In the September of 2001, I had come to Ely, Nevada to visit a friend. The two of us had spent the better part of the day and evening touring Ruth and Ely, as I am a major history buff. Thoroughly exhausted, I went back to room 515 in the Nevada Hotel and went to bed. I sat up in bed to watch TV until I could relax enough to go to sleep.
The next thing I knew, I was standing at the window looking down at a parade on a sunny day. I noticed that the vehicles in the parade and the manner of dress of the participants and spectators appeared to be of a much earlier time period. Also, the street appeared to have been made of packed dirt and was not paved. It looked as if it had been muddy at one time and vehicle tires going over it had caused groves in the mud with the sides frozen upwards. The automobiles were not decorated as in a modern parade and the occupants were not in costume.
The people all appeared to be dressed in what would seem to be their finest clothes for the time period. The automobiles in the parade were those of a much earlier day. The ones that were parked on the sides of the street were parked at an angle, unlike the parallel parking of today. Some of the parade participants walked in front of the moving cars and waved at the people lining the street. It appeared more of a political parade than one celebrating a holiday, though I did not observe any signs or banners.
The spectators cheered as the cars passed by and those who were walking waved and smiled. The women all wore long dresses that hung down to the ground. As I watched, transfixed, through the window, I noticed a woman walking at the head of the stream of cars. I watched her waving and smiling, and I observed that her dress was a bright yellow color with three burgundy-colored bands decorating the hem. The sleeves of her dress were puffy at the shoulders and tapered to snugly fit her arms and ended without cuffs, at the wrists.
While I was admiring her dress, I noticed that she was about to step onto a patch of ice on the street. There was nothing I could do from my room and I held my breath as I saw a man rush from the sidelines, and as the woman fell to one knee he grabbed her elbow.
It was then that I awakened in my bed. It was still night. The experience seemed so real I set about looking for photos of the street as it had appeared in my "dream". It bothered me that it had all seemed so real, yet nothing I had observed was anything like the present town of Ely and the street had been packed dirt, whereas it is in reality, paved.
I decided it was just a very realistic dream and had almost abandoned hope of ever finding anything to verify what I'd seen when I went to breakfast at the Big Apple restaurant. Imagine my delight when I saw a photo in their hall that looked similar to the street I had seen. I went all over town trying to find anything else that looked like the Ely of my dream, but could find nothing. All I found were references to the Kennicot Mine and railroads.
I had given up when someone suggested I look at the White Pine County Museum. There I was assisted in my search by a wonderful woman named Opie. I described my experience to her and she was able to show me a copy of the photo that hangs in the Big Apple café. I mentioned to her that I had made a mistake in my dream because I had seen the street as being nothing but dirt. "Oh, they didn't pave the streets until the late twenties," she informed me. "Up until then they were just dirt."
I had seen nothing that looks like present day Ely. I had seen it as it had once been. Nothing in my "dream" was of the present. Even the vehicles were old-time models, yet they all appeared in perfect condition as one would expect of a vehicle in constant use. Opie and I came to the conclusion that I had somehow skipped back in time. Someday I hope to once again stay in room 515 and perhaps have another experience.
The next thing I knew, I was standing at the window looking down at a parade on a sunny day. I noticed that the vehicles in the parade and the manner of dress of the participants and spectators appeared to be of a much earlier time period. Also, the street appeared to have been made of packed dirt and was not paved. It looked as if it had been muddy at one time and vehicle tires going over it had caused groves in the mud with the sides frozen upwards. The automobiles were not decorated as in a modern parade and the occupants were not in costume.
The people all appeared to be dressed in what would seem to be their finest clothes for the time period. The automobiles in the parade were those of a much earlier day. The ones that were parked on the sides of the street were parked at an angle, unlike the parallel parking of today. Some of the parade participants walked in front of the moving cars and waved at the people lining the street. It appeared more of a political parade than one celebrating a holiday, though I did not observe any signs or banners.
The spectators cheered as the cars passed by and those who were walking waved and smiled. The women all wore long dresses that hung down to the ground. As I watched, transfixed, through the window, I noticed a woman walking at the head of the stream of cars. I watched her waving and smiling, and I observed that her dress was a bright yellow color with three burgundy-colored bands decorating the hem. The sleeves of her dress were puffy at the shoulders and tapered to snugly fit her arms and ended without cuffs, at the wrists.
While I was admiring her dress, I noticed that she was about to step onto a patch of ice on the street. There was nothing I could do from my room and I held my breath as I saw a man rush from the sidelines, and as the woman fell to one knee he grabbed her elbow.
It was then that I awakened in my bed. It was still night. The experience seemed so real I set about looking for photos of the street as it had appeared in my "dream". It bothered me that it had all seemed so real, yet nothing I had observed was anything like the present town of Ely and the street had been packed dirt, whereas it is in reality, paved.
I decided it was just a very realistic dream and had almost abandoned hope of ever finding anything to verify what I'd seen when I went to breakfast at the Big Apple restaurant. Imagine my delight when I saw a photo in their hall that looked similar to the street I had seen. I went all over town trying to find anything else that looked like the Ely of my dream, but could find nothing. All I found were references to the Kennicot Mine and railroads.
I had given up when someone suggested I look at the White Pine County Museum. There I was assisted in my search by a wonderful woman named Opie. I described my experience to her and she was able to show me a copy of the photo that hangs in the Big Apple café. I mentioned to her that I had made a mistake in my dream because I had seen the street as being nothing but dirt. "Oh, they didn't pave the streets until the late twenties," she informed me. "Up until then they were just dirt."
I had seen nothing that looks like present day Ely. I had seen it as it had once been. Nothing in my "dream" was of the present. Even the vehicles were old-time models, yet they all appeared in perfect condition as one would expect of a vehicle in constant use. Opie and I came to the conclusion that I had somehow skipped back in time. Someday I hope to once again stay in room 515 and perhaps have another experience.
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