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David Dotta was born in 1887 in Elko but his family lived in Carlin for a few years.  His father identified his occupation as a farm laborer in the 1900 U.S. Census taken in Carlin.  Dotta would eventually go on to become the mayor of Elko for a number of years and share a unique relationship with the star, Bing Crosby.  In addition to living in Carlin when he was a young boy, Dotta also married a native Carlin girl, Rosa Sperlich.  Rosa and David married in 1921.  Rosa’s family remained in Carlin and the Dottas were regular visitors to the community. 

In the Elko Independent newspaper of February 8, 1973, David Dotta talks about Carlin Canyon and how the community of Carlin spent a day working on improving the road between Elko and Carlin.  The following is the article retyped for us to enjoy!

David Dotta Recalls Travel by Automobile Sixty Years Ago

By David Dotta

A trip through the Carlin Canyon always reminds me of a grade that existed just 14 miles west of Elko, way back in 1913 – a grade that was so steep and sidling and rocky that it is a wonder that no automobile ever slid off of the road and into the river.

The automobiles of those days had but little power and were very temperamental – if they were too hot or too cold or not working just right for other reasons, they would get stuck before reaching the top of the grade and the driver could do nothing except back all the way down to the bottom and try a new start – a move that was very dangerous.

Carlin people who owned cars wanted to drive to Elko to do their shopping, banking and to attend to other business.  Getting to Elko was no problem, but all were afraid of climbing that grade on their way back home – particularly if they were loaded – that is, if the cars were loaded – not the people.

Big Highway Department

Elko county’s highway department consisted of Knox Crane, two horses and a wagon.  He did a good job, but all of his time was taken in fixing broken bridges and taking care of other emergencies – leaving him no time to work on larger projects or improving existing roads.

Under the circumstances, the Carlin people who were interested in getting the grade improved, decided that the only way was to do it themselves – so, it was decided to hold a Sunday picnic up in the canyon and invite all those who were capable to do a day’s work, to be there with their picks and shovels to go to work.

A date was set and Elko people were also invited to be there all prepared to do their part. 

As near as I can remember, about 33 people were there from Carlin, including three or four women who came to take care of the lunches.  Only four of us showed up from Elko, including my father and me, but my father rounded up a Lawrence Gruppi, an Italian strong man, who was an expert at handling picks, shovels, and crow bars.  He worked hard all day long and, probably, got as much done as any two or three of the rest of us – but there were many other good diggers, all of whom pitched in to do the very best they could to make the effort successful.

There was an abundance of beer on hand which was said to have been donated by Joe Isola, who was the owner of the Overland Hotel.  It was a life saver during the heat of the day, but no one drank too much – it was not a drinking party by any means – just a group of people who thought of nothing except to get the job done.

The effort resulted in getting the high side of the road cut down all of the way – just a few inches but it was enough to make the road more level and reduce the danger of sliding off into the river.  Many good sized rocks were dug out and the holes were filled with dirt and gravel.  Even the women got into the act by digging and raking out small rocks.

At the end of the day, all of us tried our cars out by climbing up on the grade and every one reached the tope without having any trouble – it was all low gear work, of course, but no one expected to make a high gear grade out of it.

It was a tired bunch at the end of that day, but there was satisfaction of having accomplished what we started out to do.

It was a rather remarkable job done, in my opinion, considered it was done by a group of people from all walks of life who had the courage and the ambition to tackle a job like that.

None of us, at the time, even dreamed of ever seeing those hills leveled off, those massive bridges across the river, and those eight million dollar tunnels that are being drilled through the mountain.

I was the youngest one of the group that met at that picnic, which included members of old time families and new comers who were railroad employees – I may be the only one of the whole group that is left.

Carlin had a variety of town constables in the early years but one of its longest-serving officers was Adolph Berning, also known as Dolph.  Constable Berning was elected in 1916 at the age of 31.  He beat the incumbent, Charles Kappler.  Kappler had been born in Carlin.  Prior to Kappler, a man named Cozzens, who owned and operated the Railroad Hotel on Main Street, was constable.  It is unclear for how long. 

