Ghosts of Goldfield and Tonopah Read online

  Harry Stimler died in the ambulance en route to Barstow, California. In her book Fire and Forge, Kathleen L. Housley calls Stimler’s killing the most famous murder and suicide in Tecopa; it’s certainly a sad ending to the story of Harry Stimler.

  THE MIZPAH OPENS…FOR THE FIRST TIME

  November 1908 brought bitter cold weather to Central Nevada. By the middle of the month, the temperatures had dropped twenty degrees below the average, setting record cold temperatures. This wasn’t enough to deter hardy Tonopahans from turning out in full force to celebrate the grand opening of the Mizpah Hotel. Five stories tall, the Mizpah was the tallest building in Nevada and would hold this distinction until the Mapes Hotel was built in Reno in 1947. Over in Goldfield, the much larger Goldfield Hotel had recently opened, and now Tonopah had its own elegantly modern twentieth-century hotel. Prominent Nevada businessman George Wingfield, who had a financial interest in the Goldfield Hotel, had been instrumental in getting the Mizpah Hotel opened. Both hotels were designed by the Reno architecture firm of Holesworth and Curtis, and that is where the similarities end—or do they?

  The Mizpah Hotel was built near the Mizpah Mine and is the namesake of the mine. Belle Butler (Mrs. Jim Butler) named both for Mizpah, a word in her favorite bible passage, Genesis 31:49. Like any historic building, the Mizpah Hotel has its legends and its ghosts; its proximity to the old Mizpah Mine practically guarantees a ghost. The deaths and murders that have occurred in the vicinity may well account for some of the strange and ghostly happenings at the Mizpah.

  Mizpah Hotel, circa 1914. Photo courtesy of Central Nevada Museum.

  A view of the Mizpah Hotel from an old postcard. Author’s collection.

  In 2011, after several years of being boarded up and closed, the Mizpah Hotel was refurbished and reopened on August 27, 2011, by owners Fred and Nancy Cline. Among the dignitaries and well-wishers were Nevada governor Brian Sandoval and former governor Richard H. Bryan. Nancy Cline’s roots go back to early Central Nevada when her great-uncle Harry Ramsey (Skidoo discoverer) made his fortune grubstaking miners in Tonopah and Goldfield. Mrs. Cline’s grandmother Emma Ramsey also served as the early Goldfield postmistress.

  With the historic Mizpah Hotel as its centerpiece, Tonopah is once again set to thrive, ghosts and all.

  CHAPTER 2

  TONOPAH’S MIZPAH HOTEL GHOSTS AND LEGENDS

  OLD MINER’S GHOST

  The ghost of a grizzled old miner is said to roam the hallways of the Mizpah Hotel, making a nuisance of himself by knocking on room doors and awakening hotel guests at all hours of the day and night. Since the hotel was built near the entrance to Jim Butler’s Mizpah Mine, the miner probably feels right at home here. It’s been suggested that he is the ghost of a man who lost his life in a mining mishap here in Tonopah. This well could be. Although mining deaths were not common in Tonopah and Goldfield, they did happen.

  The worst mining disaster in Tonopah happened on February 23, 1911, at the Belmont Mine, in which seventeen men lost their lives. Some people believe that this spirit is the ghost of one of those unfortunate men or that of another who lost his life in the mine. Reading through the Biennial Report of the State Inspector of Mines, 1913–1914, it would seem that most of the men who lost their lives in mining accidents were young, but this specter is not. Perhaps the ghostly old miner is the ghost of a long ago prospector.

  Still, the question remains: why does the ghostly miner bother hotel guests like this? Maybe he is only looking for someone…or something. He is usually seen in the hallways and around the elevator. But don’t waste your time trying to talk with him. Psychics have attempted to learn his identity and to communicate with him, but the miner doesn’t seem to be interested in conversation. He keeps to himself until it’s time to wake a sleeping guest, and then he’s off, knocking on doors. How is that for an early morning wake-up call?

