Ghosts of Silver City

Like father, like daughter. 

My second-youngest child spends a lot of her time as I do—on Google Maps. For the last couple years she's been eying a location 173 miles from our home. She couldn't tell what it was exactly, but a spattering of rectangular foundations and solitary walls suggested a place that now sat in ruins. “Dad,” she asked, “some day can we go to Silver City?” 

I knew exactly where it was and had wanted to go there myself. I wanted to go for the historical aspect. Silver City was part of the Tintic Mining District and a satellite town of Eureka. Like so many mining towns in Utah, it was given birth, but eventually passed away, giving up the ghost.

We found a couple of days when we both could get away, combining our trip with another appointment. That morning as we left my brother's house in Springville a fresh blanket of snow covered the ground and treetops. We drove west on Highway 6 and over the Tintic Mounains through the still-living town of Eureka. 

Ruins of the old Tintic Smelter in Silver City, Utah.

The rise of the Tintic Mining District began near the future site of Silver City. In 1869 a cowboy found a chunk of silver while herding cattle. This caused a frenzy of interest and subsequently other ores were found, giving rise to several mines in the area. 

Coincidentally, it was also around this same time when the mining towns of Park City and Alta began to spring up. The two mining areas would become competitors. 

In Silver City a small town began to blossom. Although hard to imagine now, it consisted of restaurants, hotels, saloons, a gambling hall, blacksmith shops, livery stables and two railroad depots.

Jenna and I continued past Eureka, driving four miles south to a graveled road that joined to the east. Snow still covered the hills, but now the sun crept high enough in the sky that the tops of trees began to lose their white coat. 

This smelter was built in 1908 by "Uncle" Jesse Knight.

Not too far off the road stood the remains of Silver City. The most prominent structure was the old Tintic Smelter built by Jesse Knight in 1908. Just a few years earlier he came in to give a boost to the fledgling town. He bought up several mines and then decided to build the smelter to offset the high cost of freighting. 

On July 24, 1908 the town celebrated “Smelter Day,” along with their usual Pioneer Day activities. Thousands of people showed up and celebrated by eating lots of free food, watching a baseball game and enjoying excursion rides on the train. 

As it turned out, the cost of freight dropped and the smelter could not compete with the Salt Lake smelters. Knight would eventually dismantle and move it to Murray where it operated for several years.

Jenna and I braved the cold and walked around the many ruins. In addition to the smelter there were several foundations from other buildings, but we had no idea what they were. All that remained now were crumbled cement walls and a splashing of colorful graffiti. 

Old Tintic Smelter.

After exploring around the ruins of the smelter we returned to our warm vehicle and drove up the road into Dragon Canyon where we found more ruined foundations. These buildings could have been anything from stores to housing. At its peak in 1908, Silver City boasted a population of 1,500 residents. 

On the north side of the road was a wide hole in the ground with concrete siding that appeared to be a holding tank at one time. On the far side against the hillside were piles of yellow tailings. Further up the road stood an old wooden shack. Beyond here it is private property, I believe owned by a modern mining company. 

Remains of what appear to be a holding tank.  Talings in the background.

Old wooden building up Dragon Canyon.

Who knew what else there was to explore. I was sure that we were just scratching the surface. We turned around and headed back toward the highway. There was one last place I wanted to visit. 

Roughly a mile south of the main ruins sits the Silver City Cemetery. To get there you can either stay on a dirt road or return to the highway and then turn off onto a shorter dirt road. We chose the latter, but still almost got bogged down in a quagmire of mud. By now the snow was melting fast. 

The cemetery is about what you'd expect from a ghost town. A chain-link fence surrounds it, but there is no landscaping and certainly no grass. Some of the individual graves have small fences while a more expansive fence surrounds some of the family plots. I could tell that the cemetery had been maintained from time to time. 

Silver City Cemetery.

According to my research there are roughly 68 graves in the cemetery, most of them with headstones. Death dates range from 1881 to 1937, with a few outliers of modern-day burials. 

