D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
August 2009
Tyrone
Page: 2"These are the two most noticeable features of the hospital. Pipes, pipes and more pipes — enough to drive a plumber bug-house, while the electrical wiring must have demanded the genius of Thomas Edison in planning and execution."
The fourth side of the plaza was reserved for construction of a classic domed, buttressed, steepled Spanish-Colonial Catholic Church. There were also plans for a big hotel, more shops and a clubhouse.
While the plaza was never completed as planned due to the boom-and-bust nature of the copper business, some institutions were established in this "Model Mining Community." A school with a capacity for somewhere between 300 and 1,000 students was completed, and various celebrations did take place in the plaza area.
Newspaper accounts of the day told of the many dances, prize fights, ice cream socials, barbecues and races conducted in Tyrone. The town belonged to "The Copper League," and baseball games were a regular event in the town.
A Jan. 17, 1917, Enterprise article mentioned a moving-picture show in the town, a rather advanced entertainment venue for the day. Phelps-Dodge even purchased a set of brass musical instruments to encourage Saturday-night dances.
But where did all the money for this elaborate enterprise come from, and where did all the buildings and people go? What happened to the dream? The answers all have to do with electricity.
At the turn of the 19th/20th centuries, America — indeed, the world — had just begun to use electricity in common everyday life. The wiring of America's cities and towns demanded copper, copper and more copper, and Phelps-Dodge was there with the goods. By 1914, the year the Tyrone master plan was launched, the Silver City Enterprise reported that 200 men were on the payroll in Tyrone, and that was just in the mine. By 1915, with the importation of Mexican laborers, that number had jumped to over 300, and some were making as much as $2.50 per day.
The population of Tyrone grew, and with the outbreak of World War I, the world's demand for copper grew even more. By the end of the war, Tyrone's population stood at somewhere between 4,000 and 5,000, making it the seventh-largest city in New Mexico, and the largest in Grant County, according to the 1920 census.
Then in 1921, with the bottom falling out of the copper market, it was decided the dream of Tyrone had run its course. The mine was shut down, although the shafts and facilities were maintained until 1928. Then the shafts were allowed to flood, and the rest of those beautiful buildings were abandoned.
Many of the buildings became part of Ranchos Los Pinos, a guest ranch resort with tennis courts, a swimming pool and croquet grounds. In the early 1930s, famed New Mexico freelance writer Clee Woods made the abandoned Tyrone city jail his office. From his "writer's study," Woods cranked out hundreds of Wild West stories and more than 50 New Mexico Magazine articles. Woods' wife, Betty, did New Mexico Magazine's "Trip of the Month" column for many years. Clee and Betty made their home in "The Pines," as the resort community came to be called until the end.
The resort thrived until World War II. Then, with the establishment of gas rationing and the overall war effort, things like vacations and dude ranches took a back seat to more vital priorities.
In 1967 Phelps-Dodge announced it was returning to Tyrone, and the old buildings that had stood empty for some 45 years would fall to the bulldozers. The Pines, still owned by the mining company, would be evacuated and the cottages would soon find themselves buried under tailings. The Tyrone plaza and its buildings, so carefully planned and executed, would be swallowed up by the new pit mine.
It's nearly all gone now. Only the two old buildings remain, and according to one source close to them, remain in "pretty good shape." There are no plans to destroy them.
The Miller Library at WNMU has many of the old articles about Tyrone in bound copies of New Mexico Magazine, as well as a commemorative display in a glass case on show now. The Silver City Museum houses a thick folder of reference materials about old Tyrone.
But for the few really old "old timers," the "Million Dollar Ghost Town" is still back there in those hills south of Silver City. The whistle still sounds as the train backs into the station, and the brass band can still be faintly heard on Saturday nights.
Jim Kelly is a retired journalist who lives in Silver City. Thanks to Tom Hester,
researcher at the Silver City Museum, for suggesting the topic.