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Photo courtesy of the Atomic Testing Museum This gleaming metal counter serves as both the ticket booth for the Atomic Testing Museum and as a reminder of the 1950s era during which Nevada was the site of numerous atomic bomb tests.
By Richard Moreno
About 30 miles south of Gardnerville is an unremarkable patch of land that was once the center of a hurricane of controversy involving the right to claim water in rain clouds.
In December 1947, Nevada rancher Dick Haman and partner Freeman Fairfield filed a claim to all the water clouds passing over their 12,300-acre spread near Topaz Lake (located adjacent to the Holbrook Junction).
While Haman's claim was certainly not the most outrageous water scheme to come down the pipe, the action did show the lengths to which desert dwellers will go to find water.
In their application with the state water engineer, the two claimants revealed their plan: "We intend to shoot the clouds by the latest methods known in starting rainfalls and snowstorms. Coaxing clouds to rain has recently been developed, after 300 years of known experiments by individuals, states and countries."
About 30 miles south of Gardnerville is an unremarkable patch of land that was once the center of a hurricane of controversy involving the right to claim water in rain clouds.
In December 1947, Nevada rancher Dick Haman and partner Freeman Fairfield filed a claim to all the water clouds passing over their 12,300-acre spread near Topaz Lake (located adjacent to the Holbrook Junction).
While Haman's claim was certainly not the most outrageous water scheme to come down the pipe, the action did show the lengths to which desert dwellers will go to find water.
In their application with the state water engineer, the two claimants revealed their plan: "We intend to shoot the clouds by the latest methods known in starting rainfalls and snowstorms. Coaxing clouds to rain has recently been developed, after 300 years of known experiments by individuals, states and countries."
While Haman and Fairfield's proposal sounds a bit Quixotic today, consider that in 1947 the idea that clouds were some kind of celestial cows waiting to be milked seemed quite reasonable. Also, 1947 was a very dry year.
At the time, the 35-year-old Haman was manager of Fairfield's Rocking F Ranch. A former University of Nevada football star, Haman had worked as a Hollywood studio artist and a professional boxer before returning to Nevada.
Haman helped Fairfield purchase the Rocking F Ranch in 1946 and agreed to manage the property. Immediately, he was confronted with the fact that the property had no water.
But Haman wasn't easily discouraged. In the claim, Haman explained that scientists had been successful in making rain by dropping dry ice pellets into clouds.
As he told a Reno Evening Gazette reporter at the time: "We plan to make rain with dry ice over the ranch next spring and we want to make sure we have full legal rights to the water we produce. If the cloud is over our ranch and we drop the dry ice through it to make rain we're certainly entitled to the water."
Haman admitted he wasn't sure what to do about rain that might drop on a neighbor's land. "It would still be our water," he said. "But we don't know yet how we could get it back."
At the time, the 35-year-old Haman was manager of Fairfield's Rocking F Ranch. A former University of Nevada football star, Haman had worked as a Hollywood studio artist and a professional boxer before returning to Nevada.
Haman helped Fairfield purchase the Rocking F Ranch in 1946 and agreed to manage the property. Immediately, he was confronted with the fact that the property had no water.
But Haman wasn't easily discouraged. In the claim, Haman explained that scientists had been successful in making rain by dropping dry ice pellets into clouds.
As he told a Reno Evening Gazette reporter at the time: "We plan to make rain with dry ice over the ranch next spring and we want to make sure we have full legal rights to the water we produce. If the cloud is over our ranch and we drop the dry ice through it to make rain we're certainly entitled to the water."
Haman admitted he wasn't sure what to do about rain that might drop on a neighbor's land. "It would still be our water," he said. "But we don't know yet how we could get it back."
Two weeks after Haman's claim was filed, the United Press filed a tongue-in-cheek report about an indignant group called the Arizona Cloud Ropers, Inc.
"That hombre makes me sore," said Nick Gregovich, president of the Ropers. "We're goin' right ahead with our plans to fly over to Nevada and California, drops loops over clouds, wrangle them to Arizona and make them give down."
It wasn't long before other folks began to see the comic possibilities in the budding cloud-seeding conflict. The Reno Chamber of Commerce jumped into the fray by sponsoring a series of highly publicized cloud-seeding expeditions over Mount Rose. The chamber hired a plane and sprayed dry ice in the clouds in the hope of creating some snow to attract skiers and tourists.
Immediately after the cloud-seeding - which had no apparent affect - the Salt Lake City Chamber of Commerce fired off a telegram threatening to file a lawsuit in federal court to stop Reno from "milking" clouds before they reached Utah.
The Reno chamber responded with a call for a new tax to be levied on clouds passing over Nevada on their way to Utah.
The prestigious London Times editorialized that the United State should nationalize moisture-bearing clouds and vest control over them with a "board of nebulous planners."
"That hombre makes me sore," said Nick Gregovich, president of the Ropers. "We're goin' right ahead with our plans to fly over to Nevada and California, drops loops over clouds, wrangle them to Arizona and make them give down."
It wasn't long before other folks began to see the comic possibilities in the budding cloud-seeding conflict. The Reno Chamber of Commerce jumped into the fray by sponsoring a series of highly publicized cloud-seeding expeditions over Mount Rose. The chamber hired a plane and sprayed dry ice in the clouds in the hope of creating some snow to attract skiers and tourists.
Immediately after the cloud-seeding - which had no apparent affect - the Salt Lake City Chamber of Commerce fired off a telegram threatening to file a lawsuit in federal court to stop Reno from "milking" clouds before they reached Utah.
The Reno chamber responded with a call for a new tax to be levied on clouds passing over Nevada on their way to Utah.
The prestigious London Times editorialized that the United State should nationalize moisture-bearing clouds and vest control over them with a "board of nebulous planners."
The dry ice dispute began to wane after a few months. State Engineer Alfred Merritt Smith wrote in a February 1948 letter to the science editor of the Associated Press that "we have not as yet taken any action and it is quite likely that our attitude will be that this office has no jurisdiction in this matter ... It would seem that the clouds, being interstate in character, would come under the jurisdiction of the (federal) government."
While Haman relished the attention, Fairfield grew tired of the publicity and harassing telephone calls. By 1949, he lost interest in both Haman and the cloud seeding idea, and fired his ranch manager.
Ironically, it was another of Haman's wild schemes that resulted in finding water for the property, although it came too late for him to benefit from it. Haman hit upon the idea of using oil-drilling equipment to find water on the land.
After Fairfield severed his relationship with Haman, he decided to try the drilling plan. It worked and Fairfield began pumping water from the ground, transforming the previously worthless property into valuable farmland.
As with many things legal, Haman's cloud claim eventually ended not with a thunderclap but with a whisper. In April 1953, state engineer Hugh Shamberger cancelled the application, saying Haman had failed to show the point where he intended to divert the water, as required by state law.
While Haman relished the attention, Fairfield grew tired of the publicity and harassing telephone calls. By 1949, he lost interest in both Haman and the cloud seeding idea, and fired his ranch manager.
Ironically, it was another of Haman's wild schemes that resulted in finding water for the property, although it came too late for him to benefit from it. Haman hit upon the idea of using oil-drilling equipment to find water on the land.
After Fairfield severed his relationship with Haman, he decided to try the drilling plan. It worked and Fairfield began pumping water from the ground, transforming the previously worthless property into valuable farmland.
As with many things legal, Haman's cloud claim eventually ended not with a thunderclap but with a whisper. In April 1953, state engineer Hugh Shamberger cancelled the application, saying Haman had failed to show the point where he intended to divert the water, as required by state law.
