Monday, June 29, 2009

Oh dang... My weed's on fire. Again?... Bummer.

While looking for a grow room photo, I came across this one from I thought that was apropriate.
If your 215 operation burns up, is it a medical emergency? Can you legally borrow a cup of medicine from your neighbor? Do you have to renew your permit?

Our area is filled with kind hearted compassionate people. So, if your neighbor's 215 operation burns down, be sure to offer them some of yours. After all, the law legalizing Marijuana is called “The Compassionate Use Act”. So... show some compassion, and loan them some of yours, that is, if their fire doesn't burn your house down too.

I've been to many fires where two or three 215 placards are on prominent display. Most of the fires that I've been to are within a stones throw of another grow operation. We are a bunch of sick puppies in SoHum. I, like Kym Kemp, don't really give a darn about the weed. Many grow operations are technically legal, but hazardous to those that live around them. How do you talk to someone about responsibility when they are dosed up on mind numbing medication?

Most all of the fires that I've been to involved the grower doing something, so totally stupid, that the first thing that comes to mind is, "how could they be so stupid?" Then it occurs to you, that it might be because of their medication. Poor folks! It's kind of a catch-22, you need the medicine, but the medicine makes you do stupid things. My theory is that a person should have to pass a clean drug test to be employed in the growing of marijuana. If any industry wanted to justify drug testing they need look no further than the Marijuana industry. The amount of “accidents” in the Marijuana cultivation industry is legend.

Talk to any firefighter that you trust to talk to you frankly, and they will tell you that well over fifty percent of the fires are directly related to Marijuana, and at least ninety percent involve Marijuana in some way.

I feel that possibly my perception a bit slanted because of my involvement in firefighting. So, I ask you, were you aware of the amount of accidents around growing operations? Or is it just me. Also, I didn't write this to be offensive to anyone. I fully realize that some growers are totally responsible, but you will have to give me that it is not the norm.

I'm not going to run around like Chicken Little and tell you that this is going to be a bad fire season. But, I will tell you that the summer heat causes the potential for disaster. So be careful, and use your heads before doing anything careless that might cause a fire.

Monday, June 22, 2009

American Indian Wealth.

Daughter of American Horse. 1908 by Edward S. Curtis.

What would you say that this woman's jewelry was worth?

The most that I have been able to find out about this woman is that she was the "Daughter of American Horse". One would think that such a beautiful woman would have a name of her own wouldn't one?

This is going to be an open thread, and I will add to the front page as I research, but I was so intrigued by the amount of those rare and expensive little shells that I had a real "wow moment". I would bet those shells, and that beauty, caused a few Braves to shake in their moccasins.

Hupa Indian Woman. 1923 by Edward S. Curtis.

Again I have no information about this woman, other than who took the photo. It is amazing to me that the photographers back then thought that their "Art" was more important than the people that they were photographing. I believe that this woman would have an amazing story.

Were baskets considered to be "Wealth" to The Hupa? They would seem like they should be. Or, were they simply utilitarian value like the early American quilt?

Chief American Horse. Oglala Sioux, born 1830
Chief America Horse was known for his wit and shrewdness. He was conciliatory toward the Whiteman because he understood how badly outnumbered that the Indian people were.

After stopping his men from killing a small group of Whitemen, he said:
“Stop, men, stop and think before you act! Will you murder your children, your women, yes, destroy your nation today?”
You are brave today because you outnumber the Whiteman, but what will you do tomorrow? There are railroads on all sides of you. The soldiers will pour in from every direction by thousands and surround you. You have little food and ammunition. It will be the end of your people, Stop, I say, Stop now!”

Several places that I Researched made note of the fact that he had beautiful daughters. Note the Sea Shell jewelry. It must have been quite valuable that far inland.

The vests made of bone were worn by Both Chiefs and Warriors. They must not have been valuable, other than their ability to protect them in battle.

