The History of Every Old West Ghost Town

Remnants of the old silver mining town of Shafter in the Big Bend.

All over Texas and the West once flourished towns that lived fast and died young. We call them ghost towns.

Many books have been written about the more notable of these once-upon-a-time places like Tombstone, Ariz., Bodie, Calif., Bannack, Mont., Shakespeare, NM, Virginia City, Nev., Tascosa, Tex., and numerous others. If you don’t have time to absorb a young library of books, Texas Magazine offers the following handy, fill-in-the-blank history of every Old West ghost town:

In the beginning, an eccentric character named [fill in the blank] discovers [a) gold, b) silver, c) copper, d) coal or e) oil] where it was not thought to exist. The finder files a claim but either a) gets killed by Indians, b) cheated out of his stake, or c) sells it cheap before he realizes any significant profit.

Whatever the fate of the discoverer, the word is nevertheless out. Mass human departures termed “rushes” (as in the California Gold Rush) and instant camps or towns soon follow.

But there are other driving factors in the development of future ghost towns:

· Non-mining boom towns spring up like rain lilies around newly established frontier military garrisons. Why? “Patriotic” newcomers wish to profit off the sale of supplies and produce to the Army and are eager to boost soldier morale by providing alcohol and female companionship. For a price, of course.

· Another new town scenario has to do with the laying of railroad tracks across a previously undeveloped area. Trains bring people and goods. Outbound trains ship cattle to Eastern markets. A railhead draws hundreds of Texas cowboys and tens of thousands of longhorns. Accordingly, [name of town] bellows out of the chute like a bucking bull.

All that remains of the railroad boomtown of Vinegarroon in far West Texas.

Whatever the spark, [name of town’s] population grows exponentially. Soon hundreds of people fill the streets, then thousands. When it rains, or the snow melts, those streets become quagmires. Horseback riders on Main Street can only be detected by their hats moving across the mud, man and steed submerged. (Well, that’s what old-timers will recall.)

Despite all the frenetic, around-the-clock activity, someone has to slow down long enough to come up with a name for the boomtown. Catchy names like Tombstone are best, but anything will do because [name of town] is likely to have two or three names before one finally sticks.

In [name of town] saloons, gambling halls and brothels outnumber general stores, hotels, livery stables, blacksmith shops, and other enterprises. Someone starts a newspaper with the proverbial “shirttail of type” to capitalize on the boom.

Every famous Western outlaw will pass through [name of town] to rob the stagecoach, loot the bank or just kill one or two people “as the result of a difficulty.” At minimum, every famous Western outlaw spends some time in [name of town] raising hell.

At some point in a future ghost town’s early history, dentist Doc Holliday—a tubercular human tumbleweed—shows up to see to the community’s oral hygiene and “extract” money at the gaming table.

With a murder said to occur at least once a day, [name of town] becomes known as “the wickedest city in the West.” Amazingly, later-day researchers will wonder why, despite [name of town’s] awful reputation, the local newspaper seemed to have known of only a few killings, albeit some notable shootouts.

Regardless of the true murder rate, the first person to die violently has to be buried. The local undertaker, or perhaps one of the dearly departed’s drinking buddies, looks around for a high piece of ground a little way out of town and plants him there. Since no self-respecting boomtown denizen would die sans boots, the graveyard becomes known as Boot Hill. No matter that every other Old West boom town has its own Boot Hill.

The cemetery grows as fast as the town as debauchery, robbery and murder run rampant. Other than the danger presented by the lead in the air, town boosters celebrate the health benefits of [name of town’s] salubrious climate.

Alas, something must be done to make [name of town] a respectable, law-abiding community. Accordingly, a group of anonymous concerned citizens organize a vigilance committee and begin lynching undesirables. Nothing personal. If trees are not available, rafters or telegraph poles will do. Lesser miscreants are advised to leave [name of town] before sundown on penalty of lynching.

Of course, any scofflaw who actually makes it to the calaboose is soon sprung by friends in a procedure involving guns, horses and strong ropes referred to generically back in the day as a “jail delivery.”

