Big Bear, CA
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The Hanging of William “Nevada Red” Wood
Hazen, a small railroad and construction-camp settlement in Churchill County, Nevada, established in 1903 along the Southern Pacific Railroad, became a hub for workers on the Newlands Irrigation Project (Nevada’s first major federal reclamation effort under the 1902 Reclamation Act). The town’s rapid growth brought hundreds of transient laborers to build Derby Dam, the Truckee Canal, and related infrastructure. With saloons, brothels, and no resident sheriff, Hazen earned a reputation as one of the state’s roughest towns. Crime—assaults, robberies, and harassment—was rampant, especially in broad daylight. A small two-room wooden jail was built in 1904 near Constable Judd (Jud) Allen’s hotel, but local law enforcement was minimal. Frustration among citizens finally boiled over on the night of February 27–28, 1905, resulting in the lynching of William “Red” Wood (also known as “Nevada Red” or William Wood). This event is widely regarded as Nevada’s last recorded lynching.
Background on William “Nevada Red” Wood
William Wood, commonly called “Red” Wood or “Nevada Red,” was an ex-convict and morphine/opium addict with a long criminal record. He had served time in an Iowa prison and the notorious Sing Sing Prison in New York before drifting west. In Derby, Nevada (a construction camp near the Derby Dam site), he and a partner, Jerry McCarthy, operated a saloon. McCarthy died suddenly under mysterious circumstances in November 1904; Wood fell under suspicion and was run out of town. He briefly stayed in Fallon before moving to Reno, where he was arrested for an armed robbery in a Commercial Row saloon. Police found a complete opium outfit in his hotel room, but the victim refused to testify, and Wood was released. Roughly three weeks later, he arrived in Hazen. Contemporary accounts described him as a “notorious Derby thug and all-around bad man” who exemplified the criminal element plaguing the Newlands Project camps.
The Criminal Climate in Hazen (1903–1905)
Hazen’s economy relied on railroad operations and canal construction, drawing single young men whose wages attracted robbers and opportunists. Citizens reported being harassed daily, even in daylight, with little intervention from Churchill County authorities. Sheriff Robert Shirley in Fallon rarely visited. Constable Judd Allen (a hotel owner with no prior law-enforcement experience) made few arrests. By late 1904, townspeople had grown so exasperated that vigilante talk circulated openly. The February 1905 robbery attempt by Wood was viewed as the final straw.
The Robbery Attempt and Arrest (Evening of February 27, 1905)
Early in the evening of February 27, 1905 (around 6 p.m.), Wood and his companion, “Kid” Wilson (also spelled Wildon in some accounts), attempted to rob two laborers, J.A. Wire and James Wallace, near the Hazen train depot. The victims had walked to the depot to buy tickets to Reno. Wilson pointed a pistol at one man while Wood struck the other with a blow to the head. A struggle ensued, drawing the attention of the station agent and telegrapher. The agent armed himself and rushed to assist, firing a shotgun blast over the robbers’ heads and a second charge toward Wood. Wilson fled and escaped on an eastbound freight train. Wood, armed only with a straight razor, surrendered after the warning shots and was captured. He was immediately taken to the small wooden jail adjacent to Constable Allen’s hotel. Allen posted a young stable hand to guard the prisoner and, by 11:30 p.m., with the town quiet, retired to his hotel about 50 feet away.
The Lynching (Early Morning of February 28, 1905)
Around 2–2:30 a.m. (still technically the night of February 27 into the morning of February 28), a mob of approximately 30 men approached the jail. Using an axe, they broke open the wooden door, dragged Wood into the street, placed a rope around his neck, and hauled him roughly 30 feet to a nearby telegraph pole (sometimes described as a telephone pole). They bound his hands and feet, threw the rope over the crossarm, and asked if he had anything to say. According to a witness, Wood gasped out his innocence and pleaded for his life, but the rope tightened mid-sentence, and he was hauled up. He convulsed in the throes of death as the mob remained largely silent with “no cheers and little conversation.” The rope was tied off at the base of the pole, and the men dispersed quietly into the darkness. Constable Allen and the stable hand later claimed to have heard nothing despite the proximity of the jail.
