Old Time Mill Operator

Bill Taylor drove up to the boarding house most afternoons to lend Ed a hand and give advice. He gave his grandkids lessons on fishing, and bounced the great-grandkids on his knee, probably wishing that Annie was still alive to see them. Nora never minded an extra guests for dinner and Bill loved her way with cooking. The kids loved his stories.

In January of 1934, the government took the another grand step. After bringing gold under federal control the year before, it raised the official price from $20.67 to $35 an ounce. It was a change made in Washington, but its effects reached straight into places like the Salmon River country. Gold taken from the ground was suddenly worth far more than it had been the year before. Mines that had barely paid could now show a return. Old workings were reopened, and ground once thought played out was looked at again with fresh interest. What had been a struggle just to hold on began, at last, to turn in a man’s favor.

The hike in the price of gold and the presence of CCC boys changed Shoup. The town had already filled with young men in uniform, now prospectors came, and old mines drew the lease holders for another go at extracting the gold. Wages circulated again, and the sounds of work—picks, shovels, saws—even a big crane at the rapids were a steady song the canyon.

By April of 1934 the bridge above the Pine Creek rapids was finished.

Sadly, Ed and Alta’s stepfather would not live to drive across it.

Billy Taylor caught the flu and died at the hospital in Salmon on February 8, 1934.

Old-Time Mill Operator Dies

(Salmon, Idaho – February 17, 1934)

Death has taken a heavy toll among the old-time mining men of central Idaho during the past year, and last week the passing of William E. “Billy” Taylor, 75, marked the loss of one of the last of the “old guard” after a short illness caused by influenza.

Mr. Taylor was widely known throughout the region as an expert quartz mill man and amalgamator. For years he was completely deaf from the constant roar of pounding stamp mills.

He was greatly beloved by those who knew him. His kindness and willingness to demonstrate the workings of the mills wherever he worked will long be remembered by friends and strangers alike.

Born March 29, 1858, in Plumas County, California, Taylor came to Idaho in 1885, first locating in the Coeur d’Alenes before moving to Lemhi County the following year. He operated the old Kentucky stamp mill nearly fifty years ago and worked for years at the Kitty Burton mill under Mining Engineer R. L. Edwards.

At the time of his death he was mill man at the Ranger mine owned by the Shoup estate.

He is survived by his son, W. R. Taylor of Salmon; a stepson, Ed Callahan; a stepdaughter, Mrs. Alta Barton of Shoup; and four brothers in California.

Funeral services were held at the Methodist Church in Salmon. Mining men from throughout the county attended the burial at Salmon Cemetery.

William E. Taylor

By Edna Barton Harris

Grandmother Callahan Taylor’s husband was one of the finest mill men in the whole western United States. I have seen articles written about him but was never able to get hold of one.

The stamp mill would pound the rock until it became gravel, and water would wash the crushed ore over large plates coated with mercury to catch the gold.

After each partnership’s ore was run through the mill it would be shut down. Grandfather Taylor would clean the gold and mercury from the plates and run an assay. The bullion was then shipped to the mint, and the returns were sent to the lease holders.

During the month he might run several different people’s ore, and it was profitable to keep the mill operating.

Grandfather Taylor—really only our step-grandfather—could get more gold from the ore than most mill men. That was what made him so valuable.

He was also one of the kindest men I ever knew. He was deaf to the point that you had to speak directly into his ear. The old-timers called him “Deefy Taylor,” always with affection.

I am sure he never had an enemy.

His life with Grandmother Annie C. Taylor was quite a story. Remind me to tell you of it.