St. Thomas Alive Day

March 3rd 2012 was the St. Thomas Alive celebration. The community came together and contributed to help bring St. Thomas history come alive for a day at the historic town site.

The opening ceremony was started off with a posting of our nations color, a hymn Come Come Ye Saints, sung by attendee's led by Robin Maughn and organ played by Connie Whitney, (this was the same organ that was played in the 1965 celebration), a prayer by Donald Whitney and opening remarks by President Mathew Messer.

Many historical drama's were performed at the foundations of the St. Thomas School house bringing to life different events that took place in St. Thomas and people who lived there.

Entertainment was also provided between plays by local residents of the Moapa Valley

Scenes from Ron Dalley's play, One For The Muddy were also performed at the St Thomas School House that depicted different events that took place in this early pioneer settlement. The above picture is when the Lincoln County Tax Collector told the residents to pay their taxes or get out. It was not well received

Other scenes from plays depicting the harsh realities of settlement in the desert

A Senatorial commendation from Senator Heller was presented to the Logandale Nevada Stake, Partners In Conservation (PIC) and the Park Service.

The Maypole was also braided down at St. Thomas. A tradition which began in St. Thomas and is still carried out by the school children in Moapa Valley in the May Day Dances.

A view of some of the attendee's at the St. Thomas Alive celebration

Many of the participants in the days events wore period dress adding to the historic setting at St. Thomas

The event closed with remarks by Logan Call, a descendant of Anson Call the namesake of Callville, remarks by Susan Whipple, a descendant of the pioneers who lived and settled in St. Thomas, the hymn God Be With You Till We Meet Again, and a prayer by Berkley Marshall.

Till we meet again

St Thomas Mill

Mining was an integral part of the economy of St. Thomas. Gold, silver, copper and other precious minerals were shipped in from all the surrounding mining camps. Silica sand however was also an important resource that helped this economy grow and is still a part of the community today.

   

The St. Thomas spur once ran all the way down to the town of St. Thomas. With the times most technologically advanced mode of transporting freight, mining began to flourish in this community. However the tracks were pulled up with the advancing waters of the newly created Lake Mead. The terminus of the St. Thomas railroad was now roughly five miles north at what is today the Simplot sand mine.

The remnants of the old sand mill can be seen as the water of Lake Mead have receded and have exposed the foundations of this once growing  mining operation.

Traces of the silica sand can still be found in the old bins of the sand mine operation

Albert Frehner Home

This is the foundations of the Albert Frehner home in St Thomas

Railroad & Mining at St. Thomas

Railroad and St. Thomas

On June 7^th, 1912 the Union Pacific Railroad connected a spur off of the Los Angeles & Salt Lake line down to the town of St Thomas. The rail line provided the main means for transporting goods including ore and agricultural commodities as well as providing another means of transportation for people during this time. This was a busy time in this frontier town.

Mining Around St. Thomas

With a railroad spur right into the town of St. Thomas the ability to transport goods and materials was modernized with the time periods main means of large scale transportation. The extension of the railroad into St. Thomas allowed for other economic opportunities to develop and expand within the region.

Gold Butte, Savanic, and Grand Gulch were only a few of the mining interests that greatly benefited from the rail access. The railroad provided a streamlined means of transporting ore to the mills. Prior to this extension all the ore had to be shipped even greater distance by team and wagon.  It provided not only faster delivery but also provided access into a larger market network.

During the First World War the price of copper rose greatly. This contributed to the excitement and development of this region as mining prospects developed to help supplement this need.  St. Thomas was the hub for most of these activities providing a means to transport supplies and ore for these mining camps.

Before the waters covered the railroad going down to St. Thomas the tracks were pulled up and the terminus of the St Thomas line was now, at what is today Simplot.

