Benbow, Fourth of July Celebration.

Benbow had it's annual Fourth of July celebration this year. Last year it was canceled because the whole north coast was on fire. This year was fabulous! The fireworks are so great in Benbow because we have crystal clear skys, and just enough of a breeze to carry the smoke away. We had almost a full moon coming over the mountain. many families had set up temporary camp-sites on the golf course. The state park had full park-facilities, and tickets with wrist bands were sold. The Rotary club sold hambergers and fun was had by all.


Most of the local fire departments were there. C.H.P. and the Humboldt Sheriff's departments were there in case of problems. There were some illegal fireworks fired off from the Benbow R.V. park. Which will normally stop the show. We saw where the fireworks came from, and it was reported, but thankfully the show went on. I can't began to grasp why someone would come to a fireworks show and shoot their own into the sky, but it seems to be quite common. Most of the fireworks injuries at a show are caused by illegal fireworks being fired, so that is why they stop the show if any are fired.



I was with the Redway Fire Department, stationed at the foot of Blue Rock Road. We had a few minor parking / access problems this year which I assume will be figured out before this show can get any bigger. The crowd was pleasant and happy. Children had a great time and the whole event had a great festival air about it.


Some of my photographer friends got some great shots of the event. I posted them below for your enjoyment. I understand that there is a real trick to photographing fireworks but Kim Sallaway and Pernel S.Thisledew seem to have mastered it.

Enjoy!


Top, Thisledew
Bottom two, Sallaway

Ernie's Travelogue.

I've been working on an old manuscript that I found, about a living history of a local person who's identity will be revealed later. I just want to try to do this one right.

The manuscript that I found was scanned by Microsoft to convert it into computer text. It is almost complete gibberish. It even turns the flyspecks into some kind of text. So, I've been correcting spelling, and most numbers have been coming up wrong, and it is two-hundred and fifty pages long. I will have to post it on my web-site, (branscombcenter.com) then make a link to it so it will be easily accessible.

Meanwhile, my wife convinced me that I've been working too hard this week, and we should go for a drive. I've cut a couple of cord of pepperwood, so it wasn't hard to convince me to take a break.

We went to Ukiah. We drove past her aunt Ida Middleton's old house. It was well kept and beautiful, so that seemed to please her. Then we looked at camp trailers that we can pull behind her G.T.O. I'm not big on trailers, so this was just to patronize her... Is there any such word as “matronize”? I wonder why not? This is such a sexist world... Anyway, we saw some real cute trailers that gave a whole new meaning to the term “pain in the rear”.

Then we went to look at roofing for the house, with no intention whatsoever to buy. People do that kind of thing to us all the time, so it was almost like getting even. It's like when a wait-person goes to dinner. They get out their stopwatches and score cards and grade the whole nights service, then leave a two cent tip if something is overlooked by the poor service person. It's a dog-eat-dog world. But, you don't have to be the biggest dog, just the Biggest bitch. Then you win.

Then we thought, what the hell, lets look at that new plastic deck board stuff. We saved a lot of money on that stuff. We didn't buy that either. From there we decided to look at T-Bar ceiling for the store. I think that they must have gotten wise to us, because they said that their T-Bar ceiling salesperson was only in the store on normal days. I didn't ask the person what a “Normal Day” was. I think that I was afraid of the answer.

We headed home, taking what ever highway and by-way that we could find. We turned east at the top of the hill in Willits, just across from the old tire shop. We went around the hill, and just like a miracle, a fire station appeared. They have a large training tower, and large tonnage concrete blocks to stack and play “Lets pretend that there is a person under this that needs to be rescued.” then they move the blocks, while trying not hurting to hurt the “Victim”. I secretly wondered how many rescue dummies that they had killed. Then the road came back out to 101 north of the Safeway Store.

The next road that we took was the next right turn to the east. I was looking for “Reynolds Road”, that goes along the east side of Little Lake Valley. We went past the rail yard. We saw a carnival and a rodeo. We kept jiggy-jogging east and north across the valley and saw many ranches, farms, and homes. We were impressed by how green everything is. We talked about Ben's trip around the Valley while the Camus Flowers were in bloom. We saw no flowers, other than in peoples yards. It's pretty late in the season for that. We came back onto 101 at the north end of the valley, and came on home.

