By 1900, Standish Colony was not developing the way the founders envisioned. However, Buntingville merchant, Mike Phillips, from across the valley saw potential at Standish. He closed up shop there and moved to Standish.
Phillips first order of business was to open a store at Standish. Then he became the principal figure to organize the Standish Creamery. That was followed by building the town’s first hotel. When Phillips was at Buntingville he established a newspaper Buntingville Breezes. In 1903, he made an unsuccessful attempt to establish a newspaper at Standish.
In 1904, for reasons unknown, he sold his Standish properties. A.E. & Harriet Torrey bought the hotel. It should be noted that Harriet was Standish first postmaster. The creamery and store was sold to Susanville businessman Charles Emerson. Phillips relocated to Reno Nevada and never heard from again.
Partial map of Lassen-Willow Creek Water Company’s proposed project. Courtesy of Betty Barry Deal
During the early 1900s, it appeared any attempt to tap Eagle Lake for irrigation were doomed, since previous proposals over water rights etc were being litigated. On the other hand, it did not stop entrepreneurs who dreamed there was incredible wealth to be mde to deliver that water supply.
Enter Lassen Willow Creek Water Company, (LWC) formed in 1905, and its composition of the company were well known locals—Ben Leavitt, W.H. Earl, Charles Emerson, James Elledge and B.F. Gibson. Before they formed, they knew they had a competitor, A.F. Dixon who had filed for tunnel and water rights on December 8, 1904. One of LWC’s obstacles was to obtain a tunnel right-of-way from the Government Land Office to bypass Dixon’s claim. The Company pronounced Eagle Lake as a reservoir and filed for water rights to every tributary and excess flood waters of Susan River. They declared that this water being held in the lake as a storage reservoir.
This ingenious method of LWC to obtain the necessary right-of-way across public land was not to be resolved so easily. The LWC’s application for the tunnel right-of-way was rejected by the Government Land Office, as Dixon’s application had first priority. The Land Office wrote in its decision, “This office is of the opinion that it was never intended that a natural lake which is already a source of water supply. should be appropriated as a reservoir site.” The Land Office gave the LWC sixty days to appeal their decision.
A month later, the LWC filed a new tunnel right-of-way with the Land Office. They called it the Pine Creek Outlet Tunnel. Ultimately, the LWC decided to bypass the Land Office. They relocated their tunnel site, just north of Dixon. They secured the lands owned by the Cartwright Brothers. By mid-April 1906, shafts were being drilled and work was being prepared on the tunnel’s entrance and outlet.
It appears LWC was making great progress. In June 1906 the company announced it had signed a contract with the Granite Rock Company to construct the mile-long tunnel. It was estimated to cost $500,000 and everything came to halt since LWC did not have the funds. LWC’s demise occurred on June 7, 1910 when it sold its records and surveying equipment to E.N. Prouty for $900.
Once upon a time there was an old saying “boys will be boys.” I am not if that is case today with youngsters growing up in the digital age.
The Red River Lumber Company’s Westwood millpond was a scene of several tragedies. The millpond separated the communities of Old Town and Westwood. Old Town designated as such, for it was where everyone resided while the mill and town of Westwood was being constructed. A foot bridge was constructed across the millpond allowing those from Old Town easy access to Westwood.
On Friday afternoon, October 1, 1926, 17-year-old Westwood High School student, Jose Nunez, was returning home in Old Town with other school companions. While crossing the footbridge someone in the group suggested they play “Follow the leader.” Nunez was selected leader. He decided to jump off the footbridge and onto a
log, which rolled and he fell into the water. Nunez was pinned
underneath the logs unable to surface. When he did not immediately
reappear, two of his friends dived into the water, but were unable to
locate him. In the meantime, the call of help was made. Nunez’s body
by this time had been submerged for nearly fifteen minutes. It was
only with the aid of pike poles his body was located and pulled out of
the water. A doctor was present and attempted every means to
resuscitate him, but it was too late.
Today, something on a lighter note, though the issue was a serious one. A century ago, the City leaders were a progressive lot. One item they sought was to have paved streets and sidewalks. This was an expensive proposition, and would be paid by a special tax assessment on the property owners. Of course, not every one was thrilled. However, one clever resident suggested that Susanville adopt the City of Redding’s policy of imposing heavy fines on speeders. A speeding ticket in that City cost $10. Since speeding was a problem in Susanville, the collection of hefty fines could easily pay for the sidewalks!
Its been nearly a half a century since the Mapes family sold their well known ranch located east of Litchfield to the Five Dot Land & Cattle Company. Like the Dodge Ranch on the Madeline Plains, the Mapes Ranch still retains its name, even though no longer owed by the family.
