Tag: Mining

  • Jerry Robert Springer

    Jerry Robert Springer

    How do I sum up one man’s life in a few short pages, especially one who has lived a life as full of adventure and service as Jerry Springer? I don’t. All I can do is capture bits and pieces – the moments in time that stand out – and hope those stories honor this man who has touched so many lives.

    Jerry’s first experience in life began with an adventure. His parents, Beryl and Tura Springer, were living in a tent cabin community near Mammoth Lakes, California. Beryl, like his father, Jeremiah (Jerry) Robey Springer, and his grandfather, Nathan Chatman Springer, was a miner, working at the Cardinal Mine in the eastern Sierra Nevada Mountains. As if being born in a mining community wasn’t exciting enough, Jerry decided to take things up a notch. Jerry Robert Springer made his debut in Bishop, CA, on January 21, 1937, right in the middle of a massive snowstorm! Getting to and from the hospital was challenging. Due to the heavy snowfall and record-cold temperatures, two neighbors tried but could not start their cars.

    Jerry recalls his mother telling him, “It was quite difficult, as big as I was, to keep getting in and out of cars. It became hilarious; in fact, by the time I got to the third car, I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.’” The roads coming home from the hospital were impassible, and the Cardinal Company had to send a snow plow to clear the roads and tow the Springer’s car back to the mining camp. They were the last two vehicles to travel the canyon until mid-February. Once at their home, Beryl and several friends had to “[…] dig a snow trench and tunnel over six feet high and more than 30 feet long from the road to the cabin door.” That experience was probably not much different than the ones they would have while ‘digging out’ roads and driveways at their home base in Midway, Utah. Midway was home to several mining families, especially during the Depression. The husbands would work in California, Argentina, Mexico, or wherever they could find work, while the wives stayed in Midway.

    Although Jerry spent his early years living in various mining camps in California, Nevada, and Park City, Midway has been home to the Springer families since the late 1800s when their ancestors, Captain Cornelius A. Springer and Elizabeth (Bess) Moser Springer, first settled in the Heber Valley. Beryl purchased property in Midway (now 71 South 200 West) in 1939, eventually building a home in 1941. The home was unique because it was constructed of wooden ammunition boxes, using sawdust for insulation. Like many miners, Beryl split his time between farming and mining, and Jerry only lived in this particular home for a short time while Beryl and Tura built a home across the street. During his elementary school days, Jerry lived in Midway and spent his summers out of town wherever Beryl was mining. By the late 1940s, the Springer’s moved to Pleasant Grove, where Jerry would graduate from Pleasant Grove High School in 1955.

    Within a few years of his birth, Jerry was joined by a brother, Richard, and a sister — whom he adored — Norma Jean (Jeannie). Jeannie and Jerry shared a special bond, “She was a great gal. We did a lot of things together.” Jerry chuckles as he remembers, “We double-dated; she’d have a girlfriend that didn’t have a boyfriend, and she’d say, ‘I’ve got a brother.’” Jerry pauses for a moment before continuing, “It’s kind of hard to talk about her.” He then shared that on Christmas Day, 1956, while riding in a car with a friend, they were hit by a drunk driver, and Jeannie was severely injured. During the 1950s, ambulances looked more like station wagons. Jerry’s friend was the driver, and he let him crawl in the back to be close to Jeannie. Norma Jean Springer passed away in the ambulance while en route to the hospital in Salt Lake City, just 16 days before her 17th birthday. It was an earth-shattering event for Jerry and his family, and Christmas Day has never been the same. While the ache of loss never really leaves us, we discover how to treasure the memories of those moments and look toward the future. And Jerry had scores of moments and memories ahead of him.

    Following in his ancestor’s footsteps, Jerry began working at the mines when he was 15 as a Nipper. Jerry explains, “My father was a hard rock miner. […] He worked underground, where they had to blast, going after metals like gold, silver, and copper. I was what they called a ‘Nipper,’ that’s a person who would work with the underground miners. We’d keep them provided with water; we had to use water to keep the dust down while they drilled. We’d get the dynamite and make sure that it went down the hole, and whatever other tasks they needed.” After high school graduation, Jerry would return to California, mining near his birthplace in Mammoth Lakes to help pay for college. Jerry also worked at mines in Park City, Snake Creek, and Mayflower. He states, “We were cheap, and we were careful, and that’s what they wanted.”