  During a pre-opening paranormal convention at the Mizpah, guests had problems with their door keys and locks. It seems that some keys mysteriously stopped fitting into their locks. Hotel staff members were baffled. When called to try a particular key, it would fit fine. However, an hour later, it would not, and no amount of jiggling would make the key work. One of the attendees suggested this was the work of the old miner’s ghost. He used to wreak havoc by knocking on doors and making brief appearances in the elevator; now he was playing with the locks and keys. New locks were put on the doors, and the problem was solved. Now, if only the old miner would stop knocking on the doors…

  THE DEATH OF KEY PITTMAN

  If you’re staying at the Mizpah, you just might receive a visit from an elderly man who happens to be a ghost. If you should wake to see him peering down at you, don’t worry. It’s only the ghost of Key Pittman. He pays no heed to check-out time. The Mizpah was one of his favorite hangouts in life, so it’s no wonder the ghostly senator has been seen in the hotel on several occasions since his death in 1940. Like so many of early Nevada’s high-powered and prominent men, Key Pittman arrived in Tonopah by way of the Klondike gold rush, where he’d joined thousands of others in the quest for the elusive gold. Unsuccessful in Alaska’s gold fields, Pittman met and married his future wife in 1901. That same year, they came to Tonopah, where he opened a law practice in the thriving town. As he became more successful, Pittman entered Nevada politics. Eventually, he would be elected a United States senator.

  Central Nevada was home to Pittman. He especially liked good times with friends at the Mizpah. Perhaps this is why he stays on. If you doubt this, consider the following:

  Back in the 1990s, before the Mizpah closed the last time, my family and I went to Tonopah to see if we could contact the Lady in Red ghost. Her story intrigued us, and we hoped we might catch a glimpse of her. We had dinner and took up our positions in the fifth-floor hallway. We waited and waited. By 3:00 a.m., we were ready to call it a night. For whatever reason, it seemed the Lady in Red ghost was a no-show.

  Senators Pat McCarran (left) and Key Pittman (right). Library of Congress.

  Suddenly, there she was. At least, we thought it was her. A wispy green mist slowly floated from one side of the hallway to the other. Too stunned to take photos, we all agreed that we’d seen the ghostly woman, although it might have been anyone. Off to our rooms we went.

  But when I climbed into bed, I couldn’t sleep. A bright red light was shining in my window from across the street. I turned my back to the window and drifted off. A few minutes later, I was startled awake by a humming sound. I sat up and saw an old man floating near the ceiling. He was encircled by a red light and seemed to stare down toward me. He wasn’t looking at me but in my direction. I sat up and said, “Please, whoever you are. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me tomorrow, and I need some sleep.” Covering my head with the pillow, I went back to sleep.

  The next day, I told my mother-in-law what happened, and she got very excited.

  “What did he look like? Was it Key Pittman?” she asked.

  I didn’t have a clue what Key Pittman looked like. The old man I saw looked sickly, that’s all I could tell.

  Well, she wasn’t done. As soon as we got home, we had to go to the library. My mother-in-law had an idea. She pulled me to the Nevada section and started poring over books. Finally, she found what she was looking for and showed me a picture of a group of men. “Is the old man here?” She asked.

  He was. “That’s him,” I said.

  She really got excited then. “That’s Key Pittman! I knew it…I just knew it. You saw the ghost of Key Pittman. Now I really believe that bathtub story.”

  The story of how Key Pittman posthumously won an election first appeared in print in the 1963 book The Green Felt Jungle by Ed Reid and Ovid Demaris. Since that time, the tale has developed into the legend that will not go away; it’s a bitter bone of contention between Nevada historians. Both sides of the argument hold strong opinions as to where Key Pittman actually was when he died of a massive heart attack on November 10, 1940. Most belie
ve he was in Reno, either at the Riverside Hotel or Washoe General. But according to the legend in The Green Felt Jungle, Senator Pittman was some 250 miles south in Tonopah when death claimed him. Fearing the loss of an important election, his fellow democrats kept Pittman’s body on ice in a Mizpah Hotel bathtub until after he won reelection. Then, only after he was declared the winner of the race was his death announced. This feat would have required a large bathtub and an enormous amount of ice—not an impossible task, judging by the size of the claw-foot bathtubs at the Mizpah. When considering the validity of the bathtub story, it is also important to note the need to transport the deceased to Reno for his funeral.

