I have a bunch of odds and ends to write about this week.
The first order of business is to thank Virgil Bucchianeri for keeping things light during the memorial Mass for my granddad.
He and Father Joe Anthony kept up a running gag about calling the Pope. Though I've no facts yet, I kind of think they did.
For those who may not believe the departed look after the ones they leave behind, I can tell you that as Virgil read the final line of Robert W. Service's "The Cremation of Sam McGee" the sun burst through the stain-glass window to warm all three rows where granddad's family was sitting.
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For Christmas my dad gave me a copy of "Slippery Gulch," by Maitland Stanley.
We grew up in Slippery Gulch running nearly as free as the coyotes that roam today. The only exception being our mom generally expected us home for dinner.
Slippery Gulch is the long-ago name for Gold Hill and we always called our little house in the canyon Shanty in the Gulch.
As familiar as I am with my old stomping grounds, though, I fully expect to spend at least a week this summer holding Stanley's book in one hand while putting miles on my hikin' boots or mountain bike scrambling the hills to get the same view.
I found the book fascinating and read every word. I was on a plane to Nebraska at the time or I'm sure I'd have jumped in my car and driven then and there to check things out.
Looking at the old photos and trying to tie them with the contemporary landscape is one of my favorite pastimes. Stanley is to be congratulated on toughing it out for some 30 years of research and writing. I'm not sure where one can find a copy of the book, but mine came from the Mark Twain Bookstore at Taylor and C streets in Virginia City.
The book is filled with pictures of then and now and lots of information. There is also a photo, the only photo any of us "shanty dwellers" have seen, of the canyon showing the historic view of the plot where we grew up in the shadow of the headframe of the New York Mine.
With the reconstruction of the V&T Railroad through Gold Hill the Slippery Gulch and its history will again come into focus. It will be up to us to make sure its future does not erase its history. Stanley has done a good bit of work for us already.
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Another effort to keep history alive is being made into a movie. A woman, an off-Broadway producer turned Nevadan, stopped by the Appeal this week to pitch her dream. She has written a screenplay and is, it seems ,well on her way to making a movie.
Using an old mine outside Silver City and a new miner's shack so it doesn't look 150 years old, Jacqulyn Hamilton plans to create a drama in 1876 Virginia City.
Rehearsals for the movie titled "Coyote Hole" could begin as early as next month with filming to begin in September.
It's not a typical mining movie in that it doesn't focus on men and machines.
In her synopsis, Jacqulyn brings Isaiah Wilkes, an aging businessman from Lynn, Mass., west to Virginia City to aid his brother and niece. We see Virginia City at its peak of prosperity. Yet mining is hard, dangerous and physically demanding. In this setting Isaiah loses sight of who he is as a man and vents his frustration and anger upon his niece.
Elizabeth at first retreats into madness. Eventually she takes control of her life. But the difficulties and hardships they encounter are no match for the human spirit. Their redemption is not external, not brought about by others or some magical rescue. The strength of their will and values are what help them survive the hardships of the Comstock gold rush and the darkness of the coyote hole.
Jacqulyn said a coyote hole is a small miner's hole, so named for its size and the fact that a coyote's hole is cleaner.
We'll keep tabs on Jacqulyn's dream. In the meantime find out more about her company Ocean of Dreams at www.oceanofdreams.net or e-mail her at jrhlala@hotmailcom
Kelli Du Fresne is features editor for the Nevada Appeal. Contact her at kdufresne@nevadaappeal. com or at 881-1261.
