This is our third and final ghost story for October, and it's one of my personal favorites. You'll see versions of it on the web, in mountain eatery's, in and around Alma (which is about 18 miles south of Breckenridge) and Alma's grave yard.
The story comes from Buckskin Joe, which was a small mining camp a couple miles west of present-day Alma. Today, Buckskin Joe is one of many ghost towns in the mountains of Colorado, but back-in-the day it was the County Seat of Park County. (Today, Fairplay - about 6 miles farther south than Buckskin Joe - is the county seat and has a restored 1880s mining town, South Park City.) The picture below is the original courthouse from Buckskin Joe.
The town of Buckskin Joe started life as a mining camp and grew tremendously during the 1850s during the gold rush. Once the gold was mined out the population dwindled to a handful.
Silverheels was a dance hall girl. No one remembers her real name, but she was very beautiful and an accomplished dancer when she appeared in Buckskin Joe's during the height of the gold rush. She quickly became a favorite.
As was the custom in early gold mining camps, fans showed appreciation by tossing "pokes" (small leather bags) of gold dust on stage at her feet. She accumulated enough from the pokes to build a small cabin across the stream from camp. Legend says she accumulated a small fortune by saving gold from the pokes. One admirer fashioned a pair of solid silver heels for her dancing slippers. The silver heels became her trademark and the source of her nickname, Silverheels.
Then, in 1861 disaster stuck in the form of a smallpox epidemic. Most of the miners stayed in camp for fear of claim jumpers, while most of the women and children were sent to Fairplay or Denver. Silverheels, however, choose to stay behind in camp.
She transformed herself from dancer to devoted nurse and took care of the sick and comforted the dying. Many men died of the highly contagious and usually fatal disease while cradled in her arms.
Inevitably, she caught smallpox as well but did survive. Her beautiful face was disfigured by pockmarks. When the epidemic had finally run its course, the "Angel of Mercy" left town but returned often to offer prayers at the graves.
If you visit Alma today and seek out the area of Buckskin Joe's, you may see a figure moving along in the long abandoned graveyard. She's elegantly dressed in Victorian-era finery. She wears a long, black, silk dress and a black, silk broad-rimmed hat. The hat holds a heavy veil preserving the privacy of her grief, and shielding her face from view.
The original wooden grave markers have long since rotted away, but you can bet Silverheels knows where each and every one is. She moves slowly from one grave to another, placing a single red rose and offering at prayer at each. She may seem oblivious to the living, but if you try and approach she'll disappear. This is the ghost of Silverheels.
The grateful citizens who survived the epidemic name a nearby peak Mount Silverheels in her honor. A pic of it is shown below. It stands 13,825 feet high.
