Wendy Nelsen keeps an office in the Lovelock Train Depot. She invites visitors to sink into her couch, nibble on Hershey’s Kisses and flip through an album full of old photos. If they’re from Lovelock, they’ll recognize an ancestor or two.
Every Lovelock schoolchild knows George Lovelock gave 85 acres of land to the transcontinental railroad. To show their appreciation, officials named the depot after the Welsh immigrant and homesteader.
In the 1880s, the Southern Pacific Railroad built half a dozen depots across Nevada. Each contained agent’s quarters and passenger waiting rooms decked out with flat board trim. Only Lovelock’s, built in the winter of 1880, still stands.
“The depot was ‘Lovelock’s’ even before there was a town called Lovelock,” says Nelsen. For decades, nobody entered or left the village without passing through its doors.
If the depot were a cat, you could say it’s gone through two of its nine lives. In 1998, the Union Pacific Railroad planned to demolish the building as a liability. Since the depot’s closure in the early 1990s, squatters used it as a crash pad. Pigeons roosted in its eaves.
A group of citizens convinced railroad officials to give the building to the City of Lovelock. Decades later, on Monday, Nov. 18, the Lovelock Volunteer Fire Department battled flames and fatigue for over 15 hours. Finally, they rescued the two-storied treasure from its second flirtation with the grim reaper.
Earlier this fall, Dawn Bequette enlivened her Ghost Walk Tour with stories of Lovelock’s past. As the hayride progressed along Main Street toward the courthouse, Bequette shared stories about the block and its inhabitants.
She gestured toward the corner of West Broadway and Main. In 2002, the citizen’s group moved the depot away from the railroad tracks to the new location. A business called ‘the Savoy’ once stood on the spot.
Next came the Bank Building, built in 1905. Two years later, Main Street suffered three fires in as many weeks, Bequette told the passengers. Each time, the brick structure survived while its wooden neighbors collapsed into piles of rubble. In 1915, fire consumed much of Lovelock’s commercial district. Once again, the Bank Building withstood the blaze.
Although the extent of water damage is unknown, history may have repeated itself. This time, the Bank Building protected the depot. Firefighters also saved an apartment complex off the back of the structure. The Lovelock Police Department safely evacuated its occupants.
“The reason we didn’t lose the apartments is because the Bank Building has a 14-inch firewall. We were able to get lines on that, keep it cooled down and keep the fire from spreading,” said Rodney Wilcox, the fire chief.
Through the years, the Soroptimist Building, built in the late 1890s, housed a senior center, a five-and-dime store, the Soroptimist Outreach Center, the Lovelock Review-Miner and many other businesses. As a boy, Jerry Allen delivered newspapers from the site, never dreaming he’d grow up to be the sheriff.
Most recently, Michael Morgan Murphy ran Treasures Bookstore. His former customers describe him as a member of a vanishing breed, a true conversationalist.
Still youthful in his seventies, Murphy packed his store with hundreds of books and stashed an electric keyboard behind the cash register. When business slowed, he taught himself to play. A spiral staircase led from the ground floor into the attic. In bygone days, a haberdasher tiptoed upstairs to retrieve odd sizes.
In the aftermath of the fire, people reminisced about the lost building. Kelly and Rick Reynolds got married there. So did Berta Graham’s grandparents.
Next, the skyline dipped from two stories to one. At the end of the block, it rose again before disappearing into a vacant lot, the ghost of Felix Turilla’s Bank Club. Felix’s crystal chandelier shattered long ago. Generations of soda fountains, five-and-dime stores, pizza parlors and pubs came and went from the block. Some, like Davin’s, lent character to the neighborhood for years.
A cherry tree bloomed on the sidewalk storefront every spring. It reappears in photos as automobiles morph into different sizes and shapes. The fire snuffed out its pink blossoms forever.
“I have so many memories,” said a Lovelock woman. “We drank Cherry Coke at the counter when Jack Davin owned the building. Later, I worked there when it was Flossie May’s Country Cafe. I remember bartending and good times. We partied at the bar while ‘Party Like It’s 1999’ played on the jukebox.”
On Friday, Dec. 13, Nelsen will host a noon get-together to thank the LVFD for saving the depot. Her father, Judge Richard Wagner, made a lamp to honor them. Each firefighter will sign the lampshade before standing on the depot’s steps for a historic photograph.
Bequette, Patty Burke and Michele Kommers are planning a hayride for Saturday, Dec. 14, at 6 p.m. Some of the buildings featured on their previous tour no longer exist. Still, Jason Coyle and Galen Reese hope to drive wagons full of people through town. They’ll sing carols, sip hot chocolate and admire Lovelock’s Christmas finery. Bequette encourages people to light up their houses for the holiday. “It’s a way to begin healing,” she says.
