Charles B.

Hopkins, Autobiography
Introduction 3

The Early Years 4

"Go West, young man, Go West!" 6
The Train Trip West 9
Arcata, California 11

Coming of Age 15
Learning How to Work 15
I Lean to Love Music 15
A Lesson Learned 16
My Faithful Companion 17
Driving the Hogs 17
More Ducks 18
More About Work 19
A Lesson In Friendship 20
My First Vacation 21
A Merry, Merry Christmas 22

Ukiah 1891-1907 24
My Career Develops 24
Other Adventures on the Ukiah Line 26
I Meet Mama 28
More Responsibilities 29
A Serious Accident 31
Excursion Trips Through The Summer 32
A Most Critical Period 35

A New Business 38
More Music 38
I Try My Hand At Carpentry 39

My Family 41
A Happy Time 42
Building the White House 42
Mama Leaves Us 43

Today 45
My Financial Affairs 45
Memberships 46
 3

Introduction
December 1946 I am writing this story of my life as a direct request of my youngest son,
Lucyn Cleveland Hopkins, who has been away from Ukiah since 1942, and has been working in the
service of the U.S. Government, his home is now in Washington, D.C.
I was born December 19th, 1865, in the town of Ltnn, in the County of Osage, State of
Mtssouri, at the time our Country was emergtng from that awful struggle, The Civil War (1861-1865).
I do not remember how I recetved my ftrst given name, tf there was a member of our ancestors by
that name I never heard tt mentioned. I was named Blodgett, my mtddle name, after Colonel
Blodgett, 48th Regiment, Mtssouri Infantry Volunteers. My father was Captain of Company F and
was tnttmately acquainted wtth Colonel Blodgett.
From my earltest recollections, I was always a home-loving outdoor youngster. I was seldom
sick unttl we came to Caltfornta, when I was subject to colds a lot. I could always hold my own from
an athletic standpotnt, with most boys of my age round about our neighborhood. I was fond of
ftshtng, hunting, swtmmtng, and camp life. I was a pretty good shot wtth a rifle, but none too good
with a shotgun on the wing.
My schooling was very limtted. I left grammar school in my early teens. In 1904, I took a
course in archttectural drawtng and destgn from the I. C. Schools when I ftrst went tnto carpentry.
The mathemattcal part of which was a wonderful help to me tn later years. At the ttme I was taking
the course, I was worktng hard every day at the carpenter work, and dotng all my studying and
drawtng at night whtch was bad on my eyes. As a result I had to stop most of the ntght work and
eventually the course was neglected.
I was always fond of music and trted to team on several tnstruments, but finding time to
practtce kept me from accompltshtng much. My great destre as a young man, was to create
something that I could see after the work was completed. The ratlroad work came nearer to thts
tdeal than any other work I had ever followed. I was never forward or aggresstve tn company, a good
ltstener and always trted to see both sides tf there was any argument. I have had the responstbtltty of
overseeing and dtrecting the work of other men, and always found it the best poltcy to be
gentlemanly and courteous to those under me.
In seeking employment and accepttng a new job, tt was my policy to know the hours of work
and the pay I was to receive. If I dtd not ltke the set up tt was my right and I used tt, to qutt and seek
other employment without bringing others into the controversy.
The ltves of people is pretty much what they make tt themselves. We cannot live the life of
someone else Our Creator is our gutde, tf we follow His laws and commandments and walk tn the
footsteps of His son, Jesus Chrtst, we can't go very far wrong.
I have no apology to make for my poor grammar and punctuatton tn this message. I only
hope and trust you may make out and understand what 1 have endeavored to convey tn the pages
followtng.
I was a member of a class tn Sunday School, both in Methodist and Presbyterian Churches
in Arcata for several years, but dtd not unite with either church. As I look back over my life now, I
shall always regret that I did not gtve more of my time and love to my two boys tn play and recreation
whtle they were ltttle. God knows I have trted to set a good example before them tn our home.
In 1939, I accepted Jesus Chrtst as my Lord and Master, and was bapttzed and joined the
First Baptist Church of Uktah, Sunday momtng, March 24th, 1940. I have been an acttve member tn
Sunday School and Church, am a member of the Board of Deacons and sing in the chotr and play
my tnstrument in Sunday School and evening Church Servtce when I am well enough. "God gtve me
strength and intelligence to walk circumspectly before Htm now and henceforth.'
With Deepest love for my children, Cha rles Blodgett ttopitias
The Early Years
My father, George W. Hopktns, was born June 18th, 9827, in Hampshtre County, near
Portsmouth, England. At the age of seven he came to America with hts family, and after a short stay
in New York Ctty, the family migrated west to what ts now the site of Zanesvtlle, Ohio.
After several years stay there, the Hopkins famtly pulled up Makes and, in company with
another family, turned thetr faces toward the west. These famtlies each had a wagon and team of
horses aptece. Grandfather Hopktns' famtly conststed of htmself, hts wife, two sons and one
daughter. After a perilous trip over a sparsely settled country, through a practical forest, wtth roads
hub deep In mud and underbrush often requiring both teams to draw one wagon, they arrived in the
eastern part of Mtssourt, St. Louts County. Betng desirous of reaching a sectton less populated and
where farmtng land was easier to get, they pressed on westward through Franklin and Gasconade
Counttes. In Osage County, after crossing the Gasconade River, not far from the County Seat of
Osage, the small town of Ltnn, they reached their journey's end.
Here the two famtlies separated. Grandfather Hopkins made a deal for a small ptece of land
that had a small log cabtn on tt and a small cleartng. This home was located about 100 mtles west of
St. Louts and about 30 miles East of Jefferson City, and ten mites from the Mtssouri Pacific Railroad.
The community in thts area was called, 'Richland*. This little settlement was located 20 miles from a
post office. Here the new life of thts the Hopkins family began in earnest tn America. It was here
thts famtly experienced joys, hardshtps and heartaches.
Durtng the next few years, my father and hts younger brother (George W. and Davtd) were
occupied wtth grubbtng and cleartng the land around the cabtn to raise the necessary food for the
family. Thetr father was never very nagged tn health, so the two boys were called upon to supply the
