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Volume 032-1 - January 1978 (6 pages)

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Page: of 6

Nevada County Courthouse, where George Butts heard final pronouncement of his sentence
and where one member of the audience had delicacy enough to lower the blinds so that Butts
would not have to look out on the instrument designed to take his life.
Nevada City to the parade center and
devote the rest of the day to hand
shaking, social enjoyment and this
fitting climax with attendance at the
grand ball in Hamilton Hall.
Two days later, an accident
robbed the county of any post holiday
merriment and one of its most
illustrious and beloved sons. The
Honorable William Watts, former
senator and highly regarded mine
owner, was fatally injured when the
horses pulling his wagon bolted and
threw him to the ground. “A noble
hearted man,” the Transcript mourned.
“The poor man’s friend and the rich
man’s counselor.” A special train was
run for those who wanted to attend the
services. Businesses in both Nevada
City and Grass Valley were closed for
the occasion and the funeral was said to
have been the largest ever held in
Nevada County and one of the largest
in the state.
Toward the middle of July, the
final touches were put on the telephone
connecting the South Yuba Canal
Company Office with the Big Tunnel,
22 miles away. There were five stations
on the line, the Main Office, lumber
yard office, Cascade Ditch, the V4,
Flume Mill and the Big Tunnel. The
device was explained in primer
language to the people who had heard
of the invention but never had seenitin
operation. Titled heads of the
companies involved took their stations
to chat on the incredible instrument. Up
at the V-Flume Mill, Foreman L.M.
Sukeforth prepared to verbalize his
sentiments for posterity. Then came
the question from the South Yuba
Canal Office: “Say, Sukeforth, do you
think there would be any real
satisfaction in sparking a girl through
a telephone?” Sukeforth’s explosive
answer was difficult to translate.
By month’s end, Nevada County
had scored another first. It was listed
as having more dogs than any other
section in the state (a record, it is to be
presumed, that is still held.)
July closed with a total eclipse of
the sun on the 30th. Nevada County
was not in the direct path, but by 2:30
p.m., when the obscuration was at its
greatest, the “atmosphere assumed a
weird tinge peculiar to such occasions.”
With the advent of August, George
Butts was settling into his eighth month
lived in agonizing limbo. Was he to die at
the end of a rope, or was his sentence to
be reprieved? The answer was delivered
with sadness and regret by the same
man who had tried unsuccessfully to win
clemency from the Governor, Reverend
George Davis. “The Supreme Court will
offer you no relief,” the Reverend told
Butts. Butts accepted the message
stoically, but two days later, when a
Transcript reporter visited him for an
interview, it was apparent the burden of
the Reverend’s words had taken their
toll. The reporter found Butts with “eyes
sunken and wandering. The pallor of his
cheeks was startling. He seemed
incapable of collecting his thoughts and
acknowledged that a great cloud had
settled upon his soul, crowding out all
other considerations.’’ He was
courteous to the reporter and closed the
interview by saying, “Before I am
executed, I shall tell you a number of
things that will be of great interest to
your readers.”
By August’s ripe center, however,
there was little cause to brood on
hangings or on death. The weather was
a tease, the season a temptress. On the
evening of August 14, the light of foot
and frivolous of heart doled out their
one dollar and fifty centses and boarded
the Narrow Gauge for the Moonlight
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