There is very little information on several of the burials. Henry J. Smith, for example, died in 1890 at the age of fifteen. There are no other Smith's in the cemetery and I cannot find any record of family. His headstone is broken in half, the top part now leaning against the bottom half. I wonder if there's any distant family member that knows he is buried here?

Headstone for Henry J. Smith. Detail of handclasp and veil suggest he was of the Mormon faith.

I saw many headstones for the Haws family. Most of them died in infancy⸺ six to be exact. All of them were children of Annie and George Haws. The 1900 census shows the family living in Silver City and George working in a quartz mine. By 1910 they were living in the nearby town of Mammoth and George Jr. had now joined his father working in gold and silver mines. A daughter, Luella, worked as an assistant cook at a boarding house. 

In addition to losing nine of their fifteen children during infancy, Annie and George were well acquainted with other tragedy. Their son, Gilbert, had his foot amputated after having it badly injured in a mining accident. Then in 1918 he died from influenza pneumonia. Another son, Leon, was killed that same year in France while deployed to fight in World War I. 

Infant son of George and Annie Haws.

Another person who caught my attention was Marion Elliot Tinder. He died at age 41 and left behind a wife and three kids. It appears his entire life was spent in small mining towns in Utah. He was born in Ophir, thirty miles to the north, a town named after the biblical Ophir where King Soloman brought gold back to Israel. But what really captivated me was the picture I found of him. He looks smooth-faced in the picture and very innocent, especially for someone growing up in a mining town. I thought it sad he died so young. 

Grave of Marion Elliot Tinder.

Marion Elliot Tinder.

On the west side of the cemetery there is a family plot surrounded by a picket fence with peeling white paint. This belongs to the Poynter family and as I researched who they were it became apparent that they revolved around the matriarch of the family, Alice Caunt Poynter. 

Alice was born in England, but immigrated to Utah when her parents joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. While still a teenager Alice chose to marry a “Gentile,” a name given to those outside the church. What makes this Gentile fascinating to me is that he was a member of Johnston's Army, the group that marched to Salt Lake to squash the “Mormon Rebellion.” Alice and Charles Green had two daughters, Elizabeth Ann and Sarah Jane. While the girls were still young, Charles deserted them, leaving Alice a single mother. 

Alice Caunt Poynter.

Shortly after that Alice married William Baxter. Records show that they operated a boarding house in Eureka. They had a son together, but unfortunately this marriage didn't last either. William was shot in a card game in a mining town northeast of Eureka. The man who shot him was charged for murder and killed by firing squad at the Provo jail. It was the first execution in Utah County. 

At last Alice would find a loving and lasting spouse when she married Charles Poynter, a fellow Brit who was trying to make ends meet in a mining town. There are no records of them living in Silver City, but rather in the “foothills of Eureka.” Together they had a daughter, Myrtle. 

Charles Poynter (driver) in the Eureka Hills.

Charles was a good provider for the family and owned a butcher shop. They belonged to the Episcopalian Church in Eureka. 

Alice worked hard to make a comfortable home. She would sing as she performed her household duties. Alice was an excellent cook and skilled seamstress. Myrtle remembers that she made her dresses by hand.

One of the stories told of Charles Poynter took place in the Gibbln's Saloon in Eureka. As the story goes, Josiah Williams walked in with his boy and ordered a whiskey. Subsequently his boy also ordered a whiskey, but the bartender refused it because . . . well, he was just a boy. Poynter, who was also sitting at the bar, made a remark that the bartender made the right decision. 

Williams didn't like that. He shot back that his boy had “just as much right as any son of a bitch in the saloon” if he paid for it. Then the boy joined in and called Poynter a “gray-haired son of a bitch.” At this, Poynter slapped the father in the face, and the father and son left the saloon. 

Sometime later, when Poynter left the saloon, Williams came toward him and gave him a blow to the left side. At first he thought it was just a fist, but then felt a trickle of blood and learned that Josiah Williams had stabbed him with a knife. Poynter survived the ordeal and the incident went to trial, and I'm sure that Williams went to jail. 

