks’ prosperity depended on the mines. In 1893, it suffered a recession when silver prices dropped. An upsurge in mining brought the town back to life in the early 1900s. But the high-tech Gold Prince Mill only operated for six years. By 1910, most of the mining had stopped in the area. Animas Forks was a ghost town by the 1920s.

Thankfully, some buildings still stand. A visit to the site brings this writer’s imagination to life. But I only visit in the summer, and even then, thunderstorms roll through most afternoons.

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Suzanne Norquist is the author of two novellas, “A Song for Rose” in A Bouquet of Brides Collection and “Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection. Everything fascinates her. She has worked as a chemist, professor, financial analyst, and even earned a doctorate in economics. Research feeds her curiosity, and she shares the adventure with her readers. She lives in New Mexico with her mining engineer husband and has two grown children. When not writing, she explores the mountains, hikes, and attends kickboxing class.

She authors a blog entitled, Ponderings of a BBQ Ph.D.

“Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection

Four historical romances celebrating the arts of sewing and quilting.

Mending Sarah’s Heart by Suzanne Norquist

Rockledge, Colorado, 1884

Sarah seeks a quiet life as a seamstress. She doesn’t need anyone, especially her dead husband’s partner. If only the Emporium of Fashion would stop stealing her customers and the local hoodlums would leave her sons alone. When she rejects her husband’s share of the mine, his partner Jack seeks to serve her through other means. But will his efforts only push her further away?

For a Free Preview, click here: http://a.co/1ZtSRkK

I’ll Just Attach This Flame To My Canvas Hat – Evolution of Mining Hard Hats

By Suzanne Norquist

Imagine working in an underground mine day after day with only a canvas cap to protect your head. The purpose of the cap was to carry a light, not to save your noggin.

On a recent visit to the San Juan County Historical Society Mining Heritage Center, I noticed a display of miner’s caps.

First in line was a felt hat, like those worn at home. A candle could be attached to provide light. When the miner reached his destination, he would stick the candle holder into a crack in the rocks or into a piece of wood.

I can’t even imagine wearing an open flame attached to a cloth (or even leather) hat. A later invention was the teapot lamp. The pot contained fuel, and a wick came through the spout. Those look positively frightening.

Many mines were very wet, with water dripping from the sides and ceiling. In those environments, a worker could treat a canvas cap with a black water repellant compound. Still no protection from the occasional falling rock.

In fact, from 1850 until around 1915, miner’s headgear consisted of cloth or canvas hats with leather brims and lamp brackets.

Why didn’t underground miners think to protect their heads with some kind of helmet? After all, soldiers' helmets have existed for centuries. Look at the knights in their armor . . . or the Roman centurions.

The bulky, uncomfortable helmets designed to protect against swords and arrows never made their way into industrial use. In fact, with the invention of rifles, they fell out of favor in militaries as well. What good were they if they couldn’t stop a bullet?

In World War I, infantry soldiers started wearing protective helmets again. The Brodie helmet could stop flying shrapnel and debris, if not a bullet.

In 1919, the Brodie helmet inspired the Bullard mining supply company to create the Hard Boiled hat out of steamed canvas, glue, a leather brim, and black paint. The name comes from the steaming process. These hats were introduced in mines and navy shipyards.

Around this same time, carbide lamps were invented, eliminating the need for an open flame light source. You can see it in the picture above.

Aluminum became a standard for hard hats around 1938, and fiberglass came into use in the 1940s.

In modern times, hard hats come in a variety of colors, whose meanings are site-specific. When my husband started his mining career in an underground coal mine, he was a “green hat,” meaning he was the new guy.

It’s hard to imagine that up until a century ago, a miner wore a canvas cap with an open flame attached to it. But I suppose kids who didn’t grow up in the 1970s can’t imagine riding bicycles without helmets either.

***

Suzanne Norquist is the author of two novellas, “A Song for Rose” in A Bouquet of Brides Collection and “Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection. Everything fascinates her. She has worked as a chemist, professor, financial analyst, and even earned a doctorate in economics. Research feeds her curiosity, and she shares the adventure with her readers. She lives in New Mexico with her mining engineer husband and has two grown children. When not writing, she explores the mountains, hikes, and attends kickboxing class.

She authors a blog entitled, Ponderings of a BBQ Ph.D.

“Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection

Four historical romances celebrating the arts of sewing and quilting.