famtly wtth what meat they could ktll and brtng home. My father hunted for the larger game and his
brother, Davtd, the smaller. In thts way they managed somehow.
My father, George W. Hopkins, and my mother, Elizabeth Francts Dtllon, were marrted In
Unn, Mtssourt, on November 18th, 1854. Jane P. Dtllon (sister) and Louis Dorn wttnessed the
ceremony. There were stx children born to thts union, four boys and two gtrls. Our father set up a
law practice tn Unn, having been commissioned to practice law in any court tn the U.S.A. It was in
this ltttle and humble home that all my brothers and ststers were born, my btrthplace also.
I was born on December 29th, 1885. It was pretty hard to recall my first recollections of life.
The scenes of my early childhood are quite vtvtd, but to begtn wtth the ftrst that I remember is
difficult There was a cellar under our house that had stone steps leadtng down to it. I was told
some time later that I was found beneath the thtrd step from the bottom?
This home was a very happy one early in my life, though when t look back now, I can
understand the many heartaches and sorrows that were experienced by others of the famtly. We dtd
not have the many thtngs that combtne to make a Happy Home. I can only draw you a picture of the
condttions that existed in that part of the country at the close of the terrible struggle between the
North and the South, the privations that not only our family, but every famtly experienced. Want,
unrest, and knowtng who was and who was not your Mend.
Our home was at the south end of the main street in the town of Unn. On the south side of
our home ran a creek that I have fished many times. There was a spring of the most clear and cold
water that came from the bottom of the hill just across the creek from where we lived. It was about a
half a mile from our home, down a long sloptng htll. Many of our netghbors went there to wash thetr
clothes, as there was no city water and wells were few and far between. We had a cistern near the
back part of our home that we filled as much as possible during the wtnter with water that came from
ratn and snow. When the ctstern went dry, we had to carry the water from the spring down by the
creek.
On the north side of our house there was a small valley with several small farms. The htlls in
our part of Mtssouri are small compared to what we Caltfornians thtnk of as hills or mountatns. The
town of Linn is sttuated on tope of one of these little hills where It comes to an end. Were the two
valleys come together, there is wonderful fanning land. Thts part of the country was at feast 75%
virgin forest, including black walnuts, shell bark hickory nuts, butternuts, hazelnuts or filberts,
chtnchiptns, a kind of acorn and what we called black haws. Them were many kinds of berries,
including sarvts and mulberries. It ts no wonder that there were gray and fox squirrels and many
other small wild antmals.
Our home was not a pretentious one, but it was comfortable. The ortginal part was brick,
probably 18 X 24 feet, one story. Later a wood addition was added, making a fairly good stzed three-
room house. There was a porch that ran nearly the full length of the house on the south side and
about 10 feet wide. On one end of this porch was the kttchen, about 12 It long. There was a
wonderful garden spot just south of the house where we ratsed everythtng almost that ts grown tn
gardens. We also had a small collection of table grapevtnes, a variety of peaches, apples, plums,
cherrtes and berrtes. We had a small house nearby used for storage purposes, a log barn, two
stories, and a lean-to. I thtnk there were four acres of land that surround the house. I have been told
that there was not much left on the place that would burn, except the house and barn, that Price's
Army did not destroy when he made hts famous raid through Mtssouri and our town in the fall of
1864. My stster, Comma, and brother, Carl, dted very early in life and were buried not very far from
our house. After we came to Caltfornia, father and mother had their bodtes exhumed and moved to
the community cemetery in Ltnn.
I have a vague idea of the old County Courthouse that originally sat rtght in the mtddle of the
street we ltved on, tn a public square. This buildtng was taken down and a new one erected on
another lot. There were no churches tn (inn when we lived them. Church was held in this old
courthouse, t can remember gotng to church wtth mother and nearly always falling asleep.
Our house was about a mtle from the school. The schoolhouse tn Ltnn was a one-room
building with a small entry hall in front, where we left our hats and extra clothes. There were two
doom, one on either end, of thts halt There was a wide passageway that led up to the teachers
desk. On etther side, the students' desks were arranged at right angles. An ex-large stove wtth a
circular drum above to radiate more heat was situated in the schoolroom, between the hall doors. A
fence, enclosing a lot of about 200-ft. square surrounded the buildtng. At the two lower corners of
the lot were the outhouses.
My early school days were happy days. I remember how happy I would be when I could
learn something new. Some things were pretty hard for me to grasp. I got into trouble somettmes
and the teacher scolded often enough, but seldom used a swttch. I recall once i got into trouble and
the teacher was going to paddle me. My older brother stepped in and said he would have to lick htm
first, and so saved my bottom.
There were two boys about my age, and brothers, who were always picking on me. Two
against one was more than I could handle, so my brother planned that we would meet them on thetr
way from school and he would see that l got fair play. We met them as planned and one of the boys
and I had a scrap, whtch brought the feud to a close. My brother Walter and I were very chummy.
He was a ltttle older than i and always took my part when I got into trouble.
My ftrst teachers name was Peter Stratton. He was a wiry ltttle fellow, round-faced and held
his face a little to one side. I can't say what his qualtficattons were as a teacher; I was too young to
know. He had fair control of the students. He would generally have a spelltng match once a week
on Friday afternoon. As I was too young to take part tn the spelling, I would listen to the others.
The school always had their dostng exerctses and the Christmas entertatnment at the same
time. People of the town and country nearby took part. tt was at one of these entertainments that I
heard the poem, 1 was the Ntght Before Christmas." This was about 1875. It was also at one of
6 -

