The desert held him for her own as she does all old-timers. He was under the "terrible fascination," wrote Edna Brush Perkins about her encounter with Francis Marion "Shady" Myrick, the famous Death Valley gemstone prospector. Perkins'The White Heart of Mojave (1922) is a noted desert classic about two wealthy women traveling across the Mojave Desert to Death Valley. Admitting that in the rush of things she did not even learn his Christian name, Mrs. Perkins nevertheless acknowledges Shady Myrick with four pages in her book. Obviously, she was deeply impressed by the man. "Everyone knew Shady," she told her readers. Shady was not, however, the stereotypical miner we often encounter in Western tales, the cranky, miserly misanthrope who had turned his back on civilization, but a kindly, trustworthy sort. Mrs. Perkins recalled Shady's gifts of gold and jasper just before she and her companion departed for their journey to Death Valley.

Although Shady remains something of a blurred figure smiling at us out of the shadows of the years, we now have the advantage on Mrs. Perkins. Due to recent research, we can not only put flesh on the outline of Shady's life; we can see him as one key to understanding the Mojave's larger story—and perhaps to understanding all of us who dream Western dreams.

Shady Myrick turns out to have been, as best we can tell, not only a good fellow and the Mojave's earliest white collector of semiprecious stones, but a man of civic pride, a natty dresser when he went out to civilization, and something of a cultural icon. Reporters in the coastal cities of Southern California were always glad to see Shady on their streets. He offered a ready source of copy for their newspapers. A likable desert rat hardly shy when it came to talking about his dreams and his prospects, Shady periodically appeared out of what was still considered wild country to spin lively tales for journalists' readers.

He told them how when he became lonely out there in the wastelands he would talk to Jack and Old Bluey, his two faithful burros, and how once he stumbled upon a fabulous ledge of gold. It was just what the nation at the time wanted to hear, a West described as full of exciting possibilities, the dreams that we, too, long to share. Shady was a man much like us—or as we might like to be. He was always welcome wherever he went. He lived in a cave. He followed his visions through the desert heat. A bit of mystery clung to Shady, as we would perhaps like mystery to cling to us.

Shady Myrick at Lead Springs camp, c.1920. Pictured, l-r, is Wilson Parker Lightburn, Shady, Ana Pearl Lightburn (Shady's niece), and George B. Lightburn.