Channel 6 Nocturnis - Official Blog
From the Archives: The Twin Legacies of the Young Family
By Alden Hedges | July 23, 2025
If you tuned into Channel 6 this week for Wild West Nocturnis, you heard the story of a family whose legacy was so integral to our city that they built its heart in two separate places. For those who missed it, and for those who want to delve deeper, I wanted to put pen to paper and reflect on the poignant tale of the Jung family, later known as the Youngs.
Every citizen of Nocturnis knows our city was forged in the grit of silver mines and the ambition of the railroad. We are a city of steel and stone, born from the dust of the frontier. But a city’s soul is often found in quieter places, in the stories of the families who provided not just industry, but community and comfort. The saga of the Young family is perhaps the finest example of this duality—a chronicle of how one family’s diverging dreams helped define both the sophisticated core and the pastoral heart of our city for over a century.
A Fork in the Road
The story begins, as so many Nocturnis stories do, with a journey. Around 1852, Johann and Annelise Jung arrived from an unstable Prussia, seeking not fortune, but peace and a plot of land to call their own. They established a simple poultry farm on what was then the far outskirts of town. Their beginning was humble, built on the hard work of raising chickens and the irresistible aroma of Annelise's roast chicken sold to dusty travelers.
They raised two sons who embodied the two futures of the West: Friedrich and Matthias. Friedrich, the visionary, was drawn to the chaotic, vibrant pulse of downtown Nocturnis. He saw the rough-and-tumble boomtown and envisioned a future of elegance and order. Matthias, the traditionalist, felt a profound connection to the soil his parents had tilled. He saw a future in nurturing the land, not conquering it. This fundamental difference in spirit would give Nocturnis not one, but two Young family empires.
[Image: A faded, sepia-toned photograph of a simple 19th-century farmhouse with chicken coops nearby.]
The City’s Pillar: Young’s Hotel & Restaurant
With a vision fixed on high society, Friedrich, now anglicizing his name to "Young," erected a monument to civility: the magnificent Young’s Hotel & Restaurant. In a town of saloons and boarding houses, Young's was an oasis. One can almost picture the gaslights flickering on polished mahogany, hear the murmur of hushed deals between cattle barons and mining magnates, and see the stoic faces of ranchers enjoying a rare, refined meal. It was the city’s formal gathering place, its unofficial town hall.
Its legend was forged in the crucible of the Great Fire of 1907. When flames consumed the building, many believed it was the end of an era. But in a display of pure frontier grit, Friedrich rallied public support and rebuilt it, grander than before. The new Young’s Hotel became a symbol of our city's indomitable will.
The County's Heart: Young's Farm
While Friedrich was building his urban empire, Matthias was cultivating its rural counterpart. Young's Farm became more than a business; it was a communal treasure. He expanded beyond poultry to fields of sweet corn and a sprawling pumpkin patch. He and his descendants started the annual Harvest Festival, a tradition that became woven into the fabric of Nocturnis life. For generations, the farm was where city children could feel dirt under their fingernails, ride a hay wagon under an open sky, and experience the simple joy of pulling a carrot from the earth. With their motto, "Sharing Our Farm with Our Friends," the Youngs provided a vital connection to the land in an increasingly industrial world.
[Image: A vibrant, colorized photo from the 1970s showing families at the Young's Farm pumpkin patch.]
The Unstoppable Tide of Progress
But the wild west doesn't stay wild forever. The very progress the Youngs helped fuel became an unstoppable tide. For the hotel, the rise of the automobile and new motels on the city's edge slowly drained the life from the old downtown core. For the farm, the city's expanding suburbs began to encroach, turning pastures into property lines and quiet nights into subdivisions. The family fought a valiant, public battle for a conservation easement, but the pressures of development and politics were too great.
With heavy hearts, the family saw both of their empires close. The hotel served its last meal in 2004 and was demolished in 2010. The farm, after its last festival in 2006, was sold.
A Legacy of Dust and Rebirth
Today, the two legacies offer a stark and telling contrast. One is a scar in the cityscape—a vacant downtown lot where a landmark once stood, filled only with memories. The other, however, found a second life. The farmland was eventually purchased by the Mortimer family, who, inspired by its history, resurrected it as Mortimer Farms. They have brought back the festivals and the markets, grafting a new future onto the old roots.
The story of the Young family is a powerful lesson in what we choose to preserve. It reminds us that a city's identity is a fragile thing, built not only of brick and ambition, but of tradition and memory. One legacy was razed, awaiting a new identity; the other saw its spirit transplanted, a testament to the enduring power of the land.
Did your family visit Young's Farm? Do you remember dining at the hotel? Share your memories in the comments below.
You can stream the full episode, "The Two Empires of the Young Family," on the Channel 6 website. And be sure to tune in next week for another chapter of Wild West Nocturnis.a