Take one small girl and dump her in the middle of a tough mining camp around the turn of the century and what do you get?

 

The answer is one tough little girl.

 

Carrie Colvin Cheney, the daughter of a restless prospector and carpenter, grew up in an assortment of mining and oil towns in Colorado, Nevada and California between the late 1800's and early 1900's.

 

She was the youngest child in a family that included four boys and she was her father's favorite. Big Bill Colvin was a clever man who knew when to move on, often with a little help from the law. His daughter, now in her 80's recalled that she was often conned into being his cohort in legal and illegal ventures in that rough, dusty era.

 

"He sorted ore at the mines for awhile and I used to take lunches to him and a couple of others. I'd wear this big straw hat and ride into the mine on a dumper. They would have all these gold nuggets hidden in their pockets. Then, they'd put them under my hat and I'd just walk away. I was always a thief," the old lady chuckled.

 

"Everybody did it. It was called 'high grading' in those days. After awhile, they made the men undress before they left because it got so bad. I thought that was terrible, but they never got me."

 

The Colvins always had money, though not necessarily through Big Bill's pilfering from various mining operations.  All of the family members worked hard in different jobs, ranging from running a candy shop to a restaurant.

 

The children were raised in all kinds of mining towns, each settled according to a pattern rarely broken after the family left their native Kansas.

 

Big Bill, a strapping man well over six feet, headed out and established himself in whatever mining camp. He proceeded to stake out three lots; one for a home, one for a rooming house his wife would run, and one for his furniture or general store. Though his heart was in mining, he was an excellent carpenter, and did the cabinets at the Goldfield Hotel, at one point in his life.

 

Following at Colvin's heels would be the other members of the family, once he sent for them. Carrie and her mother ran "rooming houses" wherever they went.

 

" And we moved a lot," she said. "We'd hear of a gold strike somewhere and just pick up and go".

 

These rooming houses were huge tents up to 100 feet long, with individual quarters divided by canvas walls. The price was not particularly cheap, $1 an hour, a hefty sum in those days. But this was the mining era, when "everybody had money."

 

Boarders could eat a meal at Matilda Colvin's, and five gallons of precious water was available for 75 cents. If the miners intended to drink the water, it was first filtered through charcoal or cloth.

 

"We didn't wash our clothes or selves much," Carrie laughed, while recounting the housing situation.

 

As organized as the family's moving pattern sounds, there was often a slight hang-up in the plans; Big Bill used to disappear for undetermined lengths of time.

Bill Colvin had a genius for getting run out of town. He was very fond of claim jumping, a practice he continued while working for a land office. This often resulted in a necessity to leave town and hide out.

 

He was good provider, though and never touched a drop of liquor --- a rarity for a member of the mining population. Bill faithfully sent $100 a month to the family during his long absences, but god only knew where the money was coming from since Bill could never write an accompanying letter detailing his whereabouts, for fear of being found.

 

Traveling Plan II went into effect when Big Bill vanished. Matilda would get fed up waiting for him to send for the clan, so she packed up the family and headed out for the miner's last known residence. Then, they began to track Big Bill down. Somehow, they always found him, or he heard they were around.

 

This is exactly how the family arrived in Reno, the first of many towns they passed through during their years in Nevada.

 

"I forget why, but he was hiding out for a long time. A Chinese used to bring food to him out in the rocks and sand dunes. We arrived in Reno and slept three days and nights on benches in the depot because they wouldn't rent rooms to kids. Finally, an old shoemaker gave us room," Carrie said.

 

The old man was one of many memorable characters the colvins encountered during their travels.

"He had a beard down to here," Carrie said, pointing to her knees. " It was all white and he kept it braided. He lived all by himself and on Sundays he unbraided that beard and went to church all dressed up."

 

The shoemaker housed the family until Big Bill Colvin's hideout was discovered. But, there was one time that rascal was gone so long the family thought they had lost him permanently.

 

This occurred while the family was living in Goldfield, the last of the mining towns in which they lived in Nevada.

