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Archive for February, 2020

Halfway, Oregon (Revisited)

Posted by graywacke on February 27, 2020

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-a-week blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some relatively recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2474; A Landing A Day blog post number 911

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (N44o 56.162’, W117o 1.120’) puts me in northeast Oregon:

My local landing map shows two landings:  today’s and one from March 2017:

My streams only map shows that I landed in the watershed of Long Branch, on to Pine Creek (2nd hit); to the Snake River (87th hit):

Quoting from the March 2017 post (and changing the “hit” number from 168 to 182):

As 93 out of 100 of my readers know, the Snake makes its way to the Columbia (182nd  hit).  The 7 remaining readers just learned something.

Pine Creek discharges into the Snake near the town of Oxbow.  Here’s an oblique GE shot that shows the Pine Creek Valley, and includes my landing:

Once again borrowing from my previous post:

Speaking of Oxbow, I found Street View coverage of Pine Creek near Oxbow, just before it loses itself in the belly of the Snake:

Obviously, I have re-visited my previous Halfway post, and I have decided to go all in (not just halfway) with my visitation.  I read my almost-three-year-old discussion of how Halfway got its name, and thoroughly enjoyed it.  While I remembered the gist, I had forgotten most of the details. 

I was so delighted with my re-reading, I have decided to present it again, in full.  I know, I know, I could have just referenced the previous Halfway post, saying it’s great, and just enter “Halfway” into the search box to enjoy it. 

But if you are like me, you almost certainly wouldn’t do that.  However, if a portion of that post were incorporated herein, it is much more likely that my readership (all 17 of you), will read – and enjoy this. 

My only request is that you don’t skim.  It’s worth the few extra minutes to actually pay attention! 

Here we go (and I’m going to forgo my usual italics when I’m borrowing from a previous post):

From the Halfway town website:

The town is located “halfway” between the communities of Pine and Cornucopia.

Good thing the word “halfway” is in quotes!  I mean, really!   Look at the map:

AYKM??  In what universe does “halfway” mean really close to Pine (less than 2 miles) and really far from Cornucopia (almost 10 miles)?  There must be a story behind the story.  Wiki gives us a clue:

This town took its name from the location of its post office, on the Alexander Stalker ranch, halfway between Pine and Cornucopia.  While a post office was established in 1887, in 1907 the town was platted in another location [way further south, evidently]; the post office moved there in 1908.

OK, I guess.  I did a search for the Alexander Stalker ranch, but only found circular references to the town of Halfway.  But look at this GE shot:

Hmmm.  Carson pops up on GE, but is nowhere to be found on StreetAtlas.  Interesting that Carson is just a little north of halfway between Cornucopia & Pine.  So, it seems like the mysterious Alexander Stalker ranch might have been a little south of Carson.

Wiki on Carson:

In 1870 Tom Corson settled in the area on a tributary of Pine Creek.  His neighbors pronounced his name “Carson” and named the tributary and a sawmill on the creek after him.  When a post office was established here in 1893, it was named “Carson” as well.  The town was platted in 1900, the first in Pine Valley.

Let’s sort this out.  Here’s the timeline:

1887:  a post office was established somewhere between Pine & Cornucopia – rumored to be halfway between Pine & Cornucopia, perhaps at the Alexander Stalker ranch.

1893:  a post office was established in Carson, which just happens to be about halfway between Pine & Cornucopia.

Now wait a second.  It’s hard to imagine that there was a Post Office within a few miles of Carson, and then a separate post office was established in Carson!  In fact, this goes beyond “hard to image,” bumping into “ain’t no way!”

ALAD will make it official:  This whole thing about “halfway between Pine & Cornucopia” is bunk.  We all need another, more plausible story.  Let me roll up my sleeves . . .

I’ll start with Pine:  The “town” of Pine is nothing.  Nada.  Isn’t now, never has been.  Of course, I Googled Pine Oregon, and the only – I repeat the only – Pine Oregon reference I could find anywhere is Wiki.  Here is the entire entry:

Pine is an unincorporated community in Baker County, Oregon, United States.  It lies along Oregon Route 86 about 2.3 miles southeast of the city of Halfway, and beside Pine Creek, a tributary of the Snake River.