Schedule for the Day's Events

10:00  Opening Ceremony at School House

            -Opening Song: Come Come Ye Saints

            -Invocation: President Donald Whitney

            -Remarks: President Matthew Messer

10:10  Ruth Chadburn Drama

10:20  Vicki Willard

10:30  Marva Rae Perkins Sprague Drama

10:40  Zila Johnson

10:50  One for the Muddy Drama

11:20  Bill Bunker

11:30  Emmiline Huntsman Drama

11:40  Nelson Family

11:50  Berkley Lloyd Bunker Drama

12:15  Moapa Tribal Performance

12:30  Braid the Maypole

1:00    Welcome Youth Conference

1:10    Ruth Chadburn Drama

1:20    Ken Marshall

1:30    Marva Rae Perkins Sprague Drama

1:40    Song by Youth

1:50    One for the Muddy Drama

2:20    Song by Youth

2:30    Emmiline Huntsman Drama

2:40    Nelson Family

2:50    Berkley Lloyd Bunker Drama

3:00    Closing Ceremony at School House

             -Remarks: Logan Call

             -Remarks: Susan Whipple

             -Song: God Be With You Till We Meet Again

             -Benediction: Bishop Berkley Marshall

Alive in Our Communities Today

St. Thomas, Nevada was an early pioneer settlement in what was originally believed to be the Utah Territory. This early Mormon village was settled near the confluence of the Virgin River, whose source flows from Southern Utah and the Muddy River whose waters flow from the warm springs in upper Moapa just north of the Old Spanish Trail. The water of these two rivers then joins the Colorado River, a meandering 24 miles to the south. The early years of St. Thomas were that of hardship for those early settlers. Yet, in spite of the hardship over time the settlement and exploration of the area expanded from the original settlement. Farming, Mining, ranching and the other economic and business activities that followed the early settlement period took root in the hills and valleys of this blossoming desert.

In the late 19th century and early 20th century St. Thomas was the hub for most all activities in the general area. It provided the goods and services to the farmers, ranchers, miners, townsfolk and weary traveler. Due to its location and differing modes of early transportation and routes, St. Thomas was also the main hub for most types of early travel. It was a stop along the way on the Arrowhead trail that connected Los Angeles and Salt Lake for the emerging automobile traffic. St. Thomas had a spur off the Los Angeles & Salt Lake Rail Road which provided the main means for transporting goods including ore and agricultural commodities which was vital to this budding landscape. St. Thomas was not far from the Old Spanish Trail which traversed much of the western territory. It also provided another means for the shipping of goods by ferry due to the close proximity of St. Thomas to the Colorado River.

The history and stories of St. Thomas are full of character, cultural milestones, and pioneer heritage which are still alive in our communities today. Though the chapter of St. Thomas in our history books may have seemed to draw to a close in the late 1930’s as the waters of the monumental reclamation project that was the Boulder Dam covered this once blossoming town, its legacy and cultural values are alive and well in the towns and villages where its descendants still reside.

Please join us on March 3rd, 2012 at St. Thomas for a community celebration as we bring this historic town alive for a day. We will have many of the descendants of those early pioneers as well as those who remember visiting St. Thomas there to reconnect. There will be music and dramatizations of the early days being performed live, where they would have been performed then, at the old St. Thomas School. There will be maps and displays as well as pictures taken in the early days displayed where they were taken to help visualize the then, now. If you have history or stories please contact me so we can share and make the most of your stories to help bring St. Thomas alive.

As parking space is limited, and a four-wheel drive is required, if you plan to attend please carpool with your neighbors so we can have room for as many as want to attend.

Finding St. Thomas

The following are general directions on how to find the town site of St. Thomas. If you are going here for the first time please have a good map and be prepared for the adventure. A spare tire, water and thick soled boots are a must and knowing where you are going, with the help of a map, helps.

Head south out of Overton, Nevada on Highway 169. (shortly out of Overton it turns into Northshore Road)
Drive past the Lost City Museum.
Continue driving past the turn off to Valley of Fire State Park turn off.
Shortly after the Valley of Fire turn off you will see the Park Service Toll booth.
The turn to St. Thomas is directly after the toll booth heading east.
From here it is dirt road, somewhat maintained by the park service.
Drive roughly 3.5 miles down the dirt and you will arrive at the parking area.
From here it is hiking

From the parking area to the top of main street at St. Thomas the trail is roughly 0.62 miles

From the top of main street it is up to you to see how much you want to see and how much you want to hike and fight the overgrowth. Please take the time and read the Watch Your Step post. Some of the foundations on Main Street of St. Thomas have been cut back for better accessibility but the stumps of the cut off tamarisk bushes pose somewhat of a hazard.

Above is Roxton Whitmores home on Main Street St. Thomas

The most accessible part of St. Thomas is from the top of Main Street roughly at Roxton's home down to the St. Thomas School house. From the school house you can go south to the Gentry Hotel site and loop back into the main hiking trail.