Constable Berning had moved to Carlin in 1905 to work for the railroad.  After his election in 1916, he would serve as Carlin’s constable until his death in 1942.  His job as Carlin’s peace keeper kept him very busy and by all accounts he was very good at his job.  He regularly caught criminals that had slipped through the fingers of other peace officers in nearby communities.  He was also active in the community during World War II when he served on the Elko County Defense Council as the police and air raid warden.  He also helped organize and direct local Conservation Corps projects in the area in the 1930s.  His death came at the hands of two young men who escaped a reform school in Indiana and were making their way west committing crimes as they went.  This wasn’t uncommon.  In fact, Constable Berning had arrested a trio of three young men from Cincinnati, who had stolen a car and were on their way to San Francisco, just a few years earlier.  But, in 1942, the youth he tried to apprehend at Emigrant Pass near Carlin was armed and fatally shot Constable Berning. 

The two young men, both 15 years of age, were Floyd Loveless and Dale Cline.  They had escaped from an Indiana reformatory school in a stolen car.  In Elko, the two argued and Loveless stole a truck for his own use.  Loveless continued in the stolen truck westward while Cline followed him in the car.  Upon discovering the theft of the truck, word was sent to Constable Berning of Carlin to intercept the truck.  Berning successfully pulled over the truck but when he tried to physically remove Loveless from the vehicle Loveless shot him.  Berning fell forward into the truck, Loveless shot him again and then started off again.  He soon stopped and Cline encouraged him to abandon the truck.  Loveless agreed and the two left Berning in the truck.  He was found soon afterwards by other law enforcement officers and he was taken to the hospital in Elko but he succumbed to his wounds.  A funeral for Berning was held a couple of days later in the “flower-banked auditorium of Carlin High School”. 

Floyd Loveless was charged with the murder of Dolph Berning.  He initially pled not guilty but he admitted to the slaying on the stand during trial with the hope that he could avoid the death penalty.  At the time of trial, he was but 16 years old.  The jury found him guilty of murder and under Nevada law, the judge was obligated to sentence him to death but such a sentence could be commuted by the Board of Pardons or the governor.  The case was appealed to the Nevada Supreme Court and a stay of execution was granted.  After review, the Nevada Supreme Court ordered a new trial after finding that the jury failed to state specifically what degree of guilt that Loveless was found guilty of.  Specifically, was he guilty of murder in the first degree or second degree?  The new trial opened on November 16, 1943, and concluded on November 17^th.  The jury found Loveless guilty of first-degree murder.  Loveless was committed to the care of the Nevada State Prison where he would await his execution in the gas chamber unless granted a commutation of sentence.  His execution was finally scheduled for September 29, 1944, and by that time he was almost 18 years old.  He was the youngest person to ever be executed in the State of Nevada.

His case became a national headline and people from all over the state and country wrote to him, the governor, and the warden of the Nevada State Prison begging that he not be executed.  But, alas, his plea went unanswered. 

Chillingly, in an odd foreshadowing of the future, Constable Berning arrested a man named Luther Jones, for disturbing the peace in Carlin in 1936.  Unbeknownst to Berning, Jones had brutally murdered four men just days earlier in Elko.  When arrested by Berning, Jones oddly asked how criminals were executed in Nevada.  Berning replied that criminals were executed by gas in Carson City.

April 7, 1999

The following is an article by Fran Thiercof.  It originally appeared in The Carlin Express newspaper. It is being reprinted here with permission from the editor-in-chief, Ruth Hart. 

It’s hard to imagine this town without the railroad as the central industry.  I mean, everybody and everything revolved around the railroad.  It was vital to all of us.  The Beanery, yard office, round house and express office, huge building, don’t exist now.  I see them very clearly in my memory of downtown Carlin.

The Beanery was a large two-story building where the Mile Post is now.  It took up almost the entire block.  The Mormon Church was on the very corner, the rest of the block was S.P. Property.  The Beanery housed a restaurant and a hotel, barber shop and gift shop.  It was a nice place to go for dinner, it was well maintained and clean, and most of all, reasonable.

The Yard Office was across the street from where Garcia’s is now.  It was another large building housing the telegraph office, offices of S.P. personnel and where crews went to check out their status.  Dr. Eastman’s office was also there, with a side entrance. 

The Roundhouse was behind the Beanery, quite a ways back, and here is where work was done on the engines.  There was a huge round cement lined pit, so they could be turned and headed in another direction if need be.  There was also large “barns” where engines were kept and worked on.  There was a building where sand was stored, I guess as a fire deterrent, I’m not sure.  High school boys went to work here as soon as they turned 16 and many never tried to work anywhere else.  The money was good, but the hours were difficult at times.  There was a story about a couple of young kids that were working in the roundhouse after school and it was winter and they were in the sand house sleeping.  One work up and said they’d better be getting home.  The other replied, “Oh heck, Ray, lay down and work another hour.”

