20 American Towns Where the Population Has Nearly Disappeared

Located in Eldorado Canyon south of Las Vegas, Nelson was the epicenter of one of Nevada first major gold and silver booms in the 1860s. After decades of lawless disputes, mine closures, and a catastrophic flash flood in 1974 that swept away several buildings, the population diminished to fewer than twenty people.

The site of Montana first major gold discovery in 1862 along Grasshopper Creek, Bannack mushroomed into a boomtown of three thousand residents and served briefly as territorial capital. As gold strikes occurred elsewhere, miners drifted away. Today, more than sixty historic buildings stand in peaceful solitude.

Straddling the Texas and New Mexico border, Glenrio thrived on cross-country motorists traveling the Mother Road, offering fuel on the Texas side and bars on the New Mexico side. When Interstate 40 opened in 1975, highway traffic vanished instantly, turning the motel strip into an empty outdoor museum with zero locals.

Established in the 1880s by the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad, Cisco served as a vital water replenishment depot for steam engines and later as a uranium exploration camp. When Interstate 70 bypassed the two-lane highway in the 1970s, businesses closed, leaving weathered shacks and four or fewer residents.

Following a multi-million-dollar gold strike in 1915, Oatman attracted thousands of prospectors and became a vital stop for cross-country travelers on Route 66. When mining ceased in the 1940s and Interstate 40 bypassed the mountain pass, the population shrank to under one hundred residents and friendly burros.

In the early 1900s, Thurmond was a powerhouse of the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway, processing tons of coal from surrounding New River Gorge mines. Because roads could not access the rugged canyon floor, the town relied entirely on rail traffic. When diesel engines took over, the population plunged to five people.

Between 1911 and 1938, the Kennecott Mines processed more than two hundred million dollars of high-grade copper ore deep in the Alaskan wilderness. When the lucrative veins were exhausted, the mining company abruptly halted operations and departed on the last train, leaving an enormous fourteen-story wooden mill.

In 1906, Goldfield was the largest city in Nevada, producing millions in gold bullion and home to extravagant four-story hotels and electric utilities. When ore deposits dried up and a massive 1923 fire swept through downtown, the population collapsed from tens of thousands down to around two hundred residents.

Selected as Alabama capital in 1820 at the confluence of the Alabama and Cahaba Rivers, Cahawba was designed to be a grand antebellum city. Frequent seasonal inundations forced lawmakers to relocate the capital to Tuscaloosa. After the Civil War, the town crumbled, leaving columns and ruins reclaimed by nature.

Named for the rich garnet gems embedded in surrounding mountain rock, this late nineteenth-century settlement supported a flourishing community of gold miners, saloons, and family homes. Following a destructive fire and the onset of World War I, families left their possessions behind, leaving an intact ghost town.

Founded in 1880 at ten thousand feet elevation in the Sawatch Range, St. Elmo thrived on silver and gold extraction alongside the Denver, South Park and Pacific Railroad. When the alpine railway ceased service in 1922, the population plummeted. Today, dozens of original wooden storefronts stand nearly deserted.

At its zenith in the early twentieth century, the Chisos Mining Company in Terlingua extracted much of the nation quicksilver. When market prices cratered and ore ran scarce, miners abandoned their adobe dwellings. Today, the atmospheric desert ruins host an eclectic arts community and fewer than sixty locals.

Springing up in 1905 on the edge of Death Valley, Rhyolite transformed into a modern city of several thousand within months, complete with concrete multi-story banks and a stock exchange. The financial panic of 1907 shattered investment, and within fifteen years the grand desert settlement stood completely vacant.

Picher produced over twenty billion dollars of ore to supply ammunition during two World Wars, housing twenty thousand residents. Decades of heavy extraction left behind massive mountains of lead-laced chat and hollowed-out foundations prone to sinkholes, forcing a complete federal buyout that emptied the city.

Incorporated in 1914 to serve workers at the nearby Rosin coal mine, Lost Springs saw its fortunes plunge when the mine shuttered in the 1930s. The 2000 census famously recorded the town population as one, though local officials counted a handful more. Today, fewer than six people call the quiet town home.

Founded in 1893 during regional railroad expansion, Gross anticipated rapid commercial growth that never materialized after the railway bypassed it. Fires and drought accelerated the decline. By modern counts, the official population rests at just two residents who welcome travelers to the Nebraskaland Café.

Following the discovery of gold in 1859, Bodie swelled into a notorious Sierra Nevada mining hub filled with saloons, brothels, and stamp mills. When the rich veins played out, families departed en masse. Today, California State Parks preserves over one hundred historic weathered structures with zero residents.

Perched at eight thousand feet along the Transcontinental Railroad between Cheyenne and Laramie, Buford once housed two thousand railway workers. Over the decades the population dwindled down to one lone resident, Don Sammons, before the entire outpost was sold at a high-profile international auction in 2012.

Situated in Boyd County near the South Dakota border, Monowi was once a lively farming community along the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad. After the younger generation migrated away, the town census fell to just one resident, Elsie Eiler, who serves as mayor, treasurer, and sole tavern keeper.

When an underground anthracite coal seam caught fire beneath Centralia in 1962, toxic fumes and sinkholes gradually tore the borough apart. The federal government acquired and condemned nearly every property in the 1980s, leaving a deserted street grid where fewer than five determined residents still remain.