This necklace is strung with dentalia shells and beads. Dentalium (Antalis pretiosum) are variously sized ocean mollusks that resemble miniature elephant tusks and may grow up to several inches in length. They first appear in the archaeological record of Pacific Northwest coastal communities around 4400 B.C.E., but in small numbers. After 1800 B.C.E., dentalium become more commonly found—particularly among the graves of high status individuals. Archaeologists credit their increased appearance during that time to a corresponding intensification of Native economies—directly related to the stabilization of ocean levels following the end of the Pleistocene ice age. As more complex trade relations developed along the Northwest Coast, dentalium—also known as hiixwa or haqua—became a highly prized mark of wealth and status, typically displayed as ornaments in clothing and headdresses, used as jewely, and even used in some places as a type of currency.

Most dentalium entering the indigenous trade network of the Pacific Northwest originated off the coast of Vancouver Island. Chicklisaht, Kyuquot, and Ehattesaht communities of the Northern Nuu-chah-nulth, inhabitants of the west coast of the island, were the primary source of the shells. However, the Kwakwaka’wakw of Quatsino Sound and Cape Scott, on the eastern coast, were also large producers. Harvesters would work from their ocean-going canoes, extending specially-constructed long poles to the dentalium beds on the ocean floor. At the end of the long poles were large brushes that were pushed into the mollusk beds, ensnaring dentalium in the process.

Those dentalium destined for the Columbia River trade network found their way south through the hands of the Makah, inhabiting the northwest region of the Olympic Peninsula, and then further south to the Chinookans on the lower Columbia River. Chinookan traders, in turn, bartered with Sahaptin-speaking peoples from the Interior, and Kalapuyans of the Willamette River Valley. Each summer, dentalium were also traded at The Dalles/Celilo trade-mart, the largest in the Pacific Northwest. From there, dentalium made their way east as far as the Great Plains.

This section of the post is about wealth and puberty baskets.

A young Indian girl was given a set of four baskets at her first menstrual cycle. One was to bathe in, one was for water, one was for food, and a small one was a drinking cup. She was put in her own house and not allowed to touch food. Someone else had to feed her. The puberty ritual is not performed for all girl just the daughters of the wealthy. It must have been like our modern day debutant ball.

The whole story is in the section below. You will want to scroll through the other stuff, but the local Puberty basket is on page 197. I pasted the whole book in here for you to gaze through. It was too complicated to cut and paste just one page so I put the whole thing here.

Don't Be impatient! It takes awhile to load. Scoll to the top and start back down as it loads, that'll give you something to do.

(I had to delete this feature on my blog because it was dominating slow computers and ISP's, but for you speedy guys, I left the link and the Complete URL, below. Sorry about the abreviations, I usually don't do that)

Puberty baskets

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Gut wrenching termoil in Iran.

Are you like me? You really don't have a clue what is going on in the Middle East? All that you really know is that the conflict has been going on over there since the days of Mohamed, that they seem to like to throw rocks, burn cars, and wave signs strategically written in English. It seems like, as Americans, that we should do something. It's obvious that they are begging for our help. Unfortunately, anytime that Americans align themselves with any faction in the Middle east, we make those people an automatic enemy, and a target. So, no matter how gut wrenching the situation is, chances are that the only thing that could happen is that America would only make the slaughter worse. Many examples of that theory can be proven. So, the best thing that we can do is wring our hands and stay out of it.

They last time that America got involved with Iran it ended up in a successful revolution. But, that was hijacked, and taken over by the Ayatollahs. Just like the lesson that we should have learned in Cuba. We need to follow through, or not get involved. The successful revolution in Cuba was hijacked by the Soviet Union, and Castro became a partner with the U.S.S.R. We got left out in the cold, and by being involved in the revolution, we got branded as an enemy. We also almost invited a nuclear missile base aimed at the U.S. if Kennedy hadn't run a good enough bluff to stop it. Sadly, I don't think that Kennedy was bluffing, and I truly believe that we skated past the thin edge of a full-out nuclear war.

It seems like we would learn the lesson of being the ones to pay the high price in human life, and have to walk away at the last minute, to give away all of our successes and victories to any other country preying on our desire stop the wars, to the point that we would abandon all that we thought was rightous enough to fight for in the first place.