these parttes that I memortzed and recited a little piece, my ftrst in public.
Our Christmas holidays in Ltnn were always whtte. I can't recall any games at school, if any.
guess there was always plenty of work at home to keep the youngsters minds busy. If I got tnto
trouble, my brother, Walter, always came to my rescue. Hts last schooltng was in this schoolhouse,
and he was only 14 years old. He never had a chance to go to school after he went to California.
was quite young, around seven or eight years old when one of our neighbors who had two
mother hogs with litters of 10 - 12 ptglets between them, promised me one of the ptgs when they
were old enough to leave thetr mother. I was too anxtous to have the piglet, so one day I caught one
of them and its ts needless to say that ptg began to squeal and the mothers at once came to its
assistance. If it had not been for my screams and the qutck arrival of a netghbor, I would not be here
now to tell thts tale. I was badly used up, there ts one scar on my upper lip and another 3 tnches
below my heart, over an tnch tn diameter, that testify to the mother tnsttnct of the hogs!
I used to go with my brother Walter many times hunttng. I would retrieve game even if it
was shot in the ponds and even if the water was waist deep or more.
I was ten years old when a schoolmate of mtne tnvited me to go and stay all night wtth htm.
Hts home was tn the country. Hts older brother told htm that he would take us on an Opossum hunt
that night, as tt was a full moon. Youngsters in those days exchanged vtsits often. About 8:00 PM
that evening we started, two small boys and a man wtth a pack of dogs. The ntght was bright and tn
no ttme was told the dogs had a possum up a tree. Believe me, there was a scramble through the
underbrush to see who would be the first to get to the tree where the dogs were mtlltng around, trytng
to get up the tree to the possum. The tree was rather small and us two kids grabbed it and began to
shake it wtth all our mtght. We looked up just in ttme to see the possum fall, rtght tnto my face!
Down I went with the possum and dogs on top of me. There was a scramble for a second, but I got
out without a scratch.
The people of the town sponsored the ftrst 4th of July I remember. It was held tn a beauttful
ltttle valley near town. There were many masstve trees tn full foliage and the ground was covered
wtth a mat of thick grass. There were several concessions, selling one thing and another, but I
noticed particularly one that was managed by a man I knew was stck all the ttme and walked stooped
over. He was selling oranges, lemonade, candy and ctgars. Every few mtnutes he would call out,
'Ice cold lemonade, made in the shade, stirred with a spade, and sold by an old maid." I also
remember a wild mulberry tree there in the grove, filled wtth ripe berrtes. I cltmbed up tn the tree to
get those lusctous berries.
Later in the fall there was a tree called the Sands Tree that bore a large red berry, much like
the Btng cherry. After the first frost came, the leaves of this tree would turn a brtght golden color and
the frutt would be right to eat. These trees could be seen at qutte a dtstance and us boys would
stand on a htll and look across to the oppostte htllstde and spot one of these trees. Then there would
be a wtld scramble to see who could get there ftrst. The fruit was best after the ftrst frost.
In the early days there was a custom among the farmers to help each other with the fall and
wtnter chores such as getttng wood, husking corn, etc. One December day I went with my father and
mother to a wood chopping. There was a huge ptle of wood in the barnyard and the men went to
work on it. In no ttme at all they had reduced it to ntce stove and ftreplace wood. This part of the
program was always followed by a wonder feast and wound up with a genutne hoe-down and barn
dance that would run tnto the wee hours of the night. On this special wood chopping day I took the
big dog and small ax and went for a rabbit hunt, for I was too small to cut wood. We, the dog and I,
prowled around in the snow, whtch was 5 or 6 inches deep, but found no rabbtts. We returned tn
ttme for the wonderful supper prepared by the women. After that came the dance, the ftreplaces
piled high wtth dry wood that snapped and popped tn the crtsp night air. The sound of the vtoltn soon
called the merry crowd to thetr feet and the fun began. I was too small to dance, but I enjoyed
looktng on until I fell asleep. The next I know we were on our way home. It was cold and frosty and
it was all I could do to keep from falling down, I was so sleepy and cold.

