Silver Tailings: The Last Indian Massacre

While Nevada is known for several firsts — legalized gambling and prostitution—being two, it should also be known for its historical lasts. This includes the last Indian massacre in the U.S.

It happened near Golconda, east of Winnemucca, February 16th, 1911.  A posse chased down a band of Indians led by Mike Daggett, for the deaths Harry Cambron, Bertrand Indiano, Peter Erramouspe and John Laxague , the month before.

It fell to Indian tracker “Skinny” Pascal to go into the camp try to talk the band into surrendering. Instead, the Indians painted their faces and began to do a war dance.

Daggett would be the first to fall, but the last to die. Pascal shot him twice after Daggett opened fire on the tracker but missed.

Shot up to nine times, Daggett survived for more than four hours; another three Indians died outright.  Women and children, armed with bows and arrows, fought next to the men.

When it was over, one posse member and eight Indians lay dead, among them two boys and two women. All were buried at the site of the battle.

A coroner’s inquest held March 5th, 1911, noted the Indians had taken mostly clothing from the four dead men.  It also concluded the children were wearing those clothes as protection from the cold.

Captured were a teenage girl about 17, a 7-year-old boy, a girl about 4 or 5 and a baby who was found strapped to her dead mother’s back.  They were taken to the Indian school at Stewart south of Carson City, known then as the Carson City Indian School.

A short time later, Evan Estep, superintendent of the Indian agency at Fort Hall in Idaho, took the children with him. Within a year, all the children, save the baby would be dead from tuberculosis.

Taken in by the Estep family, the baby was given the name Mary Jo. She would become a teacher, dying in 1993 when given the wrong medicine while in a Washington state nursing home.


Refitting the Media Template

This is how the same-stream media shifts a story around to fit its template:

From the Associated Press

“SPOKANE, Wash. — Police have arrested one of two teens suspected of fatally beating an 88-year-old veteran of World War II who had survived the battle for Okinawa.

Authorities say the two young men, between 16 and 19 years old, approached Delbert Belton in his car at random Wednesday night outside an Eagles Lodge as he was waiting for a friend.

Spokane Police say they have surveillance images of the attackers. Police have released few details about the person they arrested, other than that he is a juvenile male being held on charges of robbery and first degree murder.”

So what’s missing? The fact that Belton was white and the two teens — Black.

It would have been nice if the same same-stream media had been this unbiased when it came to the death of Trayvon Martin. You can’t trust jus’ one source of news for all your information, you need to do your own investigating.

Silver Tailings: The End of Virgil Earp

At one time Goldfield was the largest city in Nevada and boasted some notable people and events, including Wyatt and Virgil Earp, famous for the gunfight at the OK Corral in Arizona.  Virgil Earp moved to Goldfield in 1904, along with his wife, Allie.

Shortly after his arrival, Earp became a deputy with the Esmeralda County Sheriff’s Office, but his term was brief.  The following year, he came down with pneumonia and on October 19th, 1905, he died in the Miners’ Union Hospital of Goldfield.

But he is not buried in Goldfield, as some stories report. Instead, he’s buried in Portland, Oregon, the home of his daughter, Nellie.

Chris Chism, 1952-2013

Christopher Chism, born November 5th, 1952, passed away August 16th, 2013. He was 60.

Chris graduated from Fortuna High School in 1971, and upon graduation he relocated to the Bay Area. Chris worked at several restaurants: Star’s, A. Sabellas and Lark Creek all in San Francisco.

Chris is survived by his sister Betty Phelps and brothers Dennis Chism and David Chism; sisters-in-law Rita Chism and Sharon Chism and was preceded in death by his parents Donald and Evelyn Chism; brother William Chism; nephew Barry Phelps; and sister-in-law Eileen Chism.

The Fall of the Roman Empire, Rise of the Ottoman Empire, and Today’s Progressive Parallel

The Roman Empire in the 6th century was actually Christian, and divided between the Western and Eastern Roman Empire, and they were falling apart from within.  They had an overextended military, debased their currency to pay off their debts,  a bureaucracy living off the entirety of the Roman people and no of control over their borders.

Sounds vaguely familiar.

Because of this, a number of cities that were originally Christian, like Istanbul or Alexandria, were picked off one by one by the first caliphate.  And if you were a non-Muslim, you fell under a separate legal category called, ‘dhimmi.’