President Ahmadinejad controls the military, and he could at any time order the wholesale slaughter of the people that are demonstrating for freedom. He has already branded them as terrorists. If America shows any sign of officially backing the Green Revolutionaries, who want democratic freedom, many thousands of people will die.

I've taken the liberty of giving some of you, like me, some information to take some of your confusion away. I wondered about "What's the Green all about?" I found the following explanation on the web and posted it here. With all the proper credits.

If I'm allowed an entirely superficial opinion, I'm going to predict that the green revolution will be successful. Ahmadinejad hasn't aligned himself with any really cool color.

In Iran, green has become the color of protest
The Kansas City Star

Iranian supporters of defeated presidential candidate Mir Hossein Mousavi take part in a rally in Tehran, Iran, on Thursday, June 18, 2009. (Behnam/Parspix/Abaca Press/MCT)

The sea of protest in Iran is flecked with green.
Demonstrators wave green flags. They wear green ribbons tied around their wrists and arms. They hide their faces behind green bandannas. Some of the women wear green burkas.
Green is the signature campaign color of the man on whose behalf they protest, Mir Hossein Mousavi. But green carries other significance in the Islamic world.
“Green has typically and historically been associated with Islam,” said Ibrahim Hooper, spokesman for the Council on American-Islamic Relations in Washington, D.C.
It’s not an official association, nor is it religious or sacred in meaning, Hooper said. But the color green is found in several religious and cultural references and has come to symbolize fertility, peace and the Islamic depiction of paradise.
Hooper found several descriptions of paradise in the Qur’an, for instance, that refer to the people of paradise being adorned in green silk, “gardens of the deepest green” and paradise-dwellers “reclining on meadows of green.”
“It’s been a cultural expression for probably centuries throughout different societies,” said Reem Rahman, communications coordinator at the council’s Chicago headquarters.
“You definitely find throughout history that green was adopted as the color of a nation, a flag, a campaign of different organizations … and maybe it’s just culturally perpetuated.”
Green is used often on the binding of Qur’ans and even the domes of mosques. Some people say that green was the Islamic prophet Muhammad’s favorite color, but Rahman found no verification of that.
But Muhammad is quoted in a hadith, or saying, that “greenery” is one of the three universally good things in the world, she said.
Right now, in the midst of the political protests in Iran, green is earning a new significance, a sign of solidarity, a “way for them to express their opposition and their unhappiness with the way the election was conducted,” Rahman said.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

My kind of people!

My good friend "Eel River Ernie" sent me this photo. It's so right-up-my-alley that I just had to post it. I don't know what made Eel River Ernie think of me, but I'm glad he took the time to send it my way. He suggested that, "all we needed was someone from PETA standing there with a picket sign."

I've often said, "If you make what you're talking about clear enough, that somebody knows that you have made a mistake, then they've said it clear enough to understand.

Maybe this guy (Or maybe a girl)is a shrewd business man, and spelled it wrong to get attention. I'm betting that he just wants to start a conversation, because the wood in his truck looks like Madrone, $200 dollars is too much for a pickup load of fir, but some people would pay that much for a pick-up load of Madrone.

I'm certain that no wood would land in your yard until the price was right, no matter how you spelled it.

Thank-you Eel River Ernie, from your old friend South Fork Ernie. It's been a long time since I've used that name.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Laytonville's "Old-Timers Day" Baseball Game and Barbecue.

The Laytonville Old-Timers Day is something that have looked forward to, and have enjoyed, since I was so small I can't remember. When I was a little kid I used to help Ed Downing and my dad, Everett, make the barbecue sauce for the barbecued chicken that they made every year. I got to peel and slice what seemed like tons of garlic. When I was through with that, I got to slice and squeeze the lemons. Then, while they were pouring the Sautern wine in, I got to sneak a few sips of wine. I remember telling Ed Downing how much I liked butter, so he gave me a cube to eat. He said that he was quite fond of butter himself and he acted like he was eating it too. I don't recall why, but I remember getting sick to my stomach a few times after helping dad and Ed. My mother thought that maybe it was just too much excitement for me. I agree that drinking wine and eating butter is pretty exciting stuff for little kids, but I always felt fine the next day.