"Go West, young man, Go West!"

My mother had a brother, John Randolph Dillon, who went to California in 1873 or 1874 and
found the country much to his liking. He was quite anxtous to have others of the famtly come West,
so he came back to Mtssouri on a visit and told folks of hts expertences and the wonders of
Californta. He told of the big trees, the mtntng and gold that was to be found most everywhere. He
described the climate as ideal and work, plentiful. He told of wild life, deer, bear and elk abounding,
with good hunting and fishtng any ttme of the year. All these stories seemed fantasttc, but he
insisted he was not exaggerattng and could prove all he said.
 7

I heard my father and mother talking of movtng to Texas. I believe now that our family
would have gone to Texas if tt had not been for this visit from Uncle John. It was not long after that
the talk was all Caltfornia and the dte was cast. Somettme during 1875 my father, sister, Julia, and
brother, Hal, left the old home for Arcata, California, where my father set up a law practice. Hal
found plenty of work and Julta got a job as a house matd tn the home of her future husband.
My mother had a sister tn Arcata who had moved wtth her famtly the same ttme as Uncle
John. Thts made the tdea of re-settling a ltttle easter. In the month of February, 1877, my mother,
brother Walter and myself left the old home for Caltfornia. These last expertences occurred not long
before we left Mtssouri. I was eleven years old.
My first attempt at swtmming came during the summer of 1876, at 11 years of age. A short
distance below our town, three small creeks came together and formed a good stzed stream. There
were many fine swimmtng holes along thts stream, and as well, good ftshtng. There was always a
fine gravel bottom tn all these holes and late in the summer the water was crystal clear even if the
water was ten feet deep. Our favortte hole was about 40 feet long and maybe 20 ft. wide. The water
was over my head. One day, a number of boys my age and I went swimming tn this place. As usual
I played in the water where I could stand wtthout gotng under. I was very anxtous to learn how to
swtm, and dectded to make an effort thts day. But I could not make the effort tn front of all these
boys....After we had dressed and started home, I let on that I had forgotten somethtng and went
back, determined to swtm the length of the hole. I dtd just that and several ttmes more, and left the
hole for the last ttme, thoroughly convtnced I was not afraid to go swimming tn deep water.
One time, after Father, Hal and Stster had gone to Caltfornta, mother went to visit a netghbor
and was gone all day. I had been havtng a toothache ant that day tt developed tnto the 'jumptng'
ktnd. I was all alone and did not know what to do. It was a most terrible day! Some sheep got tnto
yard and I got up to run them out, and between the sheep and the toothache I almost went to pieces.
Walter was drivtng a team and passed by the house qutte often, but he dtdn't know what to do for
me. Mother came home late, tt was dark and a storm was brewing. As soon as Walter got home,
Mother had htm take me to the country doctor (not a dentist) and have the troublesome tooth pulled.
We got home before the storm broke and the ache was gone!!
I went wtth Mother to vtstt some frtends nearby my Grandfathers home, near Richfountain
(Richland). We stayed all ntght. I was put tnto a bed made of feathers, with a feather comforter on
top. I don't belteve I ever had such a ntght in my fife. I was buried tn feathers and almost melted
from the heat.
We also went to vtsit a stster of my father's, Aunt Ann Wtlltams, on a small farm not far from
the Gasconade Rtver. Aunt Ann had five children Frank, Mercy', Mary 2 , George and Altce 3 . Frank"
was the oldest and Mary was very nearly my age. It must have been late in the fall, for the corn had
not yet been harvested and immense pumpkins nearly covered the ground. Aunt Ann's husband,
Silas Wtlltams, had been dead for some ttme and she had htred a man, Henry Kearley, to do work for
her around the farm. Thts young man seemed a little demented and tricky. On this particular day,
he promised to take Frank and I ftshing tn the small creek below the corn fteld. We were anxtous to
go and started on the trtp wtth great expectations.
After climbing the fence past the cornfield, Henry told us we would have to follow a tratl that
went up and over a steep and dtfficult bank to climb. In order to make it, we would have to make a
run for tt. Well, we made the run all right and got to the top without much trouble, but before starting
on, we stepped directly tnto a yellowjack nest. Before we could turn around, we were covered. As

Mercy married and lived in Joplin, Missouri.