Meanwhile, following the first few newspaper accounts of vigilante activity, those who perpetrated it are shocked, shocked that such a thing would happen in [name of town.] Town fathers begin a search for a tall, brave man with a reputation for skill with his fists and six-shooter who will “tame” [name of town.]

A town-tamer is duly hired, but he and one or two of his deputies are quickly killed in the line of duty or resign as soon as they see how bad things really are in [name of town.] Some officers find cattle theft or bank robbery more lucrative than law enforcement, but they usually end up with a suspended sentence from which no appeal can be sought.

Finally, Will Bill Hickok, Bat Masterson, Wyatt Earp or Pat Garret is retained and soon [name of town] has been cleaned up. But Boot Hill continues to fill, mostly with people killed by Hickok, Masterson, Earp or Garrett. Or so the story goes.

Of all the madams operating their pleasure palaces in [name of town], one of them will have a heart of gold. Regularly paying her fines for running a brothel, she becomes a pillar of the community. She helps the needy. Her daughter will become a nun.

At the height of its boom, [name of town] catches fire and while most of its commercial buildings are destroyed, [name of town] rises Phoenix-like from the ashes. Most of the new buildings are stone or brick.

Just when [name of town] is doing well, residents of some other community in the county decide they want the county seat. Knowing that the loss of the courthouse likely would kill their town, those in favor of retaining county seat status will begin killing those who’ve been politicking for the move. Eventually, parties from the wannabe county seat raid the courthouse in the rival community of [name of town] and remove all records to the “rightful” seat of local government.

Still, all is well in [name of town] so long as money continues to be made. But then economic disaster strikes. The mining plays out, the railhead extends to the next town and the cowboys and cattle herds disappear. Oil boom towns reach the figurative bottom of the barrel when the surrounding field dries up. Assuming [name of town] has been designated as a county seat, even that status can’t save it when all the jobs evaporate.

So everyone leaves [name of town]. Only a few stubborn old-timers stay put. All the false front wooden buildings not previously destroyed by fire as well as the replacement structures slowly fall to ruin. But no one cares. The money and the people are gone. Boot Hill becomes a desolate, abandoned cemetery with weeds higher than its tombstones.

Despite the fact that all the money dried up, the story spreads that some of the long-departed townspeople—or perhaps the outlaws—forgot they had buried a fortune in gold or silver in or around [name of town.] Modern day prospectors equipped with metal detectors, picks and shovels begin showing up hoping to find these lost riches. While they may find a few sun-purpled vintage whiskey bottles, the fabled treasure of [name of town] remains to be located.

In time, especially for the more substantial arrays of ruins, comes a resurrection of sorts.

A half-century or so after the death of [name of town], it occurs to the chamber of commerce of the nearest surviving town that money can be made by luring tourists to visit what’s left of [name of town.] They began promoting the happy proximity to their community of a shore ‘nuf, genuine Old West ghost town. This also is true for long abandoned forts.

Newspaper reporters and writers of books begin visiting these venerable venues to interview the surviving elderly men and women who stayed on after the boom went bust.

Amazingly, the peak population of [name of town] continues to grow with each telling of its story. (To derive the most accurate heyday head count for [name of town], take the largest reputed boom-era population, divide by half and subtract 25 percent.) Contrary to human physiology, the older that the aged hangers on get, the more they remember about all the hijinks and gunfights that went on during the boom. Indeed, their memory has sharpened to such an extent that they are able to recall with remarkable clarity things that never happened.

Shoot, when pressed it often turns out they were even pals with Wild Bill Hickok, Bat Masterson, Wyatt Earp, Pat Garrett and if the ghost town is in New Mexico, Billy the Kid.

The [name of town] old-timers eventually fade away, but by then [name of town] has long since achieved immortality as a once wild and wooly Old West town. Its best days lie ahead as a tourist destination

If you enjoyed this no-charge read, I hope you’ll become a paid Texas Magazine subscriber. As the great word man Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) so famously said, “No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money.” As best I can tell, my skull has no straight angles.