Communal plot of the Poynter family.

Funeral of Charles Poynter in 1909.

Alice Poynter died in 1893 at the young age of 52. Charles lived another sixteen years, but spent the last nine as an invalid. Although they lived in Eureka, they are buried in Silver City. Along with other family members they are buried in a family plot surrounded by a picket fence with white peeling paint. 

Next to the Poynter plot is a smaller plot with a chain-link fence. It belongs to Alice's daughter, Elizabeth, from her first marriage. Elizabeth's headstone was broken in half, but someone had carefully fastened it back into place. The inscription tells a brief, but sad story: 

In Memory of
Elizabeth A.,
wife of Wm W.
Mathews.
Born April 10, 1864.
Died July 10, 1889.

Aged 25 yrs 3 mo. 

Also

her infant daughter 

Died July 20, 1889. 

Aged 18 days. 

Headstone of Elizabeth Green Matthews.

It was time for Jenna and I to head out. Silver City was now more than just a pattern of rectangles and lines on Google Maps. It was a place that had come to life with real people who had real stories. 

As we returned to the highway I noted that we didn't pass too many vehicles. This corner of the state didn't get a lot of visitors. This pleased me. As we passed a field with irrigation sprinklers we spotted a coyote plodding through the snow, and then above him a hawk whizzed past. ♠ 

 

Coyote in a field just south of Silver City.

 

Eureka! . . . Utah

Across the street from the abandoned storefronts, we come across a man in a flannel jacket and ball cap. “Can I help you find anything?” he asks in a gentleman's tone. Beneath the ball cap it appears he has a shaved head and above his lip he wears a gray bushy mustache.

“We're just wandering around the town,” I reply.

Of the eight hundred people left in this town, I had just come in contact with the mayor, Nick Castleton. He is very friendly and begins to give me an introduction to the town.

He points to three buildings across the street and explains that a developer wants to restore them to former glory. Not necessarily for the same purpose, as the middle of the three was a whorehouse. He explains that the building on the right would become a restaurant, the middle a dining area along with hotel rooms, and the building on the left they weren't sure what to do with yet. It used to be a bank.

We talk with Nick Castleton on the barren streets of Eureka, Utah, a once lively little mining town nestled in the East Tintic Mountains, west of Santaquin. At one time, there were nearly a dozen saloons in town, and a handful of brothels, countered by a sprinkling of churches.

We stand next to a brick building with a wooden façade, windows boarded up, and iron bars covering the door. Silver Club is painted in large letters on a side wall. According to local records, the building was constructed in 1918. The original function is listed as “unknown.” In the 1920's it served as U.S. Candy Kitchen, a confectionery owned by Peter Bampal and Peter Demos. In 1977, it was a bar. Mayor Castleton tells us that it used to be a brothel.

Built in 1898, The Gatley Building served primarily as a saloon and billiards hall.

He explains that it was the saloons and brothels, not the banks, that were the key institutions for many of the miners. They would come into town with little money. If they promised to buy so much food from the saloons, they would get what was called a “grubstake,” which meant that they were able to stake a mining claim somewhere, as long as the saloon owner received a portion of the profits. After they would mine their claim, they would pay off the saloon owner, and use the rest of the money for more food and then for the brothels.

The Mayor then goes on to tell me about President Herbert Hoover's 1930 Model A Ford wagon. After his second term defeat, President Hoover returned to his original occupation as a mining engineer. He had an interest in several mining operations in Utah, including the Gemini Mine in Eureka. The Mayor points to a nearby hill covered in gray rock. “That is the Gemini Mine,” he says. “It used to be one of the 'Big Four' mines around here.” He then explains that when President Hoover came to Utah, he would drive to Eureka in his Model A Ford that he kept in Provo. He says that the car is now owned by a couple in California and was brought to Eureka last summer for the Silver Days parade.

Porter Rockwell's cabin.