2 Mary married and lived in or near Kansas City for a long time, then moved to Yakima, Washington, where she now lives
and has a 20 acre apple orchard. She once visited a son who lives in San Fernando Valley, California. While there she
visited with Aunt Julia, which was the first and only time I met her.
3 Alice married limy Kearley, the "demented and tricky young man" in the yellow jacket story.
4 Frank was killed in a street car accident in Kansas City many years ago.
 8

soon as Henry saw his scheme had worked, he ltt out to get away from us and succeeded. We
finally crawled home where Mother and Aunt Ann stripped our clothes off, treated our swollen bodies
and put us to bed. There was not a patch btgger than your hand that was not stung by those pesky
Yellow Jackets. My eyes were almost swollen shut and my arms and legs were double tn stze. I
didn't get over my expertence for two weeks and ever stnce have been leery of yellowjackets. I don't
remember how Cousin Frank made out, but I am sure he was as bad off as I. I never did hear what
Aunt Ann dtd to Henry.
Sometime between 1875 and 1877, when I was ten or eleven, a terrible tragedy occurred.
My father, sister and older brother had been tn Caltfornia for some time. Mother, brother Walter and
myself were still living in the old home. The new Ltnn courthouse that I had mentioned previously,
was completed and part of it was occupied. The basement, composed of numerous moms, 16 or 18
feet square, was not occupied. The rooms were located on either side of a long hall that extended
east and west, the full length of the buildtng. As I recall, the ceilings were about 10 feet htgh, the
walls were plastered, patnted and ntcely finished.
There was a famtly of four, composed of a father, mother, one boy and one girl. The girl was cripple
and used one crutch. They came to our home and were anxious to secure moms. I don't know at
the arrangement with Mother was, but they were occupytng one room at the ttme of the disturbance.
All they had were a few grtps and satchels, etc.
The man, I can't recall his name now, was rather and elderly gentleman, probably 60 years old, qutte
good looking and I thtnk was a lawyer. He dressed well and made a fairly good appearance. The
woman was tn her late 40's, good looking and dressed rather attracttvely. The girl, the oldest of the
two chtldren, was about 16-18 years old. They called her Addie. The boy was my age, sort of a
rough youngster, full of mischief, and was hard to manage. Hts name was Steve Jefferies.
It turned out that the man with this group was not the husband or the father at all. The real husband
and father was a Mr. Jefferies, though he was not the father of the gtrl. The woman had marrted the
man she was now ltvtng with and the gtrl was his daughter. After some time, the couple had
separated. The woman had then married Mr. Jefferies and had her son. Later on, they separated. I
never knew if the woman had a divorce from either man, all that we never found out was that the
family that had come to our house was trytng to keep out of the way of Jeffertes. They had come to
our ltttle town thinking it would be a refuge for them.
Unfortunately, Jefferies was hot on their tratl. Only a few days had passed when he appeared on the
scene, carrying a rather small hand satchel. Shortly after arrivtng in Linn, he came dtrectly to our
house. The elderly man had gone into town or was away when he arrtved, however he made a
terrible racket. The woman and girl screamed and cried and finally Jefferies left the house and
headed for town. The next we heard of htm he had gone to several places tn town and ftnally found
the older man in a harness shop across from the courthouse. There were some words between the
two men, the older man ran out the front door of the shop and up a sltght incline past the corner of
the courthouse and possibly 60-70 ft. From out of the harness shop came the younger man,
Jeffertes, wtth a btg ptstol. He laid the pistol across hts left forearm, took careful and deliberate atm
and shot the old man in the back of his head, close to the top. The wound did not prove to be fatal at
once, but the man had fallen and was unconscious. Wtlltng hands soon came and carried him into
the southeast corner room of the basement of the courthouse. A cot was procured from somewhere
and bedclothes and a pillow were brought from our house to make the old man as comfortable as
possible for the time being.
I remember going into thts room before the old gentleman passed away. There was not a thtng in
the room but the couch and the body laying on tt. The white patnted walls and cetltngs of that
cheerless, cold room with its victim of a tragedy just enacted not long before lytng there before me,
brought cold chills all over me. I had expected to ftnd some other people there when I went in and
had made several steps before I realized I was there staring at a man that had been shot and was
near death, perhaps close to the very moment life was gotng out. I seemed frozen to the floor for a
moment, then realizing where I was, I turned qutckly and hurried away, chtlls running up and down
my back.
The old man died tn that cheerless mom. His body lay there until he was buried a day or so later.
The woman, girl and boy left our house soon after. Whether they left town or moved somewhere
else, I don't know. I never seen them again.
Jefferies was put tn prison and after due process of law, was convicted of murder and sent to the
state prtson at Jefferson City, Missouri. I never saw this man, Jefferies, and don't remember how
long he was in prison, as we left Linn for California a year or so later. I don't remember ever hearing
this tragedy discussed in our family, though that corner room in the courthouse is vivid in my mind
today.
It is not very many years ago that the customs of death, funerals and burials were very much
different than at thts pertod. Many years before I left Ltnn, I recall when a member of the family
passed away. The undertaker would come and take care of the body and prepare it for burtal and
leave tt tn the home until the day of the funeral. In the intertm, members of the family, relatives and
friends, would take turns, parttcularly at night, sitttng up wtth the corpse, somettmes performtng ltttle
duttes such as moistening the face of the corpse wtth a preparation the undertaker had left for the
purpose Usually there would be 2 or 3 people to take the night watch and there would always be
lunch for these people to eat durtng the ntght, coffee, etc. to keep them awake. Somettmes one
person would volunteer to stt up when others were not avatlable.