That’s it!  And let me say again – there’s nothing else on the internet about this so-called town.

Let’s take a closer GE look (and don’t be distracted that GE strangely misplaced the “Pine” label).

It is likely that Pine was never platted, never had a post office and was never anything much more substantial than what you see in the above GE shot.  So why would Pine be used as the southern anchor of the expression, “halfway between Pine and Cornucopia?”

I get Cornucopia.  It was a thriving mining boomtown back in the 1890s (platted in 1886).  But Pine?  Fuhgettaboutit.

So, let’s look at a StreetAtlas map:

Well, well, well.  What about Richland?  Halfway is about halfway between Richland and Cornucopia.  From Wiki:

Richland was platted in 1897 and replaced New Bridge as the primary rural service center in the area.

Hmmm.  1897 doesn’t quite work, since the Halfway story starts in 1887.  But what about New Bridge?

New Bridge doesn’t show up on StreetAtlas, but once again, it does show up on GE:

So.  What does Wiki have to say about New Bridge?

New Bridge was founded on the banks of Eagle Creek near an important bridge built across the stream in pioneer times (the “new bridge”).  Joseph Gale was the first postmaster of New Bridge post office, which ran from 1878 until 1967.  [So New Bridge was founded 9 years before Halfway.  Makes sense . . . ]

New Bridge had a fruit and vegetable cannery, a box factory, and a packing shed for apples.  New Bridge was platted in 1908, only after irreversible decline had set in, due in part to nearby Richland being platted in 1897.

Good enough for ALAD (and way better than that Pine nonsense).  New Bridge was a substantial town back when they opened the Halfway post office.   

Here’s my version of the story (and I’m stickin’ to it):

The original Halfway post office (founded in 1887) wasn’t in the current town location but was located a little to the north (certainly not at all close to Carson).  The Post Office was named Halfway, because of its location approximately halfway between Cornucopia and that bustling little town to the south, New Bridge.

When in 1907 the post office moved to the newly platted town a little to the south, the town, of course, became Halfway.

Just substitute New Bridge for Pine and it all makes sense; it all hangs together. 

Just for the record:  I could find no “deep” source that discusses the Halfway name origin.  The oldest source I could find (footnoted in Wiki) is a 1958 book by Winifred and Armond Moyer entitled “The Origins of Unusual Placenames.”  Here’s the entirety of the text about Halfway:  “The town was midway between Pine and the Cornucopia gold mine in pioneer days.” 

That’s not enough to change my mind.  I’m guessing some local person (way back in the day), actually wrote a little something about the history of Halfway.  He or she may well have realized that Halfway was actually halfway between Richland and Cornucopia, but then realized that the Halfway post office pre-dated Richland, so Richland couldn’t be the southern anchor.  New Bridge was long gone, and this hypothetical person wasn’t even aware of its prior existence.  Shrugging his or her shoulders, he or she simply decided that the southern anchor of Halfway had to be Pine. 

The mistake has lived on for decades.  I fear that A Landing A Day doesn’t have the oomph to rewrite the history books . . .

My earlier Halfway post actually goes on to cover three more topics:  The nearby 45th Parallel (marking the halfway point between the North Pole and the equator); the fact that Halfway was briefly known as Half.com as part of an internet marketing scheme; and surfing in Half Moon Bay, California (because Half Moon Bay was also in the running to be renamed Half.com).  It’s all good (including a great video of big wave surfing).  But don’t worry, I’m not repeating it here.

In fact, I’m going to shut this post down.  But what the heck, I’ll once again head back to my earlier post. 

It’s time for some local GE Pano shots (most taken in the Pine Creek valley).  I’ll start with this by DonWadkins:

Here are three by long-time ALAD contributor Ralph Maughan:

I’ll close with this, by Tony Immoos:

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2020 A Landing A Day

 

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Rea, New Hampton, Bethany, Conception (etc.), Missouri

Posted by graywacke on February 20, 2020

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-a-week blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some relatively recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2473; A Landing A Day blog post number 910

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (N40o 11.516’, W94o 20.549’) puts me in northwest Missouri:

Before moving on to my local landing map, I’ll linger for a moment on the above map.  Missouri ranks first in the nation in one important aspect:  more states touch Missouri (8) than touch any other state..  (OK, so Missouri is tied with Tennessee.)

