The Old Blog in the Desert

Three years and five trials after the gruesome discovery of I.N. Sharp’s dismembered body near the Rabbithole Sulphur mines, J.W. Rover was ceremoniously hanged in the Washoe County Courthouse yard on the chilly afternoon of February 19, 1878. It would become Reno’s first—and only—public execution that garnered no small amount of attention in the growing town.

Reno was still in its infancy at the time, not yet a decade old, but it managed to carry out the deed with surprising authority. Citizens took some pride in the fact that it was Washoe County’s first execution, though they seemed to agree, with a touch of complacency, that the whole affair was as creditable as it was regrettable.

The tragic tale began in the spring of 1875 when Rover and J.J. McWorthy discovered a Sulphur mine near Rabbithole Springs. The pair staked the claim, but McWorthy only took it out in his name, which upset Rover. Rankled, Rover agreed to stay on and was soon joined by Sharp.

When McWorthy briefly left the mine to buy supplies in Mill City, he returned to find Sharp missing, with Rover offering the rather unconvincing explanation that Sharp had gone off hunting for the outfit’s pack horse. Not satisfied, and after days of searching, McWorth learned from Mrs. Osborn, wife of a friend, that she had overheard Rover threatening Sharp’s life. A telegram from Mill City revealed Sharp hadn’t returned home to California, and McWorthy, suspicious and concerned, had Rover arrested.

Upon returning with Sheriff Nash, McWorthy and the sheriff discovered Sharp’s body, dismembered and buried in several different spots, each burial marked with the distinctive tracks of Rover’s new boots. Rover, of course, accused McWorthy of the murder, claiming he had witnessed the deed, but this didn’t convince the jury, which found him guilty. However, the Nevada Supreme Court, ever the stickler for process, granted a new trial.

The case dragged on, with a second trial yielding a guilty verdict in June 1877, though Rover seemed disturbingly unconcerned. He even managed a hearty breakfast before his second sentencing. For a moment, it seemed as though the case might drag on indefinitely—until the court finally decided, and on February 19, 1878, ordered Sheriff A.K. Lamb to carry out the execution.

Leading up to the hanging, Rover, once a brash figure, became eerily quiet. He had several visitors during his last days—curiosity seekers, well-wishers, and those eager to offer him salvation. One lady even asked if he had made peace with the Lord, to which Rover tersely replied that he had done so “many years ago.” Meanwhile, his defense attorneys tried in vain to save him, suggesting a “sheriff’s jury” be called to determine his sanity. This proposed jury, a curious and largely unheard-of procedure, could not reach a decision, and the hanging was to happen without further delay.

At the gallows, 200 hand-picked witnesses filled the courtyard, their heads craning for a glimpse of the condemned man, while the rest of Reno gathered outside the fence to peer through cracks. As the moment drew near, Rover addressed the crowd, speaking for fifty-two minutes, defending his innocence, accusing McWorthy of other murders, and making the customary confessions of faith expected from a condemned man. Finally, the trap was sprung, and Rover’s life ended.

Reno’s first public execution was over. The body was buried quietly in the Catholic cemetery, and the event seemed to pass into history as a grim footnote.

However, the story didn’t end there. In years to come, rumors swirled that Rover had been innocent. Some claimed McWorthy confessed to the crime on his deathbed in Arizona. An investigation revealed that McWorthy had lived out his days in California, and the so-called confession was likely a fanciful tale born of doubt and sympathy.

The case lingered in the public consciousness, fueling séances, ghost stories, and questions about Rover’s guilt. Miners near Rabbithole Springs even reported seeing his ghost working on the claim.

Despite the multiple trials, guilty verdicts, and official findings, the mystery of J.W. Rover’s fate continued to haunt both the town of Reno and the minds of those who dared to doubt the justice served.