‘Dhimmi’ is an agreement, meaning ‘protection,’ and the those who are ‘dhimmis,’ while protected, are a second class citizen. This “custom,” stretches back to the beginning of the Islamic conquest all the way through the Ottoman Empire.

‘Dhimmis,’ sound much like anyone not willing to side with Progressives, i.e. “Tea Party,” “Conservative,” “Libertarian,” “Christian.” However, it got worse for those living in the region during the time period between the 6th century and the late 1930’s.

Eventually, those placed under ‘protection,’ were either forced to accept Islam or live in this legal area where they could be killed or enslaved. And unlike under Roman law, religious minorities were also disarmed to ensure they could not defend themselves, plus they had to pay a “jizya,” a tax for not being Muslim.

Kind of sounds like “Obamacare,” where you have to either purchase a regulated insurance package or pay a ‘fee.’ But it doesn’t end there’s when you consider the concept of “fay,’ meaning all property actually belongs to the umma, the Islamic community, and anyone outside that community can therefore have their property appropriated to wage war.

Don’t believe it?

Recently the City of Richmond, California put forth a plan to seize underwater mortgages through eminent domain to ‘combat blight.’ City leaders claim the purpose is to keep families in their homes and prevent destabilizing impact of foreclosures.

It’s jus’ crazy talk — isn’ it?

Jeremiah’s Steakhouse is No More

The old and fenced-in building next to Carrows Restaurant near Plumb Lane and Kietzke is no more after crews started demolishing it. Olcese Construction began tearing down the building that formerly housed Jeremiah’s Steakhouse, Tuesday.

Jeremiah’s was one of the first place my wife and I visited for dinner after we moved to Reno. We liked the place so much that we even took her parents and my parents there at various times.

One of the unique things about the restaurant was it ‘cowboy boot collection.’ They had some of the best looking, most artfully designed boots on the shelves wrapping the dining room.

Clearing out the remains of the building should take about five days. There are no plans to replace the restaurant at this time.

Even though it closed nearly a decade ago, I hate to see a piece of my memory torn down.

Return To Six-Mile Canyon

The three of us parked our vehicles, they in the Jeep, me in my Ranger, and we walked across the narrow roadway. It was there that I had one of the most frightening paranormal experiences of my life.

Jus’ two-weeks before, while alone, I was in Six-Mile Canyon, below Virginia City hoping to capture some shots of the sun as it set over Mount Davidson, when I found myself ‘attacked.’ What I at first thought to be an animal, turned out to be a black mass, much like a statically charged, wet blanket drop over me.

By the time I had gathered my wits about me, I was back across the road and struggling to get in my truck. It occurred to me by then that what I thought had happened was something other-worldly.

It left me shaken for a couple of days and I did my best to relate to others what had happened, vowing never to return to the spot. However my friend, Tonya and her husband, Rich wanted to come see if they could experience what I had.

“It’s a little farther back,” I said as I lead the way across the dry creek bed.

Soon we were standing near the spot where I had my experience. I felt a small knot in my gut as Rich continued up the embankment and onto the flat above me and Tonya.

He turned and smiled, “Yeah, there’s a lot going on, here.”

Rich is a ‘sensitive’ and is able to see beyond the dimensions we normally see. Tonya and I climbed up the embankment and joined him.

“There’s a woman standing over there,” he pointed.

Neither Tonya nor I could see anything more than a bush in the place he was indicating. That was nothing new for Tonya as she was still waiting for her first real paranormal experience.

Then Rich added, “She has a husband here and her kids.”

As he said this, Rich pointed to where the three children were. He turned slightly to his right and said, “Samuel is over by that low tree branch.”

Without a word, I raised my camera to take a picture of him. I was hoping to capture a shadow, an orb or perhaps a mist-like image.

“He’s got his shot-gun pointed at you,” Rich informed me.

That’s when I decided I best interact with these spirits before I caused something like what had happened to me before to occur again. I raised my hands over my head as if surrendering.

“This is a camera,” I stated, “and it won’t hurt you. I’d like to take your picture.”

Though I couldn’t see this Samuel, I felt as if I had best be respectful. Rich looked at me and said, “He says ‘Go ahead.’”

I quickly lifted the device to my face and pushed the button, releasing the shutter.