My local landing shows a VP* of towns, ranging in size from teeny to small:

*Veritable Plethora

Full Disclosure:  I was going to feature Ford City (it’s circled on the above map).  I changed my mind . . . 

My streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of Jones Branch, on to the Grand River (7th hit):

Zooming back, this map tells the rest of the story:

The Grand flows to (what else?) the Missouri (440th hit); on to the MM (956th hit).

Moving over to Google Earth (GE), I managed to convince the Orange Dude to wander up a country road to a point about a mile from my landing:

And here’s what he sees:

I then nudged him north about a half-mile, where that same road crosses Jones Branch.  Here’s his view from the bridge looking north:

As is my wont, I rolled up my sleeves and did the Google/Wiki thing with all these little towns.  I didn’t come up empty, but I’ll tell you there ain’t much out there.

I’ll hit my titular towns in the order that I investigated them.  First up, Bethany (pop 3,300, my largest town by far).  From Wiki:

The original name of the community was Dallas.  [Why Dallas I don’t know.]

The name Dallas apparently did not meet with the general approval of the residents of the community and the issue was brought before the county court. It was decided that a new name would be selected by ballot. The names of Bethany and Carthage were proposed. The vote favored “Bethany”; accordingly the town’s name was changed.

Even though Carthage lost, here’s a little info, starting with a map (when Carthage was part of the Roman Empire):

From Wiki:

Carthage (founded around 800 BC) was the center and capital city of the ancient Carthaginian civilization, in what is now Tunisia.  Carthage was widely considered the most important trading hub of the Ancient Mediterranean and was arguably one of the most affluent and beautiful cities of the Ancient World.

It was its own entity (Ancient Carthage) until the Romans conquered it, and it became known as Roman Carthage.  It had numerous ups and downs through the Middle Ages, and ended up as part of the Ottoman (Muslim) Empire, into the 1800s.

Here’s a re-creation of what Ancient Carthage more-or-less looked like:

And here’s a shot of some of what’s there today:

So, Bethany won.  From Wiki:

Al-Eizariya “place of Lazarus”, also referred to by its classical name of Bethany is a town in the West Bank. The name al-Eizariya refers to the New Testament figure Lazarus of Bethany, who according to the Gospel of John, was raised from the dead by Jesus.  The purported site of the miracle, the Tomb of Lazarus, is a traditional pilgrimage site. The town is located on the southeastern slope of the Mount of Olives, less than two miles from Jerusalem.

Besides the Lazarus story, Bethany figures widely at the end of Jesus’ life.  Based on various accounts in the various gospels, Jesus began his entry into Jerusalem from Bethany on Palm Sunday; he stayed in Bethany the following week (at Lazarus’ house?); and then after Jesus’ resurrection, he traveled to Bethany, and from there was his “Ascension” into heaven.

Here’s a Wiki shot of early 20th century Bethany:

There you have it.  And in 19th century Middle America, it’s easy to see why Bethany beat out Carthage . . .

While we’re on the religious side of the aisle, how about Conception / Conception Junction / Clyde?  I’ll start with a GE shot showing the proximity of the three towns:

Well, as for the “conception” part, the Conception Abbey, home to the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception is – where else – in Conception:

Sixty-five monks live there and the Abbey is also home to a college and a seminary.  Here’s the Abbey (from their website):

And, as posted on GE by Marie Hanson, here’s the inside of the main chapel:

So, right next to Conception is Conception Junction:

Conception Junction!  AYKM?  It sounds like just the place to go if you want to make a baby!  I mean, really.  Here’s the definition of junction:  “A point where two or more things are joined.”  I rest my case.

And right next to Conception Junction is Clyde:

And, as you can see, there’s a convent in Clyde, the Benedictine Convent of Perpetual Adoration.  But first, we need to learn that Clyde got its name from Clydesdale horses purchased by an early citizen.