Another part of this downtown complex was the express office.  It was across the street from the City Club and had a very large platform completely around it.  This was used primarily for stacking large items to be shipped by freight.  Mr. Puryear was the man in charge when I was in seventh or eighth grade.  Sheepherders brought their huge bags of wool here to be shipped out after the shearing.  They’d be piled three or four deep on this platform.  It was great fun to jump around on them.  They didn’t give much but they were kind of soft.

Mr. Puryear had been a drum major in his younger years and taught me several really neat tricks with a baton.  I used those tricks for many years, when I was a majorette and taught them to others.

The family pictured above exudes respectability but history tells a different story.  Fritz and Rosa Sperlich immigrated to America from Austria in 1882.  Like many of Carlin’s immigrants, how he ended up in Carlin is unknown.  He and his wife, Rosa G. Sperlich, had three children, Rosa A., Oscar (on the right), and Maxmillian.  Oscar was born in 1895 but died in 1902. 

The 1900 Census identified Mr. Sperlich’s occupation as that of a Barber.  Mr. Sperlich died in 1908.  Mrs. Sperlich had no problem doing what was necessary to support her family.  Mrs. Sperlich’s occupation in the 1910 Census was that of a drugstore merchant.  Her familiarity with drugs led to her being fined for selling drugs illegally in 1912.  The Elko Daily Independent reported that “Mrs. Sperlich had been selling morphine and cocaine to drug fiends in violation of law and that one of the fiends had come to the county hospital with the drugs and boasted that he could get all the dope he wanted at Carlin”. 

Meanwhile, young Max at 15 years of age was finding his own trouble.  The barkeeper at the Railroad Hotel was charged with selling whiskey to Max.  Max insisted that he drank the whiskey that was left by men at the bar when the barkeeper was not looking. The barkeeper was acquitted.  Unfortunately, the Elko Daily Independent had this to say about Max, “[t]the boy struck the writer as being on the down grade with an ambition to be a hoodlum.  A good dose of slipper administered with a strong heavy hand might bring him to his senses.”

In 1918, Mrs. Sperlich clashed swords with prominent Carlin resident, Mr. J.W. Puett.  The Elko Indpendent reported the following events:

“The war has reached Carlin.  J.W. Puett, prominent Carlin man, owner of the Carlin townsite and much other property in the railroad city, is in dutch.  Puett lost his equilibrium, his temper or his mental poise yesterday when he called Mrs. R. Sperlich, also a prominent Carlin citizen, a pro-German, and Mrs. Sperlich walked right over to the justice court and had Mr. Puett officially and uncompromisinely pinched.  The charge preferred against him was disturbing the peace and Puett is today facing a jury of twelve men in Judge Bielar’s court, and conducting his own defense.”

The end of the story resulted in Mr. Puett being convicted.  The newspaper reported that his “bitter words passed between” him and Mrs. Sperlich on Main Street were probably the result of his recent loss to Mrs. Sperlich in the school election.

But, the Sperlich family really got going during Prohibition.  In November of 1921, “[o]ver $1,000 worth of new auto tires and cigarettes were found in the cellar of a house belonging to Mrs. R.G. Sperlich”.  Eight gallons of moonshine whiskey were also found.  The tires and cigarettes were apparently stolen property.  Of course, no one would confess ownership of the items and no arrests were made.  Interestly, that same year, Mrs. Sperlich’s daughter, Rosa, was married to the supervisor of police in Elko, Mr. David Dotta.  Interestingly, David and Rosa divorced in 1927 but remarried in 1932.  David Dotta became mayor of Elko in 1929 and served as Mayor until 1955.  Some of his most well-known moments were captured with Honorary Mayor Bing Crosby.  David and Rosa remained married until Rosa’s death.  They had no children.

In 1923, the Nevada State Journal announced the opening of a new building in Carlin.  The occasion was marked with a “monster” dance.  The building was identified as the Sperlich building.  It was described as a two-story brick building measuring approximately 25 x 100 feet.  It was located next to the Overland Hotel.  The newspaper reported that the lower level would have a cigar and tobacco establishment run by an Elko businessman and that the upper floor would be a rooming house run by Mrs. R.G. Sperlich. 

