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Currant, Nevada, is a small unincorporated community in Nye County with roots going back to the late 19th century. The settlement began as a ranching and farming outpost, named for the wild currant bushes that grew in the nearby hills and draws. The farmers and ranchers there provided food for nearby mining camps. Currant gained modest prominence when a post office was established in 1883, which helped anchor the community in the remote expanses of central Nevada. Like many rural Nevada settlements, it relied on cattle ranching, hay production, and limited farming as its economic foundation, while mining activity in surrounding districts occasionally brought waves of activity and traffic through the area.

Over the decades, Currant remained a tiny but enduring settlement, even as many nearby mining camps boomed and vanished. Currant itself became somewhat of a mining camp when mines were located nearby. In the 20th century, the town served as a waypoint along the Midland Trail and later U.S. Highway 6, providing basic services to travelers crossing the long stretches between Ely and Tonopah. Though the post office closed in 1943, Currant has persisted as a small ranching community, never growing large but maintaining its identity as part of Nevada’s rural heritage.

Probably the most important reason for Currant's existence was to provide food both locally for for outlying mining camps.

VEGETABLES FROM CURRANT CREEK
Daily we now see upon our streets wagon loads of vegetables from Currant Creek, about 30 miles month of us where there are quite a number of farmers. One of these informs us that the crops are looking extremely well: that in one instance, least, a field of barley there will yield 50 bushels to the acre, while the average yield of all will exceed 30 bushels. The soil is dry, warm and gravelly –having originally been covered with sage-brush— and is irrigated by water from the stream which is of considerable size. Corn grows finely, as do all kinds of root crops. Nest year several hundred acres will be planted there.
-White Pine News, Treasure City, August 20, 1870

If you need pigs, Currant is the place to get them.

GONE INTO BUSINESS.-Our stirring fellow citizens, Marcus Schultz, has gone into the pork business. He has formed a copartnership with the influential and industrious Chinaman named Charley Pinup. Marcus is to furnish all the brains for the concern, and Charley is to do all the work and furnish the capital. The firm left here on Monday last, on foot, for Currant Creek, where they expect to purchase a largo number of porkers. They will make their first drive to Eureka for a market.
-Eureka Daily Sentinel, May 21, 1876

Sounds fair (rolling eyes)

I guess the produce wasn't always of the highest quality, but this was before refrigeration and modern food storage techniques.

A LOAD OF SICKNESS— Dick Barnes' mustang clipper arrived in port night before last, three days from Currant Creek, loaded with tomatoes, watermelons and cholera morbus. Uncle Dick was pedaling the fruit on Main street yesterday, and was well patronized, a crowd standing around the wagon till the last melon was disposed of. The arrival of the vessel brought happiness to the physicians, the Shoshones and the boys; but by nightfall the first-named were the only truly happy ones.
-Eureka Daily Sentinel, October 7, 1876

An explanation for the above headline. Dick Barnes brought a wagon (“mustang clipper”) load of produce from Currant Creek — tomatoes and watermelons. The article adds “and cholera morbus” to the list, but this isn’t literal cargo. Cholera morbus was a 19th-century term for severe gastrointestinal illness, usually food poisoning or dysentery. The joke is that the watermelons and tomatoes caused stomach sickness among the townsfolk after being eaten. So, the “load of sickness” refers to the produce shipment being tainted, spoiled, or at least blamed for giving many people stomach troubles. It’s a bit of frontier newspaper humor: the only ones happy after eating the fruit were the doctors and druggists (“physicians, the Shoshones and the boys”), since treating illness meant more business for them.

Sure they were hard-working farmers, but they managed to have a little fun as well.

Dick Barnes, of Currant Creek, was in town yesterday with a load of his splendid potatoes. He was also making arrangements for three day's racing at his ranch, commencing on the 4th of October.
-Eureka Daily Sentinel, August 24, 1880

CURRANT CREEK RACES
The three days' racing at Dick Barnes' ranch, on Currant Creek, Nye county, will commence on Saturday, September 4th. The first race will be for a half mile and repeat, best two in three, for a purse of 1 $500. Same day, a colt race for three-year-olds, a half mile dash for $300. Second day—purse of $700, free for all horses in Nevada; one mile and repeat, best two in three. Third day— dash of a half mile for a purse of $500. All the races will be run, by the rules of the Pacific Blood Horse Association. Uncle Dick Barnes will treat his friends well, and there will be some good racing and lots of sport.
-Eureka Daily Sentinel, September 3, 1880

A new postoffice is to be
Currant gets the first of three post offices.

