Bishop - Owens Valley loses a treasure

Ernest Kinney, seated next to his late son, Ernest Spray Kinney, waves to the crowd as the 2002 Mule Days Parade Grand Marshal – an honor he accepted more on behalf of his pioneering family than he did for his years of contributions to the world-famous event. File photo

With the passing of Ernest Kinney this past Friday at the age of 90, the Owens Valley lost not only a native son, but also a tremendous talent, one of its most passionate historians, master raconteur and above all, a true friend.
Kinney is perhaps best known as the artist behind the world-famous Mule Days Celebration. His iconic Western images have adorned the event’s posters, programs, T-shirts and countless other souvenirs for decades.
But Kinney’s influence on the community and the Eastern Sierra extends far beyond the priceless works of art he churned out with an unparalleled passion and easygoing humor.
A staunch supporter of community and often the go-to source for spirit and inspiration, Kinney could always be counted on to lend labor, enthusiasm and wisdom to just about any volunteer effort in the name of his hometown or preservation of the traditions he held so dearly to his heart.
As one of the Eastern Sierra’s proudest self-proclaimed Old-Timers, Kinney was known as a vertible treasure trove of information on the bygone eras he witnessed in his life or the historical record that was passed down through the generations in his own family.
He was also extremely generous. With his time, his resources, his knowledge and his friendship.