And the good times continued, Max was arrested for stealing coal in 1926 and in 1928 he opened one of Carlin’s most well-known watering holes, The City Club.  Of course, in 1930, it was raided and Max was arrested when “a small quantity of whiskey was found”. 

In 1930, Mrs. Rosa Sperlich passed away.  Her estate was administered by David Dotta.  There seems to have been some dispute within the family over certain matters as Mrs. Sperlich’s daughter and Dotta’s wife, Rosa A. Sperlich, was forced to sue the estate because she foreclosed upon a piece of property owned by her mother and she was owed money by the estate as a result.  The District Court decided in favor of Rosa but Dotta appealed the case to the Supreme Court.  The appeal was dropped upon agreement of both parties.

In 1937, Max leased the City Club and it would continue to be leased to various parties until it was sold by Max’s second wife, Marion, in 1969 shortly after Max’s death. 

Max himself married Mrs. Louise Archibald at the home of Mayor and Mrs. Dave Dotta in 1939.  Both stated on their marriage license that they had been previously married and divorced, Max in 1931 and Louise in 1938.  It must not have worked out because Max married Marion Douglas in 1941. 

One of the most well-known stories that is told about Carlin’s bars is from World War II.  It is said that due to the bars habit of providing beer to the troop trains as they passed through Carlin, the War Department and City required all bars to close when a troop train passed through town.  As the train approached, a whistle would be blown and the bars would have to lock their doors. 

It is hard to imagine nowadays a group of folks forming a club in which they saddle up the horses and go for a leisurely ride to exotic locations, such as Tyrol or Woodruff Canyon, for a “steak fry”. But, that is exactly what the Carlin Riding Club was all about in the beginning. The group was formed in April of 1948 for “residents of this community interested in riding”. YEE HAW!

Founding members consisted of both men and women and the group held monthly dinner meetings either in the basement (also called the “parlor”) of the old Catholic Church on Main Street or in the homes of members. The riding group for outings usually had anywhere from 10 to 15 participants.

But, dinner meetings and rides were not the only things the Riding Club got up to. In 1954, they sponsored a local Carlin beauty queen from the Silver State Parade to appear on TV in Salt Lake City, and in 1955 they purchased a jukebox for the new youth center (located in the City Club building on Main Street).

In 1956, Frank Batt donated a piece of land on the north end of Carlin and Vernon Scott donated a house for it so the Carlin Riding Club would have a clubhouse. For many, many years the Riding Club would host the annual Turkey Shoot in the building in order to raise funds for the clubhouse expenses. Betty Pearson joined the Club with her husband in 1961 and said that in later years, owning a horse or riding were not requirements to join the club. Sadly, the Carlin Riding Club faded away, the clubhouse was sold, and there are few left who were once members.

For as long as I can remember, people have been asking Carlinites that live close to the tracks, if the trains bother them and Carlinites that live near the tracks have said they don’t even hear them anymore.

It seems this has always been and will always be in every town that tracks roll through.

Here is a unique newspaper article from the past that highlights this unique aspect of railroad towns…

A rewrite of an editorial from the San Jose, California, “Evening News” in 1942.

Railroad Noises

We have always resented those snooty expressions, “across the tracks” or “down by the tracks,” with their implication that there was something disreputable and socially low-life about living near railroad tracks.  After living many years a block from the Espee’s rails, we rise to say that there are worse places to live.

Living close to the railroad has its obvious advantages when you are a boy.  Where is there a more romantic place than the right of way, with wheezing switch engines, puffing freights (which travel so much faster now than they used to) and speeding passenger trains?  Morning, noon, and night railroading holds attraction for a boy, which is why so many of them go into it, finding a romance which never dulls until they die. 

“But how can you stand the noise?” someone asks.

Far from being bothered by the noises, you get so you find them soothing and conducive to repose.  You get so you can tell the freight trains from the passengers, and you distinguish the touch on the whistle rope of that individualistic engineman who makes his blasts so short, sharp, and distinctive. 

The various whistle notes represent to you these giant creatures of fire and steel talking to one another over long distances and on winter nights, when the wind is blowing and the rain is pelting against the windows it is pleasant to think of engineer and fireman, snug in their cab with the fire roaring below them, shunting lines of cars up and down the glistening wet tracks.