Established at Curran Creek and the mail route extended to that point. Very respectfully, R. A. Elmer, Second Assistant Postmaster General.
-Eureka Daily Sentinel, March 22, 1883

Local mineral discoveries made Currant a base for some smaller mining operations.

SILVER IN SANDSTONE. — The Eureka Leader of last Saturday says : From Dave M. Steindler, who has just returned from Tybo and Currant Creek, we learn that they have struck a rich mining country on Currant Creek, about two and one-half miles above Dick Barnes' ranch. It is in the same range of mountains as the Eberhardt mine, though the ore has hot n silver, still the formation is entirely different, being the exact same as at Silver Reef, Utah—of a sandstone formation. Judges who have compared the ore say that it is almost impossible tell them apart. In the Bottomfields and Buckeye mines the croppings for over 3,000 feet assay from $14 to $22. The ledge, when struck, opened out about an inch wide, and at a depth of five feet is eleven inches wide. The people of the Creek have , formed a mining district to be known as Currant Creek District, and have elected Uncle Dick Barnes Mining Recorder.
-Daily Territorial Enterprise. November 27, 1883

The area was no stranger to violence and other crimes.

A STARTLING MURDER.
"I Am Dying, Indian Charley Done It."
We get through J. W. Simpson, of Currant Creek, Nye county, the following information in regard to a startling murder in his neighborhood: On the 11th inst., Edward Lamb, a rancher and stockman, was found dead in his cabin on White River. A jury of inquest found that he came to his death by a bullet wound from some firearm; and that Indian Charley, an Indian well known in the White River Valley, is believed to have done the killing. Deceased was 55 years old, and a native of Ohio. The body was found in the cabin of the deceased by Mr. Edwards on the 11th day of November. The jury of inquest went over from Currant Creek on the 15th
and made the verdict, as above. The right arm of the deceased was found shattered by a bullet which entered the body at the armpit, but did not go through. He evidently was not killed instantly. The last he wrote in his diary was Oct. 29; but on the same kind of paper was found a note saying: "I am dying. Indian Charley done it." The paper and pencil were found lying on the ground by the corpse. He wrote it with his left hand, as his right was so badly shattered by the bullet that he couldn't use it. It can only be a guess as to how long he lived, but he must have written under pain and distress, or he would have made a fuller and plainer statement. But he wrote plain enough to name his murderer. Mr. Simpson concludes his note thus: "This is the third man that has been killed in this neighborhood since the first of July, and I think it is time to stop some of it."
-Eureka Daily Sentinel, November 21, 1884

A stop on the Midland Trail, Current was a handy resting point, and probably provided gas and water for early automobile drivers. In those days, woads in such remote areas could be minimally maintained if they were at all.

CURRANT ROAD IN DANGEROUS WAY
There have been several narrow escapes from accident and possible death by autoists at both curves approaching the Currant schoolhouse. The road, as it winds around these curves, is very narrow, two vehicles not being able to pass one another, and autoists rounding these curves in opposite directions cannot see one another until they meet. Two local autos of Currant came together on one of the curves last week and a young lady was thrown from one of them, sustaining painful though not serious injuries. Attorneys Anthony Jurich and G. T. Bareman came close to having an accident at this dangerous place while en route to Tonopah from Ely on Sunday. The highway can be widened at small expense and the cost of the work might save Nye county from a heavy suit for damages some day.
-Tonopah Daily Bonanza, March 3, 1921

Tonopah-Ely Road Negotiated by Stage Driver
TONOPAH, Dec. 15.—(Special). — Harry Brotherton, driver of the stage that left Ely Thursday morning for Tonopah, arrived late yesterday afternoon with the body of Duncan Thomson, whose funeral had been postponed on account of the delay caused by the storm. Brotherton broke through the storm over Murray and Currant summits, eighteen miles west of Ely, reaching Currant Thursday afternoon. Resuming his journey, he found that he could not see beyond the radiator of the machine, while the road was obliterated with deep drifts where the highway traverses low country. After two hours of battling with the storm, he was forced to return to Currant, resuming his journey yesterday morning. From Currant to Tybo, the stage was forced to use second gear all the way, while from Tybo cut-off to Five Mills, thirty-five miles east of Tonopah the road was fair. From there on the road was in bad shape to McKinney Tanks, and the worst traveling was encountered within five miles of Tonopah. Jimmy Foster, driver of the Tybo truck, and two companions were brought in late Thursday night by a relief crew from Tonopah who found the men after they had abandoned the truck in deep snow and trudged two miles through the drifts to McKinney’s.
- Reno Evening Gazette, December 15, 1928

Even as late as the 1940's, searching for minerals continued.