Mending Sarah’s Heart by Suzanne Norquist

Rockledge, Colorado, 1884

Sarah seeks a quiet life as a seamstress. She doesn’t need anyone, especially her dead husband’s partner. If only the Emporium of Fashion would stop stealing her customers and the local hoodlums would leave her sons alone. When she rejects her husband’s share of the mine, his partner Jack seeks to serve her through other means. But will his efforts only push her further away?

For a Free Preview, click here: http://a.co/1ZtSRkK

I’d Rather Be A Nipper Than A Flunky (Mining History)

The stereotypical image of historic miners is that of an unskilled laborer with a pick-ax and shovel. Think of the Seven Dwarfs. "We dig, dig, dig, . . ."

In reality, workers performed various jobs, and few of them looked like the dwarfs swinging pick-axes in vast, well-lit caverns.

In order to lengthen the tunnels, rock had to be blasted and removed. The miners would drill long, slender holes in the rock wall and place sticks of dynamite inside. 

Author photo from the Molly Kathleen mine tour in Cripple Creek, Colorado

Before the invention of hydraulic drills, two men would hand-drill. One would hold a drill-steel with a sharp bit on the end while the other hit the steel with a sledgehammer. After each hit, the one holding the steel would rotate it a quarter-turn. Imagine the trust those guys had in each other. I don’t think I would hold my hands in front of someone’s big hammer. But that would be the only way to get a rest from swinging the hammer.

Author photo from the Molly Kathleen mine tour in Cripple Creek, Colorado

After the holes had been drilled, someone placed a stick of dynamite in each one and ran a long fuse. (They look just like the ones in the cartoons.) Often this happened at the end of the shift. Everyone left the mine, and the explosives were detonated.

Author photos from the San Juan County Historical Society museum in Silverton, Colorado 

By the next shift, the air had cleared, and a pile of rubble remained. Workers had to shovel the rock into a car to be removed from the mine. This was called “mucking.”

Author photo from the Molly Kathleen mine tour in Cripple Creek, Colorado

With any luck, the rock that had been blasted out contained some ore (gold, silver, copper, and such) that could be processed and sold.

As difficult as these jobs sounded, they weren’t even the low-level positions. A young man (or boy) who aspired to be a miner started out as a “nipper.” Nippers served as runners for the miners. They fetched tools, like sharpened drill bits from the underground blacksmith shop.

And, yes, blacksmiths worked underground in shops complete with hot fires, giant billows, and anvils that would make a cartoon character proud. They repaired tools and sharpened drill bits. I have to imagine that they knew the nippers by name.

Author photos from the San Juan County Historical Society museum in Silverton, Colorado

Lest you believe that the nippers were the bottom of the ladder, above ground, in the boardinghouse kitchens, there were men with the title of “flunky.” Their job description seemed similar to that of nippers, but they were on the surface where it was safe . . . And boring. Few held that job for long.

Many of these jobs exist today. Miners continue to drill and muck out the rock with the aid of machines. Muscular men (and women) operate the equipment. Blacksmith shops were replaced with machine shops. Google “nipper,” and you’ll find job opportunities. I’m not sure anyone wanted the job title “flunky.” At least nippers enjoyed the exciting work of mining and had upward mobility.

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Suzanne Norquist is the author of two novellas, “A Song for Rose” in A Bouquet of Brides Collection and “Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection. Everything fascinates her. She has worked as a chemist, professor, financial analyst, and even earned a doctorate in economics. Research feeds her curiosity, and she shares the adventure with her readers. She lives in New Mexico with her mining engineer husband and has two grown children. When not writing, she explores the mountains, hikes, and attends kickboxing class.

She authors a blog entitled, Ponderings of a BBQ Ph.D.

“Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection 

Four historical romances celebrating the arts of sewing and quilting.
Mending Sarah’s Heart by Suzanne Norquist
Rockledge, Colorado, 1884

Sarah seeks a quiet life as a seamstress. She doesn’t need anyone, especially her dead husband’s partner. If only the Emporium of Fashion would stop stealing her customers, and the local hoodlums would leave her sons alone. When she rejects her husband’s share of the mine, his partner Jack seeks to serve her through other means. But will his efforts only push her further away?