 

Carrie said, "We had an aunt in Santa Barbara. Well, my mother got tired of waiting for him and got real mad, so she gave all or stuff to the Indians and we up and left for Santa Barbara," leaving Big Bill Colvin to find THEM for once.

 

He eventually did.

 

"My mother was working as a dressmaker for a French lady and we hadn't heard from Dad for a long time. One dark night there was a man at the door asking if the Colvin's lived here. We said 'yes', and were going to shut the door on him when he cried, 'Don't you know me?'"

 

"I said 'no'," but he said, 'I'm your Dad, I'm Big Bill.'  Well we just didn't believe him because it had been such a long time and he didn't look right. He'd shaved off his moustache and his hair was scruffy. We finally let him in, though," Carried, laughed.

 

It is presumed that Bill Colvin made a greater effort to keep in contract with his wife after that incident.

 

The Colvin's lived about 10 years in Nevada, roughly 1900 to 1910. Carrie was a child of 7 when they arrived, and a young woman when they left, having spent most of her formative years and adolescence in the desert mining towns.

 

Since Big Bill wasn't around much, the children's upbringing was left largely to Matilda Colvin, a kind, petite woman who only spoke when she had something to say and had a soft spot for the Indians, whom she often fed.

 

Carrie claims to have raised herself -- "We done as we pleased" -- as a tomboy, a real hellion.

 

"My brothers weren't wild at all. One of them took an oath never to drink, swear or chew tobacco, I never did like him," she cackled gaily.

 

Carrie was always one for animals. It was difficult to keep cats in mining camps, particularly kittens. Somehow, they always disappeared. However, Carrie usually had a cat or dog on hand. One old miner had a mean dog that used tear up pets, including one of Carrie's cats.

 

The young girl carefully plotted revenge against the miner, who refused to keep the animal out of town.

 

In the candy store that she and her brother ran, she dumped her current pet, a wild baby bobcat. The dog's eyes lit up as he spotted the feline and began to move toward it. Carrie ran back to the rear of the store, watching the encounter from a safe distance. After a great deal of howling, she finally opened the door to let the beaten dog out of the store. He was covered in blood, with his skin cut in ribbons. The dog never came back to town after that.

 

Most of the time Carrie would much rather have been out rounding up burros to rent and sell, or "wild buckskins", which she had a passion for. She often rode with the Indians, with whom she struck up friendships everywhere she went. When school let out at the end of the day, she came out to find her loyal burro, Zillah, patiently waiting outside for her.

 

The parents wanted their children to be educated despite their primitive surroundings; Big Bill hired various tutors and teachers to travel around with the children, schooling them.

 

If there were over seven people in a school group, this constituted a classroom, and the state would foot the cost. Carrie Colvin Cheney has vivid memories of local Indians being rounded up for the classes, along with her brothers and herself, so they could meet the state's quota. There were few, if any, children in mining towns.

 

Because she was the lone schoolgirl, Carrie often took her lessons separately. The crafty child easily manipulated her young female teachers.

 

"All I'd do to get rid of them was get one a good-looking boyfriend and pay her off with some money. Then I'd go off riding or rounding up burros. I didn't get much schooling cause I was always tied up in some kind of mischief," Carrie grinned.

 

Young Carrie's corrupting influence extended itself beyond her household. When she was about 13, she was responsible for the abrupt departure of one of the few other girls in the mining camps.

 

"She was the daughter of one of my father's partners and she'd been raised in a convent. This was the time of the Gans-Nelson fight in Goldfield and I wanted to go to the fight but I was supposed to stay with this girl. Well, it just broke my heart; I had to see that fight and said I was going. She said, "Oh no you're not", but I dragged her along with us. We stood in the aisle and watched for three hours in the hot sun when we were suppose to be home.

 

"On the way home from the fight, we got caught by her father, Mr. Lamb, Oh, he put her on a stage and sent her back to the convent fast as anything," Carrie laughed.

