The Best Little Town in America. Elko

“Hi Honey we’ve been invited to give a presentation in Elko.” 

Elko....what’s an Elko?

As it turns out it is the capital of Nevada’s gold belt, and that’s why 

we had been asked over.

I’m a city person. A big city person. Every time I’ve visited America it has been 

to big cities so when the opportunity to visit Elko came up I leaped at the chance. 

I first had to get the atlas and find out just where it was. After I got a magnifying 

glass out I found it in Nevada. So off to Nevada we went.

We flew to Salt Lake City and hired a car for the long drive across the Great 

Salt Lake Desert. The drive itself was sensational. It was January and we were 

surrounded by wild winter weather. The skies above the desert were crystalline 

but the surrounding mountains were being hit with dramatic snow storms.

We entered Elko at dusk. It was cold and the town was small.  

Hunter S. Thompson quipped that in Elko, "The federal government owns 90% 

of this land, and most of it is useless for anything except weapons testing and 

poison-gas experiments". (Fear and Loathing in Elko) Elko has also been used in 

an episode of X-Files.

Elko was also the centre of gambling and prostitution for Elko County. It was

built in the 1860’s for the railways and became a cowboy and mining town. 

It was where people from Salt Lake City would come to misbehave. That role 

has now been taken over by Wendover and the casinos are looking a bit tired 

and under-used. I guess the prostitutes are as well. We checked into the Hilton 
Garden Inn, it was on a slight rise so had a view over the town. 

We drove down town for dinner and were amazed to see a large polar 

bear at the front of the Commercial Casino.

And even more amazed to see a real stuffed bear inside.

From the plaque: Legendary White King. Height: 10’4’’Estimated live weight: 

2000 lbs. Mounted by the Jonas Bros. (of Seattle)

“Taken In The Arctic Ocean By Native Eskimo Hunters At Point Hope, Alaska.
Reputed to Be The Largest Polar Bear Ever Killed. Lives On Seals And Fish. 
Spends It’s Life On The Ice And In The Water of The Arctic Region.”

From Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear And Loathing In Elko", Rolling Stone #622, 

January 1992:  We entered the hotel through the Casino entrance. The Judge 

seemed calm and focused until we rounded the corner and came face to face with 

an eleven-foot polar bear standing on its hind legs, ready to pounce. The Judge 

turned to jelly at the sight of it. "I've had enough of this goddamn beast," he shouted.

" It doesn't belong here. We should blow its head off." I took him by the arm 

"Calm down, Judge," I told him. "That's White King. He's been dead for about 

thirty-three years." ... Read More….[**The Judge of course being one Clarence 

Thomas**] www.textfiles.com/politics/elko

We went into the restaurant and found a menu heavy on meat. Would you like 

meat with your meat? This was to be the diet in Elko. Not a place for vegans.

I had a lot of time on my hands and no car so I walked Elko. It’s not very big so it 

didn’t take that long. I found the local cemetery which seemed to be in three parts. 

One very elegant and well looked after.

The second was ramshackle and full of plastic flowers and toys.

The third was made of tombs and mausoleums.

Down town there was a very sad fashion emporium. The sort with dead flies in 

the window and mannequins missing body parts.

There was a lovely wig head that was so badly looked after I felt sorry for it. 

It should have been in New York.

I visited the Western Folklife Centre located in a converted hotel. It had a 

surprisingly interesting exhibition tracing the origins of the Basque culture and

its ties to the Elko community. There was an air of excitement as they were 

preparing for the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering that was happening the 

next week. Unfortunately we weren’t able to stay for it and the accompanying 

celebrations of food and music. And Cowboy Poetry.

We ate at the local Basque restaurant. Do you want more meat with your meat? 

And all the other casino restaurants. Do you want more meat with your meat? 

We didn’t visit any of the brothels. Do you want meat with your meat?

We didn’t visit the bowling alley or the gun shops. We probably missed a lot. 

I did visit a local gift shop and bought a little tin shrine with plastic horses and a 

cactus. It fell apart in the suitcase on the way home.

We enjoyed the five minute rides it took to see the night lights of Elko.

I walked around recording the architecture of small town America and bizarrely 

found a hotel selling Australian beer.

I had a great time but five days seemed like a month.

Elko’s motto is “The Best Small Town in America”. It’s the only one I’ve seen so 

I’ll have to take their word for it.

 We had another stunning drive back to Salt Lake City but that’s another story.

Meeting tommequins and other insanity

There are many rules on web etiquette. Don’t use your real name. Don’t give out
personal details.  Don’t meet up with anyone you meet on the web.  And definitely
don’t travel over-seas to  meet up with anyone. Well I was about to travel to meet
 somebody I didn’t know, who came  across as being just a little odd on the web.
 I was going to meet tommequins.