After our visit with the mayor, we wander up Main Street and find an old log cowboy cabin with a metal awning over it. Even though every building on the street is nearly a century old, the cabin appears very out of place. Strips of juniper bark drape the roof. A door at the front of the one-room structure is bolted with a padlock. I peek through the restored glass window and see a table and chair inside that appear consistent with the late 1800's.

This cabin belonged to Porter Rockwell, the infamous bodyguard to the prophet Joseph Smith. Apparently, it was originally located some twenty miles away on Rockwell's Cherry Creek ranch. It was later relocated to Eureka.

Across the street from the Rockwell cabin is the Union Pacific Railroad Depot, which is now a museum. We walk inside the building. I am with my son, Jordan, and his friend, Xavier. It appears we have the place to ourselves. No other tourists, nor anyone running the place for that matter. Several rooms connect together and showcase about anything you can imagine: old mining tools, mineral samples, household furniture, and even a slot machine and poker table. If I didn't know better, I would be mistaken that I had just entered someones shed of artifacts from the 1930's. There is no rhyme or reason to the displays. I suppose some of it is grouped together by some generality: the rocks tend to be together, the kitchen appliances are in the same area etc. But put frankly, it looks like a house full of junk. And if you are into old junk, then it's just the place for you!

Unfortunately, I don't have a lot of time, or else I would love to stay and browse longer.

At last, an elderly couple enter and look surprised that there are visitors. We exchange small talk and then they suggest we take a look out back at some other displays. “Then be sure you check out the jail,” he says, smiling beneath his gray mustache. Of course, we follow his suggestion and aren't disappointed.

I don't think I've mentioned the beginnings of Eureka. Before it was Eureka, the area was known as Ruby Hollow. Chief Tintic traveled through the area frequently and used it as a hunting and camping spot. In 1869, Mormon cowboys searching for stray cattle found an outcropping of ore on the hill, and almost overnight, the area became a booming town where gold and silver was mined. Eureka became the financial center of the Tintic Mining District. By 1910, Eureka was the ninth largest town in Utah with a population of 3,400. After J.C. Penney established its first store in Wyoming, it placed the second one in Eureka.

Now, Eureka is considered a ghost town. Although some 800 people still live here, that number is down significantly from what it once was. Abandoned buildings throughout Main Street and the entire town testify to that decline.

We are here in January and the hills are still covered in snow. We drive up Beck Street, a narrow road that meanders up the hill and past a few old houses, including a bed and breakfast. Next to the treeline, but beyond the point where we are allowed to walk, there is an abandoned mining structure, perhaps a tipple. It is dilapidated and hasn't been in use in decades.

Nearby is what appears to be an abandoned barracks, or perhaps company buildings. The structures have metal roofs and walls, and there are also a couple of Quonset huts. I really wish that I had someone with me who could explain what all these structures are.

All the ground in this area is covered in gray stone. I notice that this same stone is common in many different locations around town, including the Gemini Mine that the Mayor pointed out to us earlier. I believe that it is used as part of the process when the mine is reclaimed.

We wend our way down the hill and to the other side of Main Street. As I drive on a narrow street on the west side of town, I spy a white church with a tall bell tower that is peeking through the trees. It is the old Methodist church on Main Street. I get out of the vehicle and look for a good angle to take some pictures. A small dirt path leads down the hillside and I follow it and maneuver through the weeds to find my picture.

Methodist Church, constructed in 1891.

This unique LDS church was begun in 1902.  The Gothic-style structure was dedicated in 1904 by Apostle Reed Smoot, then a U.S. Senator.  As of 1977, it was listed as a "two-family dwelling."

St. Patrick's Catholic Church is the oldest standing Catholic Church in Utah.  Although St. Mary's Church in Park City was built first, it burned to the ground, leaving St. Patrick's as the oldest standing.  It was constructed in 1885.

Just as I am about to return to the vehicle, I hear a lady yell out, “You can take pictures in my back yard. There's a good view there!”

I look over and she is standing in the shadow of a tree with her arms folded and looking my way.

“Is this your house right here?” I ask, pointing to a small white house with an even smaller square of grass behind it.

