A Visit to Lake Shore House

Ahh, Glenbrook.  Capt. Augustus W. Pray arrived here in the spring of 1860 with N.E. Murdock, G.W. Warren, and Rufus Walton, when no tourists had yet discovered its pristine beauty.

Settling in the lush grasslands beside the lake, Pray and his companions built a log cabin, dubbing the site Glenbrook in a nod to the small stream running through their meadow.


Early view of the Glenbrook Bay.

Impressed by the profusion of wild grasses, the settlers hauled a horse-drawn reaper over the mountain from San Francisco to cut the hay and began planting a garden, including wheat and oats. Their first crop produced some 80 bushels of wheat and four tons of hay, with oat stalks standing an impressive 7 feet tall.

The group’s waterfront settlement soon became known as Walton’s Landing. Here, Georgetown pack train travelers would disembark after crossing the lake by boat from McKinney’s, before continuing their journey east.

The following summer (1861) Pray erected a sawmill, known (of course) as Pray’s Mill. Seeing potential in the nearby timber, Pray bought out his partners in 1862 and began buying up timber land to supply his mill, quickly assembling holdings of 700 acres around Glenbrook.

In 1863, Pray sold five acres to entrepreneurs interested in building a hotel. The upscale Glenbrook House (the first commercial hotel in the vicinity) was soon erected a short half-mile away from the shore by G.Goff and George Morrill. This new hotel served well-heeled travelers along the Lake Bigler Toll Road through Kings Canyon willing to shell out $21 a week for food and lodging — an impressive sum, in the days when miners’ wages were $4 a day.

Although some accounts have said Pray built his own Lake Shore House hotel at the foot of the meadow in the fall of 1863, contemporary newspaper accounts confirm it actually was built by W.A. Hawthorne, and construction began in May, 1875.* It thus became the second hotel operating at Glenbrook. A glowing newspaper column the following year dubbed Lake Shore House “one of the neatest and sweetest and pleasantest and cheapest places of resort on the shores of Lake Bigler.” A large sign over the door about this time announced the hotel’s name to visitors in bold, rolling letters.


Lake Shore House circa 1870s, with its distinctive wavy-lettered sign.


More happy tourists at Lake Shore House, probably mid-1870s.

Thanks to the expansion of Comstock mining, lumber became increasingly necessary — and valuable. In 1873, Pray sold his mill and the land that it stood on to entrepreneur D.L. Bliss. Bliss launched a massive lumbering operation throughout Tahoe Basin, assembling mills, railroads, and flumes into a complex network carrying timber over Spooner Summit to serve the mines. By the end of the 1890s some 750 million board-feet of Tahoe Basin lumber had been spirited eastward to support mining operations on the Comstock — leaving 47,000 acres denuded of their timber.

Mining on the Comstock eventually waned — and with it, lumbering, too. And in their wake, recreational activities at Glenbrook blossomed. Even the Bliss family followed suit, ordering the building of a 169-foot steamer in 1896, known as the Queen of the Lake.

Pray’s early Lake Shore House hotel was moved down closer to the Lake in 1906, and tweaked to form the south wing of the new Glenbrook Inn. Another old hotel known as the Jellerson formed a north wing, and an old store was pressed into service as the center portion of the new complex. The early 17-foot painted sign that once welcomed visitors to Lake Shore House was taken down during this 1906 renovation.

As the years rolled by, the hotel’s history continued to capture people’s imagination, and in the 1970s, the hotel was largely restored to its original late-19th century appearance. In 1979, Lake Shore House’s significance was recognized through its listing on the National Register of Historic Places.

Benton’s Stage Line ferried tourists to the Lake (with stage driver Hank Monk) in time to connect with the Steamer ‘Niagara.” “Ample time will be allowed Passengers coming from Tahoe City to take luncheon at the Lake Shore House.”  This excursion was evidently very popular; stage trips were made every day during the tourist season, Sundays included.