Mapes Ranch, with Shaffer Mountain in the background, 1906. Left to Right: James Riley, John Conlan, James Mapes and Charlie the blacksmith. Courtesy of Madelyn Mapes Dahlstrom
The ranch’s early history is interesting, once owned by the Shaffer Brothers in the 1860s—hence the origin of the name Shaffer Mountain. For a time it was owned by John D. Kelley and Hiram Winchell. Dissolving their partnership was a bitter dispute that required litigation in the Lassen County Superior Court. On June 30, 1885 the ranch was sold at public auction. It was purchased by Sierra Valley rancher, George W. Mapes for$11,000. The sale included all the livestock and farming equipment.
George hired his brother, Ira C. Mapes to manage the ranch. George was involved in a variety. of affairs including the Washoe County Bank. When the 1893 financial crisis hit, to protect his interest he transferred the Honey Lake property to Ira. It would take years for the economy to recover and in the meantime Ira passed away. Ira’s family refused to deed back the ranch to George. End of story.
For some time I have been corresponding with a former resident, who also happens to be a rail fan. Timing can be everything, and he just happened at the Westwood Depot on the last day it operated. So I am working on this story. However, not to leave anything to chance, if there is any one out there that may know something on this topic, I would like to hear from you.
Doctor Deacon’s dentist bill for the Emerson family 1903-04
Believe it or not, over a century ago many professional occupations such as dentist, doctors and lawyers struggled financially. While compiling the history of the northern California operations of Fruit Growers Supply Company, I met Tom Gilfoy who illustrated that aspect, In 1950-51, Tom attended Lassen Junior College. He would spend the next two summers working in woods for Fruit Growers Supply Company. He said he made more money during those summers, than he did his first few years as an attorney.
Anyhow, when I had request for information on the Emerson Ditch, I knew it would require sorting through the Emerson files in my archive. While I did locate information on the ditch, I found an assortment of interesting documents.
Dr. A.P. Deacon was a Susanville dentist in the early 1900s. His office was located on the first floor of the Lassen Street side in the Emerson Hotel. Like his fellow predecessor, Dr.J.G. Leonard, whose home would later become the Elks Lodge struggled with patients for payment of services rendered. This had a ripple effect wherein Deacon fell behind on his rent payments with C.E. Emerson. In 1904, he moved his practice to Willows, California and the prospects there were not any better. Unable to make a payment to Emerson, on August 31, 1905, Deacon wrote this letter;
”Friend Charley – Tomorrow is the date that the first of my notes [promissory] is due, but I am very sorry to say that I am unable to pay it at present. I will, however, send you whatever amount I can spare each month, until I am out of your debt. Thank you very much for your opinion of me, if some of the people up there would make an effort to pay me that I do to pay my bills, we would all get along much better. I have the highest regard for Dr. Dozier as a man could be, of course he had his faults, but then none of us are perfect, and I sincerely hope that he has cut out the booze and his former type of companions, and is doing well. Everything is quiet here, but the prospects are good. “
Charles Thomas Emerson (1836-1917) led a colorful life. In 1859, the Missouri native, along with Colburn Brown arrived in the Honey Lake Valley and claimed some 1200 acres in what was known as the Tule District. While residing there, he earned the nickname “Tule”. 1862 was a pivotal year for him. His partner, Brown, returned East to fight in the Civil War, who would become a casualty the following year. Emerson that year purchased a combine mower and thrasher one of the first in the Honey Lake Valley. He named his place the Eureka Ranch, but seasoned residents will know it as the former Gibson/Haley Ranch east of Litchfield. On March 29, 1865, Emerson filed for water rights and easement for an eight mile irrigation ditch, that he constructed that year.
Things change. The bachelor married divorcee Mrs. Sarah Laird on January 1, 1867. The following year, he mortgaged the ranch and built a hotel in Susanville on the northeast corner of Main and Lassen Streets (701 Main Street). In 1869, Emerson threw caution to the wind and set out for the booming mining camp of Pioche, Nevada, leaving behind his wife, and infant namesake son, Charles. It was a bust for him, but instead returning to his family in Susanville, he set his sights on Mexico. Of course, there were consequences for his actions. His wife was granted a divorce on the grounds of desertion, and he lost his ranch by default for non-payment of the mortgage.
After Mexico, he was off to South America. Then he would spend an additional twenty years exploring the South Pacific. It is interesting to note, he never forgot about his son, whom he deserted as an infant. From time to time he would send boxes of sea shells and other trinkets from his travels. In 1902, Emerson had gathered such a notoriety that that the San Francisco Examiner devoted a full page about his exploits.
Time takes its toll and Emerson was no exception. In 1913, he returned to Susanville to spend his twilight years with his son, whom he only met twice as an adult.
Dry farming was slow to make its appearance around these parts. It slowly began in the early 1900s and timing could not have been better. The area was in a very wet cycle that lasted through 1916. The following is a 1911 account of dry farming in Lassen County.
