Why is There a Creepy Clown at the End of my Bed?

Dawn woke up early this morning. We are up and getting ready for the day to drive further yet into the wild blue yonder. I can barely move out from under the sheets. I could not believe my eyes when I looked at the clock and saw an unprecedented 5:00 AM. Surrealism is an understatement. I had no idea there was such a time in the morning too. 

Grumblings could be heard across the hotel room as Kylee, and I stumbled from our beds to put feet on the floor. I joined the 22-year-old woman's bitch-fest, "It's just not fair." The driving all day yesterday did me in and I didn't even sit behind the wheel. My ass was still numb, and my eyes could not and would not participate in the morning wake up task. It wasn't until I stubbed my once broken toe on the leg of the bed before I was fully awake.

But move we finally did. Once again, packing up the suitcases, dog, stroller, pillows, blankets, makeup bags, and other sundries, putting it all into the van. Ah, that poor van. We had made our home in the four compartments for the next couple of weeks in that van, bless its engine. About 20 minutes of cramming, jamming, and ramming crap into the space in the trunk area, we closed the door with hopes nothing was in the way of the mechanical door. We watched with fingers crossed as the door slowly closed. We made it. It's all in there. Now, nobody open any of the doors. 

Bella sat in the mid-section of the van, hoping to catch glimpses of anything happening outside. All she saw in the parking lot before takeoff was three women who were running around looking as though we had never packed a car before. But once on the road, when she realized there was nothing but bare land and no place to get out, she would lie down again and get her beauty rest. A 17-year-old girl has got to get her sleep. 

Off we went once again, through highways laid in the middle of brown fields of nothingness. I could tell we were getting closer to Nevada, known for their desert-type land. Miles and miles of desert land. It's beautiful, in its own way, but difficult for girls from Oregon to get too excited about. We are used to everything being green and evergreens growing out of the green. I have always felt that each state has a definition of itself in terms of scenery and landscape, but each is gorgeous in its own way too. It is nature's artwork and she does a mighty fine job of putting it all together!

Driving through the day, we finally arrived in the vicinity of Las Vegas, Nevada. We were passing through a sleepy little town of Tonopah, Nevada when Dawn yelled, "Oh, my God! There it is! I don't care how late we are; I have to stop here." 

I looked over to the side of the road and saw my worst nightmare. Well, besides a snake farm. It was a Clown Motel, graveyard, and a clown museum, all in one tiny area. I had no idea so much creepiness could be in one small spot. 

Dawn watches and listens to a podcast/show on TikTok called Paranosis. The show consists of three people, one guy and two women, who are ghost hunters. One of the places they love to go to stir up trouble is the Clown Motel, including the grave sites of many past Tonopah residents with stories behind all of their deaths, and the creepy little hole in the wall museum, where all interests are invested in clowns. Yes, clowns. Ugh. Here we go. 

This is a world-famous spot where ghost hunters and clown freaks love to come and stir up the spirits and colorful outfit wearing statues and doll-type clowns so that the rest of us have to deal with the anger. Sure. Great place to stop.

One thing I do love though are very old cemeteries and graves. Not because I am into creepy or scary, in fact, just the opposite. Rather it is to see what happened, historically, in this town and many other towns I've been in. Let's go check out who is who. 

 

Wow. This graveyard is old. 

The final resting place for so many. Sad. So much pain, suffering, and loss at such young ages. 

Yes, people are leaving beer by the site of "Big Bill," a town hero in his own right. 

The Old Tonopah Cemetery was created in 1901 and was used until 1911, when it was closed to any new burials. It's the historic early-20th-century pioneer and miner graveyard, featuring weathered markers. Tonopah does have a modern cemetery as well. 

This cemetery serves as a stark time capsule of the harsh realities, disease outbreaks, and violent occurrences of a turn-of-the-century Nevada silver mining boomtown. Nearly 300 pioneers, miners, and children have lovingly been laid to rest here, many marked with blunt epitaphs stating their cause of death, such as "Dynamite," or "Murdered."