“We’ve been friends for many years … fished together, worked together and had a hell of a lot of fun together,” said Ray Milovich, who has known Kinney since 1936. “There was only one of them, and that was Ernie Kinney. Anywhere Ernie was there was always some laughing going on. He was fun to be with and fun to be around.”
Milovich and several of Kinney’s friends regaled The Inyo Register with stories of Kinney’s generosity, or dedication to his family, his famous storytelling, or even incidents of mischief and prankish behavior (“He loved practical jokes,” said Milovich).
And they all spoke of a renaissance man, hard to pin down for one passion, or accomplishment or contribution to this side of the world.
More than anything, they spoke of a true gentleman who embraced life for its moments of love and laughter, a man who never forgot his roots.
Those roots for Kinney were well established when he came into the world in 1918.
The Summers family, on Kinney’s paternal grandmother’s side, are said to have driven the first head of cattle through the Owens Valley, ahead of Sam Bishop, the city’s namesake.
The Summers clan settled in Bridgeport in 1850, and, heavily into cattle, established the first three markets in Bodie.
Their house, known now as the Jess N. Summers House, was made a historic monument several years ago.
Eventually, the Kinneys became just as influential in the establishment of today’s settlements.
Kinney’s father and grandfather ran the Kinney Ranch in Round Valley, assisted with the Summers and Butler Cattle Company, had the only logging contract with Mono Mills and also operated a wood camp in the Mammoth area.
In the summertime, Kinney’s family kept its cattle in Mono County, and later drove them all the way to Coso, where Kinney spent the first five years of his life.
As he grew, Kinney spent much of his time in various cattle and livestock team camps. In the summers he stayed with his grandmother in Bishop, in the same house Kinney and his wife, Yan, spent the last several decades.
Kinney often told of having to ride a one-eyed mule from Mammoth to Bishop to catch a movie now and then.
It was also a source of pride for Kinney, how, as a young lad, he learned to drive burro teams, from single teams to six-animal hitches.
Although not as heavily involved in ranching, packing and livestock in his later years, he still drove teams up until he was about 40 years old.
It was during his time at the cow camps that Kinney’s love of the West and the industry blossomed. He worked under the tutelage of not only his dad and grandfather, but a variety of old- timers, veteran cowboys and various ranch hands.
“I was privileged to grow up with these people,” Kinney said back in 2002, the year he was named the Mule Days Parade Grand Marshal. “The atmosphere now cannot match.”
Jackie Culver Cheeseman, born the same year as Kinney, remembers all too well what the atmosphere was like growing up in Bishop during the 1920s and ’30s.
Cheeseman considers Kinney a lifelong friend and recalls even now his dedication to the family business and the Western way of life.
“One time he told me he wished he’d been born 10 years earlier so he could have worked with his dad 10 more years,” Cheeseman said. “He started working with his dad when he was old enough to sit in the wagon. He respected his dad very much. And his mother was such a lady. Everyone knew you didn’t say a curse word around her, because she was a lady.
“Ernie was one of my dearest friends,” Cheeseman continued. “Several years ago Ernie called and we talked for hours. And we found we had so many shared memories. It was so comforting.”
Kinney often shared how his family was “pert near” – a phrase that peppered many of his stories – involved in every aspect of the valley and area’s early history.
He was particularly keen on the mule’s involvement in establishing this part of the country as well.
“Mules are what opened up this country,” he said, explaining that when mining was big, mules were prospectors’ only means of hauling their ore to and fro. They, and the men who rode them, were the true trailblazers of the Eastern Sierra.
Kinney often spoke of these topics to any who would listen. He was known as a master story-teller who could keep a listener entertained for hours.
“I used to go over to his house and listen to his stories of Bishop in the early days, and he knew more about the history of Bishop than anyone I’ve ever talked to around here,” said Martin “Smiley” Connolly, who’s known Kinney for 35-40 years, after first meeting him at Gold Beach, Ore. while salmon fishing. “The main thing I liked is that each story led to another and I just enjoyed listening to his fascinating stories.”
Cheeseman recalled the Kinney house being a favored spot for socializing through the years.
“I never, ever heard an unkind word about Ernie. He had friends and he made friends. Their house was like a depot, lots of people coming and going, everybody loved being there.”
When not on the range or toiling at team camps, Kinney attended grammar school in Bishop and later on Bishop Union High School, from which he graduated in 1936 – two years before the woman who would became his wife.
And all this time, Kinney’s artistic talent continued to flourish.
After high school, Kinney was drawn to study at the Fay Studio in Los Angeles, encouraged by one of his high school professors who taught a class in what was known as show card writing.
After only two days at the studio, where Kinney was taught to paint words quickly, evenly and in straight lines with overall quality, he was put to work writing slogans and company names on windows and signs of drive-ins and mini-marts.
He was often offered permanent employment, to which he would respond, “Hell no, I’ve gotta go back to my burros.”
One of those job offers came from Disney studios, where Kinney reluctantly applied (after being driven there by an aquaintance as a surprise) for a job. He was given 10 drawing tests, only two of which, a fat man climbing a ladder on a hot day and the other a pool of water, that he remembered later in life.
Needless to say, Kinney didn’t take the job offered him to work in an assembly-line type setting. He explained he was “too smart” to take such employment.
Instead, he returned to Bishop, where he met back up with the only woman he ever dated in his life.
Virginia Anne Lenhart, of a family with roots in Kentucky and its horse racing, was herself a veteran of the local backcountry and its mines, thanks to her father’s work in the area.
The story of Kinney’s marriage to her is one he enjoyed telling.
After Virginia Anne, shortened to “Yan” when she was young, graduated in 1938, Kinney and a friend went to pick her up in Reno, where she was returning from Idaho after caring for her ill mother. Arriving at around 2 a.m. to discover Yan was sleeping at her hotel, Kinney and his friend, Jack Alexander, gambled the few dollars they had brought with them (it was 1938, afterall) until Yan awoke later that morning.
Jack disappeared for awhile, and it was not until later that Kinney discovered he had been to Yan’s room, asking her if she was ready to get married to the man downstairs. Her response was no, but Jack nonetheless came back downstairs to tell a much surprised Kinney that Yan had said they were getting married.
Jack’s ploy, for whatever reason, worked, and Kinney and Yan were married later that day at the Justice of the Peace – his services paid for with $2 in nickels.
When Kinney spoke of his sudden marriage, and Yan, his eyes twinkled just like they did when he recalled the early packing and frontier days.
His pride in her was just as deep. Kinney was always the first to tell you of her many attributes, among them her intelligence.
“She’s been a great woman all her life,” he said.
Ernie and Yan celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary this past Dec. 18.
After their marriage, Kinney helped out at Jeffrey Ranch installing pipeline for a powerhouse, and was offered the opportunity to take over the packing portion of Spark Plug Mine. During this time, Kinney packed year-round, his mules the only means of transporting the ore up and down the mountain. His pack teams even carried giant logs, scenes of which are illustrated in several of Kinney’s pieces.
Kinney entered the Navy in the early 1940s, and left the packing to his father, George Spray Kinney.
It was during his time in the military that his love of drawing was really allowed to blossom. Kinney, while stationed at Guam for two years, quickly became known for his skill, and was frequently commissioned to paint messages and pictures on coconuts and cigar boxes for servicemen’s wives back in the States.
“The painting just literally followed me every place I’ve been,” he said. “It’s really a peculiar deal, it really is.”
When released from the service Kinney returned to Yan and their two children, Georgia Ann and Ernest Spray Kinney. (The couple eventually had four more children: Michael Scott; Ann Elizabeth; Mary Suzanne; and Richard James.)
“The kids were raised with such love,” Cheeseman said. “A very devoted family.”
Kinney purchased Pine Creek Pack Station, which had been closed during the war, and worked at its restoration to a fully-operational state. But, with six children, he had to leave the seasonal tourist packing industry for a job with the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power.
While working on the Owens Gorge project, Kinney quickly moved up the ranks. While his true love lay in packing and ranching, Kinney could hardly walk away from the money the city was paying him. He stayed with LADWP for 13 years, and then moved onto Turner Gas Company for another 16.
Through all of his careers, Kinney never fully strayed from his art or his love of the Old West.