Immediate Aftermath and Investigation
The body remained hanging until approximately 10 a.m. on February 28, when two women staying at Allen’s hotel noticed it and raised the alarm. Some passersby earlier had mistaken the figure for a dummy placed as a warning to criminals. Allen ordered the body cut down. A coroner’s inquest was promptly held in the Hazen barbershop, where Wood’s body was laid across two barber chairs. The jury examined the telegraph pole and rope and concluded, after “due deliberation,” that “Red had come to his death by being hanged to a telegraph pole with a rope around his neck.” No blame was assigned to any individuals. Sheriff Shirley declined further investigation, stating the inquest settled the matter. Governor Sparks deferred to county officials. Contemporary newspapers, such as the Reno Evening Gazette (February 28, 1905), reported the event in detail, noting that “the officials of the county say there will probably be no further inquiry and it looks like the matter will be dropped.” Hazen’s “better element” (local businessmen and families) silently approved, while the state’s press (outside Fallon) was largely critical. No arrests were ever made.
Wood’s body was placed in a rough coffin nailed together from railroad packing crates. A brief service attended by only six people was held—the first funeral in Hazen. He was buried in an unmarked grave about half a mile north of town, becoming the first interment in the new Hazen cemetery. An entrepreneurial local youth cut the rope into souvenir pieces and sold them briskly; some accounts claim he bought additional rope to meet demand. Crime in Hazen reportedly subsided noticeably afterward.
Legacy and Significance
The lynching of William “Nevada Red” Wood is historically recognized as Nevada’s last known lynching. It symbolized the frustration of frontier communities with weak law enforcement during the boom years of railroad and reclamation projects. While the act was extrajudicial and condemned by much of the state press, it was locally viewed as an effective deterrent. Hazen’s State Historic Marker No. 178 references the event as part of the town’s “tough” reputation. Wood’s unmarked grave and the site of the telegraph pole remain part of Hazen’s ghost-town lore, though the town itself never fully recovered from later fires and highway bypasses.
Sources/References
- Reno Gazette-Journal articles (1972/2014/2025 editions detailing the full timeline, background, and eyewitness elements).
- Forgotten Nevada historical site, including the February 28, 1905, Reno Evening Gazette contemporary account.
- Churchill County Museum Digital Archive (In Focus Volume 3, No. 1), providing the most granular eyewitness and contextual details.
- Additional corroboration from Nevada State Historic Marker No. 178 and Wikipedia summaries drawn from primary sources.
This report is based exclusively on documented historical accounts and newspaper records from the period. It presents the facts of the crimes, vigilante response, and official inaction without modern editorial judgment.
Stone’s Ferry, Nevada
Stone’s Ferry was a former settlement and Colorado River ferry crossing in Clark County, Nevada, established by members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS Church, or Mormons). It served as a vital transportation link between Nevada and Arizona. The site shifted locations over time: initially near the mouth of the Virgin River, then approximately 6 miles downstream, and later 2 miles below the Virgin River mouth opposite Detrital Wash (its primary GNIS-recorded position from an 1875 survey at coordinates approximately 36°7′42″N 114°26′51″W). It lay opposite Detrital Valley, which offered an accessible route south from the Colorado River canyon into Arizona mining districts and north through the Virgin and Muddy Valleys toward Nevada and Utah. The ferry operated as both a commercial crossing and a barge landing in a remote desert-river environment.