    Through the years, Jerry developed a deep love and passion for education, western and local history, photography, service, and his community. This enthusiasm would help to shape the rest of his life. Jerry attended Utah State University, where he received a bachelor’s degree in sociology and a master’s in history. While attending USU, Jerry met Karen Rae Knight. Karen was from Woodland, Utah, and shared Jerry’s passion for education, service, and eventually Wasatch County. Jerry and Karen were married on March 15, 1963, and had six children: CheriLynne, Trent, Raechelle, Sarah, Hazel, and Robyn. Although the couple would later divorce, they shared an amicable relationship. One of the family’s favorite memories was when all the siblings and their spouses took a trip to New York City with Jerry and Karen. Jerry doesn’t like flying and jokingly told one of his daughters, “I’ve gone this far (70 years); why not go the rest of my life without flying.” As the adage says, ‘Love conquers all,’ and Jerry’s first commercial flight was for his kids! He shares, “It was beautiful flying over the area.” Then he chuckles, “I wish the plane tilted a little more so that we could get a better view.” Apparently, Jerry has quite a sense of humor and loves to tease. A prime example of this was when they went to see the Statue of Liberty. As they were going through security with their cameras, Jerry kept asking, ‘Did you shoot that?’ Did you shoot that?’ The fun continued as they arrived at the ferry. It was raining, and everyone was in a hurry. Each time Jerry tried to go through security, the alarms would go off. He emptied every pocket, took off his coat, and tried everything until they figured out that it was the metal clips on his suspenders underneath his shirt. Jerry recalls, “It was a fun trip.” Jerry’s children credit him for their ability to laugh when things get hard and describe Jerry as fun and spunky.

    Jerry’s ‘spunkiness’ was evident even as a young boy. His Aunt and Uncle, Pauline and Joseph Erwin, were the original owners of Luke’s Hot Pots Resort in Midway (now Midway Mountain Spa/Ameyalli Spa Wellness Resort). Both Pauline and Joe had a lot of connections in the entertainment industry. Jerry recalls, “Pauline was a hair model, and Joe played professional baseball, wrote songs, and was in movies.” The couple’s friendship with big names like Roy Rogers and Virginia Mayo helped the Hot Pots become a major attraction for Hollywood celebrities and other entertainers. And spunky ten-year-old Jerry couldn’t wait to be right in the middle of all the excitement. Jerry loved horses and was put in charge of helping with the horses at the resort. During this time, young Jerry got to meet a lot of Hollywood stars and entertainers, but Rogers and Mayo, were the ones who visited the most and remain etched in the nostalgia of Luke’s Hot Pots Resort. One of Jerry’s best memories of that time was getting to ride on a horse with Virginia Mayo.

    Horses were a big part of Jerry’s life, and his fondness for them has led to many adventures. Jerry spent numerous summers saddle-packing the Wind River Range in Wyoming, the Thorofare region of Yellowstone to the Tetons, the eastern Sierras, and the Uinta mountains. While traversing the majestic peaks and inspiring wilderness, Jerry documented his travels and took amazing photographs. Jerry has had many of his writings and photographs featured in magazines like The Western Horseman, The Intermountain Quarter Horse, and Cutter & Chariot Racing World. His packing adventures initially began while Jerry was in college. During one summer break, he volunteered at Inyo National Forest in California and recalled, “We helped with everything from maintaining trails […] and taking the general public into the mountains. We were their guides and packed with horses. We also packed for those running cattle — we called ourselves Packers. I don’t remember the year, but it was a really special time and a lot of fun for a young single kid.” Inyo was near the mine where Jerry used to work with his dad. His experience working with horses there would be the catalyst for years of volunteer work with the National Parks and the National Forest Service. In 1967, Jerry joined the Wasatch County Sheriff’s Posse. When it was discovered that Jerry owned a boat, the Sheriff asked if he would join Search and Rescue — and of course, he did. However, most of Jerry’s time with SAR would be spent on the back of his horse, Smokey. Jerry recalls, “We rode horses year-round, even in the snow. We patrolled Deer Creek Reservoir and around the lakes in the Uintas. We found a lot of drowning victims – we were pretty successful at finding them, but it was difficult to get there in time.” It was a grueling and emotional task for the men. Jerry shares, “Horses have a real sense when you are riding them, especially when we were carrying living and non-living people.” Jerry also helped others with their equine escapades. You may or may not be aware that Heber used to host cutter and chariot races, and as can be expected, Jerry was involved with those too. His favorite memories with horses involve riding with his son, Trent, as they explored the mountains and forests he loved. His excursions on horseback inspired Jerry as he combined his passion for the outdoors and history, creating hundreds and hundreds of lectures. Jerry spent 20+ years traveling with his kids to the national and state parks and forests in Utah, California, and Nevada. They would set up camp, and Jerry would present on mining, the fur trade, or national and state parks. Jerry’s children spent their summers visiting mining sites and camping all over the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains. Many of them love camping because of these experiences.