The day of the barbecue, we would wrap strips of a cotton sheet around a willow stick, until we had a large swab. We would use the swab to keep the chicken swabbed with sauce and moist while it was cooking over the sizzling hot open oak wood flame. The pits were built especially for chicken, they are very deep, and the flames are at least four feet away from the chicken. The hot glow comes up through the chicken and sizzles it to a golden tender brown. When the chicken was thoroughly done, it was placed in large serving pans. When the pans would come back to be refilled, I would take a spoon and scoop the cooked garlic from the bottom of the pan along with the left over juices, and pour it over a piece of french bread toast. I loved that stuff. Of course by evening, I had too much excitement again.

The people of town all bring their favorite recipe for chili beans and salad. There is french bread and watermelon, and any thing you might want for a refreshment. The whole thing is much like a big pot luck dinner, with the best food that you've ever eaten.

I fondly remember (now, I didn't at the time) all of the old-timers sitting around telling fascinating stories of the good old days. One of the stories I remember, is the old fellow who would always come up to my Grandmother Ruby and say, "Ruby do you remember the time when we were kids that I packed you across the creek? They would both Blush and smile a lot, but nothing more was said. I often wondered what the whole story might have been, but I was always too wise to ask. Now, I have endless speculation about it.

All of the local politicians are there. They are there in great abundance during and election year, and if perhaps they miss the ball game and barbecue, they are held conspicuous in their absence, and their bright prospect of the winning the vote for office dims a little. Local politics are discussed, and a few beers are quaffed.

The Laytonville town baseball team always plays the Willits town team, in what is well known as a friendly grudge match. They start the first inning with all of the towns old-and-retired, but still spirited, baseball players. They show all of the form and style of their younger years, and then they gratefully turn the game over to the "Kids". Most of the "kids" are into their "Past Prime Years". They get pretty serious at times, then they always seem to remember that the game is all in god fun, and in good sportsmanship. Then, all too soon, it's all over, and they knock the dirt from their cleats, and head home, and start looking forward to next year.

I'm filled with all of the memories of the people that I have known, that are gone now. Sadly, they are too numerous to mention, and I would leave someone out, or get them in the wrong order. I feel obligated to mention that Diana (Elliot) Robinson died and wasn't there last year. Her absence was felt by everyone. she was part of the event for many years, and I truly believe that she had a major part in keeping the event together. It is up to us, and the rest of the people of Laytonville, to keep this as the great event that it has become. I hope that It even becomes more popular through the years. After all, there is an endless supply of Old Timers. We may as well enjoy ourselves!

This year's game will be held Saturday, August 15th 2009.
I think that it starts around noon? I'll clear that up and post it here.

I will be there with my wife, and most of my family will be there. This would be a perfect opportunity to get some of your history questions answered, and have a great meal, and watch a great game. I sincerely hope that, if you are at all interested, that you will come to the Barbecue. The price of the meal is reasonable. I'll get back to you on that also.

I know that I'm two months ahead of the event, but I wanted to give you "planning room".


Saturday, June 13, 2009

Speed DeVee, Erwin Foltz, George Brooks and others.

This came from Anonymous: "SORRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT!!but i'd like to see a thread about SPEED DEVEE! where did he come from?what did he do?WHY THE NAME"SPEED"???"

I'd like to see a post about Speed DeVee myself. I have little direct knowledge of him. I have no pictures. So, I'll do a post and hope that someone will fill in a few of the blanks. His name was Loren M. "Speed" DeVee.

Speed was a fixture in Garberville. He was known a the man to go to if you needed a cheap easy repair done on your car or truck. He had a Garage in Garberville. It was just across the alley from the old Redwood Inn. Today it would be next to George Rolf Real Estate company. It was located where the south end of Ray's Sentry Parking lot is now. Back in the sixties, he had an International Scout Dealership in the building. His garage was a big old barn with a tin roof and tin siding. He had a mechanic by the name of Moody. Between the two of them, there wasn't anything that they couldn't get running.