 

Carrie was never held up as a shinning example of what young womanhood should be, but she drew the line at a certain point.

 

Nightlife in mining camps was more or less what one would expect. At midnight, the "nice" townspeople would leave the street and the red light girls would take over. Carrie's mother made dresses for these women. but refused to speak to them or recognize them socially. She forbade Carrie to do so, but with her usual sense of filial duty, Carrie ignored her mother's instructions.

 

"After we ate dinner, we kept my Dad's store open, but he let me run it, I'd be in there all by myself and all the red light girls would come in and tell me why I ought to be a good girl always, and how to grow up fine. They all did that. The girls took over the whole town and saloons at midnight. It was the same in all the mining camps."

 

"I remember across the street in Lida was a saloon and one of those girls who was about my size lived in back. I used to see her putting on this beautiful red dress. I just loved that dress and wanted to steal it so bad, but my mother wouldn't let me. I've always liked red to this day and it's because of that dress."

 

Carrie said that the hookers really dressed no differently from the "respectable" women, Everyone wore gingham dresses, but the red light girls cut off the arms of theirs to make them sleeveless, and they split the dresses up the sides to show off their legs.

 

Carrie was a good businesswoman at an early age, she and her brothers not only rented out animals and ran a small candy store, but they found the poor postal service to be another source of income. The youngsters used to make money picking up letters for the miners. Mail didn't come to often and when it did, people were often forced to wait in line for the several hours to obtain their correspondence. Carrie found that she could easily pick up some quick money by waiting in line for various people, charging them $1 for every letter she procured.

 

The Colvin's lived in Lida just about the longest of any place in Nevada, from around 1902-1905.

 

There were not many women in the mining camps, including the red light girls. However, Carrie remembered one lonely, lovely lady who lived next door to them in Palmetto.

 

No one knew much about the woman or her husband, except that they had come from Alaska, and had money, it was understood that no questions were asked of anyone in those days.

 

"He never allowed her out of the house or yard, He was a saloon keeper and had brought her from Nome, after he built a house for her. Wooden houses were very rare in those days. She was terribly unhappy. I don't think she liked it here and she hadn't wanted to come in the first place. She was lonely and couldn't talk to anyone," Carrie recalled.

 

"I was just a little girl and I used to talk to her over the fence and help her get away sometimes. You know, I don't even know if they were married."

 

The woman had long blond-brown hair that she swept up on top of her head. She was reputed to have the finest clothes and jewelry in town, for all the good they did her.

 

"She wore mostly white and lots of diamonds he had given her. She was very beautiful, but he really kept her jailed up," Carrie continued.

 

The couple lived in Palmetto a year or so and then moved on about the same time the Colvin's left the town. Some time later the family heard that the woman been shot to death by her spouse, in Goldfield, but no one knew why.

 

"We never found out how but no one ever did, then. People just killed you and no one talked or asked questions." Carrie said.

 

The Colvin's were among those who provided entertainment for the isolated mining camps. Big Bill played the banjo and his friend Joe played the fiddle every Saturday night at the local dances.

 

"Joe used to play while he was asleep," Carrie claimed. "At the end of a song, he would nod and wake up."

 

When they lived in Lida, Carrie was another source of entertainment, much to her chagrin.

 

The family ran a drug store of sorts, selling candy, newspapers and other small items. Each month the Colvin's laid out $100 for the Chronicle and Examiner, but the subscribers would never pay up. This drove Carrie mad and forced her to fetch Tasker L. Oddie, at that time a lawyer, for a trial.

 

"The whole thing was a pain. I always had to collect from the saloons because my brother had taken an oath about never setting foot in a saloon. So, we would all go over to Oddie's wooden house and he'd act as judge, my brother and I always won, of course, because we were right. But we went through this every month. The whole town turned out for the trial. They deliberately didn't pay because having the trial gave everyone something to do."

 

The same "judge" gave Carrie and her mother their first ride in a motorcar.

 

"We went out on an alkali flat and Momma was scared to death. We were only going about 10 miles an hour but she made him stop," Carrie said.