We did the whole trip while never going over 65 MPH, but just as we came onto the freeway south of Benbow I had an insane urge to “Punch it”and pass a bunch of cars, my excuse was that there was a really cool ski boat in the slow lane a head of me. As I caught up to it, I was doing about 85. As I passed it I saw a C.H.P. whip onto the road from a blind-spot. All of his lights were already flashing. I didn't see him because my speed was hiding him behind the ski boat and he was out of sight from me. He whipped a u-turn and headed after someone in the southbound lanes. It occurred to me that he didn't see me behind the ski boat. Blind-spots work both ways!!!

I congratulated myself for being such a good person, and I knew that it was Karma paying off for me.

Home at last. Home at last. Thank God almighty, I'm home at Last

???... Huh?

What am I missing? Obama makes a major speach on Health care, and the stock market drops. Is it connected? I don't get it.

I wonder if the unemployment numbers cover the people that have just plain said "Too Hell with it."

I had hoped by now that I would see some "stimulus money" floating around. Do you have any in your pocket yet?

Markets,Updated: 5:16 pm ET, July 02
Dow-223.32(-2.63%)
Dow 8,280.74

Nasdag-49.20(-2.67%)
Nasdaq 1,796.52

S&p-26.91(-2.91%)
S&P 896.42

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

While looking for a grow room photo, I came across this one from news.humcounty.com. 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.

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

http://books.google.com/books?id=HZZaxx4lzj8C&pg=PA197&lpg=PA197&dq=american+indian+puberty+basket&source=bl&ots=HPqTIjqAoq&sig=wcadOSwVQ1rYbbnt74lH8rGJjDw&hl=en&ei=GZxBStXeDpGyswP57eHsBg&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=3

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
By LISA GUTIERREZ
The Kansas City Star

Behnam
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.

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.

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".


http://www.laytonville.org/harwoodpark.html


end

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.

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,

s"

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,

s"


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.

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.

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 -
Enjoy,
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!

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?

Thoughts of a Generational Native.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how long you have to live here before you are an Old-Timer. I don't know, but here is some of the ways I, and many native people think.

First, I consider myself to be an environmentalist of the first order. I love the trees, and the forests, and all the critters. But, I think of myself as being part of the environment. I believe that; "There is some of the same fitness in a man's building his own house that there is in a bird's building its own nest. … Henry David Thoreau said that. I also believe that I should put back, replace, or make something better for what I took to build my house.

Being one that lives my beliefs, my wife and I built our own house. We didn't built it it the sense that we ran around with a clipboard and a blueprint doing a lot of pointing and directing. We built in the sense that we cut every board and drove every nail. We wired, plumbed and painted it. Janis (my wife) nailed off the whole roofing by herself. I guess that she thinks a lot like me. We have an abundance wild plants and critters around our house, and they seem to thrive. That is one of the most enjoyable things about living here where we live.

What some people may not know, but they will realize that it is true, if they give it a small amount of thought, is that we have more biomass (trees, brush, grass) right now than we have had in recent history. The Indians and Mother Nature used to burn any group of trees standing close enough together to support a fire. The routine fire stripping of the weak and diseased trees and plants was a very healthy method of cleaning the forest. I have to smile a little just thinking about an Indian person trying to take out a modern day burn permit. “Yes ma'am, we only want a permit for a small burn. We only intend to burn from here to the coast.”

In the fall of the year lightning strikes would start numerous fires. There was no attempt to put them out. The fires burned until it rained, or they ran out of fuel. Ray Raphael made reference in his book “Two People, one Place” to the early Spanish explorers being afraid to come ashore, because of all of the fires on land. They said that it looked like “Hell” at night with fires everywhere.

The Indian People were very mobile, and they would outflank or outrun a fire. The new shoots that sprang up after a fire were eaten as food or weaved into baskets. The Indian people thought of fire as part of the Earths renewal. Many legends were told about fire. The legend of the Phoenix Bird becoming old and burning up, then rising, young and renewed out of the ashes, is nothing more than a story about the cleansing nature of fire, and the renewal that happens from it's ashes.

The Indian people honored what they took from nature. When they killed a deer for food, they had a ceremony to honor the deer before they ate it. They gave no thoughts of becoming vegetarians. But, they realized that they had taken something from nature, and they knew that the fires that they started caused the sprouts to grow that the deer ate. That was their way of giving back for what they took. Their fires killed the bugs that ate their acorns. Their fires open up the forest floor and made for healthy trees. Any diseased tree would burn. Trees with healthy bark, and ones that were not crowded, would survive. It's no wonder that they had legends like “The Phoenix”.