From Wiki, about the Convent:

The sisters (61 as of 2016) follow a simple, contemplative way of life.  They support themselves by producing Altar Breads, soap, liturgical vestments and gourmet popcorn. They are sold under the name “Monastery Creations”; the soaps and lotions are produced onsite in a building that was once in 1927 as a slaughterhouse when the monastery had a large dairy and livestock operation. “Monastery Scents” offers several different kinds of soap, lotions, salves, lip balm and candles sold in the monastery’s gift shop and online.

The Sisters produce gluten-free hosts safe for celiacs, which has been approved by the Catholic Church for use at Mass. [For those like me who don’t know such things, “hosts” are the wafers used for communion.]  In a 2004 article from the Catholic Review, gastroenterologist Alessio Fasano was quoted as declaring these hosts “perfectly safe for celiac sufferers.”

Here are a few products offered from their website:

Looking for Black Raspberry Vanilla soap with activated charcoal?

Now you know where to look!

We’ll have a very quick visit to Rea, home to an octagonal barn, built around 1900 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places:

It’s time for our last stop, New Hampton, which is the hometown of one Jesse Funk, winner of the Medal of Honor for his actions in WW I.  From Wiki:

Born in New Hampton, Missouri, Funk later moved to Calhan, Colorado, where he worked as a rancher. He married and had one son before entering the Army in 1915.

After training at Camp Funston in Kansas in 1915, Funk was sent to Europe.  On October 18, 1918, near Bois-de-Bantheville, France, Funk’s division sent several patrols into no man’s land to reconnoiter German positions in preparation for an advance as part of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Private First Class Funk served as a stretcher-bearer.

Unusually, the patrols had been sent out during daylight, rather than waiting for the cover of darkness. Two patrols from Funk’s regiment became pinned down by heavy rifle and machine-gun fire. Second Lieutenant John M. Millis was seriously wounded in the legs and ordered his men to leave without him. One man managed to crawl to the safety of the Allied lines and brought news that Millis and another wounded officer were trapped in no man’s land.

Upon hearing this, Funk and another stretcher-bearer, Private First Class Charles D. Barger, voluntarily ran 500 yards through heavy machine-gun fire with their stretcher and rescued Millis.  They then returned to no man’s land and rescued the other officer, First Lieutenant Ernest G. Rowell.

For these actions, both Funk and Barger were awarded the Medal of Honor the next year.  These were the only Medals of Honor received by Army medical personnel in World War I.

So.  I couldn’t resist but to take a quick trip to the Bois-de-Bantheville, France.  It turns out that Bantheville is a teeny town in the French countryside:

“Bois” means “woods,” so I assume the forest near Bantheville is the “Bois-de-Bantheville.”  The Orange Dude was very excited to take a quick trip to France to get a look at the bois:

, and he was enchanted by this pastoral scene:

He loved the countryside so much, I couldn’t reign him in.  He went au bois (to the woods) on the west side of town, and saw this equally-enchanting pastoral scene:

The road sign lets us know that we’re 3 kilometers from Bantheville . . .

In downtown Bantheville is this WWI monument (posted on GE by Dominique Salè):

I got a little help from the internet for the translation:

I assume that “her” refers to the town.

Just outside of town is this smaller monument:

It honors U.S. Army Major James D. Rivet, who died on October 15, 1918 (three days before Jesse Funk performed his heroic rescue).  The monument says “Heroic ally sacrificed his life in taking Bois-de-Rappes, October 15, 1918.”  A website about the monument goes on to say that this was part of the effort to liberate the town of Bantheville, which was accomplished on October 21.

A little more research reveals that the Bois-de-Rappes is also known as the Bois-de-Bantheville.  Here’s a NYTimes article from October 22, 1918:

The war was going very badly for the Germans; the end of war came just three weeks later, on 11/11/1918.  There’s something especially poignant about people who are killed just before a war ends . . . 