For a Free Preview, click here: http://a.co/1ZtSRkK

Life On The Side Of A Mountain

In southwest Colorado’s mining districts, remnants of massive boarding houses hug the cliffs of some of the country’s highest mountains. How prospectors decided to look for gold on the rugged peaks boggles the imagination. But they did, and some struck rich veins. Removal of the ore required a sizeable workforce.

Author Photo in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado

Successful mines were big business. They brought in the latest technology and provided well for their employees. A miner who wasn’t happy “tramped” to the next mine where conditions might be better. Remote mining companies created miniature cities in a single building with up to three hundred residents. Some boasted a mercantile, barber, library, and even musical entertainment. Their large dining rooms provided a social center where dances and weddings were held.

Even the hardiest of mountain men avoid winters in the San Juan Mountains, which last for about ten months. But mining companies couldn’t choose a comfortable location where workers could live in town. They had to follow the gold.

Many of the dwellings provided access directly to the mine, allowing workers to avoid the harsh winter weather. Miners would hang their sweaty, damp clothes to dry-out between shifts in a “dry” room near the mine entrance. This kept the dirty mine clothes out of the bedrooms.

Some boarding houses sat on flat spots near the mine where roads could bring people and supplies to the site. Others were built into the side of a hill where the most direct access was on a tram which ran on cables hundreds of feet above the ground. Even ladies who visited for dances rode the trams in their finery.

Author Photos at the Mayflower Mill near Silverton, Colorado

The side of the cliff provided a handy waste disposal site. For example, at boarding house for the American-Nettie mine near Ouray, Colorado, the attached outhouse hung over the cliff. No one lingered there for long. The draft in the winter packed the hole with snow. A club sat nearby to clear the opening before sitting down.

Detroit Photographic Co. Colorado. "American-Nettie" mine, Ouray. [Between 1898 and 1905] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/2008678058/>.

Close Up of Building and Outhouse

Cooks emptied slop buckets over the side of the cliff, creating a feeding ground for mountain critters, like pikas and marmots. According to first-hand accounts, the stampede to supper at the dining hall’s long tables was no myth. Miners ate vast quantities of food, which had to be brought up by mule train or on trams. Poor quality food could create an uprising.

A cadre of cooks prepared meals—head cooks, second cooks, bakers, dishwashers, pan washers, and flunkies. Yes. Flunky was an official job title for someone who did the odd jobs no one else wanted to do. He earned as much as a miner. Head cooks made more.

One thing the boarding houses did not have was a bar. It is thought that company policy limited alcohol consumption at most sites. This rule would have toned down the rowdiness, and kept men ready for work.

As the mines were depleted and transportation into the mountains improved, boarding houses became a relic of a bygone era. The perfect thing to feed the imagination of an author.

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Suzanne Norquist is the author of two novellas, “A Song for Rose” in A Bouquet of Brides Collection and “Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection. Everything fascinates her. She has worked as a chemist, professor, financial analyst, and even earned a doctorate in economics. Research feeds her curiosity and she shares the adventure with her readers. She lives in New Mexico with her mining engineer husband and has two grown children. When not writing, she explores the mountains, hikes, and attends kickboxing class.

She authors a blog entitled, Ponderings of a BBQ Ph.D.

“Mending Sarah’s Heart” in the Thimbles and Threads Collection

Four historical romances celebrating the arts of sewing and quilting.

Mending Sarah’s Heart by Suzanne Norquist

Rockledge, Colorado, 1884

Sarah seeks a quiet life as a seamstress. She doesn’t need anyone, especially her dead husband’s partner. If only the Emporium of Fashion would stop stealing her customers and the local hoodlums would leave her sons alone. When she rejects her husband’s share of the mine, his partner Jack seeks to serve her through other means. But will his efforts only push her further away?

For a Free Preview, click here: http://a.co/1ZtSRkK

Ghost Towns of Colorado

By Tiffany Amber Stockton

Last month, I began a short series on ghost towns, and began in the central state of Kansas. If you missed that post, you can read it here: https://www.hhhistory.com/2019/05/ghost-towns-of-kansas.html.

Since summer break has just begun, I'm going to stick close to home for this month's post. I've spent a bit of time the past 12 years exploring several areas of Colorado and have become increasingly fascinated with its culture, history, and people who made this state what it is today. Let's take a little jaunt into the history of some well-known towns in the Centennial State.