Early History/Founding
The crossing originated informally in the late 1860s as Mormon colonists in the Muddy and Virgin River valleys (part of Pah-Ute County, Arizona Territory at the time) used boats left at the Virgin River mouth to cross the Colorado River. This connected their settlements to wagon roads leading south to Arizona mines (such as Chloride, Mineral Park, and Cerbat) and the Hardyville-Prescott Road. Brigham Young visited the area in 1870, but in 1870–1871 the colonists voted to abandon the settlements due to boundary disputes (the area was determined to be in Nevada) and high taxes imposed by Nevada authorities.
One colonist, Daniel Bonelli of St. Thomas, voted against abandonment and remained as the sole holdout. He moved his family to the site, acquired an existing ferry boat, and established a commercial ferry service known as Stone’s Ferry around 1871. The name’s origin is unclear; a 1875 Wheeler survey noted two early operators at the site, including James Thompson (who briefly held ferry rights) and possibly a settler named Stone. The ferry began operations about 6 miles downstream from the Virgin River mouth before being relocated upstream to a more favorable point opposite Detrital Wash.
Economic Activities
Stone’s Ferry functioned primarily as a commercial river crossing for passengers, freight, livestock, and emigrants traveling between Nevada and Arizona. It supported regional mining by providing access to Arizona’s silver districts and served as a landing for barges, such as those operated by Captain L. C. Wilburn. These barges transported salt mined from nearby Virgin River valley deposits downstream to the mills at El Dorado Canyon, where it was essential for processing silver ore.
Under Bonelli’s ownership (after he purchased the rights around 1870–1871), the ferry expanded to haul produce, feed, and salt from his St. Thomas farm and salt mines to mining camps like El Dorado, Chloride, and Cerbat. It also facilitated larger movements, including a band of sheep to Arizona in 1875 and a group of 83 Mormon emigrants in 1877. The operation relied on the river’s flow and manual or animal-assisted boat handling, tying directly into the broader network of Mormon agriculture, salt production, and support for southwestern mining booms.
Decline/Abandonment
The ferry’s original site and operations were short-lived in their initial form. In 1876, Daniel Bonelli relocated the ferry and his family upstream near the old settlement of Junction City (just east of the Virgin River mouth) and renamed it Bonelli’s Ferry. This move centralized operations closer to his St. Thomas holdings and improved access. By the early 1900s, competing railroads and improved overland roads reduced river traffic. Bonelli died of a stroke in 1903; a flood destroyed the ferry in 1904 (though his son later rebuilt and operated it into the 1920s). The associated post office at the renamed site (Rioville) closed in 1906 as irrigation water diminished and economic activity shifted away.
The original Stone’s Ferry site ceased independent operations with the relocation, and the entire area saw full abandonment as a settlement by the early 20th century. All river crossings in the region, including this one, were ultimately inundated by the rising waters of Lake Mead following the construction of Hoover Dam in the 1930s.
Legacy/Current Status
Stone’s Ferry exemplifies the pioneering role of Mormon settlers in developing early transportation infrastructure along the Colorado River in the American Southwest. It bridged isolated agricultural colonies with Arizona’s mining economy, supported salt transport for ore processing, and highlighted the challenges of remote river-based commerce before railroads dominated. The site transitioned into Bonelli’s Ferry (later associated with Rioville/Junction City), which operated longer but shared the same fate. Its history underscores themes of Mormon colonization in southern Nevada, boundary shifts between territories, and the eventual transformation of the Colorado River by large-scale dam projects.
Today, the site of Stone’s Ferry lies submerged beneath the Virgin Basin of Lake Mead. No surface remains are accessible, and it is recognized as one of Clark County’s ghost towns due to its complete inundation and abandonment. It joins other nearby historical sites (such as St. Thomas and Rioville) lost to reservoir waters but preserved in historical records and surveys.
Sources/References
- Wikipedia: Stone’s Ferry, Nevada (drawing on primary historical accounts and surveys).
- U.S. National Park Service, Lake Mead history documents (detailing operators, Bonelli’s purchase in 1877, uses, and submersion).