The Train Trip West

The packtng and getting ready to go was an expertence never to be forgotten. I can see now
the wagon packed wtth our belongtngs, the home, the surrounding country, the many friends of my
youth and the little town we were leaving behind forever. Every turn of the road brought new scenes
and dtscoveries. Being so young, I did not feel the enormity of the changes that were taking place in
our lives. We came down qutte a hill before we got to the depot, and there before us was the
majesttc Mtssouri Rtver, flowtng slowly and stlently on it way to the mighty Mtssissippi. Looking far
out across the river, we could see the great sycamore and cottonwoods through the misty haze of the
great valley. I did realtze that the time it took to travel to the tratn depot was all too short, for soon
we were there and our baggage was put on the platform. We did not have long to waft for the train.
A long shrtll whistle was music to our ears. Looktng up the track I saw the ftrst locomotive I have
ever seen coming around a rocky bluff. A long tratn of cars followed it.
The train we boarded at Bonnet's Mtll was what was called tn those days, an `Emtgrant
Train? The train was composed of regular passenger, baggage and matl cars, and some gondolas.
The accommodattons were very poor, but the fare was much less than the express tratns. Everyone
came aboard prepared to make thetr own beds, meals, etc.
We hurried to get aboard the first cars and had to pass through several before we came to
one for white people. The others we passed through were filled with Negroes on thetr way west to
grow up with the Country. They were dressed tn all the colors of the ratnbow and looked like
milltonaires.
As soon as we found a car wtth vacant seats, we located ourselves and prepared our seats
as comfortably as posstble. I planted myself at the wtndow, for I wanted to see all there was to see.
I don't remember when the train passed over the Osage River a few miles east of Jefferson City.
The depot there was small and inconspicuous and we did not stop for long. I don't recall seeing
anything of the city.
West of Jefferson City was rather flat country, with rolling hills, more or less timbered. There
were many sheep grazing near the railroad tracks. The first station I heard the brakeman call out
was, little California", and immediately I asked Mother is we were there already.
Ntght came too soon for me. Everyone was prepartng to have thetr supper and getttng ready
for bed. The seats had to be turned two together and boards latd between them. Then what beddtng
we had was spread out and made as comfortable as posstble. I did not sleep at all that first night,
with the rumbling of the train and the cramped position I had to lte. Every once tn a whtle I'd raise up
to look out the window, but it was too dark to see anything. The next night, I asked Mother to let me
sleep under the seat so I could straighten out my legs. This she consented to and I slept fine from
 10

