Documentary recalls the historical resilience of Death Valley women
Our waitress peered out the window, “Only time we see this many cars is when the lotto is up over $800 million,” she said, slightly astonished.
The Pahrump Valley Times caught up with filmmaker Ted Faye and historian Robin Flinchum in Shoshone for the screening of their new documentary, “The Women Who Haunt Her.” Cars jockeyed for position around the Flower Building, next to the Crowbar and Shoshone Museum, where that mammoth skeleton sheds light on the secrets of this desert landscape.
In his series, “Weird Tales” (available on Tubi platform) Faye has covered mummified giants found in caves under Death Valley, Amargosa Opera House’s Marta Becket’s stories of ghostly hauntings, and underground cities of ancient reptoid aliens. Must-see TV for folks who proudly call the Mojave Desert home.
I expected him to make an entrance by crawling out of a tiny hole descending to hollow earth or riding in on a twenty-mule team, as he did in his films. Instead, he casually strolled in with the confidence of a master filmmaker to address the fifty or so attendees who gathered. He spoke with humility and appreciation, acknowledging those that made this happen: Robin Flinchum, Tim France, Telly Eliades, Nevada Humanities and the Shoshone Museum.
The projector fired up and the lives of three very different women, pioneers of the Death Valley country, were brought to life in this new documentary.
In this thought-provoking film narrated by local historian and author Robin Flinchum, we visit the sites and hear the stories of courageous women of Death Valley. In different scenes, Robin interviews consultants and scholars who provide additional insight about these characters.
After forty-five minutes, the documentary ended, lights came up, and Robin took the stage for a Q &A.
“Death Valley can be brutally unforgiving. I’ve always been drawn to the stories of women who came before me. It feels like I am haunted by them. Not like ghosts but like guides. It feels like I am walking in their footsteps. To make it out here, you have to have a strong core and when challenged, it grows stronger. An unbreakable core. Able to take on any hardship. Women like Celeste, like Mona Bell, made beauty wherever they went.”
Also present was Brian Brown, the grandson of Stella Fairbanks, whose story was featured in the film. Brian stood up to echo Robin’s sentiment. “Mojave was one of the last places to be settled. Most people were just passing through. The people who stayed endured stuff that would make the average person run away screaming. My grandmother, Stella, used to tell us stories about going to the creek to wet the bed sheets many times on hot nights.”
Pandemonium broke out when the topic turned to the Great Panic of 1907, when stock-selling scams contributed to the downfall of the town of Rhyolite.
A man in the audience shouted, “I have a mine to sell ya!”
A wooly attendee stood to ask, “What about the mummified giants under us? Were any of them women?”
Longtime resident, Three Moon, Jehane Rucquoi, ended the Q &A by commenting, “You can do whatever you want here, but you have to build it yourself.”
“The Women Who Haunt Her” is slated to make the film festival circuit, with later screenings planned in Las Vegas. After completing its festival run, the documentary will be available on YouTube or another streaming platform.
Ted Faye can be contacted at coldcreekfilms@gmail.com. And check out Robin Flinchum’s book “Red Light Women of Death Valley.”
I briefly said hello to Ted after the Q &A and mentioned I was impressed that in “Weird Tales” he managed to squirm through a claustrophobia-inducing shaft connecting two caves, barely larger than himself, deep under Death Valley, narrating the entire time.
He chuckled, “Yeah, two weeks later a National Geographic producer came out to that hole and refused to do the crawl.”
Eric Coleman is a freelance reporter living in Pahrump whose political cartoons appear weekly in the Pahrump and Tonopah newspapers. Contact him at ericjamescoleman@gmail.com.