- James H. McClintock, Mormon Settlement in Arizona: A Record of Peaceful Conquest of the Desert (1921).
- Richard E. Lingenfelter, Steamboats on the Colorado River, 1852–1916 (University of Arizona Press, 1978).
- Additional context from George M. Wheeler’s 1875 Topographical Atlas and surveys; Legends of America historical summaries on Colorado River crossings.
This report is based on documented historical records of Mormon settlement, river transportation, and mining support in the lower Colorado River region during the late 19th century. Stone’s Ferry illustrates the brief but essential role of such ferries in opening the desert Southwest before modern infrastructure rendered them obsolete.
Marta Becket
Marta Becket (August 9, 1924 – January 30, 2017) was an extraordinary American dancer, choreographer, painter, and performer whose life took a legendary turn in the remote desert of California. Best known for transforming an abandoned building in Death Valley Junction into the iconic Amargosa Opera House, she created a unique artistic oasis in one of the most isolated places in the United States, performing there for over four decades.
Here are some glimpses of the stunning Amargosa Opera House interior, where Becket hand-painted elaborate murals of a colorful, eternal audience—including Renaissance figures, clowns, monks, and even a nod to theater critics—watching her performances forever:
Early Life and Artistic Beginnings
Born Martha Becket in New York City’s Greenwich Village on August 9, 1924, she showed creative talent from a young age. She began studying ballet at 14—a relatively late start—encouraged by her supportive yet demanding mother. Despite the delay, her natural ability shone through. By her early twenties, she was dancing professionally with the corps de ballet at Radio City Music Hall and later appeared on Broadway in productions such as Showboat. Beyond dance, she excelled in painting, drawing, and piano, laying the foundation for her multifaceted career.
She later changed her name to Marta Becket and, in the early 1960s, began performing her own one-woman shows on regional tours. In 1962, she married her manager, Tom Williams, and the couple continued traveling across the western U.S., where she first fell in love with the vast desert landscapes.
The Fateful Flat Tire: Birth of the Amargosa Opera House
In March 1967, while on tour and heading to an engagement, Becket and her husband experienced a flat tire in the tiny, nearly abandoned town of Death Valley Junction (originally called Amargosa), near the eastern edge of Death Valley National Park. While the tire was repaired at the local gas station, Becket wandered across the street and peered through a hole in the door of Corkhill Hall, a dilapidated former community social hall built in the 1920s by the Pacific Coast Borax Company.
She later described the moment as mystical—the empty, rundown building seemed to speak to her: “Take me. Do something with me. I offer you life!” Enchanted by the potential, she rented the space for $45 a month (with a dollar down) and took full responsibility for repairs. The couple returned in August 1967 to begin renovations. She renamed it the Amargosa Opera House in homage to the town’s original name.
Here’s the iconic exterior of the Amargosa Opera House and Hotel complex in the remote desert landscape:
A Life of Dedication in the Desert
Becket staged her first performance on February 10, 1968, to an audience of just 12 people. Early years were challenging—she often performed for empty seats—but she persisted, creating her own choreography blending ballet, mime, and vaudeville. Over seven years, she painstakingly painted the theater’s walls and ceiling with vibrant murals depicting a permanent, whimsical audience.
In 1970, a National Geographic article brought national attention, and audiences began arriving from around the world. By 1974, she established the nonprofit Amargosa Opera House, Inc. to preserve the property. She continued performing weekly (later on Saturdays) until her final show in February 2012, at age 87.
Becket also expanded to own and restore the adjacent hotel, infusing it with her artistic vision.
Legacy and Final Years
Marta Becket passed away on January 30, 2017, at her home in Death Valley Junction at the age of 92, from natural causes. Her story of following her heart—leaving the bright lights of New York for a solitary desert stage—has inspired countless artists and dreamers.
The Amargosa Opera House remains a living tribute to her vision, hosting performances, tours, and events to this day. Her legacy endures as a testament to the power of art, determination, and the magic that can bloom even in the most unexpected places.