then on, wtth the exception of once tn awhile when the clicktng of the wheels passtng over a joint
would awaken me. This was, however, music to my ears.
The next thtng I remember was crosstng a very high bridge over the Kansas River, either at
Kansas Ctty or Topeka. A wagon and horses below on a sand bar looked ltke pigmies. The depot
here was covered by a long and tall building, wtth many tracks and tratns all around. From thts depot
we could see what they told us was Council Bluffs. The country after leaving Kansas Ctty was open
and quite flat and covered wtth pratrie dogs.
Some men on the tratn went out on the gondolas and shot at them, but it seemed the little
fellows would duck before the bullet would htt the ltttle mounds they were sitttng on. These men had
pistols strapped on their belts and carrted high-power rifles. Most of them wore long, twisted
mustaches and gave the impression of betng outlaws or deperadoes.
The farther west we traveled, the more Indtans we saw. They would be dressed in blankets
and looking for someone to toss a loaf of bread out the wtndow. He would grab it up and tuck it
beneath his blanket, ready for another one.
Leaving Omaha, Nebraska, we could see the Rocky Mountatns in the dtstance and thought
we mtght reach them in an hour or so. But hours later we seemed no closer and when night came
they were still far away. The next we saw of them tn the morntng was just great piles of rocks and
mountains. We dtd not see any buffalo altve, but dtd see many stuffed heads at various stopptng
places.
We came to a small station, I think it was Cheyenne, late at night. The moon was quite
brtght, there was lots of snow and they had cleared the tracks by ptltng snow on etther side tn qutte a
high bank. The cut paths through the bank so people could cross the tracks as there seemed to be
saloons and bustness houses on both stdes of the tracks. Walter and I moseyed around some as the
train stopped in the station for qutte a while. We went into some of these places and saw much
gambltng going on many different tables, and various kinds of games. The men were all rough-
looking and had guns strapped to their belts.
We passed through Ogden and Salt Lake City at ntght, so dtd not get to see them. When we
got to the Humboldt Rtver we could see many fishermen wtth strings of trout or salmon they had
pulled from the beauttful, clear and raptd stream. Devtl's Sltde stood out very prominently. It Is
composed of two ledges of rock protrudtng out of the steep htllside, parallel to each other, maktng a
veritable slide. The lower of whtch comes down close to the river on the oppostte side of the ratlroad
track. We didn't get to see any of the snowsheds, havtng passed through the htgh mountains late at
ntght and dropping the west side of the Sierras, we were soon tn California on our way to
Sacramento.
The first thing I remember in California was the high water of the Sacramento Rtver. The
whole rtver seemed to spread over everywhere just as far as the eye could see. The water was up to
a few feet from the floor of the depot.
I don't recall which way we traveled from Sacramento to Oakland, as everything seemed to
be under water. There were so many thtngs to see that I could not concentrate on anything deftntte.
We stayed several days at the Atlanttc Hotel on Kearney Street in San Francisco, waiting for the
steamer up the coast to Eureka. This was the first big city I had ever been in and from morntng to
night I was out on the street trying to see all I could. There was a brass band, wtth many
instruments, enclosed in a glass case probably 8 ft. square. This caught my attentton more than
anything I had ever seen or heard.
At last the little tub streamer was scheduled to go to Eureka. We were taken aboard and
asstgned to a stuffy state room below the matn deck. After some hustle and bustle we got on our
way. I can't say what my first reactton mtght have been had I seen the ocean. I dtd not leave the
state room until we landed in Eureka, we were all deathly stck from the bobbing of the cork-ltke tub. I
didn't care much whether the boat went down or not and everythtng that even looked like food would
almost tum me instde out. On leavtng the boat, the stdewalk seemed to come up and hit me in the
face and I could barely walk for a day or so wtthout stumbltng.
 11

Arcata, California
We soon moved on to Arcata, just up the Pactfic Coast. We were very happy to meet wtth
our loved ones once more. For some time after we arrtved, I stayed with my Aunt Jane Carey
(mothers sister). Father had not prepared a place for us to ltve or could not ftnd one, so we had to
make the best of the situatton. I helped Auntie and her gtrls wtth the washing they took in to make a
ltvtng. Uncle John Carey was a blacksmtth, but dtd not work much on account of booze.
I was soon started in school and got along fairly well, though getting acquatnted with the new
envtronment, teacher and puptls was dtfficult as I had never been a good mtxer. I think our
economtc situation had somethtng to do wtth my drawback on getting a foothold on myself.
However, I made fairly good marks in school for a new beginner in a new school. My second
teacher, my first tn Califomia, was an old matd by the name of Miss Quick. Everybody, young and
old, far and near, in thts community had gone to school to Miss Qutck. Some liked her and some dtd
not. I dtdn't not stay tn her room very long, and was promoted to a htgher grade in the same
building.
The new teacher was my third, and his name was Jtm Ellts. I don't remember much about
his, only that he was not very sociable with his students and we did not hang around htm much. He
like to show his authority. I was tn his class about one year, then was sent up to the htgher grade
school where there were three grades or classes, A, B, and C. Thts much have been tn the fall term
of 1878 or 79.
It took Father some ttme to pull himself together and help us live the way we should, but the
ttme dtd come when things turned out in our favor, By 1878, we were ltving in a little shack just
across the street and south of where the Arcata Htgh School now stands. Our famtly was anythtng
but a happy one. Our father was almost continually under the influence of the Demon Alcohol. My
oldest brother, Henry Clay Hopktns (Hal), under the same tnfluence, had left home to seek hts
fortune among strangers. He ltved in Shasta County for many years, worktng as a miner. My other
brother, Walt, three years my senior and my lifelong chum, rematned home and found work where
ever he could. Hts education was limtted and in consequence he earned what money he got the hard
way. As I look back now, I thtnk the conditions at home caused him to seek associates that were
none too good for his future welfare.
It was at this time that our home life was near the breaktng point. I can see my sainted
mother now sttttng there, her hands folded tn her lap, the tears streamtng down her cheeks, almost
ready to gtve up. She drew me to her side, and asked me to promise her I would never bring shame
and disgrace to our famtly by the use of alcohol. On bended knees, my head buried in her lap, I
made the promise and I am sure God has helped me to keep that promise.
My next teacher was Mr. Willtam Henry Harrtson Heckman. He was a man of wonderful
understanding of youngsters of my age and older. At recess and at the noon hour, we would all,
boys and gtrls, would rather hang around and ltsten to htm tell stories and relate his experiences than
go out to the playground. He was a crack shot wtth a shotgun on the wing, shooting either quail or
ducks. He would tell us that tt was unsportsman-like to shoot game of any kind wtthout gtvtng it a
chance to get away. We would come back at him wtth, "A fat chance a quail or duck would have
getttng away from you tf tt was flytng. He would laugh all over and smile. Every Monday after he
-

