Is it a mistake for me to be your guide to Virginia City?
I know too much.
And over there, just outside that shop on the board sidewalk Bob McKinney was shot and killed by a Storey County deputy sheriff for brandishing a pen-knife. Bob’s mom had moved to Virginia City when he was in the Army but had died before he came ‘home’ . Over the years after he became a strange and forlorn figure who lived out in the sagebrush and annoyed some people by fishing through the trash barrels on C Street for food. The solution was to shoot him down in the street.
And I sat through the selling out of Gold Hill and giving up the Virginia City National Historic Landmark to pit mining without a qualm, for the benefit of the mining company.
How quaint is that?
I mention those things as a reminder that Virginia City is not a theme park or a movie set, and that the history we goggle over has never ended. This is a living community with real people living in it, some of them exhibiting the same unfortunate character flaws as the worst of the pioneers.
It’s hard to set all that aside and present Virginia City as simply a fascinating place, both for its astonishing history and for the unequalled collection of Victorian architecture and infrastructure left over for us to feast our eyes on. But I’ll try. The Court House itself is open during business hours for your inspection, with an elevator to bypass the steep stairs. It’s a beautiful building with high ceilings, affable employees and a peace officer museum toward the back.
In an effort to re-acquaint myself with the Virginia City awaiting visitors and block out the rest, Robin and Shorty and I made the drive there (one mile) early one morning in May and we discovered right away that people sleep late up there. The two coffee houses don’t open until 7 am and The Roasting House didn’t have enough customers to support a conversation until after 8.
And when the conversation did erupt, it was all about politics — not about the issues, but who was going to win the upcoming primary election. As two of the five people around the table were candidates facing elimination, this was not abstract speculation. A nice taste of drama to start the day . . . we don’t get that in Gold Hill.
While at The Roasting House I bought a copy of a booklet published by the Comstock Cemetery Foundation containing the selected obituaries of some of those buried in the Silver City, Gold Hill and Virginia City cemeteries. It is a curiously affecting souvenir from the past and provides a strong taste of the 19th century, before the AP Stylebook was drafted, when everything was personal. You’ll find two of the obituaries in a box further down the page.
What’s left of those glory years, apart from the structures that line the streets, has been put in museums, of which there are 16 in Virginia City. There were 17 until the Radio Museum closed recently, but 16 still seems like a lot, even when you’re welcoming a million visitors a year or more.
There is an aura of sadness about historical museums, it seems to me, with their emphasis on the vanished past, with everyday tools displayed behind glass, and pictures of the dead — whole families sometimes! — on the walls. There is no doubt that those people accomplished miracles, and a well-curated museum can be a big education in small things.
I am planning a museum crawl on Friday because on the First Friday of each month all 16 Museums in Virginia City waive their entrance fees, and I am going to give some of them a try.
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In the Prime of Life and Usefulness Dec 1 1869 Mrs. Bridget Curran, Aged about 45 years old got her hoops caught on the end of a shaft in the Sunderland mill lower Gold Hill about 10 1/2 o’clock today and wound round so tight that she was carried around 20 or 30 times, her head beating the floor every time. They had to stop the mill so as to get her loose, had to chop off the hoops with a hatchet. She was insensible and remained so till she died about 2 hours afterward. No bones were broken, died of concussion of the brain. Leaves a husband and 2 or 3 sons in Gold Hill. She went into the mill to get some condensed water from a barrel, where all the neighbors had the same privilege, good to wash or cook with, soft water. January 4, 1877 Twice Buried. Frankie Dall, who before her death was a woman of the town, died a natural death last Monday night in the house just north of the Imperial hoisting works. She was taken from that place by Wilson & Brown undertakers, and buried in a rough redwood box at the expense of the county. On Tuesday some of her old associates clubbed together and resolved to give the woman a decent burial. They took an express wagon and going to the graveyard dug up the unfortunate. The body was returned to the undertaking rooms of Wilson & Brown, where it was today laying in state. An elegant and expensive coffin has been purchased and the trappings of woe are as fine as can be procured. The outfit will cost $15. Tomorrow the second funeral will take place and it will no doubt be well attended. George Prior has taken a kindly interest in the matter, and has aided greatly in raising money to pay the necessary expenses. — Alexis Dillon, editor |
Father Meinecke rests here now himself, and the work he began continues under the auspices of the Comstock Cemetery Foundation.
By the time we were back on C Street ready for an early lunch at the Bonanza Cafe, I had scripted an ideal visit to Virginia City, which goes like this:
I believe there are nearly a dozen over the course of a year, and they add a festive quality to the day no matter what the occasion. They also add to the crowds and to the difficulty parking. Here is a list of Virginia City’s annual events.
Decide the date and book your room. And book your tickets for the V&T while you’re at it. You can choose from historic hotels and a nice modern one, B&Bs, motels, even an RV park. Here’s the list:
Arrive on a mid- to late Friday afternoon (this is the ideal; come when you can) and check in. The point is to get to town in time for a liesurely beginning to the evening ahead. Park your car and leave it; from now on you’re walking. Time for a nap? Take it.
Mythologized as it is by everyone who has tried to write about it, Virginia City invites you for a pre-prandial stroll through the city with some window shopping and perhaps a refreshment on the way to dinner which will be at the acclaimed Cafe Del Rio, one of our three
Up early? Roll over and drift back to dreamland; Virginia City especially likes to sleep in on Sundays. Eventually you will be hungry though, and you’ll find breakfast on C Street. We had biscuits and Gravy at a sidewalk table outside Virginia City Baked Goods, but here are some other choices, including a brunch at the Cafe Del Rio.
Make a stroll in the cemeteries your first order of business after breakfast and before the heat of the day, as there’s not much shade. I can’t imagine anyone wandering here without conjuring images of at least some of these people, and their lives here, as if phrases carved in stone could be clues to lives lived flesh-and-blood.
You’ll have your dinner planned by now, and have given some thought as to spending your Saturday night on the town. For a place with such a parade of questionable characters in its pantheon of pioneers (some of them quite violent), Virginia City’s nightlife seems mild and well-mannered now. Here’s the official list of saloons.
Drama has been a Virginia City specialty from before its beginning; the stories of the Grosh Brothers, Old Pancake, Joe Plato and Manny Penrod and other residents of Gold Canyon were being told before James Fenimore dropped his bottle of whiskey and rescued the moment by christening Virginia City with it.
Whenever you come, bring your curiosity and do your best to satisfy it while you’re here. By the time you drive away for home you’ll have stored a set of memories that will stay with you . . . forever?