  Funeral of Senator Key Pittman. Author’s collection.

  According to The Green Felt Jungle authors, a political maneuver by Governor Carville only adds to the story’s credulity. Shortly after Key Pittman’s death was announced, Governor Carville appointed himself to Pittman’s vacated senate seat, thus moving Lieutenant Governor Vail Pittman (Key’s younger brother) to position as governor.

  Among those who claimed that Pittman was alive after the election were his wife, Mimosa, and Sister Seraphin, a St. Mary’s Hospital official. Mimosa later wrote that she had visited him at the Washoe General Hospital shortly before he died. Former Nevada state archivist Guy Rocha has attempted to dispel the myth of Pittman’s posthumous win. But then again, suppose the tale is true, and several dozen people conspired to keep the sordid secret…

  LADY IN RED GHOST

  The beautiful and tragic Lady in Red is by far the most famous ghost in residence at the Mizpah Hotel. In life, she was a naïve and relatively inexperienced member of the world’s oldest profession who plied her trade in the hotel. Though her origins are, for the most part, unconfirmed, it is certain that she was murdered in front of Room 502 on the fifth floor of the Mizpah Hotel. She was said to have been caught off-guard by a jealous lover who strangled her to death. Some say she was also stabbed. Since her premature death in the early 1920s, her presence has been widely reported by hotel staff and guests; footsteps are heard in empty hallways, numbers have lit up on unplugged keno boards and pearls—like the ones she wore the night she was killed—have been found on guests’ pillows.

  Several years ago, I was told the story of the Lady in Red ghost and how she delighted in playing with the unused keno board that hung in the Mizpah gaming area. As a former keno writer myself, the story intrigued me. What if a ghost really could play with the board? If a game were in progress, this could certainly wreak havoc between those who saw their lucky numbers flash on the board and those who had to explain to them that it was simply a malfunction or a ghost. But the keno game was no longer operating at the Mizpah, so the Lady in Red was free to choose her numbers any time she wanted. And apparently she did so, often. Or so the story went…

  Jim Butler Days 2011 found me in the Mizpah Hotel with my husband, Bill, and Virginia Ridgway. We were there being afforded a glimpse of the Mizpah Hotel’s renovation, a work in progress. As we made our way through the workshop area of the basement, I spotted the old keno board and suddenly stopped. If the Lady in Red were still in residence, perhaps she would do me a favor. After explaining to the others about the ghostly woman’s supposed propensity for playing with the keno board, I pointed toward the board and said, “Please light up number twenty-eight.”

  She didn’t. Disappointment surged through me. Maybe she was upstairs overseeing the work that was being done to bring the hotel back to its former beauty. Maybe she’d lost interest in keno and was ignoring me. Reminding myself that ghosts don’t respond on command, I continued through the basement area.

  Author with haunted keno board at the Mizpah Hotel. Photo by Bill Oberding.

  Later that week, I was back home and downloading my photos. Carefully eyeing each for anything anomalous, I came to the one of me pointing toward the keno board. If only the Lady in Red had lit up number twentyeight…but wait! There on number twenty-eight was a nice bright orb! Maybe she had done me a favor after all. Perhaps it was only a coincidence. Yes, perhaps, but then again, you just never know.

  Apparently, the Lady in Red ghost is selective about who she appears to. According to legend, anyone lucky enough to see the Lady in Red ghost will not only be followed throughout the hotel by her but also might find a single pearl left on the pillow or nightstand. This is her way of making a fashion statement, perhaps. During the Roaring ’20s, long strands of pearls were the must-have fashion accessory for women from all stratum of society. From flappers to the first lady, the pearl was de rigueur.

  The Lady in Red ghost is the bane of the housekeeping department. Room 502 is especially troublesome. When they clean a room, the housekeeping staff members want everything tip-top, as it should be. This naturally includes a well-made bed. But the Lady in Red likes nothing better than to leave indentations of her ghostly handprints on the bedspread. One wise young lady even went so far as to ask the Lady to kindly refrain from her antics. Hopefully this will work.