After the Colvin's left Lida, they lost track of Tasker Oddie. The next time they heard of him, he was governor of the state of Nevada. Carrie said that she found this amusing since she had always suspected his residency in Lida was due to a necessity to "hide out form some crooked dealings".

 

They hit a few towns after Lida, but the next big move was to Goldfield. It was the last town they really occupied for any length of time before Matilda Colvin became disgusted with her mate and whipped the family off to California.

 

Carrie learned a good deal about mining and prospecting in Goldfield and Lida from her father.

 

"Where he went, I went," she stated. The girl often helped him put up claim location notices in cans in the desert. Because she was friendly with so many of the miners, they often staked a claim for her when they staked one for themselves.

 

"Maybe I'm a millionaire now," Carrie laughed, while recounting this, "I don't know."

 

This was not uncommon. Whenever someone thought they might be hitting a big strike, they would stake a few claims for everyone

 

Carrie became a "lady" in goldfield, meaning that she had a coming-out party, which was a "dinger"; She was 13 and the famous Death Valley Scotty Threw the party for her.

 

The friendship with Death Valley Scotty grew out of a service she performed for him; she rented him her cat.

 

"He liked me for that. Everyone had these big, awful rats and he used to borrow my cat. Everyone knew Scotty but no one liked him much because he was a loner and a crook. He always had gold bricks, but carried no money when I knew him. He wouldn't let anyone look under his wagon cover and no one knew where he lived. I used to watch him disappear as he went over the top of a mountain without any trace. Years later, my daughter and I found a hideout where I think he went. I'm pretty sure he was a stage robber and that's where he got a lot of his gold."

 

For the party celebrating her entrance into womanhood, Scotty provided all kinds of food and lots of champagne; the popular party drinks even then. Carrie's mother dressed her in her first white party blouse and dark shirt. Scotty gave her a ring he had made for her with a pick and a shovel on it. She lost the ring years ago when a man she knew threw it away to help her become "civilized."

 

Carrie recalled walking down the street in the new outfit with her mother. She passed some of the many Indians she had grown up with and ridden with in the desert, some of whom her father had paid to have educated back east. 

 

"I was going to ignore them but my mother grabbed me and said, "you lived with them, now you go talk to them." I was so ashamed."

 

Except for these personal parties, the only real celebration that the entire town participated in was the 4th of July. Christmas and holidays were fairly private affairs.

 

"The Independence days were pretty rough. We always had a queen and I was queen one year and sat on this big platform with my two dogs. But the dogs got in a big fight and I had to jump off the platform and separate them. It wasn't very dignified.

 

"Mostly, everyone would get Drunk and set off fireworks. There were two mountains close by and at the end of the day, the men would load tons of dynamite and shoot that off in the mountains. It made a terrific explosion."

 

Sometimes these affairs, or the usual Saturday night brawls ended up in loss of life. There wasn't much chance for disease to strike them down. Death was usually by the gun and funerals were as rowdy as holidays.

"Oh, everybody fought at the drop of a hat, to pass the time. Nothing else to do. Someone would challenge someone else, everyone would bet money and bang they'd go. There used to be a priest who came by every now and then. If someone had died, we would lay them out in the front room, say a prayer and that was it. You'd take them out and bury 'em, sing a song and then everyone would have races to see who got home the fastest."

 

After the Colvin's left Nevada, their roamings did not cease. Having gotten in on the mining boom in Nevada, they were timely enough to get in on the oil boom in Bakersfield and Taft, California. It was there that Carrie met her husband, Milt Cheney, a musician, Her Children are now scattered between the two states, and one son, and Harry works as a pressman for the RJ.

 

Big Bill lived until he was up in his nineties, managing to elude the law and death longer than most. Matilda Colvin died in her fifties, in Taft.

 

"She had the only bush in Taft and when she died. So did the bush," Carrie said.

 

Currently, Carrie lives in Huntington Beach, and occasionally visits Las Vegas to see family.