View Larger Map

Martin Bunker Home Site

This is the Martin Bunker Home site. It sits just south of the old St. Thomas School house. The foundations and the cistern as site visible 

The black and white photo can be found at the UNLV special collections libarary. It is a photo of the water first coming into St. Thomas in 1938

Traces of St. Thomas

Top of Main Street

This is a photo taken at the top of main street at St. Thomas looking East. The house to the right is Roxton Whitmore's home. To the left, you can just barely see the front part of the foundation of Albert Frehner's home.  The stumps of the once many trees that shaded St. Thomas are a dominant feature of this deserted desert town.

 

Watching Your Step

St. Thomas has been over run by the tamarisk bushes. There has been an effort to cut some of them back to reveal some of the foundations however the stubs of bushes pose somewhat of a hazard if you are not outfitted with a good pair of boots and watching where you step.

St. Thomas Alive

The Moapa Valley Progress has written an article about the St. Thomas 2012 Alive project that many people in the community are working to put together. Please read the article an send an email to either stthomasalive@gmail.com or savegoldbutte@gmail.com to help with this event:

http://mvprogress.com/2012/02/01/m-v-residents-sought-to-help-stage-%E2%80%9Cst-thomas-alive%E2%80%9D-event/

View of St. Thomas

This is a picture of St. Thomas taken from the parking area. The strip with the weeds cut back is main street.  As you can see the waters are approaching once again.

St. Thomas Reflections

by Ruth Chadburn Calland
September 16, 1986

Dedicated to sister Fay on her Sixty-fifth Wedding Anniversary

We were decending the hills east of St. Thomas when my father pointed to the south and said, "See those two houses down there. How would you like to live in one of those?" Looking out of the wagon, I saw a couple of two-story houses surrounded by green fields and trees. As the wagon turned with the twisting road, I saw more houses and green fields and trees. There was one big square building that looked gray. That turned out to be the school.

The year was 1916. Our family was on a vacation to explore the virtues of the Moapa Valley. We had heard the climate was mild and the schools were good. We were living at the base of the Pine Valley Mountain in southern Utah and attending a one-room school. At that time I had six siblings, Jetta, Floyd and Fay were older and Louis, Dora and Mildred were younger. My father was Robert Henry Chadburn and my mother was Dinah Ann Hunt Chadburn.

We were traveling in a covered wagon. Had a good team of horses and plenty of hay. It was stashed on the floor of the wagon, covered by a tarpaulin and bedding. That is where we kids rode. Mom sat on the spring seat with dad. With a full grubbbox and a barrel of water strapped to the side of the wagon, we could camp any place Dad deemed fit.

While in the valley, I remember camping in a grove of trees and learning later we had trespassed on the grave of the town's namesake, Mrs. Logan. We found all the people friendly and we liked everything we saw. We returned home to the snow and ice with a desire to move to the Moapa Valley.

The following year, 1917, we sold our home in Central, Utah and headed back to the Moapa Valley to plant our roots. Our caravan caused a bit of consternation as we passed through the small towns. Dad drove the wagon with the household goods, Mom drove the wagon with the supplies and kids. Floyd followed on old "Dixie" the saddle horse and drove the cows with help from our dog. I think his name was Tip.

After several weary days and cold nights, sleeping on the ground, we reached the Virgin River. A flood had washed the bridge out and the water was pretty high. The County had hired a man with a team of horses to help vehicles across. The man, Rhiner Hannig, turned out to be a friend of Dad's. He told us the Foxley place in St. Thomas was for sale. He also gave us permission to use a tent-house they had just moved out of. He said they had put up a new building with a store in front and living quarters in back. We felt like w had just struck gold.

The next morning, after washing off the grime, we started for the Foxley place. It was quite the sight to see the whole family marching down the street. We turned the corner and went south, passed the school, Bunkers, Whitmores, Westovers, Strassers, Guetzel's shack and Harry Gentrys. Of course, we didn't know who lived there then but it was fun to guess about the people who were following us with their eyes. We crossed the bridge over the ditch and on south to the last place on the left. The Foxley place turned out to be one of the placed Dad had pointed to the year before. Harry Gentry lived in the other.

