We happened across a mysterious relic from days gone by during a recent visit to Carson City’s Lone Mountain Cemetery. The fencing is still intact. The grave’s wooden marker still stands upright. But there’s no plaque to identify the person who’s buried here. How can you not wonder who that might be?
A quick search of notes assembled from old cemetery records by Lone Mountain historian Melinda Cash disclosed that the likely occupant was a fellow named James Crawford – a prominent Nevadan in the 1870s and early ‘80s, and at the time of his death in 1885, the Superintendent of the Carson City Mint. A prominent guy indeed!
Now, we had a name. But there was yet another mystery on our hands. According to Cash, Crawford is also identified as being buried at San Rafael, California. And his California grave bears an impressive stone monument!
You probably know us well enough by know to know we couldn’t let a great mystery like that go unexplored. Especially since Crawford turned out to be a fascinating and very well-loved guy.
Born January 22, 1832 (or possibly December 25, 1832, according to other sources) in Hardinsburg, Kentucky, As a lad, James Crawford had moved with his parents to Rushville Illinois before eventually being bitten by the Gold Bug. He moved west in 1852, initially settling in Sierra County, California.
Later reports would say Crawford was essentially illiterate when he arrived — so poor at reading and writing that he was “unable to inform his people in the east that he had got through.” But what he lacked in education, he made up for in grit and tenacity.
Crawford taught himself to read and write “by the light of a candle in a miner’s cabin” – an accomplishment of which he would always be justifiably proud. Unfortunately, by the time he arrived in California, the first wave of gold-seekers had already beat him to the punch. Crawford moved on to newspaper work, becoming partners in Sierra County’s Mountain Messenger, and eventually serving one term in the California Assembly.
But mining still intrigued him. In 1863 while the “Washoe excitement” was booming, Como moved to the Palmyra Mining District in Lyon County, where he served as superintendent for the Amazon Tunnel Company. Ever afterward, he would carry the nickname “Como Crawford.” In 1864, Crawford became an editor for the Como Sentinel, rubbing shoulders with such literary figures as Alf Doten. And he would later become superintendent of the Rocky Point Mill at Dayton, though his mining and milling efforts were apparently not crowned with much success.
In 1865, Crawford became a member of the Nevada State Assembly, and he was reelected in 1872. There, he impressed colleagues with his “honesty and clear judgment.”
When a vacancy arose in 1874 for the post of superintendent of the Carson City Mint, Crawford won the appointment. He oversaw production of the famous Carson City Morgan silver dollars when they were introduced in 1878, and served as the Mint’s superintendent for more than ten years – from September 9, 1874 through his death in 1885. It was an astonishing achievement for a man who’d barely been able to read or write when he came west 22 years earlier.
About January, 1885, Crawford sought medical treatment in the Bay area for a heart condition, hoping the change of climate might be beneficial. That effort wasn’t successful. He passed away in Oakland in the wee hours of the morning of March 8, 1885 at just 53 years of age, from what was described as “valvular disease of the heart.”
Crawford’s body was returned to Nevada by “express” train the following day. His body was met at the depot by delegations from the Masonic Lodge, employees of the Mint, members of the Carson Guard, and assorted friends.
Crawford had been a member of Masonic Valley Lodge #9 for over 18 years, at one time serving as its Worshipful Master. So it’s no surprise that his funeral on March 10 was held under the auspices of his Masonic brethren. Flags along Carson Street were lowered to half-mast in respect, and the event was described by the Territorial Enterprise as “one of the largest ever witnessed in the city.” Crawford was laid to rest in an iron casket at Lone Mountain Cemetery in a Masonic plot, #1D-2 – the same site that today still bears that vacant wooden marker and iron fencing.
A series of obituaries followed in various papers, lauding Crawford’s character and his “charitable disposition.” In one particularly telling remark, the Daily Territorial Enterprise noted that Crawford’s “uniform kindness to all his subordinates in the Mint service will never be forgotten.”
Crawford apparently wasn’t married at the time of his death. He left the proceeds of a Masonic $7,500 life insurance policy to his niece, Lizzie Crawford, who had been like a daughter to him and lived with him in Carson City. Just a month after Crawford’s death, Lizzie married James “Jack” G. Sheppard – the friend who’d taken charge of Crawford’s remains upon their arrival at Carson on the train.
Newspapers commented effusively on Crawford’s personal integrity. “His hands were always open to the deserving, and though millions of the Government’s money passed through them, never a dollar adhered to their palms,” read one obituary. An audit by a Treasury agent of the Mint’s assets appeared to confirm that verdict. After all the coin had been counted and the bullion weighed, “rumor” had it that the report was “very satisfactory” and Crawford’s operations had been “upon the square.”
So, if Crawford was clearly buried at Lone Mountain, how did there come to be a second grave for him in California? Well, some four years after Crawford’s death, a small news note in February, 1889 finally provides the explanation. Crawford’s body had been exhumed, it noted, and “sent to California for re-interment.”
And why would someone dig up a prominent Nevada citizen and move him all the way to San Rafael? Well, the Mt. Tamalpais Cemetery, where Crawford’s stone marker sits, had just opened in 1879 and was becoming a “fashionable” burial spot at the time. And moving bodies was a surprisingly common practice among Victorians of that era.
As you’ll remember, Crawford’s niece Lizzie had married Jack Sheppard in April, 1885, and the newlyweds moved to San Rafael, California shortly thereafter, where Jack opened a drugstore. They welcomed a son on February 20, 1888, naming him James. But sadly, Lizzie’s husband, Jack, passed away in November 1888 at just 31 years of age, and was buried at the newly-opened Mt. Tamalpais Cemetery. So it makes sense that James Crawford’s remains were moved there only a few months later, close to Jack Sheppard’s resting place. And as for Lizzie herself — she would go on to remarry a man named Gregson in 1894, and live another half-century before finally passing away on March 7, 1945. Her final resting place is unknown.
As for the now-empty plot at Lone Mountain Cemetery, after Crawford’s remains had been moved, the plot would likely have been considered still “owned” by his family. So in deference to the heirs, the original metal fencing and wooden marker were probably simply left in place.
And we had yet one more surprising “find” before our quest to learn about James Crawford was over. As it turns out, Reno coin dealer Rusty Goe has devoted much of his professional career to preserving James Crawford’s legacy, and has written a comprehensive biography! Goe’s illustration-filled, 650-page volume has won awards from two different numismatic organizations. If you’d like to learn more about this pioneering Carson City figure, you’ll find Rusty Goe’s authoritative biography of Crawford on Amazon.com, along with two more fascinating books he’s written about the history of the Carson City Mint and its special coins.
Biography of James Crawford by Reno coin dealer, Rusty Goe, available on Amazon.com.
| Special thanks to Rusty and Marie Goe for generously sharing their knowledge about James Crawford for this article, and to Lone Mountain Cemetery expert Melinda Cash for her help identifying the site of Crawford’s original grave! |