Love In Tonopah

The triangular scaffolding with a pulley at the top and a bucket hanging from a rope looped over the pulley is a “head frame.” I learned the name from Minnie who is 89. She knows such things because she has spent all her 89 good years in Tonopah. Her father was a miner because he loved mining. Her husband was a miner and he loved it too. They both died of silicosis. Perhaps we all die of love – either the want of it or from the spending of our lives in love. And Minnie’s story is a love story.

Tony was a 26 year old in Saginaw, Michigan doing a little of this, then a little of that, until he got a letter from his father. Tony’s dad was mining in Tonopah, having a great time. He thought Tony should give it a try. So he did. He packed up and moved to Tonopah where he rented a little cabin next to a dairy. One day the farmer asked Tony to help him deliver the milk. That’s how it happened that when 16 year old Minnie answered the door early one morning in 1937, she met and fell in instant love with the new milkman.

Not long afterward, Tony and Minnie eloped to Hawthorne, where they were secretly married, then returned to life as usual in Tonopah. Months later, Minnie fessed up to her mother who by the way was from the old country in Eastern Europe. It did not set well, but eventually everyone came around and became a happy family. Minnie has 4 adult children all of whom live in Tonopah. Following the example her Capulet style wedding, 3 of her classmates eloped to Hawthorne that year.

The last time I blogged about Tonopah, I was quoting David Kranes’ Life On The Moon. But this time, the story that seems more in point is Marjorie Brown’s Lady In Boomtown, a true life memoir and another love story. Marjorie was a starry eyed 18 year old in 1903 when young lawyer Hugh Brown proposed and asked her to follow him from San Francisco to Tonopah where he would handle the legalities attendant to all that brand new gold and silver. Love takes certain heroism. Minnie and Marjorie had it.

So as you have surmised, last Sunday was my visit to St. Mark’s, Tonopah, a small but boldly resilient congregation. After breakfast at Tonopah Station, where none of the young folks knew what a head frame was, we headed over to church for a worship. Afterward, we had Sam’s barbeque ribs, Bonnie’s new recipe for beans, and a lot of good conversation. Then a self-guided tour of the Mining Park, and we were on our way back down 95.

A couple of footnotes: The Pahrump Mirror, Nye County’s only independent newspaper, reports that The Shady Lady, one of our long established rural brothels, is going co-ed. Yes, men are to join the oldest profession out there in the desert. The headline was “Shady Lady To Offer Rooster Services.” The picture under the headline was of 7 ladies mostly in somewhat slinky evening wear, some black, one red. Despite the implication, however, they were neither the Shady Ladies nor prospective customers. They were the contestants for Ms. Senior Golden Years 2009.

On our way to Tonopah, we stopped off in Beatty to get a closer look at a colorful gathering. It was the Sour Dough Saloon’s Annual Pig Roast. Quite a crowd had gathered for the outside repast with live music. Most were in classic western attire including some Senior Golden Ladies in dance hall girl dresses worthy of the Long Branch. Bikers were also well represented. I have not made it to Beatty Days yet. That is the end of October. But Beatty is also quite a place. Wish we had a church there.

I have heard I-95 described as a boring drive. Whoever finds 95 boring must be driving with their eyes shut. It is one amazing manifestation after another.

Oh yes, Goldfield, population 289 is growing at the rate of 10% per year. The roadside jewelry dealer swears if it hits 500, he’s out of there.

Holy Spirit Gets Hate Mail For Pentecost

The Church of the Holy Spirit in Bullhead City is a lovely small congregation in a town that is largely a retirement community. The congregation is primarily senior citizens. They are not the sort to march for liberal causes.

But just before Pentcost, they recieved a handwritten note threatening to burn their church because we are a gay inclusive denomination. I am not sure whether I am speechless at the absurdity of evil or whether the response to this sensless venom is too obvious.

One think I hope it will clarify for us as a diocese and a denomination is that we are in fact a family. What we do affects each other. That's why we must support each other, consider each other, and appreciate each other.

Catholicity & Apostolicity In Las Vegas

Most people in Las Vegas are new here and don’t know how long they are going to say. But there is a special breed of veteran Vegasites. They have been here for decades and measure their seniority by how close to downtown they can name a street that was still unpaved when they moved here. 30, 40, or 50 years ago is current events back East, but in Nevada, that’s history – especially in a place that has changed so much so fast as Las Vegas. Watching half a century of history unfold anywhere has to lend some perspective. But watching the cultural seismic shift that has rocked Las Vegas – population c. 200 around the year 1905 – means nothing surprises this bunch. Yes, the veteran Vegasites are their own special breed of urban sage.

So why am I going on about this rare breed of Western savant? Because the Saturday evening Eucharist at All Saints is heavily populated with Veteran Vegasites. (I don’t know if they would like this title. “Vegas” to a “local” does not mean the City of Las Vegas. It means “the Strip” about which the “locals” are ambivalent. When a local means Las Vegas, we say “Las Vegas.”) In any event, it was my privilege last Saturday to worship with the VV’s of All Saints – a wise and clever crowd with a good sense of humor.

Then next morning, the 8:00 a.m. Eucharist was not the norm. It had about 50 people belting out hymns accompanied by Fr. Bede on the organ. Afterward, Linda and I joined the rowdy back row crowd for their weekly breakfast at the Sunshine Café down the street. The early Sunday service was a bit more ethnically mixed than the Saturday group.

Then came the energetic larger service (c. 140 people – note: put the past 3 services together and we have well surpassed the 1905 population of the whole city) where we baptized one adult and two little girls. This group was more ethnically mixed than the congregation at 8:00.

You might expect things to slow down in the summer afternoon. But quite the opposite. The congregation of Todos Los Santos brought in another 190 people. We confirmed 20 youth and celebrated first communion for numerous children dressed in white, carrying candles, rosaries, and other holy objects. They politely endured my massacre of their language at the Mass. The music was lively to say the least. The congregation worshiped with the most joyful exuberance I have seen in quite some time.

But wait there’s more. In the late afternoon, the Holy Child Filipino congregation – 30 of them -- gathered for a charismatic style service with a praise band you wouldn’t believe – piano, drums, two guitars, tambourines, and brilliant vocalists. Lay leadership was front and center for this service. And afterward, we enjoyed a delicious repast of Filipino cuisine.

Now you may assume things were over, and for me they were. I am not as young as I used to be. At this point, I was just plumb worshiped out and went home. But no it wasn’t over at All Saints. The next Spanish Language Mass was about to begin at 6:00 p.m. while I loaded up my vestments and other ecclesiastical paraphernalia and “homeward trod my weary way.” But it was one amazing day!

The church is one, holy, catholic, and apostolic. The catholicity (universality) depends on diversity. That’s what All Saints does in this diocese. Thanks be to God. The apostolicity depends on our faithfulness to the apostolic mission of sharing Christ’s love with the world. That is what All Saints is doing by reaching out to newcomers in Las Vegas while keeping faith with those who have sustained this church so long.