If these night noises from the tracks are comfortable and appealing to you during peace they have even more of these qualities during war.  You realize that both the wars in which we are engaged are transportation wars and must be won not only in the foxholes and workshops but on the railroads as well.  Some of the particularly long trains you hear puffing and snorting these nights are troop trains and others are weighed down with war’s materials.  It is comfortable to reflect what a great job the railroadmen are doing, driving their trains and switching their cars 24 hours a day, even when you are asleep.

Back a few years, when trucks and buses started to cut more and more deeply into railroad revenues, with the airplane as an additional competitor just ahead, as a boy living near the tracks you may have wondered a little worriedly if they would put your old friends, the freights and passengers, out of business.  It took the war to show that a nations need of railroads continues, that no nation can be great and strong without them.  You are reassured by that, and by the articles and drawings that have been published of vastly improved equipment which will help the railroads get their share of traffic after the war.  Such things mean your friends will be able to stay alive and that, drowsily safe and comfortable, you will continue to hear the trains chugging and puffing through the night. 

1870

Today’s celebration doesn’t look much like the way Carlinites celebrated over 150 years ago!  Let’s take a look back in time to see how it was done in 1870 and then in 1901!

In 1870, the United States celebrated its 94^th birthday.  A parade was the highlight of the day and it was announced in the newspaper with a very specific list of the order of participants.  The order was as follows:

“The Procession will form at the Carlin Hotel, corner of Main and Gillett street, at 9 o’clock A. M., in the following order:

First Division – Headed by the Carlin Band – President of the Day – Orator and Reader in coaches.

Second Division – Drum Corps – Central Pacific Steam Fire Company, marshaled by W. Hazen, Foreman.

Third Division – Ladies in Carriages – Carlin Glee Club – Webster’s Literary Union – W.A. Smith, Marshal.

Fourth Division – Citizens and Invited Guests, headed by the Carlin School, in carriages escorted by the Carlin Hook and Ladder Company, w. Blackburn, Foreman.”

The parade began at 10 a.m. and its route was, as follows:

“Up Main street to tenth; from Tenth to Cedar street, from Cedar to Sixth street, from Sixth to Hamilton, from Hamilton to Fourth street, where the procession will halt opposite the Carlin Hotel, where the literary exercises of the day will be held…”.

The “literary” exercises included a reading of the Declaration of Independence, singing, and music by the Carlin Brass Band.

After the “entertainment”, the whole group would “march to the Picnic Ground, at the head of Maggie creek, at Pierce’s lake, where boats and other amusements will be provided, so that all can enjoy themselves; adjourning with light hearts from the grounds of pleasure to the Ball Room…”

Wow!  It was quite an ambitious event and it must have been amazing to see the carriages decked out, the ladies of Carlin in their finest gowns, and the instruments of the brass band shining in the sunlight!

1901

And, what about 30 or so years later?  What was the Fourth of July like in Carlin in 1901?  Let’s see…

The day began with a baseball game between the Southern Pacific’s steel tank crew and the semi-professional Carlin baseball team, typically referred to as the Carlin nine.  The Carlin nine beat the tank crew by one run.  After the baseball game, the people of Carlin gathered at the Carlin Library to hear the Carlin Glee Club sing, the reading of the Declaration of Independence, and other speeches.  In the afternoon, the fun began.  There were bicycle races, foot races, wheelbarrow races, and even a “fat woman’s race” and a “fat man’s race”.  A Mrs. Beeler won for the women and Mr. George Arthur for the men.  Next came a trap shooting contest and horse racing. 

The evening went as follows:

“After the sports were over the time was pleasantly spent until the shades of evening fell, when there was a grand display of fireworks.  These over the crowd assembled at the library and danced the hours away to excellent music.”

I wonder if they worried about starting wildfires with fireworks?  What would they think of our Poker Walk and Lip Sync Contest?  Times have certainly changed.  But, I hope that the people who called Carlin home many years ago and the people who call it home today remember that 56 men from different places, backgrounds, and beliefs were willing to compromise so they could do something that we would still celebrate today. 

Sources:

1870 – Elko Independent: June 25, 1870

1901 – Elko Weekly Independent:  July 5, 1901

The following is an article by Fran Thiercof.  It originally appeared in The Carlin Express newspaper. It is being reprinted here with permission from the editor-in-chief, Ruth Hart. 

We sure used to go on a lot of picnics.  Church groups, lodge members, neighborhood friends, families, scouts and school groups. 