Back before the Freeway bypassed Garberville, Speed had a wrecking yard just east of where the school yard to the Garberville school was. He also had a used auto parts store, it was called; "Poor Mans Auto Parts". It was the last building on the south west side of Garberville. It was located in the big turnout just at the south end of the southbound freeway entrance. Right across from the Shine Sherburn residence.

I guess one of the things that Speed was most noted for was his "Ambulance". He had an old Cadillac hearse painted up like an ambulance. His wife, Bertha, was his "Nurse". He hauled a lot of people to the Garberville Hospital. He had a C.B. radio for comunication to his "base" in his Garage. He had 100 watt cheaters on his radios, but nobody complained. Whenever you heard Speed's siren leaving town, you would turn on your C.B. radio and get a blow-by-blow description. Stuff like; "Tell Dr. Pierson to stand by, I think that he is going to have to sew this guys leg back on". Gordie Tosten has a funny story about the time he broke his leg in the woods and they had Speed come pick him up. He said that the gurney was loose, and every time Speed would go uphill, the gurney would roll back and slam against the back door. As soon as he went over the hill or hit the brakes he would roll forward and hit the back of Speed drivers seat. He said that he was scared to death that the door was going to fly open, but Speed wasn't worried. He said that; "It does that all the time". Gordie used to tell that story during the drink-outs at the Fire Department barbecues. It got funnier every time he told it.

Speed rented the back of his Garage to Erwin Foltz, a person who was Garberville's equivalent of Thomas Edison. Erwin was a highly respected man in Garberville. He was the one who kept the Garberville Water Company running. He did all of the repairs on the Garberville Fire trucks. When Erwin died they named the new Garberville fire Hall after him. I remember that I had a lift gate on my truck that was broken. The lift gate had a regular old Ford starter motor on it. I went to Erwin to get some parts, but he wanted to know how a plain old Ford starter motor could run both ways. He offered to fix the gate "no charge" if I would let him take my motor apart. The motor had the shunt coils disconnected, and had a separate wire running to them, when the main winding was shut off, and the shunt winding was energised it would make the motor run backwards, and lower the gate. I tried to tell him that, but he had to see it himself to believe it. (I know people like that.) After he took it apart he declared: "They have the shunt coils wired separately. So the motor can run either way." Yeah, No shit Erwin.

Speed sold out to George Brooks, who opened a tire shop that he ran for years. George eventually sold the building to Bob Smith who tore the building down to build a parking lot for his store. George is still around along with "Brooks Enterprises". He delivers Efficiency Service Delivery packages to me almost every morning. He has a motorcycle detail and storage facility up in the Meadows Business park. He is quite busy and energetic.

Speed lived out his last years in Ferndale. He died last year, and they say he was sharp witted clear up to the end. He must have been in his late eighties.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Dang! Tagged!

I drove in yesterday and noticed that I had been tagged. I got a little chuckle out of it, and decided that I would have to take a picture and do a post. then, as often happens in the spring, I got too busy to even take a picture.

So, I've been tagged. I did notice that there was a coffee house poem that showed up on my blogsite, ending with a little hint about being tagged.

"1. back in time towhen the white night was talking bakedwords and the pink queen giving headback in time to the abaloney ballonyroom where they fill more and kill lessand back in time to Elvis and JackKerouac back to Sinatra, Ella, Satchamosingin' on the sunny side of the the street da ma ba da boi..put your troubles in a pocket with a hole in it...

2. back in time the dresses on the manikins going up and down like in hG Wells -- the Time Machine -- back to Mary Shelly's Frankenstien is she related to Robin Shelly and who was married to Mary back in time? back in time to Kubla Khan and the pyramids, Suzy, standing by the nile a black catback to the dinosaur the neandrathal and Kirk...

3. back to the beginning before true and false.. before lightbefore heavy and before the tree fell or the angelback to the Void, to memory, to the conjunction of the linear progressions meeting with its perpendicular twin at the beginning of right NOW where there is --peace but i am human and have a pink pen to write my name and here i am --LOL!]\\

i think there four i forgot,


Well... As I have learned time and time again, it's not nice to keep a lady waiting. This showed up this afternoon:

........."1. if my feathers fell before you got there, did they make a sound?