    While at home, Jerry settled into his daily routines and community service projects. Jerry worked for the State Office of Rehabilitation as a Vocational Rehabilitation Counselor in Heber and later in Provo. He enjoyed working with individuals who found it difficult to get a good job due to various mental and physical struggles. Jerry shares, “We were serious about what we were doing. We made sure that they were comfortable with the work they wanted. Many of those I worked with didn’t have arms or legs, and they trusted us to help them find work.” Jerry’s brother Richard also worked as a Vocational Rehab Counselor, and the brothers found a lot of happiness and satisfaction in helping others succeed. Jerry also enjoyed success in his endeavors. He built a beautiful home for his family in the same spot where his grandparents home used to sit. And, just like he enjoyed playing on his grandparent’s large front porch as a child, Jerry’s children would enjoy the “giant front porch” of their home. Jerry’s involvement and volunteer work in Wasatch County extends generations of Springer family service. Beryl and Tura were involved with creating the Midway Boosters Club in 1947; Jerry’s grandparents and Aunt and Uncle also became members.

    While part of the Booster Club, the Springer family joined forces with the Kohler family to create a beautiful float for the first Harvest Days Parade. Six years later, in 1953, it was decided to switch the focus of Harvest Days to a Swiss theme, and Midway’s very first Swiss Days was created. Jerry’s grandfather was one of the five-person committee who oversaw the first event; Jeremiah and Lydia Springer were listed as ‘Patrons of the first Midway Swiss Days.’ The Springer’s volunteered the use of their three-acre pasture west of the Ice Rink on Town Square as a parking area until the 1980s. Naturally, Jerry would continue to be involved with Swiss Days as an adult and served as the chairman of the Swiss Days Committee for three years. He was the first chairman allowed to pick which vendors could go in the square. Jerry has fond memories of these days and remembers “[…] spending the night in a sleeping bag next to the large Swiss Days fire pit with friends to make sure nobody would fall in it.” Three of his daughters were Swiss Miss Royalty, and in 2013, Jerry was chosen as Midway’s Honored Citizen and took part in the Swiss Days parade. Jerry’s deep love for Wasatch County, especially his hometown of Midway, is apparent through his acts of service.

    Anybody can make history. It takes a great man to write it.  – Oscar Wilde

    During his lifetime, Jerry has served on committees for the Midway Town Hall Restoration Committee and the Wasatch County Fair. He was also a special appointee of the Mayor as a member of the Midway Historic Preservation Committee, and was a frequent contributor to the Midway Newsletter. Jerry has been an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, serving in various callings like Ward Historian, Ward Clerk, and Assistant Scout Master. Many scouts have fond memoires of their backpacking, hiking, and camping ventures. Jerry’s educational endeavors included teaching at Wasatch Junior and High schools (1963-1966), teaching History at Brigham Young University, and teaching at Elderhostel programs for BYU and UVU at the Homestead Resort in Midway, the Chateau Après Lodge in Park City, and Snowbird Lodge at Brighton. Helping others receive a good education has always been important to Jerry; Utah State University has two scholarships, one in geology and one in business, set up in the Springer name. Jerry created several historical mining displays (some permanent) for Midway Elementary, Heber Valley Senior Citizen Center, the Heber City offices, the Daughters of Utah Pioneers, the Sons of Utah Pioneers, and at the visitor centers at Jordanelle State Park and Wasatch Mountain State Park.

