Pahrump Valley Gazette, Thursday, November 20, 1997 17 ,
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Gazette on the street...
Describe your most memorable Thanksgiving.
Pahrump Pahrump Pahrump Pahrump
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OIS GODSMAN -- APRIL ROBERTSON - Prep TODD ARMS--Unemployed- LEROY CHITTY - Retired
ddad ........
Homemaker -- "When a[l the cook- 'The year my gran Justspendmgltwlthmyfamily. slot technician .- "It was totally
family was together in New York came out from Pahrump to Texas uneventful.Wedon'thaveturkey,
years ago. About 15 kids and 20 andbarbequedthemrkey." wehavelasagnabecausemywife at my house amt Mom came from
adults. We had a full basement , is Italian. Our family is se.attered, the nursing home for the day,"
and so we set up everything there." so we don't get together.
Compiled by PVG staff photo'aphers
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Nevae a-then alt,cl now
Bill Boyle: Lake Tahoe fishing legend
by Phillip 1. Earl
Nevada Historical Society
ust off the Pacific Rim Trail north of Tahoe City,
J California, stands a large white cross marking the
final resting place of Bill Boyle, Lake Tahoe fishing
legend. Like
many Westem-
ers a century ago, he talked
little about his past and his
friends asked no questions.
He once spoke of his old
home in Georgia, however,
and his accent and courtly
manner reflected his south-
ern origins. He also talked of
his early years as a merchant
seaman and of visiting many
foreign ports over the years,
but little else.
About 1896, Boyle
showed up in Wadsworth,
Nevada, where he took a
position as a maintenance
carpenter for the Southern
Pacific Railroad. Two years
later, he moved on to Tahoe
City where he established a
boat shop and built a small
cabin near the Truckee River
outlet. Over the next several
years, he built and repaired
boats, took visitors on fish-
ing excursions and himself,
fished the lake. He preferred
fighting game fish- rainbow
trout, steelheads, golden
eastern brook trout and
Lochieven - and opposed the
introduction of the sluggish Mackinaw, often referring to them
as "Lake Michigan Sharks." His favorite spot was Rubicon Point
off the west shore, and he often abandoned his boat business
when the fishing was good.
An intelligent, scholarly sort, although self-educated, he
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Bill Boyle's grave overlooking Tahoe City and Lake Tahoe
photo courtesy of PhiUip L Earl
loved literature, particularly sea stories, and tried putting pen to
paper himself from time to time. He also became fast friends with the
youngsters of Tahoe City, introducing them to the joys of angling,
and got to know the Washoe
Indians during their seasonal
visits. His dry sense of humor
and his fondness for the bottle
endeared him to other locals
who hung out at the Customs
House wharf, but a bout of pneu-
monia in the spring of 1911
kept him confined to his cabin
for several months. Two
friends, Sarah and Bob Watson,
nursed him back to health, but
he never felt entirely well there-
after, complaining of stomach
trouble.
He had taken to hiking up
the mountain north of town
where he would sit for hours
watching the boat traffic off
Tahoe City. When he was fi-
nally induced to submit to a
medical examination, he was
diagnosed with terminal stom-
ach cancer. Toward the last, he
told his friends that he would
like to be buried on the crest of
the mountain so his spirit could
watch the schools ofnativetrout
which came up the Truckee
each summer. He departed this
realm on February 3,1912. The
next morning, seventeen of his
friends met at the Customs
House to remember him and have a few drinks. Several hours later,
they placed his coffin on a large toboggan sled and dragged it five
hundred feet up the mountain. Digging through six feet of snow, they
hacked a grave in the frozen earth and laid him away.
In August 1913, Bob Montgomery and his sons cut a native cedar
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and fashioned it into a cross. With a flatbed wagon pulled by a team
of horses, they hauled it up Beartrap Road to the grave-site, placing
it at the head of the grave where citizens of Tahee City could view
it. A few weeks later, Bert Watson whitewashed it. For many years,
Tahoe City children made Easter pilgrimages to place flowers on
Bill Boyle's grave, but the tradition has gone the way of many and
the cross today appears to entirely abandoned.
Bill Boyle has not been forgotten, however, and Ethel Joslin
Vernon celebrated his life in verse a few years ago:
"The White Cross on the Hill"
The great trees crest the ridge pine-green;
The lake lies wide and blue below,
And on the brush-clad slope between
White, fragrant lilies grow.
Tall, snow-white lilies stand and look
To where the cross gleams white and still;
They mark the toilsome way they took
Who bore him up the hill.
Unknown to wealth, unknown to fame
Was he they laid to quiet rest;
They hewed a cross without a name
Above his lifeless breast,
But it is said he loved to roam
The winding trails, the hilltop ways
And river woods that hid his home
Through all his lonely days.
And when at last death whispered near,
And black shades gathered grim and still,
He breathed the wish long treasured dear,
To sleep upon the hill.
Thus, through the snow one wintry .day
They bore aloft His box of pine,
And where it rested on the way
White, fragrant lilies shine.
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