The ground on which we stand on the North Coast, is some of the most dynamic land in the world. The Earth keeps heaving and pushing the land up from the old sea floor, and our winter storms form our canyons by eroding and washing away the dirt and rock back into the sea. If you simply open your mind and think about it, you can feel the process happening. I really mean that. I know that I'm not the only one that feels the connectedness to our “Place”. I see it in Kym Kemp's Photography, I know that she feels the North Coast in her very being. One of my good friends, Diana Totton, expressed it better than anyone that I've ever heard. At her Citizen of the Year party, she was taking about what it meant to her to be here on the north coast. One of the things that separates her from many others, is that fact that she knew the feeling of standing on the top of Kings Peak after it had grown 16 inches taller in one of the many earthquakes that happen here. She mentioned her visceral feelings, to be part of, and standing on top of one of fastest growing mountains in the world. I knew that she felt that connectedness that many others miss. The shore line at Petrolia lifted out of the ocean about four feet in that same earthquake.

In our own lifetimes we have seen many changes to the North Coast. The ground at the entrance of the Eel river has raised through the years to the point that ships can no longer travel up th Eel River like they did back in the 1800's. Some day we may have an earthquake strong enough to lift the seashore, or drop the riverbed. We could end up with a new bay. Many Indian legends talk about Humboldt Bay when It was a field of grass. One of the legends say “When the sky rumbles move to low ground. When the ground rumbles move to the high mountains”. So they knew to get away from the lightning, and they knew about Earthquakes and Tidal Waves.
I remember when the Redwood trees were planted in the field south of Scotia. I remember when the young forest of trees where planted at the Mendocino county line, where Rastafarians camp during Reggae weekend. Many, many trees have been planted on the north coast, which is only right and fitting. Loss should always be replaced.

Getting rid of Maxam was a good thing. Selective cutting and sustained yield logging is the only environmentally acceptable method of harvesting trees to build our houses. You can double the production of a redwood forest by clear-cutting it. But clear-cutting is not good for the other plants and critters. We need to pay attention to that. If everybody has to play by the same rules it makes it fair. I have to include China and Canada in those rules of Fair-play. They should be as environmentally sound as we require our lumbermen to be, or we shouldn't allow their products into our country. Period!

I think that a railroad could be built to environmentally safe standards. Those slides that everybody has seen pictures of, were there before the railroad came. They were there while the railroad was here, and they are now busily reclaiming what the land thinks is it's own. If a railroad is built, they should realize that those slides have been sliding since the beginning of time, and they will have to go over, under or around them, because they are not going to stop them. Slides are a natural process of the Eel River system. That's where the Canyons come from. Erosion happens, and it is not caused by roads, logging or ranching, it only makes them more noticeable.

Anything that is taken from the land should be given back. It's only fair.

That's a few of my thoughts, I have more, but I'll stop here for a while. Maybe you have some thoughts yourself. Did you know some of the stuff that I mentioned? Do you agree or disagree?

Jeff Muskrat Beards the Lion in his Den.

I found this "slap" in the Richardson's grove post below.

Jeff Muskrat said...
"Ernie,Stop beating a dead horse to death. We all know how Redwoods produce. The trouble is, it takes thousands of years for trees to get that big."

There you go again Jeff, Just so you will know, the TWO redwoods that they are taking out of the park are one 6" and one 7" tree. Just to be as ridiculous on the other side, but that is a truthful statement!