“The three kids like to play along the roadway,” Rich continued, “They’re fascinated with the headlights on the cars and trucks.”

Tonya then asked me, “Are there a lot of accidents along Six-Mile?”

“Not a lot,” I answered, “However they do happen – in fact there was an accident along this road the middle of last week.”

“That’s them,” Rich responded, “People see them and try to avoid hitting the kids playing in the street.”

“I still can’t see or hear or feel anything,” Tonya complained.

“Maybe you’re trying to hard,” I chimed in.

Rich stopped our chatter by raising a hand. He moved his head slightly to the left as if listening.

“Hmm…there’s another Samuel here,” he finally announced, “and he recognizes you, Tom. In fact he’s the one who tossed the net over you the last time you were here.”

“A net,” I shot back in surprise, “That’s what it was!”

Then without warning, I felt weak in the knees, as if I had suddenly been drained of energy. I tried to shake the feeling of, but it wouldn’t go away.

It was at that moment that I saw the fuzzy outline of a man in a red shirt standing next to me on my left side I wanted to turn and look directly, but I knew that if I tried, he would be lost to my peripheral vision for ever.

“There’s someone standing next to me,” I calmly stated.

“Yeah, that’s Samuel,” Rich responded. “He’s the stronger of the two and stronger than all of them.”

“Well, now that I know he’s there, I’m feeling weak,” I complained.

No sooner had I said this, than the figure in the corner of my eye disappeared. However the internal vibrating remained.

“Darn it!” Tonya exclaimed, “You guys are having all the fun!”

She turned around and looked up the hillside. It was obvious having never seen or felt a ghost frustrated Tonya.

That was to suddenly change.

As she turned back, her eyes grew large and she whispered loudly, “I feel someone or something touching my right shoulder-blade.”

She smiled.

After a few more seconds, she added, “It’s a hot sensation, but it doesn’t burn.”

“That’s Samuel,” Rich told her. “He wants you to know he’s here and that he’s real.”

We stood there another two or three minutes, taking in the sounds of the wildlife, watching the sun flit through the canopy of cotton woods above our heads. It was Rich who finally voiced what were thinking.

“It’s time to go,” he said. “I’m starting to feel a bit drained.”

Without saying anything the three of us head back down towards the creek bed and out to the road. I was in the lead and suddenly noticed a large segment of grass tramped down as if something or someone had been there.

I stopped in my tracks.

“What is it, Tom?” Tonya asked.

“There are four or five spirits in front of me, crouched,” I answered.

Unbeknownst to me Rich had already seen what I was feeling, and had held up four fingers to his wife. As I answered Tonya, four white butterflies sprang from the matted-down grassy spot.

“Asians,” I stated flatly.

And as I spoke the words, I heard a voice speaking inaudible words in broken-English. It sounded forced and rehearsed.

While I couldn’t hear the words per say, I sensed them.  I couldn’t help but turn and look at Rich with a smile.

He knew exactly what I was feeling.

Without hesitation I stated to whatever presence was confronting me, “You’re an educated man.”

Somehow I knew that spirit I was sensing was not simply a ‘Chinaman’ working in the mines or some other menial labor-intensive position. Well-educated, he could speak English and held a place of some importance within his community.

I looked at Rich and told him what I was sensing.

He already knew as he answered my next question before I could ask it, “He pretends to by ignorant, so the White man doesn’t know that he understands what they’re saying or doing.”

My head felt light, and I became dizzy. I quickly turned and rushed up to the roadway before I found myself collapsing where I stood.

I had never felt that open before – not once had I ever communicated with something I could not explain and agitated, I could hardly control my excitement.

It was obvious that Tonya was feeling the same agitated excitement as me. Her husband, Rich was kind enough to allow us time to revel in what we had jus’ experience.

About an hour later, we got in our vehicles and headed back up the canyon towards Virginia City. As we climbed our way out of the valley, I heard the echo of children’s laughter reverberating across the high, rocky walls.

“Did you hear the kids?” I asked Rich as he and Tonya pulled up beside me.

“Yes I did,” he answered, “There playing on the hillside over there.”

He pointed directly to the area from where I’d heard the laughter. Tonya slapped the steering wheel of her jeep, “Dang! What children?”

I heard Rich laughing as I pulled away.