Ernie Kinney in one of his favorite places, his backyard “studio” – a wooden shack given to him by close friend Ray Milovich. While his health still allowed, Kinney would make his way there early every morning to sketch or paint. Photo by Darcy Ellis

“When he worked for Turner Gas, while he was waiting for the gas to fill he would draw his customers a picture,” Milovich said.
Over the years, Kinney completed what are truly countless pieces; hundreds have been donated to worthy causes and given as gifts.
His involvement with Mule Days is a prime example of his generosity and commitment to his art.
“Over the years I worked with Mr. Kinney on many projects for Mule Days: the Souvenir Program, belt buckles and souvenir art,” said Julie Bigham, former executive director of Mule Days. “He had always been an enthusiastic and generous collaborator. He had loaned art, created new designs, given me feedback on designs and been an all -around wonderful individual.
“On one particular occasion he corrected a tack error on souvenir artwork that I didn’t recognize. In 2002 he was chosen as the Grand Marshal of the Mule Days Parade and in 2006 he was elected to the Mule Days Hall of Fame. To me he was far more than a talented artist, he was a friend. I hardly ever visited without staying for hours and I am grateful for the history that he told me, the family photos and artwork that he shared which documented the way that mules were used in this area. The caricatures of the mules and his depictions of the Owens Valley are a testament to the artist that not only lived in those times but had first-hand knowledge of his subject.
“He always made me smile.”
Bob Tanner, one of the founders of Mule Days, credits Kinney with helping to establish the event in the mainstream.
“His background as a packer gave him the ability to convert what he saw into some of the most humourous and interesting pictures of mules,” said Tanner, who had known Kinney since the late 1950s. “He had a sense of what was humorous and how humorous life really is.”
Kinney created the covers for the Mule Days Souvenir Program many times, most notably drawing the cover for the first actual program in 1974.
Kinney was named by the Mule Days Committee as Best Friend of Mule Days in 1986.
“His drawings and artistry have influenced the acceptance of Mule Days over the years,” Tanner said. “His work really represented the attitude of Mule Days and became kind a trademark for the event.
“He was a wonderful man, very generous,” Tanner concluded.
Hundreds of Kinney’s pieces were known to line the walls and be stacked along the baseboards of his home.
Guests frequently stopped by to peruse his impressive collection, and he was often commissioned for special projects.
One of his paintings was the model for the Bishop Mural Society’s sprawling mural on the city’s Union Bank branch. Kinney is most proud of that piece, even though he could not paint it himself due to hip surgery, perhaps because it shows for the world his family’s heritage.
Kinney’s legacy certainly does not stop there. Those lucky enough to receive a letter from Kinney would receive along with his greetings a cartoon, featuring his nationally famous mule caricatures.
Rick Pucci, Bishop city administrator, had the honor of knowing Kinney for 29 years, since Pucci first arrived in Bishop. He was well aware of both Kinney’s talents – those widely known and those “hidden” – as well as his contributions to the community at-large.
“He was one of the finest people and finest artists I’ve ever been aware of, and a real gentleman,” Pucci said. “He had the opportunity to go national with his work and probably make a significant amount of money, but he decided to stay where he was comfortable.
“Another hidden talent, he was also a very serious artist, he painted what I would consider very in-depth and serious art,” Pucci continued. “He and Yan were a couple who spent their lives helping the community.
“It was my honor and privilege to know him, to know both of them.”
Milovich shared much the same sentiments.
“He had great kids and Yan is quite a woman,” he said. “The town has lost a good one. His artwork he learned on his own, and he could only do so much serious stuff before he got a funny one in there.
“Ernie never refused to help anyone. If I had a project he was my man.”
While Kinney’s passing leaves a significant void not only in the community but in the hearts and lives of his friends and loved ones, some are taking solace in the legacy he is leaving behind.
“Ernie was a great guy. I loved the guy and most anybody who knew him loved him,” Connolly said. “He was quite a gentleman.”
They’re also taking comfort in the notion that they’ll meet up with Kinney again some day, to laugh about the sorry state of sports, reminisce about the old days, talk about family.
“I hope when I go,” Milovich said, “he’s there when I get there.”