Yes Jeff, some redwoods can get to be thousands of years old. I'm sure that you know that some genetic stock is tens of thousands of years old. Not many people know that, so you have a real advantage in your immense knowledge of the growth cycle of a redwood. Some trees, as they age, develop heart and top rot. The rot happens at time of drought, or some kind of growth stress. Sometimes great floods cause these stresses by causing root suffocation. The trees at Jordan creek along the freeway a few miles south of Stafford show signs of this process. (the cause of the top rot has not been studied) If a fire comes through, which used to happen on a regular basis. Those types of trees would be burned and destroyed to become fertilizer for the young root sprouts that would pop up all around the old root stock. The burned tree would then become several more trees of the same genetic stock. The healthy trees around the burned out trees take on a new and healthy spurt of growth. Every hundreds to thousands of years this process repeats itself. The same genetic stock spreads and becomes a small forest of the same tree. People have done much to damage the life-cycle of the redwoods by saving them from fire and other natural regenerative processes. Basically we are loving them into unnatural life cycles.
Your sensationalism about the trees in the grove is too much for me to ignore. First, anyone can tell by visiting Kym Kemp's blogsite, and looking at her photography that she is a true native daughter of the Eel River canyon. Her love of this place is obvious to anyone that visits her blog. Please click on this link: Redheaded Blackbelt. To think that you have a better opinion of what should happen on the north coast above hers is ludicrous. You talk about trees being a thousand years old, and carry on about their eminent death. When in actuality there will be about 87 trees removed. All of them considerably younger than the highway itself. And all less than 24 inches in dia. The trees are in an area spread out over approximately one mile. They are NOT widening the road. They are taking out a few small banks of dirt and brush and realigning the road to make it LEGAL for trucks to go through it with out being hindered. There will be a six inch, and a seven inch redwood removed in the park. I wouldn't think that would be enough to call out Paul Revere to make another ride hollering “The corporations are coming”.
MOST of the cost of the project is increased by the fact that Caltrans is making certain, to a ridiculous degree, that not one tree is even affected. They know that if one tree dies for any reason, certain die-hard radicals would shake their finger at it until Hell freezes over. The fact-of-the-mater is, very few old-growth redwood roots are even going to be cut.
Jeff, I've visited your blogsite and I find it rife with destructive radicalism of the kind that I could never approve of. I will post it here and hope that people go to it, and read it carefully. To go to Jeff Muskrats blog, click here: Save Richardson's Grove and make your own determinations.
Jeff aligns himself with people like Julia Butterfly Hill. Jeff, I know Julia butterfly, believe me you are no Julia Butterfly. She is a dedicated environmentalist. She backed down Charles Hurwitz, and Maxxam corporation. She stayed in her tree-sit through storms, drenching rain, 90+ MPH winds, and helicopter blades. She backed down the most destructive element to the North Coast redwoods. Hurwitz is gone! Now, if we can just start to rebuild, on a sustained yield basis, we can have another minor lumber products industry.
Other people that Jeff aligns himself with is “Earth First”. Sorry Jeff, you lost me there! They are just not responsible people. But, Jeff adopts their tactics. This is his contingency plan when he loses; “I cannot see this project going through, and if it does, we will put a stop to it through non-violent resistance.”
One important reason that I would take Kym's opinion over Jeff Muskrat is that the whole right side of his blog is dedicated to informing you how you can send money to him, to support his great battle against the people that are going to ruin Richardson's Grove for no reason.
Jeff, The REASON is to make the least environmentally destructive route in the north coast LEGAL for truck traffic. No other method is better. Not the bypass, not leaving it the way it is. Chances are the Richardson's Grove trees will be healthier on completion of this project. Because, believe me, nobody wants to screw up on this one!

Human Nature

My Grandmother Ruby said, "the trouble with riding a high horse is that it is such a long way to the ground". Unfortunately, I just don't think that I look good riding those little Humble Ponies around. I start to feel the need to be way up there looking down on the rest of the world. Humble be darned! When I’m right, I’m right!

I start to become annoyed with people that are not quite as smart as me, or as aware of their surroundings, or what’s going on. In my mind, it's those people that are most near me; to the point that I wonder how such stupid people even feed themselves. They make mistakes, they get in my way, they interrupt me when I talk, they park in my space, make my coffee wrong, scare the crap out of me by screaming in the park, and just become generally annoying.

I do my best to give them instructions on how to become better people. I leave notes, and signs on how to not use my loading dock, how to not park in my spot, and other instructions, but they still do things just to annoy me. I’ve even noticed that when I try to back out of my parking space that people will stop just were I want to go, and look at me expectantly, like they are waiting for me to do something. I have to get out of my truck walk over to them, remind myself no matter how annoying that these people are becoming, I just have to be polite, because human beings are supposed to be nice to one another. I say something nice, like; “Pardon me sir, but if you are waiting for me, I was intending to back out right here where you are, so if you are not parked there, it is okay to go ahead and drive on”. They will say something like; “Oh, okay, I just didn’t want to run into you”. I say something like; “Thanks” Then I get back in my truck and start to back out again, and then see that somebody else is behind me, waiting to see what I'm going to do.