3. was it the same squeaky sound that my pink marker pen makes when i write my tag in Gville?
circling in a hold pattern,


It sounds like the Lady gets a little pissy when she thinks she hasn't been noticed. then to make matters worse, OMR confused her. I can't repeat what she said to him but I can only say that he probably deserved the tongue lashing he got. But she ended with another hint about tagging me. So I thought that I had better make a note that I saw her "Tag" because I don't want to end up in the same dog house as OMR.

The photo of the sign that Suzy tagged reminded me of a song that was the rage when suzy was born.

Hammer-Time... Can't touch this! Only say "Blah Blah time" in the propper place.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Stand Back Non-believers... Way Back! Proof on the "64 Flood.

The unbelievable snow and rainfall that caused the unbelievable December1964 flood.

I need to start with thanks to Robin Shelley, Kym Kemp, and Olmanriver, who provided all of the photos and research for this story. I provided my own memory, and bits of Bullshistory to be verified or proven wrong.

Many, many times I have expressed how hard it rained in December of 1964. Many, many times I have witnessed people not believe what I had to say. Many, many times I’ve heard people propose their own theories of the flood, and why it was a disaster of major proportions. Usually their theories fall back on the fact that the loggers had stripped the hills bare and there was nothing to hold the water back. Somehow people just cannot wrap their minds around how much it snowed and rained in December of 1964.

Read, and pay particular attention to eyewitness reports. Robin Shelley lived in Laytonville at the time of the ‘64 flood. She said that the valley floor had at least a foot of snow. The hills surrounding Laytonville, and indeed all the hills of the north coast had a deep, deep snow pack. Then the heavy, warm tropical rains started. It rained like a thunder shower for days, then it started raining harder, and then again harder. It was the hardest that anyone living here then or since has ever seen it rain. It still gives me chills to think about that rain, 45 years later.

The rain was intense. It had rained over 36” in that December. From the 18th to the 23rd (5 Days!)it rained 27 ½ inches. Those are documented facts. Now for the bullshistory part, and I believe it to be true because I saw how hard it rained. “In the last 4 hours of the heavy rain, it rained 7 inches, and in one of those last hours it rained 4 inches.”

Robin Shelley Said: “What I remember about Dec. 1964 was that it snowed and; froze, then snowed some more until the snow was probably a foot or more deep on the Long Valley floor & then it rained. And rained & rained & rained in what seemed like Biblical proportions. People began to wonder if it would ever stop. I'm not sure who to "blame" for that.”

From Bob Doran. I'm not sure who made the quote: ”You still see markers along the Avenue of the Giants showing how high the water rose. It's hard to imagine the power of the river that filled the entire valley, but that's what it did, washing away towns like Weott, Myer's Flat, Pepperwood and Shively in the process."
There used to be quite a Village along the river at Phillipsville also.

Kym Kemp said: ”My opinion on the '64 flood (which I am old enough to remember but not old enough to remember much beforehand) is that the rain was astoundingly intense. There was snow first and then warm rain on top of it but some of the logging practices exacerbated the problems. We would have still had a terrible flood without the logging though.”
It sounds like Kym must have sipped on the newcomer cool aide with that logging thing, but she remembers the rain enough to know that we would have had a terrible flood.

From Olmanrivers research: "... in other words, the biggest mistake we made is when we went in (post '64)and cleared all the creeks. Thinking that we were enhancing the habitat, we ruined them, destroyed them. The fish need those waterfalls and those pockets. You don’t need to go there and make a freeway out of it. The water turns warm.
G: Following the flood we spent millions of dollars cleaning out all those tributaries, and they
just went in and destroyed them.

"With regards to timber harvesting he believes the Forest Service made some serious mistakes in
the past - bad practices such as clear cutting in known slide areas should not have been allowed.
He believes logging should not have been allowed in main drainages, and that there are other
values besides timber which need to be considered - wildlife and aesthetic values in particular.
“There is a right place and a wrong place to log - I always felt they came too close to the river in
the watershed.” He spoke about the fact that the Forest Service was not given a choice in these
matters; orders to harvest were mandated from Washington, and Forest Service employees who
objected were told to do their job or someone else would be found to replace them who would do
the job."

