Mizpah Hotel is OPEN!!

[Jim Galli]

WOW... Does that echo an earlier era ... I cannot even imagine what the life, hopes, and aspirations of an African American male were in Tonopah, Nevada in 1946.

Maybe a sigh of relief. I'm guessing he got a fairer shake in outback Nevada than a lot of other places. Looking at the lines in his eyes, he's not young. I would guess him at 65 - 68 or so. Which would mean his folks could have endured slavery.

[goamules]

Pretty good life, compared to now in Detroit, Philli, DC...

[Drew Wiley]

I grew up with some Nevada mustangers (relocated to a big ranch in the Sierras) who were about twenty degrees beyond anything redneck. Hardworkin, hard smokin, and hard opinions about anyone different than them. One of the bunkhouse cowpokes who sat around the table sippin ice tea and listening to 78's of Loretta Lynn was black. They never even noticed. He was a cowboy, period. He was in. He could rope, break mustangs, smoke gnarly Old Golds, and curl a dirty cowboy hat just like the rest. The demographics can get pretty darn interesting at times, and often defy stereotypes. In that part of the world there were cowboys, Indians, and everybody else (meaning everyone else outside the club). Wish I had had a camera when I was that young. These NG photojournalist types sanitize culture just too much. One of the tools it gave me is the ability to strike up a conversation with a Paiute or rancher at some little breakfast bar out in sagebrush county and learn the local lore, secret locations (to potentially photograph) etc. "Culture" grows on more than just asphalt, folks.

[Jim Galli]

I grew up with some Nevada mustangers (relocated to a big ranch in the Sierras) who were about twenty degrees beyond anything redneck. Hardworkin, hard smokin, and hard opinions about anyone different than them. One of the bunkhouse cowpokes who sat around the table sippin ice tea and listening to 78's of Loretta Lynn was black. They never even noticed. He was a cowboy, period. He was in. He could rope, break mustangs, smoke gnarly Old Golds, and curl a dirty cowboy hat just like the rest. The demographics can get pretty darn interesting at times, and often defy stereotypes. In that part of the world there were cowboys, Indians, and everybody else (meaning everyone else outside the club). Wish I had had a camera when I was that young. These NG photojournalist types sanitize culture just too much. One of the tools it gave me is the ability to strike up a conversation with a Paiute or rancher at some little breakfast bar out in sagebrush county and learn the local lore, secret locations (to potentially photograph) etc. "Culture" grows on more than just asphalt, folks.

Well said. Likewise, I've learned living out here that these folk are lightning quick in human judgement. They can cull a phony out faster than fast. If you're real, you're usually welcome. I never pretend to be anything I'm not, I just show up with the cameras and tell the folks my intentions. No, I'm definitely not in the 'club', but in 44 seconds with that twinkle in their eyes and a couple of questions, they can find out #1, I'm not from the guv'ment, and #2 I'm not an asshole. After that you're usually fine. Funny how that works.

[Drew Wiley]

Everyone is a small town is either your best friend or your worst enemy. So one thing you can never predict as an outsider is where the lines to a feud lie. Make friends with one party, and automatically your an enemy of another. Have a salesman here (quite a skilled photographer himself) who was once held hostage four
days because, as a rural UPS driver way back when, he had committed the near-mortal crime of delivering a package to a particular ranch, then his next stop was
at an adjacent ranch feuding with the former. He never filed charges. Just came with the territory. I accidentally made the mistake of mentioning someone as an old friend to get credibility with a local, and nearly at the cost of my life found out the person I was talking to had a lifetime hate relation with them. Humans are very territorial, just like cats. I remember half the little town out for an old west shootout over a disputed grammar schoolboard election. Live ammo. The constable slowly talked them all down before any shots were fired. They all went home. End of story, though till the end of time they still hated each other.

[Dave Wooten]

Hmmm........ doesn't speak well of my efforts. I'm the preacher.

Lol! Well James,
The Lord works in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform!

[Jim Galli]

Everyone is a small town is either your best friend or your worst enemy. So one thing you can never predict as an outsider is where the lines to a feud lie. Make friends with one party, and automatically your an enemy of another. Have a salesman here (quite a skilled photographer himself) who was once held hostage four
days because, as a rural UPS driver way back when, he had committed the near-mortal crime of delivering a package to a particular ranch, then his next stop was
at an adjacent ranch feuding with the former. He never filed charges. Just came with the territory. I accidentally made the mistake of mentioning someone as an old friend to get credibility with a local, and nearly at the cost of my life found out the person I was talking to had a lifetime hate relation with them. Humans are very territorial, just like cats. I remember half the little town out for an old west shootout over a disputed grammar schoolboard election. Live ammo. The constable slowly talked them all down before any shots were fired. They all went home. End of story, though till the end of time they still hated each other.

Drew, me thinks you watch too much TV. We don't have any of the drama you describe here where I live. In fact I have to drive with one hand, wave with the other. Pretty nice place to live, and any time I go to the big city (Reno) I'm always glad to get back home.

[Leigh]

Don't try this with your 8X10. These hombre's are used to me. Anyone else........
well hopefully your camera is wood because it'll become 3 minutes of BTU's in the pot belly

So why would anyone patronize a hotel where the locals are likely to throw the camera in the stove?

- Leigh

[John Kasaian]

. I remember half the little town out for an old west shootout over a disputed grammar schoolboard election. Live ammo. The constable slowly talked them all down before any shots were fired. They all went home. End of story, though till the end of time they still hated each other.

Sounds like Taft in the 1960's. Or Reedley in the 1940's.

[Drew Wiley]

No TV, Jim. I grew up without either phones or TV's. My last serious run-in with sagebrush locals was with some polygamy cult cops in Utah. If I reminisced about even half the things I've actually seen growing up, well... And there are still pockets of that kind of thing, though in the old cowboy & Indian culture sense it's slowly fading away, probably forever, though a anti-govt mentality and suspicion of outsiders is still is strong in places. Entire books and novels have been written about that old neighborhood, and the stories actually had to be watered down to publish them, cause no outsider would even believe the full truth. Mostly friendly retired folks and upstarts to country living nowadays. The spooky folks are now the meth-heads and people involved in the rural drug industry itself, along with the inevitable corrupt law enforcement types. So one still needs to be careful out in the woods, esp lower down where there are a lot of backroads. Just common sense, that's all. See dudes with glazed over eyes or drinking, brandishing guns, time to move on. The more wilderness areas of the mtns, and parks per se, or
patrolled campgrounds, a different story. But Nevada? Never had a problem there except by getting ticketed by a crooked highway patrolman once, for running
a stop light almost a hundred miles from the nearest actual one. Out of state plates.