I started backing my truck into my parking spot, so I could just pull out. To back in, I have to pull across the road, then back into my spot. I use my flashers so everybody knows that I’m attempting to do something dangerous, then I put my truck into reverse so the back-up lights come on. That gives people around me a clear indication that I intend to back up. I check all of my mirrors and start to back in, invariably I will find someone parked behind me, politely waiting to see what I intend to do, so they don’t run into me... Out of the truck… Be polite… “Pardon me sir…

These same people are out there on the roads all the time, I often wonder how they get from “point A”, to “point B” without killing themselves. I often fantasize about them being parked under a ten-ton rock careening off a bluff, with them politely parked under it, waiting to see what it’s going to do. I'm caused to wonder; am I the only one that is just inherently evil, or do other people also notice how annoying people are becoming, and secretly hope for them to come to a fitting and appropriate end?

We have a new employee that is is a wonderful person, doing a great job. We are very happy to have her. She is willing and accommodating. She started making the coffee in the mornings. Being the jerk that I am, I started to tease her about being a woman that would still make the office coffee. Making the coffee has become a male job traditionally, because women “don't make, or pack coffee” nowadays. It's now considered demeaning to make coffee or do windows. I don't fully understand it because I'm, not only a jerk, I am also a sexist. So, I've noticed that there is a difference between men and women. She made coffee the other morning and she forgot to put the water in the hopper. She was embarrassed, but she shared it with us, and we all got a good laugh at her expense. Shortly after that she filled the hopper with water and put the coffee grounds in with no filter. She also shared that with us. We teased her about her lumpy coffee. Then she made coffee with no grounds, and we teased her. I told her that she should keep trying and not give up because I was rather enjoying the fact that someone was willing to make the coffee besides me. I was beginning to feel sorry for her though, and thought maybe I should take my old job back. I was beginning to feel a little evil, knowing that I was, really, the only one that knew how to make coffee correctly.

People have become so annoying to me lately that when I'm out driving, I notice that people speed up and slow down just to get in my way. I've even considered signaling a left turn when I actually intend to turn right, just to fool people into staying out of my way. I figured that if they saw my left turn signal on they would move over there to get in my way, and I could just smoothly turn to the right. Genius!

The other morning I came to work about 7:00 a.m. There was only about two cars in town. I signaled for a right turn onto Church street, and sure enough, the car in front of me pulls right onto church street in front of me. I smile a little to myself, because there are parking spots all over, and surely this guy won't be in my way. Imagine my rage when I see this guy cruise right into MY parking spot. Where I pay the rent! I pulled up, and impolitely said: “There must be a thousand parking spots in Garberville this morning, why did you have to park right in MY work area.?” He politely said: “I'll be just a minute.” and went about his business. I started to seethe, and think about how many times I had to politely wait, while someone parked sideways, right across, and totally blocking, three available parking spots. I started to explain to him how unfair it was for me to have to wait for my parking spot, but bit my tongue and shut-up after two or three unintelligible words. He said, “What?” I sensed that my greatly detailed explanation wasn't going to go well, and said angrily “Go ahead and take your minute, I'll just wait”. Well that pissed him off, and he got in his car and sped off. I thought, “good, I should be more firm about my parking spot.”

Later that week, I came back to the shop in the middle of the afternoon and found someone parked in my spot. I did notice that the car was parked correctly, and very neatly. I pulled up behind the car and started my thousand times a day routine of asking all of the neighboring businesses if they knew who's car it was, and how long they were going to be there, because that is the only place that I can park my truck and tools so I can work in the shop. I got as far as the flower shop and “Nope”, they didn't know who's car it was. The Benevolent Society of Park Providers tore up the local parking lot to turn it into Paradise, now everybody has been parking in my spot. I decided that I would have to be very firm about MY spot or it was going to get taken over by the Church Street customers. I asked the lady at the flower shop to tell whoever was driving the car that “I would be just a minute”, and left my truck in the middle of the street behind them. I had to chuckle at my wit and one-up-manship.