    Most Wasatch County residents know Jerry Springer as the ‘town historian,’ and for good reason. Jerry has spent decades compiling and collecting photos, articles, letters and notes, artifacts, memorabilia, and a plethora of other items of interest, from mining to Utah’s past and the Old West to Wasatch County’s history. Jerry meticulously arranged everything that could tell a story in the last home he built and lived in, near the property that originally hosted Luke’s Hot Pots. It is here that my family was first introduced to Jerry. While out for a drive, my husband and son passed Jerry’s home. He was outside and flagged them down — they stopped — and before long Jerry had invited them into his home. (I learned later that ‘inviting others in’ was a common event for Jerry.) Hours later the two returned home and excitedly told me about this amazing man they had just met, they showed me pictures of what I could only describe as an incredible in-home museum. I immediately wanted to meet Jerry and write his story — I had no idea what I would discover. To write Jerry’s life story would take years and fill volumes. Those lucky enough to know Jerry well are probably nodding and smiling to themselves right about now — a true testament to the lives he has touched. To say that he has had an enormous impact on Wasatch County residents and visitors would be an understatement. Many may not even realize that they’ve benefited from Jerry’s countless labors of love. When I finally had the privilege of interviewing Jerry, a few of his daughters, who live nearby, were able to join us. The one thing that stood out the most to me was the love that permeated the room. Our conversations were full of smiles, tender reflections, a few tears, and a lot of laughter. As stories were shared, Jerry would interject with comments like, “That’s alright, you can’t embarrass me,” and “I don’t know what stories she’s telling you, but there sure is a lot of laughing,” or my personal favorite, “Well, I’ve never been in Jail.” Actually, my favorite statement and moment was when one of Jerry’s daughters said, “Oh, Dad! We are so proud of you! And it’s really fun to brag about you for a little while.” With tears welling up, Jerry quietly responded, “Thank you.” Although there is a lot to ‘brag’ about, as Jerry has received many awards, honors, and accolades for his contributions and service hours, I believe his greatest accomplishments can be measured within the hearts and memories of his children.

    Recently, his children made sure that Jerry had the opportunity to visit the Springer Farms’ new farmhouse. After 86 years, Jerry has come full circle from walking in the space of the original home his great-grandmother, Matilda Robey Springer, built, and his father later grew up in, to visiting the new space his 2nd cousin, David Springer, helped design and build — a tender moment I’m sure. And one that, in typical Jerry fashion, has been documented in writing and captured with photographs. Jerry has spent his life devoted to sharing the history of places and people, and I hope that this brief but heartfelt ‘history’ of his life is, in some small measure, an honorable tribute to Jerry Robert Springer.

  • Scavenger Hunt Adventure

    Scavenger Hunt Adventure

    A bright summer sun lights up the large red barn west of a pioneer home site off Southfield Road. Chirping birds in two tall pines are momentarily silenced by the Heber Creeper’s shrill whistle as she rolls southwest along the historic Heber — Provo railroad line. Suddenly, my Minepro metal detector beeps loudly, indicating a metal object approximately 8” below (according to the digital readout). I am detecting around a brick walkway that leads to the now boarded-up front door. I dig a circular hole in the reddish soil roughly 6“ in circumference around the center of the return — an approximate bullseye. About 5” down I stick my pinpointer in the hole and hear the growl and vibration that tells me I am close to uncovering history!