CURRANT CREEK HAS NEW FINDS
Reporting the discovery of a new vein on property of the Comstock Gold Point Mines Co., in the Currant Creek district in northeaster Nye County, John N. Richardson, manager, said in Reno that the vein, opened on the No. 2 tunnel, showed a width of four feet of quartz and was cut at a point giving 310 ft. of backs.
-Nevada State Journal, March 4, 1940

According to Nevada Post Offices, the last post office here closed in the 1940's, however, there are references to later post offices operating here.

Quantities of oil were located here in the 1950's and 1960's, prompting dreams of riches.

NEVADA'S OIL STRIKE RAISE THE IMPORTANT QUESTION OF WHAT COMMUNITIES ARE GOING TO BENEFIT MOST
Currant, With Five Buildings, May Be a Big Town Soon
Shell Oil Company's official report that they had come into an 80 foot oil strata in the Eagle Springs No. 1 unit, 10 miles south of Currant P.O. and that, after a four-hour drill stem test the well shoed a capacity of approximately 200 barrels a day of 26 gravity oil, Nevadans have been aroused like they have never been since Tonopah and Goldfield, 50 years ago. The subject of the oil well at Currant P.O., or as it was formerly called, Calloway's, 117 miles east of Tonopah on Highway U.S. 6 is on every tongue and almost everyone is optimistic about future prospects. The possibility that a large community might grow around the present activity in the immediate vicinity of Currant is not to be dismissed. Tiny, sleepy Currant P.O. as it is designated on maps, serves as a cross-road gas pump station, and has a small grocery store which supplies ranchers and folks who live at the Duckwater Reservation. In the grocery store there is a section devoted to post office facilities. Currant presently has five buildings. The other buildings include a stone house surrounded by cottonwoods and green lawns, with big iron triangle hung to the branches which serves as an old fashioned dinner bell. In addition the highway department has a small maintenance yard there, plus a cottage for the maintenance man. That's Currant P.O. right in the middle of oil development.
-Nevada State Journal, February 21, 1954

If Currant was "formerly known as "Calloways," it must have been for a very brief period. I can find a reference to a Frank Calloway of nearby Preston on a 1926 Post Office application, and a 1922 story of a disastrous fire at his farm ".. on Currant Creek," but no other reference to the name.

Even the Governor came to Currant to have a look see.

SAWYER VISITS OIL 'BOOM' COUNTRY
Governor Sawyer Sees A Page From The past
CURRANT Gov. Grant Sawyer visited the Currant Creek School yesterday. He chatted with its teacher, Mrs. Lena Sharp. And he heard its 14 pupils present a program of poetry and music they had prepared especially for him. "You don't know how lucky you are," he told them. "It is a marvelous thing to still be able to go to a school like this and get P.11 the individual attention Mrs. Sharp gives you." The Currant Creek School is among the last of Nevada's one-room schoolhouses. It has no indoor plumbing, and it has only been within the last few years that it has had electricity. It is like a page from the nostalgic past. Not to Mrs. Sharp. - Her years of experience at Currant Creek have qualified her as one of Nevada's outstanding experts On rural education. "I'd almost rather have my kids go to school here than in town," a Nye County school town," a Nye County school trustee whispered during the program for Gov. Sawyer. "She teaches them everything including good manners." One year it appeared doubtful there would be five pupils for the Currant Creek School for the Currant Creek School the minimum needed to keep it open. "It doesn't matter," Mrs. Sharp told the trustees, promising to waive her pay. "If you'll make sure they can get their certificates, I'll teach them." This year's 14 pupils range from first graders to seventh graders. They printed a special edition of their mimeographed school paper' the Blue Eagle Standard, in honor of the governor's visit. They served punch, cupcakes and cookies to the chief executive and the members of his party. They posed on the steps for a group picture with their teacher and the governor. The shaggy dog who sleeps on the front porch grudgingly moved out of the way for them. "I came here to see the oil fields, but I really wanted to see you, too," the governor told them.
-Nevada State Journal, September 10, 1965

Currant was probably never more lively than when hopes of oil discoveries were made.