As I was working, I kept looking out to see if anyone had come back. I didn't notice anyone for quite a while then I looked harder and saw someone politely waiting for me to return. Feeling a little sheepish about leaving someone setting there, I tempered the go-off that I had planned. The womans polite demeanor disarmed me to a certain extent, but I decided that I had to explain “the rules” anyway. So I shook my finger at the faded worn out “No Parking” sign and explained about how this was the only place that I could park my truck. I expected the usual combativeness about “not being able to see that sign”, or they were only going to be “just a minute”. But the young lady only politely apologized and left. I went back inside feeling like a jerk, but justifying to myself that I had to be firm.

Just as I was congratulating myself for fitting my “High Horse” so well, and how things were getting much better, now that I was getting everyone trained. For some strange reason things started to go wrong. I went in and made some coffee. I forgot to put the pot under the drip-dropper thingee, and coffee, coffee grounds, and water went all over the kitchen counter, into all the drawers and across the floor. I decided that I had better clean it up before anyone noticed. As I turned around, part of our crew was standing there. They were greatly enjoying my humility. With great big grins they said in unison, like in a Hughie, Dewie, and Lewie cartoon, “We're gonna tell!”.

I noticed that the people that like to scream in the park aren't nearly as friendly to me as they used to be, before I accused them of participating in “Hippy Bullshit” by screaming and scaring into me into running to save them. I just wrote it off as sour grapes, but I get that strange niggley little feeling that they think that I crossed out of bounds.

Then the real kicker came to me. The one that pointed out that maybe I was sitting a little too high on my High Horse. It came when I found out that the young lady that I chased out of my parking spot, was none other than Suzy Blah Blah. Talk about feeling like a total jerk.

I had decided a long time ago that I would never bust anyone that posted on my blog anonymously, I haven't yet, and I never will. So, the most that I can tell you about miss Suzy Blah Blah is that she is just exactly as you have pictured her in your mind.

So.... Now for the good part. I've decided that I don't want to be mean anymore. Not that I don't LIKE being mean, it's just that I've noticed that life has a way of beating on people that are mean to others.

So, if you see me riding around on my “Humble Pony”, you will know why. I'm going to take down all of my nasty, mean spirited signs. Okay, I have to leave a few up, like the one warning people not to engage in any body functions on the loading dock. But, I'm going to stop posting the pictures from the closed circuit TV camera on the lunchroom monitor. And I'm going to have to keep the “No Parking” signs up, but I'm going to change them to say “Special Parking Only”, and say: “Except for Suzy Blah Blah, who may park here anytime”.

My most humble apologies Suzy...

Ummmm... Does anyone really think I should be forgiven? I'm not Catholic, or I would just slip the Pope some coin. I guess if I going to be a humanist I'm going to have to start being more human. Payback's a bitch!

New sign on loading dock.

Richardson's Grove Issue Revisited.

I have wanted to chime in on the Richardsons Grove issue since I saw Kym posting about it, but have been otherwise occupied, as busy people are often known to be.

This issue is the same age old dilemma. It is similar to the question, “Would you kill a man to save thousands”. Many people would not, nor would they be able to, but they would suffer greatly as thousands died. Their consciences would be clear, because they were really not involved. That would be very little satisfaction to my way of thinking.

People want to “Save the Grove” because they have an emotional attachment to Redwood trees. If they really thought about it. Straightening the Grove would stop the thought of doing a bypass, which I can assure you would kill millions of trees. The east side of the river, where the road was originally planned, also has very unstable soil. You could look that fact up if you would take the time. It would take years to stabilize the soil, after much erosion.

Trucks already refuse to take loads to California because of our confusing rules. Many cities ban trucks, and many roads are not legal to take over length trucks. If you were a truck driver and hired on to take a load from Chicago to Eureka, and you wanted to see the Redwoods. You would take highway 101 north from San Francisco. You would get as far as Laytonville before you would see a sign that tells you that your over-length truck would have to turn around in approximately 30miles. Some trucks chance it and try to sneak through, because they have a commitment and a responsibility to deliver. Unfortunately most of the over-length trucks get caught by our more-than-adequate C.H.P. They then have to pay a fine and hire a special short-coupled truck to haul their trailer back south. No wonder a lot of truckers simply refuse California job loads.

In the near future trucks will all have to meet new standards. Most of the old beater trucks, that we have now, will be outlawed and abandoned. Most trucks won’t be able to come into the north coast. Think about it, if you were to purchase a new truck to haul freight, wouldn’t you buy one that could give you the most bang-for-the-buck. You would buy the truck that would be able to haul the most payload.