When I say that I witnessed whole virgin forests slip right into the rivers, or at least I saw were they had. People for some reason find it unbelievable. If you will bear with me while I give you a few thoughts, maybe, Just maybe, you will agree that the logging had little effect on the drama of the flood. If whole hillsides of virgin forests slipped into the river, doesn’t it make sense that all of the full size trees would do more to plug and stop the river with the resulting log jambs? There were numerous hillside of virgin, unmanaged forest, south of Leggett slip into the river. Where the South Fork of the Eel River leaves the 101 highway and heads south to Branscomb, all the land is wilderness area. Unlogged and unmanaged. There were many slides of timber into the river. You would not believe how many slides there were between Briceland and Redway.
All of the hillsides and forests had rivulets of water crashing down through the trees and brush. The fields had great sheets of water sliding off of them. The rain splashed on everything. Those of us out in the storm found it impossible to stay dry, even with raincoats on. The rain was warm, and being wet only caused a mild chill. We were able to continue with the evacuations of the low lying areas. I helped evacuate lower Redway and redwood grove down there. We had to quit when the water got over our axles. We all decided that we needed to get to where we wanted to be when the flood hit, because we knew that it was going to be a flood of major proportions. I lived in Garberville at the time and I went to my folks house on Oak Street in Garberville. My cousin and I went to Benbow and watched the trees in the park across the lake tumble into the river one after one. We were not prepared for the great crack of thunder that a five foot through redwood makes when it hit’s the water flatly. I sounded like a cannon shot, aimed at you. We went down to the river below Garberville and watched the water rising we tried to drive out toward Kimtu but the water was across the road just past the airport bridge. (It was called the Moody bridge then. After the town of Moody that it used to lead to) By then it was late, and we went home. The power was out and we had coal-oil lamps to eat dinner by.

The next morning, when we got up and went outside, the rain had let up a little. All you could hear was the roar of the river. Most of the town people were lined up along the top of the hill, overlooking the river. As high as the river was, it was a consensus among us that it was amazing the the river wasn't higher, having witnessed how hard it had rained. I can still remember the roar of the river, the loud popping, and crunching sounds that all of the debris was making. Most of the surface of the river was covered with driftwood, barrels, sheds, propane tanks, and just about anything that would float. We found out later that even the stuff that wouldn't float was washed down the river. P.G.&E lost a major electrical transformer that washed down the river. They placed a reward on it for whoever found it. It was never found. The most poinient thing about the flood that I remember, was the smell of crushed evergreen trees that it so reminicent of Christmas. It was heartbreaking.

We got along pretty well in the first few days after the flood then “Help” came. The “Civil Defence” set up an office, and took over emergency operations. After that everything was an emergency. The C.D. Headquarters was a good idea, and we needed some guidance. But, as with anything, give somebody some authority and they will make sure that they use it. They stopped all vehicle travel without a C.D. permit. They started to commandeer all of the four-wheel-drive vehicles, bulldozers, loaders, graders and road equipment. Back then, all of the ranchers and loggers had guns in their trucks, and they were already stressed from trying to save their ranch roads and livestock. They didn't take kindly to being told what they could or couldn't do by the Civil Defence.

One story that I will always remember, is the one where my boss and his neighbor, a log truck driver, took their shovels and chainsaws, and they opened a road from Phillipsville to the Dyerville-Loop road. They had a four wheel drive open Jeep, so they could go most places with it. The jeep had good traction and the windshield could fold down to go under things. They came into town to tell people that there was a road open between Garberville and Phillipsville, for any medical or food necessities. My boss checked with me and told me to find something to do until we could get the refrigeration shop back open. It didn't look like we would have much work until the power was restored. Then they headed back home, just as they were about to leave town the Civil Defence people told them that they were not going anywhere, and and that they were sorry, but they were going to have to take the Jeep for the rescue effort. My bosses friend reached between the front seats, pulled out a 30-30 rifle, cocked it, set the stock on his hip with the barrel in the air, and said. “You'd better move, we're going home”. That was one of the shortest conversations in the history of the flood.