  During their investigations, ghost hunters sometimes use what they call trigger objects, something that was important to the ghost they are attempting to contact. Since the ghostly Lady in Red favors red apparel from her dress to her shoes, ghost investigators will use red shoes as trigger objects when trying to photograph her or record electronic voice phenomena (EVP). Whether you are a ghost investigator or not, remember that if you bring a pair of pretty red shoes with you to the Mizpah, there’s a good chance they will be misplaced. But not to worry, the Lady in Red only wants to borrow your shoes for a short time. She will return them…eventually.

  HAUNTED ELEVATOR

  A lot of ghostly activity happens in the Mizpah’s old-fashioned elevator. In the early 1980s, the Lady in Red made an appearance to a man who thought ghosts and hauntings were nonsense, foolishness on the part of anyone who believed in such. His brush with the paranormal came unexpectedly. He happened to be a member of a local men’s club that was holding its luncheon meeting at the Mizpah. Once the meeting was adjourned, some of the men found their way to the bar. Others wandered through the hotel, admiring its early Nevada décor. The gentleman in this particular story didn’t partake of alcohol. Rather than hang out at the bar, he climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. There he got in the elevator and made his way down, stopping at each floor. After exploring the second floor, he got in the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby. To his amazement, the elevator started going up. He punched the button again and again; the elevator, as if it had a mind of its own, continued its ascent to the top floor.

  When the elevator stopped on the fifth floor, a nicely dressed, attractive woman stepped in. She gave the gent a friendly nod and a smile. “Good afternoon,” he said, pressing the down button for the lobby.

  He chatted with her during the elevator’s descent. When the elevator arrived at the lobby, the door opened, and he gallantly stepped aside for the lady to walk out ahead of him. Much to his surprise, he was alone in the elevator. How on earth, he wondered, had the lady gotten past him with his having seen her? The only explanation was one he didn’t want to think about.

  He didn’t drink, but this experience was so disconcerting that he wanted a drink. No, he needed a drink. He hurried to the bar and asked the bartender for a double anything. Then, turning toward the other men at the bar, he told them about his unusual experience in the elevator.

  One of his friends asked, “Did she talk to you?”

  “No,” he replied. “I guess I carried on a one-way conversation. She merely smiled and nodded.”

  The bartender placed his double in front of him, and he gulped it down.

  “What was this lady wearing?” someone asked.

  “Some kind of a red dress,” he answered. “I don’t know much about women’s fashions, but it looked to be woolen and red.”

  The man smiled and said, “You’ve just been in the elevator with our Lady in Red ghost who resides on the fifth floor.”

  The teeto
taling gent ordered a refill and chugged that down as well. Thus initiated into the world of doubles and ghosts, he left the hotel for who knows where. He may have even reconsidered his stance on ghosts.

  MUSIC IN THE ELEVATOR

  During the 1980s, people occasionally complained that the Mizpah elevator seemed to run of its own volition. It would run up to the upper floors, doors would open, music would be blaring—and not a soul would be on board. In early 2011, the elevator wasn’t working; repairmen worked feverishly to get it up and running in time for the hotel’s grand reopening. One day while they worked inside the elevator, two men heard continual music and wondered where on earth it was coming from.

  Curiosity got the better of them. They ran out of the elevator, telling everyone within earshot about the mysterious music. Finally, others stepped inside the elevator and listened. They, too, heard music. After a cursory search of the elevator, the repairmen opened its ceiling and discovered a jukebox. But how could it be responsible for the music? The jukebox hadn’t been activated in years. For that matter, it wasn’t even plugged in.

  Taunting laughter and whispers have also been heard by those riding the elevator. While in the elevator, several people have heard a voice saying, “Get out!”

  WHO WALKS THE FLOOR?

  The ghost of a little boy haunts the hallways of the Mizpah. He’s usually described as being dressed in clothing of a century ago, but not always—the ghostly child has also appeared in more modern attire.