After looking at some property in Overton we went back and bought the Foxley place. They were moving to Salt Lake and didn't want to leave until later in the spring. So, we cleaned out the granery and camped there for two months. Dad went to work on the farm and we kids started school.

Mary Syphus was my teacher. I liked her a lot. She let me take books home to read and she promoted me to the fourth grade. I remember one day when the school was locked, the Frehner twins, Edith and Ethel, boosted me through the window to get a book they wanted. When I came back with the right one and they helped me down, I felt so proud I almost popped my buttons.

Finally the big day arrived. We put the Foxleys on the train and rushed home to move in. We bought the Foxley furniture too and we kids went through that house like a swarm of locust. First we pulled the footrests out on the two Morris chairs and let the backs down so we could lie out flat. Then we attacked the dresser with the long mirror, pulling out the drawers and opening the door to the top compartments that later became the hiding place for our creams and beauty aids.

fat and I did the upstairs together. In a hole in the wall in the back of the only closet in the house, we found a one-eyed doll. We named her Mary, after the Foxley's daughter. We had a few quarrels over who found her and who owned her but Fay soon gave up. She was leaving the doll stage and going in to the boy stage.

There was one piece of furniture, we named the "Queen Ann", that we couldn't have lived without. It was a folding bed that we moved into the dining room to catch the overflow. When it was closed it looked like a beautiful piece of furniture. At the top it had two mirrored doors that swung open and revealed all kinds of keepsakes and trash. It was there you would find all the current mailorder catalogs and old letters. You might even find a lost ball or treasured half-eaten candy animal. It wasn't long before Floyd was using the top of it for his gun cabinet. It was handy and high, out of reach of the little kids.

Soon Birdie Bunker and I were bosom companions. We raised a war garden at her place. We would harvest the crops and sell them to Sister Gentry at the back door of the hotel. With the money we purchased government thrift stamps to help the war effort.

Another patriotic service we performed was gleaning the fields for grain. Many a morning we left the house at six with our grain sacks. One would carry lunch in a lard bucket and the other the canvas water sack. When we arrived at the field, we would hang the water sack on a limb of a tree and let it swing in the breeze while we worked. To this day when I smell sardines it brings back memories of those delightful days --- sitting under a tree with sweaty bodies, full grain sacks and savoring every bite of a sardine sandwich and drinking the deliciously cool water from the water sack.

In 1918, when I was eleven years old, the first World War came to a close. The boys started coming home from France. We were thankful and happy when Uncle George, Dad's youngest brother, arrived for a visit. Both Grandpa and Grandma Chadburn had passed away while he was over seas. The family seemed to think that Grandma died of a broken heart because her baby was shipped to France soon after entering the service. Grandpa followed a few months later. He couldn't live without her.

When Bryan Bunker arrived home, the dreaded "flu" bug of 1918 came with him. He was very sick. The whole town was up tight. The schools were closed and we were all quarantined in our homes. Those who had to go out for food or on necessary errands had to wear masks.

My mother was pregnant with Verna at the time. We had to be very protective of her. None of us kids were allowed off our property. Floyd and I took the opportunity to roam the fields and trap quail. He made some figure four traps and a big wire cage. We would set the traps with grain under them. The quail would feast on the grain, hit the trigger and the trap would fall on them. We would then transport the quail in sacks to the wire cage at home. We feasted on quail all that winter. It sounds horrible to me now but then there were so many quail they were eating the grain as fast as the farmers would plant it.

Another thing we did to amuse ourselves was pick up shotgun shells and use them as soldiers and play war. We used marbles for guns.

All during this period I was mad at Fay. She thought she was too big to play with me. She was going out with boys. One evening while standing at the front door saying good-night to either Ozzie Gentry or Harvey Frehner, I've forgotten which, I threw the cat at her. The poor cat was frightened and put out it's claws to hold on. It clawed right into her arm and made a big bloody gash. I thought she would kill me but she acted grown up and pretended it was nothing. That cured me. I help my temper in check after that.

February 1919, Dad took Mom to St. George to have her baby. Fay went along to help. Jetta was left in charge of things at home. On my way home from school one day, Rhiner Hannig passed me going as fast as his team would travel. They were covered with lather and I wondered what was up. It didn't take long to find out. He had gone to the Colorado River to pick up a couple of prospectors. When he got to their camp he found both of them shot, stripped of their clothes and all their supplies gone.