My cousin Jim Newland and I signed up to work with the California Division of Highways. I signed up as and equipment operator. While I was waiting to be assigned a piece of equipment, they had Jim and I hand digging out a culvert. Our goal was to get it flowing again. It didn't take long for us to figure out that if we got it open, we were inside, and our reward would be getting washed into the river. We decided that we weren't quite used to working for stupid people, and we quit. By then, the Red Cross had asked us to start repairing or replacing appliances. They paid us a flat rate to fix things. Refrigerators were easy to fix. They came apart easy, and we reinsulated them, changed the thermostat, and the compressor start controls. Washers weren't so easy, we fixed them anyway, but they didn't last much longer than a year. It got the people that they were repaired for through the flood, and when the roads were open again they got new ones.

I don't know why I care, because I know that a lot of the logging was careless and sloppy. But, it really bothers me when the extent of the flood was blamed on logging. It doesn't bother me so much that the logging was condemned. But it really bothers me to not be able to explain how hard it rained, and that I know in my heart, that with that amount of rain, no time in history would the flood have been any better or any worse.

Click on the articles and photos for great enlargements.
The photos and clipping are from Robin Shelley, The Pepperwood newspaper is from Ross Sherburn.

This is and interesting link to the '64 Trinity Flood From Olmanriver.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Serendipity do-da!

This Blogsite has been one of the most rewarding things (to me) that I've ever done.

I just had a lady email me;

"Hi Ernie,

I came across your website and am enjoying it. I'm also a Mary Cull Lockhart descendant (Mary, Annie Lockhart Lovejoy, Hattie Lovejoy Clarke, Joe Clarke) from Covelo originally. Just wanted to say hello!

Kathy Clarke Smith, Ukiah"

We have been coresponding back and forth about Mary (Cull) Lockhart, and the Lovejoys. I haven't got around to asking her how she is related to Cecile Clarke of the Laytonville Clarkes and the founder of the Clarke Museum in Eureka.

Then I had a lady email me with this photo:
Great Great Gramma Jane (Taylor) Branscomb

"Hi Ernie,
I'm a volunteer at the Western Sonoma County Historical Society and we are working on a large project of
documenting all of our artifacts.
We have a photo of Jane Taylor Branscomb - and I found your website while trying to get some historical background
on her.
I thought you may like to have a copy -
Sally Morrison"

This is the first time in my life that I have seen this photo of Great Great Gramma Branscomb. I don't know much about her Sonoma County days. The photos that I have seen of her were from her later days after 10 children and running a general store in Branscomb Calif. Aparently she was much loved in the community and was known as Gramma Branscomb.

I had to laugh to myself, what it must have been like to move from relatively civilized Sonoma County, to Branscomb California. Just downstream from Mud Creek. I'd bet that those lace gloves didn't last long!

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Major Ervin A. Hadley

This comment was included in a post below about Richardson's Grove, somehow we have a tendency to get off-subject here on this blog. It's a fact that I actually encourage people to dive in with off-subject comments, because the comments bring up subjects are sometimes much more interesting:

Hans said...
"It's appropriate to also remember "Bunny" Hadley who gave his life piloting the Army Helicopers bringing relief to folks during the 64 flood. He'd be in his 80's now had he lived. Thanks Bunny for all you did and gave!"

Robin Shelley sent me this newspaper clipping of Major Ervin A. Hadley. She also sent me some dramatic photos of the '64 flood which will become another post. Olmanriver has emailed me a ton of stuff including interviews with Old-Timers, which pretty much bears out what I've been trying to say about how hard it rained before the '64 flood. I want to put this post up here and include some history later. please feel free to add any history about the many heroes who saved the stranded people of the north coast. I'm sure there are many stories I haven't heard yet. Click on these pictures and they will become full size and readable.

Does anyone know anything about this fellow?