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Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

Year round you can explore some of the best abandoned, old ghost towns throughout the state of Colorado. They are full of history and among the best-preserved in this region. Some high elevation former mining camps are only accessible in the summer. Two-wheel-drive cars will be fine for most, though, some require a high-clearance 4×4 or a hike to access them. These towns were abandoned for different reasons, some due to mining or economic struggles, others due to natural forces like cold winters.

Wouldn't you love to have seen some of these towns in their heyday?

I have several files with research on these, and at some point in the near future, I'll be using these towns as settings for some of my novels highlighting the stories shaping the history of Colorado. So, stay tuned!

ASHCROFT

Ashcroft is a short 10 miles from Colorado’s skiing mecca Aspen and is one of the state’s most well-intact ghost towns. Simply drive down the paved road known as Castle Creek to view Ashcroft. In the late 1800s, Ashcroft was a booming mining town and home to nearly 20 saloons, 2 newspapers, and over 2,500 residents. However, it didn't take long for that boom to diminish. As the 19th century came to an end, mine closures in Aspen led to a fast decline, and only two residents still lived in the town by 1900. The Aspen Historical Society guides a tour through the town’s jail, hotel, saloons and stable.

ST. ELMO

No, there is no connection to the St. Elmo's Fire movie from 1985 movie or the lightning phenomenon. (grins) An amazing fact about St. Elmo is forty antique buildings still remain in this ghost town. St. Elmo, located west of Buena Vista, sits at 10,000 feet in the Collegiate Peaks. This town was a former gold mining town but it now lives as one of the most well-preserved ghost towns in the Centennial State. The town was founded in 1880 and saw a 3-year boom due to the nearby railroad. However once mine production ceased and the tunnel closed, many residents deserted St. Elmo, and it was all but abandoned by 1922.

INDEPENDENCE

This small town is located high in the mountains near Independence Pass. Gold miners were drawn to Independence in the late 1800s because of its location and the rich veins that were found in nearby areas. In its heyday, more than 1,500 residents lived in Independence. Due to harsh winters, a rough route for stagecoach riders, and the proximity to the commercial hub of Aspen, Independence saw a huge decline. Only one resident was found still living in Independence in 1899. Now, the Aspen Historical Society gives tours of this ghost town where several log cabins are still found in the area.

TINCUP

Tincup, near Gunnison, is proof that the Wild West existed. Founded in 1879 with the name Virginia City, Tincup grew among rowdy cowboys and gold miners. Since there were towns in both Nevada and Montana with the same name, Tincup was chosen as the new name because the first person to find gold there panned it out of Willow Creek and carried it in a tin cup. Tincup was a wild city full of gunfights and bar feuds. Still today, a few people actually reside in Tincup. Old buildings have been preserved, and there are even vacation homes for travelers.

ALTA

Located 10 miles from the town of Telluride, Alta was once a booming mining town from 1877 to 1940. Alta is another Colorado ghost town that is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Visitors to this ghost town can see many of the original buildings, which look spectacular against the town’s mountain scenery. Alta’s demise was caused by a slowing mining industry, a fire that destroyed Alta’s main mill and vandalism during the 20th century.

DEARFIELD

Approximately 700 African Americans settled in Dearfield in the early 1900s. This ghost town is known as Colorado’s only all-black settlement. The Great Depression and the Dust Bowl caused residents to vacate this eastern Colorado town, which is located 25 miles east of Greeley. However, three structures still stand in Dearfield, a gas station, diner and a home. Efforts are now being undertaken to preserve this unique Colorado ghost town.

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NOW IT'S YOUR TURN:

* Have you read any books with a former real-life setting that is now a ghost town?

* Which of the towns featured in today's post would you put on your "must-see" if you were traveling through Colorado?

* What was your favorite part about today's post?

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BIO

Tiffany Amber Stockton has been crafting and embellishing stories since childhood, when she was accused of having a very active imagination and cited with talking entirely too much. Today, she has honed those childhood skills to become an award-winning and best-selling author and speaker who is also an advocate for literacy as an educational consultant with Usborne Books. On the side, she dabbles in the health & wellness and personal development industries, helping others become their best from the inside out.

She lives with her husband and fellow author, Stuart Vaughn Stockton, along with their two children and two dogs in Colorado. She has sold twenty (21) books so far and is represented by Tamela Hancock Murray of the Steve Laube Agency. You can find her on Facebook, Twitter, GoodReads, and LinkedIn