Arthur’s and the Canyon were great places to go, because the tall willows offered a little shade and there would be the river to play in or keep food colder, and there was room for a ball game.  When the freeway was routed through the Canyon, the topography was drastically changed.  It’s hard to imagine a picnic next to the River now.  The road bed is much higher than it used to be and cuts straight through, rather than following the curve of the Canyon, and of course, no access to the River.  Arthur’s is now Chinese Gardens and the willows are not as big as they were.

We used to have picnics at Palmer Dam and swim below the Dam.  For years, it was a summer thing to have at least one “watermelon bust” at Palmer.  These were High School Days.  The boys would collect tires to burn, the smoke detracted the mosquitos.  One or two of the boys who worked on the railroad would scout for an open refrigerator car carrying watermelons to the west coast, when they found one, they’d take out a melon and take it down to Palmer and stash it in the River.  Often seals were broken to check on the car’s contents for Spoilage or temperature, but it was generally illegal to cut the seals. 

That evening we’d gather at Palmer with hotdogs, buns, and marshmallows, all the good stuff, build a fire, swim, and eat.  The watermelons would be the last thing and it was always the best one of the season. 

At least 20 years later, a group of us were having dinner together in reno and we were remembering and laughing about all the crazy things we used to do.  One of them told us his dad used to leave one of the reefers, refrigerator cars, open for us, so we wouldn’t be tempted to cut one of the seals.  All those years we thought we were really getting away with something!

In High School we had to earn points to get our Letter Sweater.  That is, the girls did.

The boys had to be on Varsity, etc. to get theirs.  The girls, however, didn’t have a team for anything.  I don’t remember ever playing outside school, but we had a lot of intramural games.  So to make points for our sweaters we hiked, and played as many sports as we could, and didn’t miss any gym days. 

Five or six of us would hike to the Hole in the Wall, about five miles then, and giggle all the way.  But it was a good way to earn points. 

The “C” was a Freshman chore, but there were so few of us that usually, it was the entire student body which showed up to paint the C.  It was an all day affair, but again, we got G.A.A. points for participation.  I still have my C sweater in my cedar chest.

Our three kids went to Covina High School in southern California and guess what their colors were?  You betcha, red and white!  Both of the girls were cheer leaders and wore my C sweater as proudly as I did.

Another place where we did a lot of walking was down to the Iron Bridge and back, and to the ice houses.  We had a little ice every day during the summer.  That was one of my chores to earn my $.25 cent a week allowance.  I pulled a wagon to carry the ice and when I was 12, I got a bike with a basket and that was fun, too.  Can you believe that quarter enabled me to see two movies a week?

There used to be a road that took off the Tuscarora Road on the left as you head toward Newmont Mine.  It circled north around Carlin and came in a little north of where the Chinese Gardens are now.  I’ve looked for it, but with the mine road and freeway, it has disappeared.  Alberta Brown and I used to walk that a lot and solve all the problems of the world.  She visited us this past spring and we giggled again, remembering. 

The community of Carlin was born with the construction of the transcontinental railroad by the Central Pacific Railroad Company in 1868.  The railroad christened the new community Carlin in honor of William Passmore Carlin, a general who served during the Civil War.   Prior to the arrival of the railroad, non-natives shared the area with the Shoshone, native inhabitants who practiced a hunter-gatherer lifestyle.  After the railroad was built, Carlin prospered because of abundant water sources.  The Humboldt River, several creeks, and natural springs meant the area was an ideal location for keeping a railroad running.  The Central Pacific Railroad made Carlin the eastern terminus of the Humboldt Division.  A town site was laid out and construction began.  The railroad built a rail yard with a 16-stall roundhouse, turntable, machine shops, freight house, passenger depot, and housing.  By 1869, a United States post office and a school district were formed. 

Carlin quickly became an important community in Elko County and the state of Nevada.  It was the first established town in Elko County and boasted the only public library in the state.  Carlin also served as a hub for various stage lines that connected remote communities with the railroad.  The railroad industry attracted a variety of foreign residents, including Chinese and Italians, thus creating a diverse population.  The Chinese helped to build the railroad from which Carlin was born.  The Italians and Chinese built a thriving business community that consisted of restaurants, groceries, dry goods, and other essential services.