“Yes, it is. It has a great view, especially from the corner there.”

I appreciate the gesture and courteously take some pictures near the corner where the old Gothic-looking Mormon church is visible on Main Street.

“So, what is your name,” I ask when I am finished. She has long gray hair and is wearing a cotton nightgown. A hint of alcohol sits on her breath.

“I am Thelma, and this is my friend, Diane.” She points to a lady in a lawn-chair sipping a beer.

She has lived in Eureka for sixteen years. She asks if I am a professional photographer or a writer for a newspaper. I assure her that neither are true.

I point to the mine on the other side of the valley where I just came from and ask her what the structure is. She explains that a railroad spur used to run there and they would load the ore directly into the car. “There used to be a railroad line that ran right where Main Street is now,” she explains. I've got a picture of it somewhere.”

Amid our conversation, Thelma looks at me and says, “There's a lot of people that come here for ghosting.” Maybe she doesn't say ghosting, but maybe ghost-hunting, or maybe even something else not even related to ghosts. I sometimes don't hear very well. Maybe I am hearing wrong.

But then she says, “We even have one in our house. But it's a good ghost.”

I look at her to she if she is kidding, but she's serious. Diane could sense my incredulity and chimed in, “Oh, yeah. I even have one in my house in West Jordan.”

“It even saved my life,” Thelma says. She then tells the story about how her ex-husband's psychiatrist called her and said her ex- wanted to kill her.

“One day when I walked into the house, I was wearing a cotton sweatshirt, and when I was about to enter the room, I felt this ̶” she grabs the back of my shirt near the shoulder blade and pulls it tight. “I looked back and no one was there. I turned right around and walked out. I know it was a ghost. He saved my life. My ex-husband was waiting and was going to kill me.”

I acknowledge her story and certainly believe in the possibility of intervention from the other side. I guess that a ghost story is very appropriate for a ghost town.

The Bullion Beck headframe, constructed in 1890, served to transport men, mules, supplies, and ore in and out of the underground workings. 

On that note, it is a perfect transition to my next destination. We are running low on time and there is one last place I wish to visit. We return to Main Street and drive southwest of town about a mile. On a dirt road just off the highway is the Eureka Cemetery.

Many of the plots are well maintained, despite the lawns being only wild grass and dirt. The old is mingled with the new, although I find the older graves lie mostly at the far western end of the cemetery.

The unpaved lanes that crisscross the grounds are still muddy from recent snows and an occasional puddle lies in the way. Beyond the vast emptiness of a sage brush desert, I see the snow-capped West Tintic Mountains.

Some of the headstones are very fascinating. One in particular that stands out belongs to Sophia Eastman. To me it appears to be in the shape of a tree-trunk with all the branches sawed off into short stubs. On one of the stubs hangs a scroll from a rope, and on the scroll is engraved Sophia's birth and death dates, and states that it was “erected by the women of woodcraft.”

Some of the burials are unmarked, while others are marked only with a piece of wood, of which any possible inscription has long since deteriorated. Many of the graves are marked with crosses, which probably indicates Catholicism as their religion. Others have names that I recognize from Mormon history.

There are even a few with foreign inscriptions. One belongs to Anders A. Sandstrom and from what I can guess, the writing below his name is of Scandinavian origin.

There are many stories here in Eureka. Like the headstones that lie on the surface, I know that many stories exist. But their true depth and character, like the bodies that lie underground, may never see the light of day again. Many stories of these hardy people may be buried forever.

[This post was a blend of two trips to Eureka: one in January and the other in June.]

Sources


Capsule Histories of Commercial and Institutional Structures in the Eureka Historic District. (1977).  From http://pdfhost.focus.nps.gov/docs/NRHP/Text/79002514.pdf

Carr, S. (1972).  The Historical Guide to Utah Ghost Towns.  Salt Lake City, Utah: Western Epics.

Eureka City Historic Walking Tour.  Print.

Eureka City Website.  (2009).  History of Eureka.  Retrieved June 2015,   from http://www.eurekautah.org/index.cfm