    Not all Treasure is Silver and Gold, Mate!
    – Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean

    I love hunting for history. Even the smallest articles have a story and those stories help us understand those who have come before. And when we understand them, we can better understand ourselves. The object I discovered that day was a lightly worn brass token almost the size of a modern quarter and later determined to come from a Café that was operating in Salt Lake City as late as 1935. After I gently cleaned the dirt off the token, using only soapy water and a soft cotton cloth, words letters and numbers appeared: “Café Grill…Good For One…12½ Cents…Cigar…1600 E 300 N”. It must have been a big stogie to cost 12½ cents back in those depression era days. Later that day, under a grassy rise a few feet from the walkway, I also detected and uncovered a large brass padlock, with “Miller” etched in script on its face. More research revealed that the respected Miller Lock company was bought out by York in 1905. I found a similar padlock selling on eBay for $45 — mine is in slightly better shape. The owner of the property, a friend, lets me keep the finds. I leave him with an old Lincoln cent and some buried metal farm tools I dug up earlier. No gold or silver yet but some interesting relics from our Heber Valley past.

    As a geologist, I am drawn to the rich mining histories of both Wasatch and Summit counties. Much of my free time is spent hiking and exploring the old mining sites. Today, a 2.7-mile hike takes me along a trail that partly follows a turn of the century (1890-1915) narrow gauge, mine railway. I gain almost 2,500 vertical feet before reaching the abandoned shafts and large tailings of a once-productive mine. This is quite a feat considering I am also hauling my detecting tools, backpack, and rock hammer with me — this ‘scavenger hunt’ will require a bit more effort. Here, Heber City, Midway and Park City miners once labored in tunnels that reached depths of 2,300’. This specific site was part of a complex that once produced thousands of ounces of gold, silver, lead, and zinc. Old assay buildings, cabins, latrines, storage bunkers, and even a saloon dot the site, mostly buried in pines on the south side of a creek. The majority of abandoned Wasatch Back mines are either part of Wasatch Mountain State Park or were bought by the Extell Corporation for development of the new Mayflower Resort complex. Detecting in these old mines is now almost impossible due to state and private property restrictions. But today is a Bonanza-Eureka day as I uncover Wasatch Back history once again in the form of narrow gauge railroad spikes, mining drill bits once used to set explosive charges to listen up the ore, a silver fork and spoon, a broken pocket knife, several high-grade ore/mineral specimens, and a pewter cup that perhaps once watered a thirsty miner!

    Uncovering our rich past is not limited to those with metal detectors and rock hammers. Sometimes a historical object with a story to tell can be found half-buried in an old wall or attic space while remodeling, or even hidden in the pages of an old book that once belonged to someone’s great-grandparents. The publisher of Heber Valley Life Magazine found a variety of historic artifacts, including old tin holders with colorful labels, while remodeling the old building that now houses Heber City’s own magazine and printing company!

    Finally, there are many local fields, ballparks, fairgrounds, old home sites, municipal parks, and other places that make for great detecting and scavenging. It is vital to get permission first before detecting/exploring on private property or State Park properties. National Parks are strictly off-limits.

    To learn more about detecting, scavenging, and collecting history I recommend reading back issues of local newspapers and magazines. You can also join a local historical society, talk to the folks at the Daughters of Utah Pioneers Museum on Main Street, or attend a meeting of the Wasatch Coin and History Club (held on the last Tuesday of each month at the Wasatch County Library in Heber City from 6-7:30 PM). Happy hunting!

    List of Tools for Beginner Treasure Hunters

    1. Inexpensive metal detector
    2. Garret pinpointer
    3. Extra batteries
    4. Sturdy trowel
    5. Canvas or tough nylon pouch with handle to carry extra batteries, and items found.
    6. Small, sturdy steel shovel (optional)
    7. Metal or plastic sand  scooper with small holes to catch coins in sandy areas (optional)
    8. Hand-held GPS map and place marker (optional)
    9. Small towel to dry things off if it rains
    10. A few Ziploc bags for extra found items

    List of Tools for Advanced Treasure Hunters

    All the above PLUS:

    • You’ll want an advanced metal detector and pinpointer capable of differentiating iron, silver, copper, and gold with a depth meter and waterproof 11” coil.
    • Extra coil for deeper detecting – 16” (optional)
  • The Mayflower Star Mine

    The Mayflower Star Mine

    In January, 2019, while skiing down to the Sultan Express Chairlift at Deer Valley, I noticed the outlines of an old silver mine below the lift to the East, and a large mine tailing area even further down the mountain.

