By Maggie Magoffin
The sky above Quartz Hill glowed in vibrant hues of orange and gold. The pungent odor of burning timber carried on the chilling night air. Thick black smoke crept down the embankment toward Nevada City. The women in town stood in the streets watching and waiting for news. At the first sign of the fire, their husbands and sons grabbed axes, buckets and shovels and hurried up the hill. Fire was a common occurrence in the mountain towns of Colorado – a catastrophe which could destroy and entire city in only hours.
It was in the spring of 1864, shortly after the closing of the Casey Mine, when the morning sun dawned bright on the charred, smoldering remains of a cabin once belonging to a miner, his wife, and young daughter. Little was known about the family other than the man worked for Pat Casey, his wife was Ute Indian and they had a daughter named Nellie.
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