Today Lake Shore House is a private residence. Over the past year, a loving renovation has preserved the building’s structural stability and historic charm. A 17-foot sign closely resembling the original discovered during the renovation is now proudly on display again, tucked under an eave for protection from the elements.


Lake Shore House today, following meticulous renovation.

Inside, the home keeps its historic charm. It’s unclear whether the sign discovered during remodeling is the same as the original that hung over the entrance, but it follows the same lettering

Not far away lies Capt. Augustus W. Pray himself, sleeping an eternal sleep in the historic Glenbrook cemetery. If only he could see his beautiful Lake Shore House today.


The grave of Capt. Augustus W. Pray at Glenbrook Cemetery. Born in 1820, Pray died in 1892.

*Special thanks to historian Michael Fisher for researching the date of Lake Shore House’s construction and providing great references to its initial construction and various management changes through the years, including: Carson Daily Appeal of March 5, 1874; May 25, 1875; August 16, 1876; and May 8, 1897; Nevada State Journal, April 20, 1877; and Reno Evening Gazette, May 12, 1884. 

Lost in World War I

It was going to be the “War to End All Wars.” But when America entered the dreaded conflict overseas in 1917, local draft boards all across the nation were forced to make awful decisions: choosing which of their community’s young men should be sent off to fight.

Here in Douglas County, Nevada, local County Clerk Hans C. Jepsen became one of the men tasked with service on the Draft Board. They did it the fairest way possible: a lottery was organized, so the men to be drafted would be chosen at random.

Hans C. Jepsen, Douglas County Clerk

Imagine Jepsen’s horror when the name that he picked was that of his own son, Earl.

Two other men were in the room when Earl’s name was drawn. According to family lore, they both urged Hans to simply put his son’s name back and draw again. Perhaps they knew that Earl wasn’t a likely candidate for the military because his eyesight wasn’t good. Or perhaps they sympathized with a father’s guilt in sending his own son off to war.

Whatever their reasoning, the honorable Hans C. Jepsen refused. His son Earl’s name had been chosen, and that was that.

The Army, however, wasn’t so sure. Earl’s poor eyesight was indeed a stumbling block, and they repeatedly refused to induct him. But Earl kept presenting himself. He wanted to serve his country, he said. And eventually, the Army relented.

Earl F. Jepsen in his military uniform, 1918.

Earl enlisted on June 26, 1918 and was assigned to the Infantry, and by August had been sent overseas to the war zone in France. In late September, he was assigned to Company B of the 308th Infantry (part of the 77th Division), just in time to march with them into the Battle of the Argonne Forest. During this lengthy battle, Earl’s company became separated from the rest of the Allied forces and was surrounded by German forces. (The 554 men in these units would later become known as the “Lost Battalion.”)

Earl F. Jepsen’s headstone in San Francisco. (There’s a bit of conflict on his date of death; other sources say he was killed October 5, 1918.)

Earl was assigned as a runner to the battalion’s field headquarters, a job so dangerous it was considered a suicide mission. Earl was killed by sniper fire October 5, 1918, while on patrol. Just five weeks later, on November 11, the Armistice was signed, ending the war.

Earl was 26 years old when he fell on the battlefield. His body was buried initially in France, along with other American casualties. Some three years later, thanks to funds raised here at home, his remains were brought home again to the States. He now rests at the Presidio in San Francisco.

Plaque honoring WWI Veterans at the old Courthouse in Minden, Nevada. The star by Earl F. Jepsen’s name signifies that he died during the war. (Photo courtesy of Harold Jepsen)

At the old Courthouse in Minden is a brass plaque, honoring those from Douglas County who served during World War I. And as you will see if you visit, Earl isn’t the only Jepsen to have served during this “War to End All Wars”: his brother, Hans R., and cousin, Hans  J., also are honored on the plaque. A simple bronze star beside Earl’s name signifies that he gave his life for duty.

This Veteran’s Day, we hope you will remember him — a local boy who did what he felt he must to serve his country.