A couple of years ago I joined the Flickr community. At the beginning I didn’t really
know how it worked and how you made contacts. There was no rhyme or reason in
the material I  put up. Professional work and happy snaps; everything went up.

For years I have been shooting reflections in shop windows and I put some of these on
line. Finally I started getting comments. A group of fashion professionals and mannequin collectors  started to tell me the names and manufacturers of the mannequins that I had been shooting. I was inducted into the arcane world of mannequin collectors.

Of particular interest were the photographs of mannequins by a company called Rootstein.

Adel Rootstein started in the 1960’s in swinging London. She was the first to use real people

 as a reference for her mannequins and her designs have a bit of a cult following.

One of the Flickrites who contacted me was tommequins. I noticed on his stream that
he had  been to the Rootstein Showroom in New York to see their new season’s mannequins. I was  going to New York and mailed him to see if he could give me a contact so that I could go there to  take photographs. Tommequins came up with a better idea. He would meet me at the showroom and drive me back to his place in Upper New York State to see his mannequin collection as well. Tommequins collects, restores and repairs mannequins as well as a thousand other things.

My husband was concerned and asked for all the details. Where was I going, who was I seeing  and what were their contact details. My information was pretty sketchy.

I dutifully arrived at the showroom and the staff  were fantastic. They put on the light 
and sound show that had accompanied the seasons launch and just left me to take
whatever  shots I wanted. The theme was Native American Indians and the costuming
was sensational.

Tommequins  arrived dressed appropriately in an Indian themed jacket. Introductions
were made and everything seemed alright. But then he decided to become part of the window display.  He lay down and put his ponytail in the hands of an Indian. It looked
as if he was being dragged off for a scalping. OK it was going to be an interesting day.

As we drove into his town I looked around and realised that it would be a perfect setting

for The Stepford Wives. Everything was perfect. The shops were all the same with very discreet signage; neon signs are forbidden and colours are prescribed. It was all so neat.
As we drove  through the equally neat back streets of trimmed hedges and raked lawns tommequins asked if I could guess which property was his. It was really easy. I guessed
that the property with the giant mannequins  and junk everywhere was his. The yard
even had a wire enclosure that was full of unloved naked mannequins. The neighbours
 must love the family next door.

There are several homes on the property and I was to discover that every basement
was full of mannequins in various stages of repair and disrepair. Tommequins introduced me to his brother who is also a collector; they both had the same maniacal twinkle in their eyes. What had I got myself into?

The first basement we visited was reached through a side entrance. As the doors were
thrown back all I could see were the spider webs stretching into the long, dark distance.
I’m an arachnophobe so made tommequins go first to break the webs. It was very dark and
that hid the spiders. But once I was down  there I forgot about them as I saw the amazing
sight before me. Talk about Kodak moments.

Tommequins’s brother came with us and as I edged through a door to capture more delights I heard him say “no-one knows where she is.....we could lock the door and leave her”. Hmm.

They told me a story of when the boiler in one of the basements needed repair. They arranged for the repairman to attend. Within a few minutes of his arrival he rang them saying that he was  too freaked out to stay and they needed to get someone else. All those bodies looking at him was just  too much. Fabulous setting for a teen horror flick.

The next basement looked as if a mannequin massacre had occurred. Body pieces
strewn everywhere. More cobwebs. More spiders.

We visited the studio which is where all the repairs are carried out. Every room 
including a toilet and every surface was crowded with heads.

 The variety is extraordinary ranging from very old wax heads from France to a
wonderful array of Art Deco displays.

We went through his home which has another wonderful collection. Every room in 
the house  is peopled with mannequins. If a burglar ever made the mistake of breaking
in, you’d hear them screaming as they ran away to hand themselves in. A place of nightmares.

His daughter has a couple of full-sized Rootstein Barbie Dolls, they are very precious to her.

 On being introduced to her tommequins told her that" the nice lady had come to take the Barbies on a plane back to Australia”. To her credit there was a little twitch of the lip and
a wince but then  she said very quietly “OK”.

 

I was introduced to his wife and breathed a sigh of relief at a modicum of normality. The first thing she asked me was if I believed in burial or cremation. Well so much for small talk.

It was a day of amazing visual over-load. Starting at the exquisite Rootstein Showroom 
and ending in a few creepy basements. Back in New York I rang my husband and let him know that I had survived the day.

He didn’t believe my description of the things I had seen until he saw the photographs.
Back in New York I celebrated a great day.

Visiting tommequins and his basements are now highlights of my annual trip to New York.

PS.  Thanks to all the mannequin set for your encouragement and advice.

I hope to eventually meet you all.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/dianeworland/sets/72157623260592773/