Here are a few beautiful portraits and moments of Marta Becket herself, capturing her grace and enduring spirit:
Garnet, Nevada – Clark County Ghost Town
Garnet is an extinct town, commonly classified as a ghost town, located in Clark County, Nevada, in the United States. Unlike many well-documented Nevada ghost towns tied to major mining booms, Garnet has left behind almost no physical remnants or detailed historical records. Its significance today stems primarily from its geographic position in a region that has been repurposed for large-scale modern infrastructure, most notably the Apex Regional Landfill. The town’s name likely derives from the garnet minerals abundant in the surrounding desert hills and valleys, a common naming practice in mineral-rich areas of the American West.
Location and Geography
Garnet is situated in the arid desert landscape north of Las Vegas, at coordinates 36°23′19″N 114°52′16″W (approximately 36.38861°N, 114.87111°W) and an elevation of 2,467 feet (752 m). It lies near the junction where Interstate 15 (I-15) meets U.S. Route 93 (US 93). The Garnet Interchange (I-15 exit 64) marks the point where US 93 branches northward toward more remote areas such as Ely.
The broader area, sometimes associated with Garnet Valley, is part of the Apex region. Nearby features include Garnet Hill (a distinct but related site east of Las Vegas, popular for collecting pyrope and almandine garnets in volcanic outcrops). The region’s geology—featuring ancient rock formations and mineral deposits—reflects southern Nevada’s desert environment, with sparse vegetation and rugged terrain shaped by erosion and the Great Unconformity (a significant geologic feature).
Historical Background
Clark County itself has a rich history dating back thousands of years, with evidence of Southern Paiute and other Native American presence, followed by Spanish explorers, Mormon settlers in the mid-19th century, and rapid growth after the San Pedro, Los Angeles and Salt Lake Railroad arrived in the early 1900s. The county was formally created in 1909 from the southern portion of Lincoln County and named after Senator William A. Clark, whose railroad investments spurred development.
Specific details about Garnet’s origins, founding date, or early settlement are virtually nonexistent in public historical sources. It appears in geographic information systems (GNIS feature ID: 845843) as an extinct town but is not featured in major Nevada ghost town guides, mining histories, or local historical society records. There are no accounts of a population boom, notable mines, businesses, or events tied directly to the site. It was likely a very small, short-lived settlement—possibly a minor mining camp, railroad-related stop, or supply point—that never developed beyond a handful of structures. “Not much remains of the former community,” as noted in available descriptions.
The name “Garnet” aligns with the area’s mineral resources, similar to Garnet Hill to the south. It coexisted with other nearby extinct towns like Apex (after which the modern landfill is named). These small outposts reflect the pattern of transient communities in early 20th-century southern Nevada, many of which faded as larger towns like Las Vegas grew and transportation routes shifted. No significant mining production, census data, or newspaper mentions specific to Garnet have been widely preserved.
Modern Significance and Development
In the late 20th and 21st centuries, the Garnet area’s location along major highways made it ideal for industrial use. Its most prominent feature is the Apex Regional Landfill (operated by Republic Services), one of the largest landfills in the world by area and volume. Opened in 1993, the landfill is situated in the Garnet/Apex vicinity and serves as the primary municipal solid waste facility for the Las Vegas metropolitan area. It can accept up to 13,600 tons of waste per day and has capacity for over 250–300 years at current rates. The facility spans thousands of acres, with engineered liners, methane capture systems, and ongoing expansion that involves quarrying surrounding rock.
Although officially named after the nearby extinct town of Apex, the landfill is frequently associated with Garnet in geographic references. The site also supports the broader Apex Industrial Park, one of the largest in southern Nevada, which includes limited additional development such as power infrastructure and other facilities. The Garnet Interchange continues to serve as a critical transportation node.