The railroad continued to be the focal point of Carlin into the mid-20^th century.  The railyard evolved and expanded to meet the needs of a changing industry.  Carlin’s abundant sources of water again contributed to the community’s future when one of the largest ice harvesting complexes on the West coast was built in Carlin in the early 1900s.  The decline of the railroad began with the replacement of steam engines with those powered by diesel and the introduction of refrigerated railroad cars in the 1940s.  The machine shops, roundhouse, and ice ponds were no longer needed. Passenger traffic on the railroad also declined with the emergence of automobiles as the preferred mode of transportation.  The Southern Pacific Railroad continued to employ a large number of local workers into the 1960s.  Today, almost all traces of the railroad industry in Carlin are gone but the tracks still run through the heart of the town. 

Fortuitously, a new industry emerged in the 1960s.  Newmont Gold Mining Company discovered a large deposit of microscopic gold just north of Carlin and new processing methods made the production of this type of deposit profitable.  The mining industry is to this day the primary industry of Carlin and other nearby communities.  The governance of the community was initially managed primarily by the railroad and prominent members of the community.  Eventually, the needs of the community outstripped the railroad’s ability to meet them.  Carlin adopted its first town charter in 1925 and was officially incorporated in 1971.  A gas light power plant was constructed in 1924, a water and sewer system was installed in 1934, and streets were paved by 1940.  Today, seven city departments, three boards, and a five-person City Council direct the future of a community with a significant and colorful past.

The following is an article by Fran Thiercof.  It originally appeared in The Carlin Express newspaper on Wednesday, June 30, 1999.  It is being reprinted here with permission from the editor-in-chief, Ruth Hart. The Kenyon Hotel still sits on Camp Street between 5th and 6th Street and is an apartment building today. Today it is called the Oak Street Apartments.

Across the street to the west of us, was another hotel for railroad men called the Kenyon.  This was owned and operated by Mr. and Mrs. Renz Doxey.  They were good friends of my folks and as far as I know, no competition existed between the two.  Each had their own clientele.

Mr. Doxey was the town clerk and almost rant the place single-handedly, although there was a Town Board. 

I don’t know who the previous owners of the Kenyon were, but when the Doxeys bought it and moved in, we (one of the Southside kids) acquired a new member.

Our gang, south of the S.P. tracks consisted of Raymond Aiazzi, Enzo and Elia Bianucci, Laurence Willison, Martin Richard, and Marian Piccinini and my sister, Donna, and I.  It took a awhile for Loren and Gordon Doxey to fit into our group.

We had rubber gun wars all summer.  The guns were made from a piece of wood cut to resemble the shape of a gun, with a handle.  A clothespin was attached behind the handle and acted as a trigger.  An old automobile inner tube was cut to circular strips about ½ inch wide for ammo.  The rubber strip was inserted into the clothespin and stretched to the end of the barrel and when you pressed the clothespin it went flying.  If you hit what you aimed at it was purely coincidental.  We had to fall down and be dead though if we were to get hit, and I can still hear the arguments going on about who was dead and who wasn’t. 

My sister and I had to be in the house by 9 p.m. on summer nights.  It was awful to be in a good hiding spot and about to score in “Run Sheep Run”, and have my dad come out and whistled us in.  We’d have to go, there was no question, but then everybody had to go by then. 

Another thing we liked to do was bake a potato.  Doesn’t that sound exciting? Ha.  It was fun though.  On the corner of 6^th and Camp was a vacant lot, there’s a house there now, but for a long time, it was a hole in the ground where a cellar had been.  Most of the above mentioned kids would build a small fire in the hole and let it go down to ashes, and we’d bury a potato or two in the ashes, cover it with dirt and go play a game, and come back in an hour or so and dig them out of the dirt, brush them off and cut them up to share and did they ever taste good.

We used to love to tell ghost stories, sitting under the arc light at the above mentioned corner. 

I was one of the gang.  I had my own rubber gun.  I still can see the scar on my left thumb where the knife slipped while carving out the handle.  It wasn’t until I began to “date” a young man from the “other” side of town that I became a girl.

Behind the Kenyon hotel and where Rev. Inzer’s home is now, is where our High School basketball stars of the late ‘40s made some of the best shots.  They were Laurence Willison, Enzo Bianucci, Raymond Aiazzi, Loren Doxey, Eugene Fong, and later, Hank Chavez.  They were a good team and beat Elko on one occasion.  That was quite a fete considering that Elko was an “A” team and Carlin a “B”.  This classification was done according to school size.  If I remember correctly, Carlin only had five boys to put on the floor.  Luckily no substitutions had to be made.