In closing my Sun Valley story, I’d like to talk about utilities and how we had to entertain ourselves.
In the early days of Sun Valley, there was very little electricity or telephone service. Harry Gepford’s original Sun Valley subdivision consisted of 3,000 acres, but very few people lived here. Residents relied on kerosene lamps and Coleman lanterns for light and heated their homes with wood stoves or oil-burning stoves. (It sounds a lot like what we do today when we go camping.)
In July 1948, all 40 residents signed a petition to create a power district. Two and a half years later they were approached by Sierra Pacific Power (now NV Energy), which told them there simply weren’t enough customers and that extending power lines into the valley would be too expensive.
Fortunately, the Rural Electrification Administration (R.E.A.) was already providing electricity to the Portola area. After approval was received from Washington, D.C., the R.E.A. arranged for power to be extended into Sun Valley. Sierra Pacific complained there were too many miles between Reno and Sun Valley with nothing in between, but they eventually complied with the R.E.A.’s plan.
Once the power lines were installed, the telephone company shared the same poles. Everyone was on party lines, meaning each household had its own distinctive ring. Ours was two long rings and one short ring. Our neighbors might have had three long rings or another combination. It wasn’t unusual to pick up the receiver and hear one of your neighbors already talking.
As kids, we’d dial “POPCORN” (767-2676) to hear the correct time. We also played practical jokes, like calling someone and asking, “Is your refrigerator running?” When they answered, “Yes,” we’d tell them, “You’d better go catch it!”
Electronics as we know them today didn’t exist yet. There was only one television station, and most homes had an AM radio. Computers were still science fiction, and there was no public transportation. We had to entertain ourselves.
We hiked the surrounding hills—which I still do today at 75 years old—caught lizards and snakes, and shot our BB guns. We rode our used bicycles on nearly every street in the valley and got to know all our neighbors, both the good and the bad.
We’d ride out to the granite pits at the end of 9th Avenue (now Highland Ranch Road). It was a fun ride out, but coming back was all uphill. We’d also spend hours riding in “The Pits” near 7th Street and Sun Valley Drive, pushing our bikes to the top of the hill and racing downhill. After doing that three or four times, we were worn out.
During the 1960s, “The Pits” became the site of motorcycle races called scrambles, now better known as motocross. The county eventually fenced off the area to keep us out, but we’d cut the fence and go right back in. Sometimes the sheriff would show up, kick us out, and threaten to take us to juvenile hall. We’d simply cut another opening in the fence—usually on the opposite side—so we’d have an escape route into the hills. Those were fun times.
We spent countless hours at friends’ houses playing basketball, baseball in the dirt, trading baseball cards, working on our bicycles, and building model cars. As we got older, bicycles turned into motorcycles, and eventually we were working on our hot rods.
Today, as I drive through the valley, it saddens me to see how much has changed—for better and for worse. Rising mobile home space rents and the increasing cost of water have made it difficult for many residents to keep up their yards. There are still a lot of good people living here, but too often you only hear about the bad apples.
One thing hasn’t changed: Neighbors still help neighbors. Sun Valley residents continue to fight to make the valley a better place, and the people who call it home are a special breed.
I am proud to have grown up in Sun Valley, and I will always be proud to call it home. I’d like to thank the Washoe County Assessor’s Office, the Washoe County Recorder’s Office, the University of Nevada, Reno, the Nevada Bureau of Mines and Geology, the Sparks Tribune, and SV Insider for allowing me to share these stories over the past several months.
Finally, I’d like to thank the few “old-timers” who still live here in the valley. Your memories helped preserve a piece of Sun Valley’s history that might otherwise have been forgotten.
Thank you for taking this journey with me.
So long,
Gary Moore
Related Article:
