Visit Park City

It was spring 1925, and the muddy sidewalk bustled with rugged frontiersmen, jovial children and soil -covered miners. A woman of nearly 200 pounds, with a peg leg and a parrot perched on her shoulder, pushed her way down Main Street, Park City. Her walking cane guided her past boarding houses, saloons and stables until finally reaching City Hall. With kind, intense eyes, the woman pulled out a roll of cash from her extravagant handbag, and handed it to the town clerk. She amiably paid her monthly “fees” – $15 for herself and $7.50 for each of her “doves,” and politely thanked the cashier with a “good day.”

Decades earlier, Rachel Beulah Hayden had been born to Irish immigrants in Cleveland, Ohio. The Haydens had fled the Great Potato Famine of 1845-1855, and had made the harrowing journey to the United States. The newcomers struggled to make a living in the harsh Cleveland docks and were forced to live in crowded tenements. Young Rachel suffered through hunger-filled days, bitter nights and rampant exploitation. Although this feisty Irish girl was bright and curious, schooling was an unattainable dream, and her future seemed as dark as the waters in Lake Erie.

Then in 1889, Rachel caught wind about a settlement in Utah that had recently discovered silver, lead and zinc. Although only 25 years old, she was already a divorced single mother and was down to her last dollar. Hoping to make a better life for herself and her daughter, Florence, the determined young woman packed what few belongings she had, placed her child on her hip and bravely boarded a train headed west.

As the locomotive pulled into the small station, Rachel could see bright lanterns shining boldly nearby. Like many mining communities, Park City had a bustling “red-light district,” strategically placed next to the train depot. The lanterns were used as open signs and lit up the streets all day and night. It soon became apparent that prostitution was one of the only ways a single woman could make a living in the rough and tumble town.

Rachel recognized the potential of becoming a “soiled dove” – what the working girls were called – and quickly embraced the scandalous lifestyle. With a sparkling personality and can-do attitude, Rachel worked her way from a lowly dove to parlor madam. Patrons enjoyed her wit and banter, and her girls adored her loving and caring nature. The generous madam was unique amongst her fellow mistresses as she provided her doves with education, etiquette lessons and regular doctor visits.

One day while strolling through town, Rachel was introduced to George Urban, a successful mine owner and skilled carpenter. The two appreciated each other’s personalities and ambitious drives, and began courting. In 1899, they filed for a wedding license and were officially married. George continued to manage his mining company, and Rachel continued to manage her doves. Soon she was being referred to as Mother Urban.

In 1907, the townsfolk forced the red-light district to move farther east, away from Main Street and downtown. Rachel seized upon the opportunity, and with George’s contracting assistance, built 16 side-by-side rental properties located on what is now Deer Valley Drive. This string of buildings was soon called “the row,” and the infamous lane was quickly bustling with miners, trainsmen, scoundrels and prominent locals.

As Rachel ensured Park City profited substantially through a collection of taxes and fines, the city council tacitly accepted the houses of ill-repute. Rachel also charmingly reminded mine owners and managers that without a red-light district, the large population of single miners would have nowhere to satisfy their “basic needs.” This would force them to take the long trip down the canyon to Salt Lake City, which would increase absenteeism and would result in the owners losing profits.

Rachel’s own house on 346 Heber Ave., was called the Purple Parlour. The lavish home was decorated with lace curtains and expensive furniture. The main living area entertained guests with music and a wet bar. The doves would read aloud from classic literature and help illiterate miners’ pen letters home to their loved ones, according to the book Selling Sex in Utah by Eileen Hallet Stone.

There was no charge for guests to mingle on the first floor; however, to move upstairs, patrons would pay $2.50 “per encounter,” or $10 for the entire night. A miner would earn $2.50 to $3 for a nine-hour shift, so the doves always prepared for a busy night following payday. 

During warmer months, the madam would sit on the front porch with her favorite pet parrot and other furry friends. The lively bird would shout obscenities to passersby, while dogs and cats crowded around the steps. Rumor has it that during this time, the proud lady lost her limb to diabetes and began using the peg leg and cane to get around.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Rachel’s scandalous lifestyle that made her a local celebrity. Instead, she was known around the community for her generous and charitable nature. The townsfolk called her “the kind-hearted madam,” as her endless philanthropic endeavors were legendary. If a local worker was injured on the job, they could count on financial and medical aid to be offered to them. She also supported out-of-work miners and struggling small businesses and donated large amounts of money to Park City’s public schools and culture center.


Brandi Christofferson

During the notoriously harsh, blizzardy holidays, Rachel served the volunteer firemen a bountiful spread of turkey sandwiches, desserts and hot drinks. She beguiled the local switchboard operators with delightful stories and gifts of candy. Single miners and railroad workers especially looked forward to the Purple Parlour’s annual Christmas party, where food, festive toddies and good cheer were bestowed to all who attended.

Year after year, the kind-hearted madam greeted guests at her front door and sent salutations to fellow Parkites. Rachel would check in on those less fortunate and always paid her respect at wakes and funerals. Then one morning in 1933, the local doctor was called to the Purple Parlour. The elderly gentleman was welcomed into the madam’s bedroom and the door was softly closed.

Soon a solemn quiet began to pass from floor to floor. In a hushed whisper, the words stomach cancer broke the silence. Within days, endless vomiting started, and blood began to appear. With stubborn resolve, the Irish girl battled against the sickness. Sadly, however, at the age of 69, Park City’s most famous madam lost her war against the disease and passed away. 

The funeral was said to be one of the most impressive in Park City history. It cost a staggering $515, a small fortune for the time. As a true legend to the local townsfolk, Mother Urban’s colorful life, endless generosity and civic contributions were honored and celebrated, with no apologies or regrets.

Rachel Beulah Urban was buried in the Park City Cemetery next to her husband. Park City Museum’s “Dreams and Reality: Behind the Romance of the West” exhibit revisits the infamous red-light district, and her cemetery plot 27 can be viewed today, honoring the resilient, notorious and kindhearted woman.


Brandi Christofferson