The most famous stories behind the people buried in this graveyard reflect the wild, often tragic nature of the frontier life. One such story is that of William "Big Bill" Murphy. Bill is still the most revered local hero in Tonopah history. On February 23, 1911, a devastating fire broke out 1,666 feet deep inside the Tonopah-Belmont mine. At just 28 years old, Bill, who operated a local mine cafe, volunteered to ride the mine cage down into the suffocating, smoke-filled shaft to rescue trapped workers. 

He successfully completed two trips, bringing cages full of rescued miners safely back to the surface. Despite being entirely exhausted and breathing in toxic fumes, he learned that a semi-conscious miner had fallen out of the cage on the last ascent. 

Bill's final words were, "Well boys, I've made two trips and I'm nearly all in, but I'll try again." Bill descended a third time but never returned. He and 16 other men lost their lives that day. His weathered grave reads: "Died while saving others."

Well, Big Bill, you enjoy those beers. You deserve it after your unselfish acts of bravery. Good on you. 

Walking through the cemetery made me sad. I was thinking of all of these folks, trying to work, live, and make it like we all do, when a collapse of a mine, illnesses including those who suffered the "Tonopah Plague." This plague took the lives of many. The current outlook is it was probably some type of pneumonia or black leg. Whatever it can be labeled, it swept through the unhygienic, crowded mining camp and killed dozens of residents in a matter of weeks. 

Leonard Black, an 11-year-old boy, whose vibrant purple headstone tells a common tale of frontier danger. In 1909 he fell off a heavy freight wagon loaded with three tons of grain and was run over. 

George "Devil" Davis was Tonopah's first African American political leader and a notorious town prankster. His life came to a violent end when his wife shot him in the back. She served only one year in prison after the community testified to the extensive abuse she had endured from him. Hey, sister. Whatever it takes. 

Bina Verrault was a clever and elegant New York City woman who made national headlines after she and a friend allegedly enacted a scheme to marry wealthy men and become rich widows. When a massive financial scandal broke out, she fled across the country to hide from the law in the remote mining camp of Tonopah, where she eventually died. 

Then there is the tale of Sheriff Thomas Logan, a widely respected Nye County sheriff. In 1906, he was shot and killed outside a brothel in the nearby town of Manhattan, Nevada, while trying to disarm an unruly gambler and protect others. 

Last but not least is the 1911 Tonopah-Belmont Mine fire that still remains one of the most tragic and infamous disasters in Nevada's mining history. Occurring on the morning of February 23, 1911, it is the fire that resulted in the deaths of at least 17 miners and Big Bill. 

There was a delayed evacuation when Superintendent T.F.M Fitzgerald initially underestimated the fire. A full evacuation was delayed while they attempted to isolate the fire by building a temporary canvas wall. Orders to evacuate the mine was delivered slowly and haphazardly. In the confusion, underground air currents suddenly reversed. This unexpectantly funneled a wall of deadly gas directly into previously safe shafts where miners were still working or waiting to escape. 

But the horror did not end there. There was an aftermath cover up when the scope of the tragedy became clear, senior officials attempted to downplay and conceal the true death toll from the public. This sparked immense fury among local union miners and grieving families, nearly inciting riots and vigilante violence in the streets of Tonopah. No official charges were ever filed; however, a massive inquest was launched. By the end of the inquest, the public backlash from the tragedy ultimately served as a historical turning point, forcing Western mining corporations to implement stricter ventilation regulations and formal safety protocols. 

Many of the 17 victims, including cage operator and hero, "Big Bill" Murphy, are buried together under weathered wooden stakes at the Old Tonopah Cemetery. A dedicated bronze statue of Big Bill Murphy stands outside the Tonopah Post Office on Main Street, to ensure his final descent is never forgotten. 

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The post will end here, moving the Clown Motel photos and stories to the next post. Thank you for reading the blog.