    As a trained geologist, whose first job after college was exploring for geothermal energy and related epithermal ore deposits in Utah and Nevada, my curiosity was raised! In May of 2020 I finally got the chance to hike up and visit these old mines of the Park City Mining District, Mayflower Complex. The large tailings hill I saw from the chairlift was part of a rich silver-gold-lead-zinc mine called the Star Tunnel, the highest and north-western-most working mine in the Mayflower Complex. For the next three years I made numerous hikes up to the Star Tunnel and surrounding mines. Today, they are all abandoned, with remains of a once thriving miners camp complete with saloon, cabins, latrines, workshops, storage buildings, assay offices and, of course, mine shafts and tailings piles.

    The story of the Mayflower Mine, especially the Star Tunnel, has been forgotten over time. Most of the attention, both historical and commercial, went to mines and other historic ruins closer to Park City, like the Silver King, Judd, Dailey, Crescent, Thaynes, and other great producers of silver, lead and zinc. However, only the Mayflower, and a few other small mines near Park City, had not only these “big three” minerals, but were also quite rich in gold. In fact, The Mayflower and Pearl veins, accessed by the Star and other tunnels, were some of the richest gold and silver producing veins of the entire Park City Mining District.

    The mines first opened at the turn of the century. Unfortunately, the underground tunnels, as in other mines, quickly flooded. The water was hot, with temperatures in the tunnels reaching 150 degrees. The same aquifer that feeds the now famous Homestead Crater and surrounding hot springs in Midway, also poured steamy water into these tunnels. After a certain depth and relatively short timeframe, mining was abandoned at the Star and other tunnels. The narrow gauge railway that brought the rich ore down was pulled up, and the area was temporarily abandoned. The lower Mayflower Mine, closer to Highway 40 and the Jordanelle Reservoir, continued to produce into the 1960s. Other mineable minerals included iron and copper, but silver, lead, zinc and gold were the real money-makers.

    Early miners and mining engineers shared interesting stories about their lives underground in the Mayflower and other Park City Mining District tunnels. Several of the volunteers at the Daughters of Utah Pioneers museum in Heber City recalled how their fathers worked in these mines, enduring long hours in tight spaces, drilling, blasting and hauling ore from the tunnels.

    Later attempts to get the Star and other upper Mayflower tunnels working again met with some success; including construction of a drain tunnel which is now a water source for the small Glencoe Canyon stream and potentially for the new Mayflower Resort development. However, the water and temperature issues in the deeper tunnels prevented further exploration and soon she was another ghost camp. The Star Tunnel’s tailings are immense, covering several kilometers and towering over two hundred feet in height. The miners once produced high quality bricks and lead for sealing pipes and other uses. In later years, a large electrical plant was built above the mine, closer to the Sultan Express and Mayflower ski lifts of Deer Valley Resort. Other, nearby rich but smaller ore deposits were prospected and mined, including the Glencoe Mine.

    Perhaps the most important and interesting features of the Mayflower mining complex includes the flora and fauna-rich Glencoe Canyon, with its rain and drain tunnel-fed stream, and the surrounding ridges, gullies and hills. Historical ruins abound, from early telegraph/telephone poles and lines to cabins, mine buildings, mine shaft riggings, diggings, tailings, etc. With a little effort and investment, the once rich Star Mine could easily be restored for tourism, serving both Deer Valley and Mayflower Resort guests in addition to the public. Plans for bike and hiking trails in Glencoe Canyon and surrounding areas already exist and at least one trail is already built that gets explorers close to the Star Mine. Of course, the once public (BLM) and mining company — owned land is now private, bought up and consolidated by Extell Corporation of New York/Utah. In partnership with the Military Installation Development Authority (MIDA) and potentially with Deer Valley, Extell has cut out ski runs, roads, expensive home sites and is building a large hotel and condominium complex. Perhaps a partnership can be worked out between the developers/resorts and Wasatch County Parks and Recreation to establish a historical and natural attraction, accessible by the public, around the former Star Mine. The Extell Senior Vice President for Development, Kurt Krieg, did a fantastic job helping develop the Gerald Ford Amphitheater and Botanical Garden in Vail, CO. His expertise will ensure that Mayflower is a beautiful resort and could also be used in establishing a historic site, perhaps complete with an outdoor concert amphitheater below the Star Mine ruins. Local artists would be sure to utilize such a venue.

