Elmer Yokum Dunlap

ON AUGUST 14, 1864, while still not yet sixteen years old, Elmer enlisted for service in the Civil War, mustering in from Cedar Township, Boone County, Missouri, to Company F of the 49th Missouri Infantry. His term of service was one year. Military records describe him as standing five feet three inches tall, with dark hair and dark eyes.

The 49th Missouri Volunteer Infantry Regiment was organized in August and September of 1864 at Warrenton, Missouri, and served for twelve months under the command of Colonel David Patterson Dyer. The regiment participated in the defense of Missouri during General Sterling Price’s 1864 raid and was later assigned to protect various points throughout central and northeastern Missouri. In February 1865, the regiment was consolidated and sent south to take part in the Mobile Campaign, including the Battle of Spanish Fort. Following the end of the war, the unit was garrisoned at Montgomery, Alabama.

For Elmer, the war’s end marked the beginning of a restless life. Like many veterans of his generation, he moved steadily west, appearing in Cottonwood, Tehama County, California, by 1869, where he worked as a laborer and prospected for gold and silver. By 1875 he was living in Nye County, Nevada, employed as a teamster. He was in Bodie, Mono County, California, in 1878, still working as a teamster, followed by Tuscarora, Nevada, in 1880. In 1890 he was living in the Belleville–Candelaria area, and by 1900 he had settled in Sodaville, Nevada, where he was working as a mechanical engineer. In each of these places, Dunlap became an active member of the community, serving as a trial juror and participating in local social and civic affairs.

Hearing of the mining excitement in Tonopah, Dunlap left Sodaville on November 24, 1900, on a prospecting trip. He settled easily into the fledgling camp and immediately involved himself in its growth and welfare, donating a No. 8 cookstove so that meals could be prepared for the miners. Once convinced the camp had secured a firm foothold, he was among the first to recommend that a newspaper be established. A brief notice in the August 10, 1901, edition of the newly founded Tonopah Bonanza reported that “all members of the Knights of Pythias are requested to assemble at the assay office of Elmer Dunlap at 8 o’clock sharp, Tuesday evening next. If found advisable, a lodge will be instituted here.” By December 21, 1901, Dunlap and several associates had incorporated the Tonopah Extension Mining Company under the laws of the State of Nevada.

By January 11, 1902, it had all come to an abrupt end. Dunlap was among the first in the new camp to succumb to pneumonia. His obituary was lengthy and heartfelt, with the editor writing, “Elmer Dunlap was a man of singularly lovable character. Honor and integrity were inseparable parts of his nature. He was full of manliness and of good will to his fellow men. The number of his friends could be gauged by the number of his acquaintances.” Shortly before his death, Dunlap executed a will leaving his property to close friends and business partners and bequeathing $500—nearly $19,000 in today’s dollars—to the Miners’ Union Hospital. He met death as he had met the vicissitudes of life, tranquilly and courageously.
His funeral, which was universally attended, was held under the auspices of the old soldiers of Tonopah, members of the Grand Army of the Republic, ex-soldiers of the late war, and others. The Bonanza concluded its tribute by observing that “kindly memories of the lamented citizen will linger long in the minds of all familiar with the early history of Tonopah.”

Even in death, drama and uncertainty followed Elmer Dunlap. Four years after his passing, the April 2, 1906, edition of the Jefferson City Tribune reported that Dunlap had died leaving a fortune of $750,000 in Nevada and that “somebody is wanted to take the money.” Anyone claiming kinship was urged to contact B. F. Mills in Tonopah. When Dunlap left Missouri, he had written regularly to his brothers and sisters for several years, but his letters eventually ceased, and the family came to believe he had died without leaving a trace.

In the wake of the article, two men claiming to be attorneys arrived in Topeka, where Dunlap’s surviving siblings still lived. They informed the family that Elmer’s estate had gone largely unclaimed and that nearly every dollar had already been expended in advertising for his heirs. They persuaded two of the siblings to grant them power of attorney over what remained, charging “only half the value of the estate” for their services. A third brother, however, refused to sign anything, insisting on investigating the matter himself. After retaining legal counsel, the scheme was exposed, and Dunlap’s four siblings each inherited $62,000.

Elmer Yokum Dunlap was not a famous man, nor was he without mystery. He was a soldier in his youth, a wanderer in a restless West, and a steady, generous presence in Tonopah at the moment it first struggled into being. His life ended before the camp he helped nurture could fully flourish, yet his influence was felt long after his passing. Remembering men like Dunlap—whose names might otherwise fade with time—is the quiet work of the Old Tonopah Cemetery, where history endures not in spectacle, but in lives faithfully lived and carefully remembered.