Back to redwood trees, my family goes back to 1857 in logging redwood trees, and making redwood lumber. I’ve learned a great deal about redwood from my family and my own experience. Dave Kirby is a very wise man for a newcomer. Somewhere along the way he educated himself. The knowledge is out there to those who will pay attention.

Two things will kill redwood trees, wet roots from the change of a creek-bed, or anything that will cause a swampy condition. And, root suffocation from dirt or gravel being placed over them. I have never seen a redwood tree be killed by cutting through the roots on a small portion of one side, as long as at least ¾ of the roots stayed unaffected. I challenge you to show me one that has.

Talk to some of the old families that settled in the south Ferndale Valley and find out how many years it took to kill the old redwood stumps. It is almost impossible to kill a redwood.

The reason the cost of the straightening project is so high is because the engineers are spending most of the time and money trying to deal with uneducated peoples emotions rather that the real project.

My suggestion would be to see how much that could be got from the project in other forms. As I’ve said, I’m very little concerned about the trees being damaged. It isn’t going to happen. What I think, is that a person should get something for the privilege of them fixing the road. Get thousands of new trees planted, in a like area, or some research done on why the trees died at Jordan creek. Would you read it if they did?

Like Kym Kemp, I am sincerely sorry if I sound evil, I don’t mean to be, but from a knowledgeable standpoint it sounds a lot like there is gobs of emotion about what is happening at the Grove and not enough reality. Get real! Get something good for the environment. Don’t try to force the project over budget. Don’t force the State to take ridiculous precautions. Get mitigation, like a person truly trying to benefit the environment. You only have to make a small sacrafice, and you can have most anything that you ask for.

When they straighten it anyway, you are going to kick yourself for not getting something good out of it. I would!

Redway Fire Dept. Barbeque.

What a perfect way to support a Fire Department. You get about three times your money's worth, plus you get a freshly prepared meal. Refreshments and desserts will be served. A band will be entertaining us.

You can take your whole family, including you cousins, aunts and uncles for a reasonable price, and you can be a Hero twice. Once when you take your family out to dinner and again by supporting the Fire Department!


Click on poster for a ridiculously large scale version.

Early Saw Mills.

This is a photo of Sutter's Mill, a sawmill where gold was discovered while building a ditch to carry water to it, thus starting the California Gold Rush. Please click on any of the pictures for a larger view.
Photo from Wikipedia.

From California State parks website:
"James W. Marshall discovered gold in 1848 on the South Fork of the American River in the valley the Nisenan Indians knew as Cullumah. This event led to the greatest mass movement of people in the Western Hemisphere and was the spark that ignited the spectacular growth of the West during the ensuing decades. The gold discovery site, located in the still visible tailrace of Sutter's sawmill, in present day Coloma California, is one of the most significant historic sites in the nation".

Ben tells me that a tribe of local Indians found the source of the rich Gold Sands and became very rich.

As with most of the old California mills, I can find very little information on what type of a headrig saw that they ran, but later illustrations of the Sutter Mill show that it had a frame saw headrig.

Photo: Humboldt State University collection.

Note the sixteen foot "Misery Whip Saw" across the front of the stump. The handles have been removed for unknown reasons.

Photo from Internet.

Hand powered "Whip Saw mill" or Pit Mill. This was back in the day before hard-hats. I couldn't help but notice that the wedge in the end of the log was right over the lower sawyers head. The Old-Timers must have gotten a lot of headaches.

Photo,By Unknown.

The above is a "Frame Saw", used in various sizes and configurations. Basically the frame is used to stretch the saw tightly, and hold it it place. A common Hack Saw is a good example of a frame saw.

Photo from Internet.

Illustration of a Muley Saw, where only the saw moved up and down instead of the whole framework. The design required a much thicker and deeper saw blade to be able to support itself without flexing. It was moved up and down through the log just like a piston on a connecting rod and crankshaft.

Sawmills in history:

One thing that California has in great abundance, and in great size, is trees. California has some of the largest trees in the world. The early settlers sawed their lumber with a "Misery Whip Rip Saw", or they used a much lighter grade of saw installed in a framework, called a “Frame saw”. The lumber was hand sawn over a pit or up on a crib assembly. One man stood above the log and another stood below the log. The saw was pulled up and down, by handles top and bottom. They sawed the full length of the log, then the saw was then moved back to the other end, and another board was sawn off the log. The slabs that were cut off the log were laid flat on the crib and they were sawn to the desired width. The lumber was of poor quality because the sizing was not that accurate or consistent. Before being used it had to be matched and trimmed for the best use. The lumber was then ready to use. Usually the size lumber that was needed was already predetermined by what they were building.