    Numerous articles have been published regarding this new resort development and partnerships by both local news, real estate and development corporation writers and are easily accessed online. There are also several excellent articles on the history and geology of the Park City Mining District and the Park City Museum is a great place to visit and learn more about our incredible mining and early ski resort history.

    As we move into the future it is important we preserve what we can and not forget our past and those who paved the way for us to be where we are today.

  • Beneath the Surface

    Beneath the Surface

    My first introduction to the lost town of Keetley came from a story my dad tells about him and his high-school friend, driving along the old stretch of highway 40 that then bridged Park City and Heber, before the dam was constructed in the late 80s. They had a tradition that as they approached Keetley, my dad would kick his 1964 Buick Special into neutral, turn off his engine, and coast down the hill towards Heber; then, as they approached the Keetley town limits, as indicated by a small road sign reading “Keetley,” they would take a deep breath and hold it until they had passed the corresponding “Keetley” sign on the opposite end of town. To this day, my dad asserts that he has “never breathed Keetley air,” and that’s never ceased to amuse me upon each retelling.

    In the mid 90s, Jordanelle reservoir was completely filled up; obscuring Keetley to this day.

    Aside from my dad’s story, the submerged town has remained somewhat of a curiosity and a mystery to me. I always wanted to know what was down there, and if there is anything left. Upon learning about this sunken city on my local doorstep, Keetley achieved something of a mythical, Atlantis-like status in my young mind. Whenever my family would drive by, I would imagine scuba diving through in-tact, fully submerged, buildings at the bottom of Jordanelle.

    Perhaps comparing the aquatic ghost town of Keetley to the fictitious sunken city of Atlantis is a bit of a socio-economic exaggeration, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that part of our not-so-distant history now rests beneath more than 13 billion cubic feet of water in the Jordanelle reservoir (give or take a few, depending on the season).

    Diving into Keetley’s History

    Let’s explore some of Keetley’s story! Though in its latter years the town didn’t seem like much more than a tiny agricultural community, there’s significant history there! The town’s genesis has its roots interwoven with the silver boom in Park City. In 1872 prospectors opened the Ontario claim to the east of town; dubbing it Camp Florence, for the first ‘lady’ to visit the camp. In 1875/1876 the Park City Mining District chose the area for a drainage tunnel; the tunnel took six years to build and by the time it was finished, little Camp Florence had become a large mining community. The town was eventually named after the local mining project supervisor, John B. (Jack) Keetley, a former pony express rider with an impressive reputation; the numbers vary, but it’s said that he covered 300 miles in just shy of 24 hours.

    Miners were not the only ones who were interested in what was fast becoming a busy town. In 1917 brothers, George and Donald Gail Fisher, purchased a 4,000-acre ranch near Ontario Drain Tunnel No. 2. Gail and his family worked the ranch while his brother George was involved with politics; he was elected to the Utah State Senate in 1922. 1922 also brought some major improvements like: electricity, water piped to homes, and telephone services, which enhanced and improved the living conditions in Keetley. In 1923 the United Park City Mines Company built four bunkhouses and a boardinghouse to house the almost 600 men that worked there. They also constructed new offices, shops, and a commissary. Children of the miners and farmers who had found their way to Keetley attended Elkhorn School, a small wooden building that housed grades K-12. The largest class had a whooping four students and the graduation class of 1924 numbered — one. Eventually, there were more students and a two-story school was built; however, by 1929 it was too expensive to keep the school running and it was closed down. The almost 90 students were bused to Heber; for evening activities the bus would transport both students and their parents.