Conclusion
Garnet, Nevada, stands as a quiet footnote in Clark County’s history—a place that never achieved the fame or longevity of Nevada’s iconic mining towns yet endures in official records and modern geography. Its story mirrors the broader narrative of the American West: fleeting settlements born of opportunity in a harsh desert environment, later overshadowed by urbanization and infrastructure. While the original community has vanished, the area now plays a vital, if unseen, role in sustaining the Las Vegas Valley’s growth by managing its waste for generations to come. Further primary-source research (such as old county maps, railroad records, or unpublished local archives) might uncover additional details, but publicly available information remains limited, underscoring Garnet’s status as one of Clark County’s most obscure ghost towns.
Lost Burro Mine
The Lost Burro Mine is one of the best-preserved historic gold mining sites in Death Valley National Park, California. Located in a remote draw at the northern end of the mountain range separating Hidden Valley from Racetrack Valley (near Teakettle Junction in the Ubehebe Mining District), the mine sits in rugged terrain accessible only by high-clearance 4WD vehicles via a rough 1-mile dirt track off the Hidden Valley road. Its isolation has helped protect the site from vandalism, making it a fascinating glimpse into early 20th-century prospecting life.
Discovery (1907)
The story of the Lost Burro Mine began on April 18, 1907, with a classic tale of serendipity. Prospector Bert Shively, while searching for his stray burros in a remote canyon, picked up a rock intending to throw it at the animals to get their attention. Instead of tossing it, he noticed the rock was laced with visible free gold. Surface assays from the outcroppings reportedly ran from $40 to $1,000 per ton — incredibly rich values for the era.
Shively quickly filed six claims and partnered with others, securing options worth around $45,000. The accidental discovery turned the site into one of the most promising gold properties in the Ubehebe District (an area otherwise known more for lead, silver, and copper).
Early Development and Peak Years (1907–1910s)
Despite the financial panic of 1907, work continued at the Lost Burro, regarded as one of the richest claims in the district. Ore samples averaged high gold values (some reports cite up to $80–$1,450 per ton in early assays), and the mine attracted multiple ownership changes and optimistic plans.
By the 1910s, development included short tunnels along the vein, with ore intersections averaging $25 per ton in later reports. Foundations were laid for a five-stamp mill and cyanide plant, intended to process ore on-site, with water piped in from Burro Spring (about 7.5 miles northeast on Tin Mountain) via a 2-inch pipeline. Remnants of this pipeline — along with rusted oil drums, tin cans, old chairs, and other debris — still litter the site.
The mine’s greatest production likely occurred between 1912 and 1917, though official records are sparse. It stands out as the only exclusively gold-bearing property in the Ubehebe District.
Later Operations and Decline (1920s–1970s)
The mine changed hands several times over the decades and was worked intermittently. In 1942, claims were relocated, and further amendments occurred in 1948 and 1970. A small amount of recorded production (about 255 ounces of gold between 1935 and 1942) exists, but unofficial estimates suggest the total lifetime output may have approached $100,000 in gold value.
Operations wound down by the 1970s, and the site was eventually incorporated into Death Valley National Park, where all mining claims became inactive.
Modern Legacy
Today, the Lost Burro Mine features a remarkably intact wooden cabin (in good condition, with stories of a “curse” leading some visitors to return removed artifacts), an outhouse, multiple adits (some used for storage), a one-chute ore bin, mill foundations stairstepping down the hillside, scattered machinery (including a small retort/smeltor and sluice box remnants), and tailings piles.
The site’s remoteness — requiring a challenging 4WD journey often combined with trips to the nearby Racetrack Playa — has kept it well-preserved and largely free of modern vandalism. Visitors are reminded to leave everything as found, as the area is protected wilderness.
The Lost Burro Mine remains a testament to the tenacity of Death Valley prospectors — turning a frustrated burro chase into a legendary gold story in one of the harshest environments on Earth. Always check current road conditions and permits with the National Park Service before visiting!