Edward Lawrence SchiefFelin’s story seems like somethingnmade up by a Hollywood writer long on clichenand short on imagination, for his silver strike epitomized thenhopes and dreams of every sourdough prospector who evernwandered the lonely mountains, valleys, and streams of thenAmerican West. For years he searched in vain, living on thenedge of starvation while nourishing hopes of discovering anbonanza.nIn the summer of 1877 Schieffelin was in southernnArizona, still the haunt of bronco Apaches lifting scalps,nprospecting the San Pedro Valley. When he came in to FortnHuachuca to get supplies, the soldiers would ask if he hadnfound anything. When he replied that he had not yet madena discovery, they told him all he would find would be hisntombstone.nThe result of his search was his fabulous mine discoverynthe following year. Some of the ore assayed at $12,000 ton$15,000 a ton in silver and $1,200 to $1,500 in gold.nWhat followed was predictable — it had happened manyntimes before in the West. There was a boom that broughtnthousands to the region. In 1879 a city arose, its 15,000nOdie B. Faulk is emeritus professor of history atnNortheastern State University in Oklahoma.n8/CHRONICLESnPERSPECTIVEnEpitaph for Tombstonenby Odie B. Faulknnnresidents making it the largest community between SannAntonio and San Francisco. And with the wry humor fornwhich the West was noted, the town was named Tombstone,nand its leading newspaper was dubbed the Epitaph.nThe Tombstone district was a place of hard-rock mining,nwhich required large capital investment to erect the necessaryncrushing mills and sink shafts through granite. Thenminers in the region were company employees, men whosentoil was monotonous and back-breaking — a ten-hour shiftnbelow ground mucking and drilling for $3.50 a day. Whennthey got off work, they returned to their primitive shacks fornuninviting meals of coffee, beans, and greasy pork. Undernsuch conditions they suffered from many diseases, amongnthem diarrhea, dysentery, chills, fever, and malaria.nMen who led such lives could not find sufficient relaxationnby sitting around and playing cards with each other, fornmost of them were young, vigorous, and single. So theynwent where the lights were bright. There they drank andngambled and lied, and many sought the brief company ofn”doves of the roost,” the girls who plied the most ancient ofntrades — and who died all too soon of disease or whiskey ornopium.nHowever, most residents of Tombstone were respectable,nfamily people who hoped for and dreamed of a better futuren