    Keetley experienced a momentary glimpse of progress and rise in population, when, in 1923, Union Pacific constructed the Ontario Branch, “which left the Park City Branch about four miles east of Park City at a point that the railroad chose to name Keetley Junction. The station at the Ontario drainage tunnel at Keetley soon became the major traffic point on UP’s Park City Branch. The new branch to Keetley meant that locomotives did not have to move up the steep and curving spur from Park City to the Ontario mine, situated above the town, improving safety for the railroad and for the town’s citizens. The new location also allowed larger locomotives and cars to be used, allowing for increased traffic.”

    Local entertainment in Keetley began to increase as well when two men from Butte, Montana showed up asking to lease some land. Remembered only as Big and Little Joe; the two men built an amusement hall called the Blue Goose. The Blue Goose was painted blue and had a marble-topped bar and stained-glass barroom doors. It was a happening place and quickly developed a “reputation that rivaled the dance halls of Park City.2” The Blue Goose attracted both out-of-state and local boxers, wrestlers, and dancers, for matches and dances that they hosted. Gambling was a popular past time for those visiting the Blue Goose and its card rooms and pool and craps tables; hiding whisky around the grounds of the Blue Goose was also popular during prohibition. Eventually, all the partying came to an abrupt halt when the Great Depression hit and the Blue Goose closed its doors. It was used for a while to show movies or host Boy Scout activities, but sometime between 1937 and 1941 it was torn down. Ultimately, the railroad and mining productions would also succumb to the depression with most mines closing or operating with skeleton crews. “By 1952 the golden days of mining in the Keetley area had faded. The ore no longer earned top dollar on the market, and the coming of the unions brought lengthy strikes. Many miners could not afford to wait the strikes out and sought work elsewhere.”

    In the wake of the events at Pearl Harbor and Franklin D. Roosevelt’s February 1942 executive order 9066, many Japanese Americans began fleeing persecution on the west coast, which eventually culminated in large populations of them being relocated and confined in U.S. internment camps. Some of the somewhat more fortunate individuals of Japanese descent found their way to Utah’s small town of Keetley, where they worked to build a farming community from what was apparently the largest group of (somewhat) voluntarily resettled Japanese descendants at the time. Their hard work, especially considering the rocky soil of the appropriately-named Rocky Mountains, yielded a significant contribution of produce for the surrounding areas, which was viewed as a noble and patriotic venture during the war effort. Though some were skeptical of the incoming Japanese-descended farmers, the proverbial and literal fruits of their labors earned the trust and respect of their neighbors. One such remarkable individual was named Fred Isamu Wada. Fred’s wife was born and raised in Utah, which surely was a major factor that led to the selecting of Keetly as their place of refuge. Fred was, it turns out, the leader of the whole farming venture, which he seems to have led with an astonishingly honorable spirit, despite the difficult circumstances. After the war, most of the farmers moved back towards the west coast and the rest dispersed elsewhere.

    The Great Buyout

    If we fast-forward to the late 80s and do a little research on the Jordanelle reservoir and building of the dam, which eventually sealed Keetley in its watery grave, you’ll find that it was a fairly contentious subject at the time. There seem to have been heated council meetings with some local unease. Some geologists felt the dam would be unsafe, while others approved the project. It’s reasonable to understand the perspectives of both those who were wary of living downstream of a large man-made dam and those who saw benefit in storing more water along the water channel between the Duchesne tunnel and the Wasatch front. In the end, residents and ranchers in Keetley were bought out, relocated to other areas, and the valley was flooded.

    Now, it should be noted that Keetley wasn’t the only town that was relegated to the status of Historical footnote by the reservoir project; it’s simply the one I’ve heard the most about. The two other towns were called Hailstone and, you guessed it, Jordanelle. Keetley was the largest of the three towns.

    Quite by chance, after visiting the Park City Museum earlier this year, I discovered a display of the Ontario drainage tunnel. On my drive home from the museum, I couldn’t help but pull over and trek down to the shoreline of the reservoir (which seemed lower than I ever remember seeing it). I was hoping to catch a glimpse of some relic of Keetley with enough height that it might have survived to peek up through the low surface of the water. Walking along the windy shore, I found a short section of what seemed to be the old stretch of highway 40, made of badly cracked and crumbling asphalt. I took a picture and couldn’t help but imagine my dad coasting down that very road and holding his breath.

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