To close things out, of course I checked out photos on GE near my landing.  It was pretty slim pickins, but I found this shot by JB the Milker taken about 12 miles north of my landing.  By the way, this marks my eighth post featuring photos by JB (OH-2; KS-2; SD-2; ND-1; and now MO-1).  That boy gets around . . . 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2020 A Landing A Day

 

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Las Vegas, Nevada

Posted by graywacke on February 13, 2020

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-a-week blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some relatively recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2472; A Landing A Day blog post number 909

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (N46o 30.177’, W115o 52.888’) puts me in southern Nevada:

My local landing map shows a very-nearby recent landing (the more northern one), and today’s landing, both about 35 miles NW of Las Vegas:

A quick look at Google Earth (GE) shows that I landed in the same watershed that I did in my previous landing:

So, I’ll simply borrow a GE shot from that landing (#2354; July 2017):

And also borrow these words:

As you can see, runoff from that rare desert storm heads east, and ends up collecting in the general vicinity of the Elevation 3014 yellow pushpin.  I added the various elevation pushpins in to show you that the water has no choice as to where it ends up.

So that post featured Mercury and Indian Springs.  It’s an excellent post (as they all are); it dives deep into the Yucca Flats nuclear test facility and Area 51.  Curious?  Type “Mercury” into the search box.  If you don’t bother, at least you should take a look at the lovely photo with which I closed the post (by Hobgot, of the mountains south of the Indian Springs):

So what am I left with?  Well, I guess I’ll slum it this post and head down to Las Vegas.  From Wiki:

More than 150 years ago, a spring-fed creek flowed through the Las Vegas Valley, creating an oasis in the desert. With the only free-flowing water and grass for miles around, the site attracted the native Paiute as well as traders, emigrants and gold seekers traveling the Old Spanish Trail to California.

[I’m sure the Paiute were delighted to share their desert oasis with the white man.]

The Spaniards called the place las vegas, which is Spanish for the meadows.

Archeological excavations of the fort site revealed pottery shards, stone tools and projectile points of both Anasazi and Paiute origin.  A high concentration of artifacts was uncovered directly north of the northeastern fort bastion, suggesting the presence of a campsite that was intermittently used for centuries prior to the arrival of Euro-Americans.

The Mormons settled Salt Lake City in 1847, and Mormon travelers began passing through the meadows of Las Vegas due to the need to procure supplies from southern California.  With the sudden increase in freight and emigrant traffic on this trail, and the need for security on this vital trade route, the settlement of Las Vegas became a practical step for the expanding Mormon state.

In June of 1855 thirty Mormon settlers led by President William Bringhurst arrived at the meadows and with the assistance of the local Paiute population began construction of a fort structure along the creek.

[I’m sure the Paiute were delighted to assist in building a fort to protect the Mormons from . . . uhhh . . . . the Paiute??]

The settlers diverted water from the creek to irrigate farmland and constructed an adobe corral directly north of the fort.  However, crop failures, disappointing yields in nearby lead mining efforts and dissension among the group’s leaders caused the settlers to abandon the fort in March of 1857.

The fort and surrounding land became the center of 19th century and early 20th century Las Vegas (which wasn’t much).  But then things started to change.

Before discussing the above-mentioned changes, let’s take a look at the “Mormon Fort.”  For the record, I must mention that the head of the Mormon Church (Russel Nelson, the President of the Church, aka “The Prophet”) has unequivocally stated that the Church should no longer be referred to as the Mormon Church, but rather the “Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.”  I don’t think that he said that we couldn’t say CJCLDS, or COJCOLDS (for fans of the word “of.”). 

By the way, one might also colloquially say, for example, “she’s a Mormon.”  Now, one must say “she’s a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints,” aka MOTCOJCOLDS.  Strangely, it’s actually pronounceable.

[Full disclosure:  I like Mormons.  My daughter’s a Mormon.  I have three granddaughters who are Mormon.  Through my daughter, I know many Mormons, and I really like almost all of them.  However, as is obvious, I am not a Mormon, and I enjoy poking fun at any group that takes itself seriously, including Mormons . . . ]

So, here’s a GE shot of the COJCOLDS Fort State Park today.  (Oh oh.  I might be hearing from Google Earth letting me know that “GE” is unacceptable!):

So let’s head in to downtown Las Vegas and take a look at the old Mormon Fort:

And then zoom back and check out the neighborhood:

The fort is close to downtown Las Vegas (just to the southwest); the Strip is mostly just off the map to the south.

