Mystery of recorder’s office ghost is finally put to rest
Wednesday, Nov. 28, 2001 | 8:22 a.m.
Clark County history had failed to record the name of the man who recorded the first of nearly 10 million official documents during the county's 92 years.
That was remedied Tuesday, when a headstone was placed at Woodlawn Cemetery on the previously unmarked grave of Frank Clayton, who now is officially recognized as the first Clark County recorder.
Perhaps with that recognition, a restless ghost will cease to haunt the county recorder's archives, one official said.
It had long been thought that Frank A. Dougherty was the first county recorder. He now is regarded as the first elected recorder, serving 1910-14.
Clayton served for about a year, from his appointment on July 3, 1909, until his resignation for unknown reasons before the 1910 elections.
"Actually, we were researching background information about Frank Dougherty when we came across an old newspaper clipping that said Dougherty was coming up from Searchlight to assist Clark County Recorder Frank Clayton -- and we said whoa!" said James Edwards, public information officer for the recorder's office. "We knew we had discovered something that needed to be researched further."
Edwards, working with Nevada historian Frank Wright, confirmed Clayton's status with a July 10, 1909, issue of the Las Vegas Age newspaper. An article reported Clayton had been appointed "recorder and ex-officio auditor" of the then-new Clark County.
That discovery has given local officials a name to go with a ghost who, according to legend, has long haunted the county recorder's archives.
Over the years a number of employees had reported seeing an eerie image of a man in a black suit and a white shirt in the old recorder's office on Third Street and in the new offices at the County Government Center, Edwards said.
Born March 18, 1874, in Minersville, Utah, Clayton moved to Searchlight -- then Southern Nevada's largest city -- and became a prosperous miner and carpenter. He moved to Las Vegas, then-dusty a desert railroad stop, to take the recorder's job.
After resigning from the recorder's post, Clayton remained in Las Vegas, but little is known of what he did or whether he married and had children. No descendants were at Tuesday's ceremony. Clayton died in September 1939 at age 65, after being hit by a train while crossing tracks where the Bonanza Road railroad underpass is now.
Although little more is known about Clayton, he had a reputation for taking on his superiors when he felt they were wrong. In a July 24, 1909, issue of the Age, Clayton displayed the bravado that is believed to have caused him to fall out of favor with the County Commission. He complained that he was not being given the tools necessary to do his job properly, the newspaper reported.
"Owing to the lack of books and some other requisites of business, I am unable to promptly complete the records of documents filed with me," Clayton told the newspaper. "This difficulty will be remedied by the first of next week and, with the necessary supplies, I will soon have my records up to date."
Judith Vandever, the current Clark County recorder, mused before Tuesday's grave-marking ceremony that in some ways little has changed.
"Being understaffed by 40 percent and having to go to the commissioners seeking supplies, I can understand what Mr. Clayton went through," Vandever said. "I have a kinship with him there."
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