The town was alive and buzzing with stories about a renegade Indian named Quio who lived on the Colorado. Two weeks before, he was blamed for robbing and killing a man in Searchlight, a little mining town not far from the river. There were so many stories going around that we were all nervous and jumpy.

One night after supper we were all huddled around the heating stove, getting our lessons and fussing with each other when Floyd jumped up and exclaimed, "For God sake, all you get on the floor!" Then he ran to the "Queen Ann" and grabbed his shotgun and raced to the back porch. We heard three shots. We were scared to death, thinking Quio would bound through the front door any minute.

When Floyd came back into the house, he was ashen and shaking all over. He said he had seen a man's ugly face peering through the window. When he got to the back porch the man was running through the plowed ground toward the lane gate and disappeared in the shrubbery. We were all sure it was Quio and that he would come back. I was all for getting out there but Floyd and Jetta thought we should get the constable.

It was a bright moonlight night and you could see pretty well but the shadows were spooky and black. I didn't volunteer to go. In fact, I was told to shut up and go in the house and take care of the younger kids. Floyd tipped the wheelbarrow up on its handles in the middle of the lawn and sat in it facing the street with his gun ready. Jetta slipped out the front gate and scampered up the street.

It seemed she was gone for hours but she returned with Bert Strasser, the constable and Dick Arnold, his assistant. With flashlights they searched around the house. The found a wash bench had been taken from the back yard and put under the window where Floyd say the face.

Our house was built on a high foundation and I guess he wanted a better view. On the bench the found muddy footprints. They followed the footprints through the plowed ground but when they disappeared in to the high brush, the search ended. The next morning Harry Gentry said he was watering that night and he heard someone in his corn field rustling the stocks as he ran through but he never saw anyone.

That is all we ever heard regarding our strange visitor. So, after sleeping at the Strassers a few nights we returned home to sleep and fret until the folks returned.

Then a drunken Indian by the name of Tom Rice came to town and tried to make love to Mrs. Arnold. That ended up with a shoot-out in the street. The bullets flew but no one got hurt. The Indian got in his card and hightailed it out of town. The posse followed him to the Virgin River. After a few potshots from across the river they let him go. That night the Strassers slept at our house because who knows what a drunken Inden will do.

It was in the summer time and very hot. We all slept outside. After going to bed that night we heard the front gate open. We all popped up in our beds. Mr. Strasser reached for his gun. Just then Brother Whitney called out, "Brother Chadburn?" He had traveled from him ranch in the cool of the evening and wanted to see my father about something. He said Tom Rice was bedded down at one of the springs and seemed perfectly harmless.

Well, it wasn't long before I was going through that phase I thought so disgusting in Fay --- liking boys. I would run my heart out to tag Vernon Bunker in a game of last couple out. In fact, Fay and I had become good buddies again. I was invited to dance by the big boys when the Victorola was rolled out to the front porch on a summer evening. Some of those old tunes --- "Three O'Clock in the Morning", "Isle of Golden Dreams" and "Valencia" still run through my head. we would become drenched by perspiration and then cooled by a gentle zephyr.

It wasn't long before Vernon and I became an item. Birdie and Reed Whipple were our best friends. We did lots of crazy things. fay had married Reuben Whipple by then and they lived at the Experiment Farm. That old house lent itself to our pranks --- water fights, ghost stories and we had a haunted house Halloween party there. Looking back, I don't know how they put up with us. That first love is so glorious and so painful!

By the time I graduated from high school in 1925, Vernon had been working in a bank in Las Vegas for two years. The romantic sparks had dimmed. I was working at the Gentry Hotel weekends and after school. One day while scrubbing sheetsbut under the old water tank, Laura approached me and said she was going to summer school in Berkeley, California. She had rented an apartment and was going to take her niece, Rebecca, with her. She wanted me to go as a companion for Becky while she was in school. All it would cost me would be my spending money.

From that trip I gained a lot of worldly experience and a desire to go on to school. But most of all I gained a true friend --- Laura. She was a real entrepreneur. I rode the range with her, sat on a fence and watched her sheep being counted, helped do some assessment work on a mining claim. But the most fun was visiting Bill Garrett and Art Colman at Gold Butte. That story must come later...