Taking another close look at the fort, check this out:

Oh my!  The spring-fed stream that created a desert oasis is still there!

And here’s a photo posted by Kat Kruse of the actual stream:

If I were a betting man, I would have bet good money that the stream was nowhere to be found in today’s Las Vegas . . .

I wonder if it’s real, or if the City pumps water into the old stream bed . .

Moving right along . . . from History.com, this look at 20th century Las Vegas history:

In 1905 the railroad arrived in Las Vegas.  The future downtown was platted and auctioned by railroad company backers, and Las Vegas was incorporated in 1911.

Nevada outlawed gambling in 1910 but the practice continued in speakeasies and illicit casinos. By the time gambling was legalized again in 1931, organized crime already had roots in the city.

In 1931 construction began on the massive Hoover Dam, drawing thousands of workers to a site just east of the city. Casinos and showgirl venues opened up on Fremont Street, the town’s sole paved road, to attract the project’s workers. When the dam was completed in 1936, cheap hydroelectricity powered the flashing signs of along Fremont Street.

In 1941 the El Rancho Vegas resort opened on a section of highway just outside the city’s jurisdiction. Other hotel-casinos soon followed, and the section of highway became known as “the Strip.” In 1946 mobster Bugsy Siegel, backed by East Coast Jewish gangster Meyer Lansky’s Mexican drug money, opened the Flamingo, a swank resort that took its cues from Hollywood. Top-drawer talent was booked for its lounges and dozens of celebrities attended its Christmas Day opening.

Siegel was murdered in 1947, but his vision for Las Vegas lived on: During the 1950s and 1960s, mobsters helped build the Sahara, the Sands, the New Frontier and the Riviera. Money from organized crime combined with funds from more respectable investors—Wall Street banks, union pension funds, the Mormon Church and the Princeton University endowment.

Tourists flocked to the resorts—8 million a year by 1954—drawn by performers such as Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Elvis Presley, and by rows of slot machines and gaming tables.

In 1966 Howard Hughes checked into the penthouse of the Desert Inn and never left, preferring to buy the hotel rather than face eviction. He bought other hotels too—$300 million worth—ushering in an era in which mob interests were displaced by corporate conglomerates.

In 1989 longtime casino developer Steve Wynn opened the Mirage, the city’s first mega-resort. Over the next two decades the strip was transformed yet again: Old casinos were dynamited to make room for massive complexes taking their aesthetic cues from ancient Rome and Egypt, Paris, Venice, New York and other glamorous escapes.

Casinos and entertainment remained Las Vegas’ major employer, and the city grew with the size of the resorts and the numbers of annual visitors. In 2008, even as residents faced recession, rising unemployment and a housing price collapse, the city still received nearly 40 million visitors (compared to 6,000,000 visitors in 1970).

I’ve put together this population history:

1900:   22
1910:   800
1920:   2,300
1930:   5,165
1940:   8,422
1950:   24,624
1960:   64,405
1970:   125,787
1980:   164,674  (metro – 463,000)
1990:   258,300  (metro – 741,500)
2000:   478,434  (metro – 1,400,000)
2010:   583,800  (metro – 1,952,000)
2020:   644,644  (metro – 2,200,000)
No surprise – Las Vegas grew more in the 20th century than any other city in the U.S. (by far).  By the way, Chicago holds that title for the 19th century, growing from under 5,000 in 1840 to 1,700,00 in 1900 . . .

To close things down, let’s take a quick look at Cold Creek, an unincorporated “community” nearby:

I noticed some lovely pictures posted on GE near Cold Creek.  Here’s a sampling; first this by Jonathon Berman:

And another by Mr. Berman:

And this, by Chris Nunley:

I’ll close with another beauty by (who else?) Jonathon Berman:

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2019 A Landing A Day

 

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