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Show IdDdD Yesairs Agn TTaixiay Sweet sound of smelter returns hv liettina Mnench Doolry There was an air of happiness in Park City the week of July 26, 1884. The Park Mining Record reported that the Park City Smeltering Company was back to work, after an apparent shutdown because of a lack of sufficient quantities of ore to separate. The fact that there was a local smelter was in itself pleasing to the citizens. Until 1880, raw ore was hauled on horseback or cart to the nearest smelter in Sandy, Utah, more than 50 miles away. Now metals could be separated from the ore right in town, greatly increasing mining productivity. The sounds of the smelter became a daily part of Park City life, and the consistency of the noise became a gauge by which the townspeople could measure their security. And so it was with obvious joy that the Record noted that "The smelter has been running for the past week, and the familiar sound of its whistle makes one feel as though good times were going to come to the Park again." In addition to the start-up of the smelter, there was also construction on a new tramway to give work to the many men who were unemployed. The Record described was disturbed by the report of a pistol, and people began gathering at the Scandanavian saloon," reported the Record. In what the newspaper termed an "unprovoked t attack," Sam Howell shot John Strom in the neck. In a town where lives revolved around the promise of silver hiding underground, it might be guessed that the attack was a result of a mine claim dispute. But the Record noted placidly that the shooting had occurred because Howell was hot under the collar that he hadn't been invited to join' Strom and his buddies at their table for a drink. "This Howell is a bad citizen," accused the Record, "and we hope at his trial that he gets a year in the Pen." Howell's transgression was nothing compared to Michael Murphy's. Just a week earlier, Murphy shot and killed Patrick Egan, a man well liked by all in Park City. According to a man named Dwyer, who was riding with Murphy and Egan up to the Sampson mine, the three of them were laughing and joking, and there was no hint of trouble brewing. Dwyer said he rode ahead a ways, and suddenly heard a shot. Moments later Murphy passed him at a full gallop. Dwyer rode back and found Egan, who with his dying breath accused Murphy of shooting him . At his trial, Murphy offered no defense for his actions, and came to the courtroom without an attorney. ' The judge ordered him confined in the Coalville jail until the grand jury convened in September to discuss Murphy's fate. With two shootings in one week, Parkites were shaking their heads and wondering what was happening to their town. the route the new Crescent Tramway would take: "Along the hill back of Judge Snyder's house, thence up Nigger Gulch, thence in a westerly direction to Thaynes Canyon, thence along the side hill to the mouth of Aetna Tunnel. The route across the hill back of Snyder's to the Smelter has not been decided yet." (A remaining bit of evidence of the route can be found today between Norfolk and Empire Avenues, where a narrow road that winds between houses is known simply as Crescent Tram.) The new tramway would allow the Crescent Company to move its ore down from the mines in a more rapid and reliable manner than packing it on an animal's back. The Record commented that the route chosen for the tramway was about the best the topography offered : It had a vertical rise of about 400 feet per mile, and traversed hillsides that were comparatively free of snow that may have come suddenly cascading down the mountain to demolish the tram. Despite a rosier employment picture, the men still had enough free time to stir up some trouble on occasion. "The quiet air of the day |