Later on, when material and location allowed, they built mechanized mills that had very large framesaws that were moved up and down. The mills were powered by water wheels, either under-shot or over-shot wheels, depending on the drop and flow of their water source. The log was moved through the saw with a carriage assembly, much like a railcar, they would clamp the log over the side of the carriage and saw off one slab of wood at a time. The boards were then edged to a usable size board.

The Muley Saw was almost unique to the west coast. The timber was much larger on the coast, and very large moving frameworks were needed to move the saws through the large logs. Steel and machinery was hard to come by on the coast because most of the steel mills were back east, and any machinery was at a premium to have delivered. The large frame saws were very cumbersome, and the Old-Timers soon figured out that if they used a large, thick saw blade, without any tension framework that was needed to move the sawblade tensioned in the frame, that they could cut lumber much much faster and truer.

In a conversation with Ben, we were discussing the scarcity of steel on the west coast, and we talked about how they would take the steel off of sailing ships abandoned in the San Francisco Bay. The ships were abandoned when they lost their crews to the Gold Fields. Many Sailors jumped ship in San Francisco to go make their fortune. The hulls of the abandoned ships were stripped clean of any metals, and the hulls were used as Barrooms and brothels among other things. Most of that steel ended up as picks and shovels in the gold fields, but some of it was used to build saw mills, to make lumber for the growing city of San Francisco. My own 2G Grandfather Ben Lockhart jumped ship in San Francisco to marry his Sweetheart from New York, and find their fortune in the Gold fields. All that they found was disease. They soon abondoned the Gold for their health, and made their way to Branscomb.

The Muley saw wasted a lot of timber because of the wide sawcut that it made. The saw kerf was up to 1/2 inch wide. Timber was in abundance, and machinery wasn't. So the "Muley Saw Mill" was the most popular on the west coast. Most of the west coast mills were powered by over-shot water wheels, again because metal machinery was a premium item on the coast. The Muley blade was about 1/4" to 3/8" thick and about a foot front to back. I've never found how tall it was, but it must have been fairley tall to cut throught the large diameter logs that they found on the coast.

Some of the more modern early mills used a triple saw combination of circular saws. Where a board was cut off the top of the log, and removed. The saw was inset far enought into the top of the log to clear the arbor nut of the two lower blades. I often wondered why they called it a triple saw, because it actually had four saw blades. One to cut down throught the top of the log, a sideways saw set 90 degrees from the top cut, to remove the top board. Then the two lower saws that cut the slab off the bottom of the log. It cut the top board and the bottom slab all in one pass of the carriage.

From some historical writings dug up by Oldmanriver: "Messrs. Simpson & White built the next saw-mill in the valley, which is located about six miles west of Cahto, in Jackson valley, This is driven by water-power, and the saw is a "muley." Its capacity is two thousand feet daily, and it is estimated that it has cut one and three-fourths million feet all told."

Most historians know that Messrs. Simpson and White were some of the first people to settle in Cahto Valley, and were the first to built a mechanized lumber mill.

They chose Jackson Valley, because the valley was surrounded large Redwood Trees. It was easier to build the mill next to the trees, rather than take the trees to the mill like we do today. (That is, if there were any mills left.)

The Muley Sawn lumber became very popular on the west coast because it was the smothest and most accurately sawn lumber. It was much preferred over hand sawn lumber which was the crudest lumber. People didn't like the circular sawn lumber because of the large circular tooth marks on the boards, that were hard to plane out. Efficiency eventually took over, and the band saw mill became the most popular high efficiency, and production, mill.

Bandsaw mills didn't become popular until the 1880's. They still use bandsaws, and they still use a form of the frame saw with multiple blades installed in it, they call it a gang saw.

The heroes of the old saw mills were the saw filers. They were the ones that figured out how to keep the saws sharp and cutting true. Some of my family are saw filers. They tell me stories about what the modern mills can do that just boggles the mind. A lot of lumber nowadays is made up of composite pieces, flakes, chips and oriented strands. Wow!