CURRANT LIVELY
The sleepy town of Currant immediately came alive with activity and the restaurant and motel owned by Mr. and Mrs. Very Cyr is crowded night and day. A deal is in the making to drill two wildcats on their ranch surrounding the townsite. Company representatives, land men and workers are tight lipped about their presence and their findings. It would be difficult to convince the Cyrs an oil boom is not in progress. When pressed for information they smile wisely but say nothing.
-Nevada State Journal, January 28, 1968

Things are beginning to wind down and Currant is about to become a ghost. Don't know if ol' Dick ever got his $500k

For sale: One laid back town in east Nevada
Population 17:
Asking price is $500,000.
Two hundred and fifty miles almost due east of Reno is Currant, Nevada, where the only visible growth is weeds and jackrabbits.
Now, Currant’s venerable owner, Dick Blakely, wants to sell the town, and he thinks his “reduced cash price” of $500,000 will find a buyer very fast. Currant is cow country and an oil patch of hundreds of wells, some pumping and some not. It has a population of 17 introverted souls who like privacy better than gold. “This place is the buy of a lifetime” sells Blakely. “But you gotta like isolation and obscurity. People here mind their own business. We have no politics; therefore, we have no crime, crap or corruption. Currant is just a pinpoint on a Nevada road map, but the oil field workers and Duckwater Indians are happy inhabitants of the area. It’s heartbreak time when you think of selling a Utopia like this, but everything goes sooner or later. Besides 115 acres of ranchland in and around Currant, the assets that Blakely hopes to sell are a restaurant-bar in a 6,000 square-foot building; Blakely’s 1,440 square-foot mobile home, a 12-room motel, a two-bay mechanic’s shop, four single-wide mobile home rental units, and an overnight recreational vehicle park with hookups on a dozen spaces. Currant probably is the only town in America with a positive cash flow, and it has no debts, taxes owed, mortgages or bonds. “Currant is laid back,” says Blakely. “People around here think they’ll live forever. We don’t have a boothill, or a sawbones, and nobody comes here with grandiose plans to build a Wal-Mart. And I haven’t heard of anybody dying here in the years I’ve been around.” Blakely says the Currant Inn may look like one of those places you walk into and fight your way out of, but the patrons are their own police force. “The Inn isn’t really an inn. We were going to call it the Currant Ranch. Then, we thought that everybody would take it to be a brothel, and who needs that?” Currant hasn’t recorded a major crime in years. The free spirits who live somewhere out in the vast 3,000 or so square miles of open range from Tonopah to Currant are unshackled by laws and regulations. “Why have a bunch of laws if there’s nobody here to violate them?” Blakely asks. “We see herds of cattle and pronghorn antelope, wild horses and burros, now and then a golden eagle sweeping the sage for a jackrabbit lunch, and we hear the eerie silence, trembling with chugging oil well pumps and mooing cows. Not much else is happening.” The restaurant-bar is Currant’s social center. The bar is an antique, polished by the elbows of thousands of men and women it has long outlasted. The restaurant has a walk-in refrigerator, freezer, washer and dryer and enough cooking utensils to furnish the Reno Hilton kitchen. The interior is warmed by three potbelly stoves and a fireplace. The Currant Inn also has two 5,000-gallon tanks for its gasoline pumps. Currant dates back to the Civil War if tombstones in the area are to be believed. It is a community of hardy, if reclusive, characters today.
As you near the intersection of U.S. 6 and Nevada 397, you easily spot Currant’s landmark, a 10 foot fiberglass Hereford bull. “It’s the end of a drama for me,” philosophizes Blakely.
-Reno Gazette Journal November 27, 1994

As of now, oil exploration near Currant seems to be largely in the exploratory or "potential" phase rather than active drilling, especially for oil/gas wells. Any 'boom" which would have transformed Currant was brief and relatively insignificant. Currant has returned to its ranching and farming roots.