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Karl Breckenridge. That’s possibly the most under-written sentence I’ve ever crafted. I’ll flesh it in: A friend I’ve known for seven decades so far — our fathers were best of friends even longer back to the late 1920s, a friend known by many at the University of Nevada for 50 years and a man who most Basques in Nevada know well — wrote a book.

Better. Let’s keep trying: “…wrote a book.” Actually, he’s written a dozen books. And a virtually uncountable number of scholarly papers and reports for the University. And was inducted into the Nevada Writers’ Hall of Fame. And as a firm believer in the all-work-and-no-play doctrine, wrote a book about fly-fishing, with a black noddy tern sitting atop the crest of his hat on its cover.

My friend’s name is Bill Douglass, also known on the Hill as Dr. William A. Douglass, two esses if you please. But this morning we’ll just call him Bill. Bill graduated from Bishop Manogue in 1957 and the University of Nevada, pre-UNR, in 1961, with emphasis on Spanish language. On then he went, to UC Berkeley and the U of Chicago, accomplishing his doctoral dissertation following two years in the Basque country.)

Returning to Reno, he was invited by the Desert Research Institute to establish a Basque studies program at what was by then known as UNR. And he succeeded at that task beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, with the appellation "William A. Douglass Center for Basque Studies" now affixed to the center’s hall in the University’s learning center. The program flourished, and in this columnist’s mind forms one of the proudest jewels in the University’s tiara. Few in Reno, Northern Nevada and the Basque homeland in Spain are not familiar with Bill and the program, and while the Basque population is fairly dispersed around the Western states, the program at the U of N is generally regarded as the cultural and scholarly center of the American Basque community.

Bill retired as a professor emeritus in 2000, yet continues to document and enhance his 33-year effort while at Nevada. He found more time to get to know the state that he so loves and the early mining days surrounding Tonopah where his father Jack and grandfather Billy hailed from. Jack was my dad’s buddy for life, and on another day I might write of their adventures, which were many. Bill has also acquired a ranch, and his accounts of ranching are welcome in the book. With his younger brothers John, Dan and Dave, Bill stepped into their late father’s shoes with the family’s gaming and business interests.

His latest book is a dandy. "Death after Life: Tales of Nevada" is a collection of facts, tales, allegories and vignettes of Nevada and Nevadans, offering an insight into the state’s mining and livestock industries through the eyes of turn-of-the-century herders and trappers. Or hard rock miner Tasker L. Oddie’s letter to his mother. I also grew up in Nevada and thought I knew about such things, but found myself reading then re-reading much of the text. Fast-forward now to almost modern days, with the anecdotes of gaming and gamblers in the heyday of downtown Reno, with a myriad of landmarks, some well-known, others less so, like northwest Reno’s Ives Street finding their ways into the pages.

The anecdotes are by chapter, each standing alone. But not really. Only after finishing the pages can I offer the advice to read them in sequence. And that’s all I’ll say at this juncture. Bill’s writing is absolutely enrapturing, to the point that I found myself backtracking a half-page time and time again to better digest Bill’s incredible construction of sentences and thoughts into text that read like the English language and local lore set to a Brahms symphony. I thought I could occasionally turn a clever phrase with the Mother Tongue but after reading the first segment – the preface of the book – I knew I was in for both a treat and a lesson in creative writing.

The flow of the words is a pleasure, but "Tales of Nevada" brings another treat: Throughout the pages, from the library-jacket cover through almost every other page of the book, is an illustration by Peter Goin. Peter is well-regarded in Western art circles. Few aficionados of local art have not enjoyed the coffee-table book that he wrote in conjunction with Paul Starrs a few years ago. That book, "Black Rock," explores beyond where the pavement ends north of Reno into the desert.  Peter and Paul now serve as the president and executive director, respectively, of the Black Rock Institute, a group that promotes understanding of the American West, and as a matter of fact, published this book. As youths growing up in Reno we came to revere the works of Robert Caples, whose iconic Western drawings are still displayed around town. Goin has easily distinguished himself as the modern-era counterpart of Robert Caples. And as a bonus to Bill Douglass’s well-chosen words, Peter Goin’s ink appears liberally throughout the book.

It’s a good book. It’s a Nevada book, one that will become one of the required titles on all Nevadans' shelves, like "Black Rock," like Townley’s "Tough Little Town on the Truckee," Clark’s "City of Trembling Leaves," Curtis’s "Fabled City," Lew Hymers’ "Scene about Town" and others that I’ll be in the doghouse now for not mentioning. Bill will be signing it at Sundance Books & Music on Saturday, May 14 at 2 o'clock if you want one. And you do. And no, I’m not a book reviewer, but I believe in this book and in Bill. Any man who could accomplish what he has in life, in literature, as a college educator, as the founder of the Basque studies program, as a lifelong friend, while living up to a huge resume of his life’s work and concluding it with the accomplishments being done while he was, in his own words on the flyleaf, “… pursuing his real profession as a globe-trotting, fly-fishing bum” deserves our rapt attention.

See y’all at Sundance in a couple of weeks, thanks for reading, and God bless America.

Contact Breck at kfbreckenridge@live.com.