”While much of the farming of the county is done dry, which is to say without irrigation, there is very little scientific dry farming. Indeed, it is all but unknown. However, a beginning has been made, in a few small farms in Honey Lake Valley, and in the Madeline Plains, where may be seen the most substantial evidence that it is profitable. Those who are interested in this form of farming may learn something to their profit by communicating with Mr. Isaac Metcalf, whose address is Termo, Lassen County. Two years ago, Mr. Metcalf lost his all by fire. Coming then to the Madeline Plains without even a team of horses, he began dry farming on 160 acres, practicing the Campbell system. The first year, he cut from forty acres of barley 761 sacks averaging 110 pounds each; and from eight acres of rye ninety-six sacks averaging 130 pounds each. The same year, he turned five sows and their pigs, thirty-nine in all, upon a piece. of alfalfa a little less than two acres in size, upon which they made their living until winter. Then he fed them about one hundred sacks of barley, following which he killed thirty-one of them, these bringing him 3,800 pounds of cured meat. Mr. Metcalf now has a comfortable and pretty residence, a fine barn and other appurtenances, and a small but thriving young orchard of apples, pears, plums prunes, quince and a few grapes. He has no land to sell, but those who. see his place will agree with him that a fair valuation of his possessions is $5,000, all of it accumulated by two years dry farming.”
Many years ago, I wrote a weekly historical column for the Lassen County Times. At that time, I contacted Eric Moody, who was researching Flanigan, and I asked him to write an article. He obliged and here it is.
Flanigan was to be the most important community in eastern and southern Honey Lake Valley, a major rail center, situated in the midst of a rich agricultural area, boasting hundreds, perhaps thousands of inhabitants.
At least that was the grandiose dream of Flanigan’s founders. In reality, the small town located five miles inside Nevada at the intersection of the Southern Pacific and Western Pacific tracks never boasted a population more than fifty and never became a center for much of anything.
The place did exist, though, for seventy years, 1909 to 1969, and its history isn’t as lacking in interest as its meager population would seem to indicate.
Flanigan first appeared in late 1909, when the Western Pacific Railroad built its main line through eastern Honey Lake Valley. By January of 1910 a Western Pacific station was in operation there. The station disappeared the next year, but in 1912-1913 the Southern Pacific built a branch line from Fernley, Nevada to Susanville and Westwood, and the new line passed that of the Western Pacific at Flanigan. Southern Pacific buildings were set up late in 1912, and the next year a station established.
With this, the time seemed ripe for promotion of the site. Two Oakland speculators, C.A. Ross and George Warnken, had a townsite laid out on land they owned just west of the Flanigan railroad intersection. Their projected community, taking the same name as the station, was to have thirty blocks with 900 lots, a school and a library.
Promotion of the new town began, with the principal “pitchman” being Paul Butler, a one-armed dynamo who had been hired by Ross and Warnken to be their agent at Flanigan. Scores of curious visitors were ushered around eastern Honey Lake Valley, and over 200 town lots were sold. By 1914 Flanigan boasted a post office, a general store, and a spacious forty room hotel—built and operated by Paul Butler, who confidently predicted that Flanigan was going to become a major rail center—another Roseville, or at least another Sparks.
Cabins on A Street, Flanigan, 1976–Christopher Moody
Unfortunately, Flanigan didn’t develop much more. Butler continued his promotional work into the mid-1920’s—even trying to drill for oil and developing a bog lime, or marl, deposit nearby, but even he finally gave up. In 1924 he sold his store to Orlando Gasperoni, then a Southern Pacific section foreman at Flanigan, and in 1926 the practically unused hotel was sold for its lumber and torn down.
Flanigan went on living, but its existence was quiet and relatively uneventful. There were some further attempts to drill for oil or gas and the marl deposit continued to be worked. The Bonham School (formerly located at the Bonham Ranch) opened its doors at Flanigan in 1929, and dances, which drew people from all over the area, were held in the school building. In 1934 Orlando Gasperoni sold the store to William and Gertrude Milne, who had come to Flanigan four years earlier when she had been hired to teach school.
The Milne Store, 1950s. Courtesy of Dorothy Carnahan.
It was not until the late 1950s that things at Flanigan really began to change—for the worse. In 1959 the Southern Pacific pulled out its section crews, and shortly after that the Western Pacific did the same. In 1961 the post office shut down. It had been located in the store, which had closed its doors in the middle 1950s.
Flanigan remained alive only because of the school, where a commuting teacher taught a handful of students, and Mrs. Milne’s continued residence at her home which was attached to the closed store.
The year 1969 saw the end of Flanigan. Early on the morning of January 2, while Mrs. Milne was away visiting at the Fish Springs Ranch, the store with her attached home, burned to the ground. And that summer the school, the last one-room school in Washoe County, was closed because of a lack of students. Mrs. Milne moved to Sutcliffe over at Pyramid Lake.
Today, there is not much to Flanigan to tell visitors that it was once the “coming city”, the projected metropolis of eastern Honey Lake Valley.
