A Piece of the Rock - the Last Carver of Mount Rushmore
A PIECE OF THE ROCK
by Thomas D Griffith
Deadwood’s 1899 Inn is home to myriad historical artifacts, ranging from the first law library in the Black Hills and World War II military equipment to the signatures of five U.S. presidents and even a slice of granite from the iconic Shrine of Democracy known as Mount Rushmore National Memorial.
The latter, a honey-combed piece from one of the four faces of freedom on the mountain memorial, has become a treasured relic at the 1899 Inn, shared with many guests who often pose with it for photographs during the Inn’s scrumptious breakfasts each morning.
The heavy piece of Black Hills granite, speckled with shiny hints of mica, was gifted to 1899 Inn owner Tom Griffith by “the last man standing,” the final man alive of 400 who helped carve Mount Rushmore between 1927 and 1941. Nick Clifford and Tom became fast friends in the mid-1980s as Tom was interviewing the surviving workers who helped create the colossal carving with sculptor Gutzon Borglum and his son, Lincoln. At the time, only 36 were left alive, all in the twilight of their lives.
A piece of the faces on Mount Rushmore gifted to Tom Griffith by carver Nick Clifford.
Nick, at 17, became the youngest of any man hired at Mount Rushmore when the Borglums recruited him in 1938. And, he didn’t know diddly-squat about carving a mountain or wielding a drill. Nick was hired because he was an outstanding baseball pitcher and right-fielder and the Borglums had decided they wanted to field a baseball team that year.
Nick Clifford at 17 in his Mount Rushmore baseball team uniform
As the youngest worker, Nick told Tom he was surrounded every day by big, burly ex-miners, some of whom had worked at the legendary Homestake Gold Mine in Lead. By 1938, most of the workers would gather on the hoist-house platform near the Sculptor’s Studio each morning, waiting to ride a cable car to the top of Theodore Roosevelt’s head. Originally built to haul steel bits from the pneumatic drills used in the carving to the blacksmith’s shop for sharpening each day, the cable car became the preferred method of workers to get to the top of the mountain, primarily because it saved them a 700-step climb to the summit, where they would punch in and start their day.
On Nick’s third day on the job, a half-dozen of his workmates grabbed him and held him in place while another nailed his boots to the wooden platform on which they had assembled. Then those compatriots jumped on the cable car and rode away, slinging insults at the “pup” they had left behind. Nick was still trying to determine how to extricate himself from his perch when sculptor Borglum drove up in his car at the studio directly below him.
“Even on my third day, I knew Borglum would fire guys simply for looking at him wrong, so I did the only thing I could think of and put my elbow in my hand and rubbed my face with the other hand and contemplated this colossal carving we were creating on the mountain,” Nick recalled. It worked. Borglum walked right past Nick, mouthing “Mr. Clifford,” to which Nick responded, “Mr. Borglum.”
But, Nick knew if he didn’t do something about getting nailed to the platform, his co-workers would “pimp” him like that every day he was on the job. So, he developed a plan. Nick knew that all the carvers and powdermen on the mountain broke for lunch at noon each day, getting off the face of the carving so the powdermen could detonate the dynamite charges set that morning. With the final whistle at 4 p.m., all of the workers again left the mountain so the last detonation could occur.
Those same workers would grab the cable car for the base of the mountain, retrieve their lunch boxes which hoist-house operator Ed Hayes would line up on the platform, then literally run to their cars and race down the hill to Keystone, attempting to be the first one in the bar with a beer in front of them. “At 4 o’clock, that two miles between Rushmore and Keystone was like the Daytona Speedway, such was their thirst,” Nick said.
Knowing that, Nick snuck down to the hoist house before the 4 o’clock whistle and nailed every one of those lunch boxes to the same wooden platform his co-workers had nailed him to early that morning. Then, he hid in the nearby rocks to see what would happen.
“Those guys jumped off the cable car, grabbed those lunch pails and pulled the handles off every one of them,” Nick laughed. “And, they never pimped me again.”
Tom and Nick shared many stories and many laughs over the years, the last in 2011, when Tom visited Nick and wife, Carolyn, at their home in Rapid City as Nick celebrated his 90th birthday. In an article for the Rapid City Journal, Tom recounted Nick’s amazing life and the fact that he was, indeed, the last man standing of those drill-dusty miners who helped create one of the truly iconic American landmarks.
While visiting, Nick brought out a felt bag, which contained that treasured piece of granite from Mount Rushmore. He told Tom, “Twenty-two years ago when we met, you said you’d like to get your hands on a piece of the rock, some granite from one of the faces on the mountain memorial. Well, here it is from my private collection, and I want you to have it.”
Sadly, Nick conquered his confirmed habit of living in 2019, at age 98. But every time Tom hands that treasured piece of rock to a guest at the 1899 Inn, while telling them what to expect when they visit Mount Rushmore later that morning, it brings back memories of a longtime friendship with a humble and kind man who helped create one of the most famous landmarks in the world.
Carver Nick Clifford stands at Mount Rushmore