had been on a hunt that Saturday, he would have some thrilling story to tell about his sport that
weekend. Mr. Heckman hunted wtth Mr. Ellis, but Mr. Ellts was no hunter nor sportsman. He could
not hit the broad side of a barn and never had any stortes to tell.
Mr. Heckman had more control and decorum tn the schoolroom than any other teacher I ever
had. I believe I would have learned somethtng if I could have gone to school to him a few years
longer. There was never any trouble, I never saw htm puntsh anyone. We knew he meant every
word he satd and therefore everyone loved and respected him. Mr. Heckman was a big man, not fat,
but well built, always jolly and in a good humor. He was elected County Clerk of Humbert County in
1880 or '82, I'm not sure whtch tt was, and we lost our best teacher.
He was succeeded by a man by the name of Mr. J. B. Casterlin. Mr. Casterlin was a rather
small man, wiry and a pretty good teacher. He was alittle impulsive and would lose his temper
 12

occastonally and was not as soctable as Mr. Heckman. He stayed only a year and was succeeded by
the notortous Mr. Claybom. From the very day he entered the schoolroom there was a feud started
that increased as the days went by. If a puptl was backward, as there were several, he would be
sarcastic and make sltghting remarks tnstead of helptng the student. He would say unkind and
cutttng remarks to them durtng recitattons pertods. No one liked him and I often wondered how he
held his job. I went to school to him a year or so and I guess my parents dectded that I was not
learning much. I was allowed to quit and go to work when I could find tt.
Towards the end of my schooltng, in 1882, an inctdent occurred that I often think about. Mr.
Claybom was my last teacher, and none of the students ltked him. He was always in some ktnd of a
scrap with someone. To torment him as much as we could, one cold winter morning we were all
huddled about the btg stove when someone dropped a piece of Asafetida 5 on the stove, which made
an awful stench. If a bomb had dropped, the crowd of youngsters could not have scattered any
quicker. The teacher ran to the lab, got some alcohol and poured it on the stove. In a few mtnutes
the stench cleared. Mr. Claybom paced the room several times, the stopped facing all of us (we
were all seated by then). 1 have a notion to take my coat off and wallop the last one of your, at
whtch all the students starttng laughtng. The teacher was so mad he could not speak for a mtnute or
so, but kept pulltng on his 2-inch long mustache. Ftnally he dectded to drop the matter for the ttme
being and went back to hts desk and called the first class.
When Mr. Claybom would come out on the porch to ring the bell for 1 o'clock, the boys
would start on a game of chase called, 'Follow the Leader? The girls would go up the street to and
platform and stt down ttll the boys would come back. Then the whole group would straggle into
school one after the other, sometimes taktng 5 or 10 minutes for all to get seated These were happy
days even tf we were wtllful and naughty kids.
Another day, a chum of mtne and I cut school on a Friday afternoon to go fishing off the
wharf. Claybom lived in Eureka and always went home on Friday afternoons. Lo and behold, a car
drove up to meet the boat and there sat Mr. Clayborn tn the front seat looktng dtrectly at us. We
pretended to be pulling ftsh out until the car passed. Next Monday morntng he called us up to his
desk immedtately after school was called and asked us why we were absent on Friday. We told htm
we had permtssion from our parents to go fishing. He came back at us with a scowl, saying, "Yes, I
saw you and it is well you had permtssion or I would settle with you.'
Not long after that the most exctttng incident of all occurred. Johnny Woods, a wiry little
fellow, and one that would fight a buzz saw, got into trouble. Claybom was gotng to trim htm, but
when Clayborn got up and started for Johnny, he turned and started for the back of the school room
wtth Claybom after htm and round they went. There was a wtndow half open and when Johnny came
round to it he cut out ltke a sparrow and around the buildtng to the front where Claybom met htm,
Johnny took to the street. It was raining and there were puddles tn the street and down that wet
street they went. Johnny taktng the mtddle of the puddles ltke a jack rabbit and Claybom comtng in
second. It is needless to say Johnny left Claybom so far behtnd that he gave up the chase and came
back, mud from head to foot. Such is the life in a country school!
Durtng the last two years of my school days, I had a few close friends. Among them were
my two coustns, Mattie and Davts Dtllon, who I had known (though not Intimately) for years; George
Richards; Harry Jackson; Emtly and Minnie Galinger, Charlie Stouder; Jesste and Mtllie Armstrong;
and thetr mother, Aunt Inez. She was always like a mother to me right up to the last time I saw her in
1924.
The one friend that stands out more clearly than the others is Harry W. Jackson. He was a
`A" grader, excepttonally bright, a good sport, soctable and had a good head on hts shoulders. Our
ftrst close association came about like this: It was a damp, ratny day in December. At moming
recess, most of the boys had gotten into a game of throwing mud. It was a dirty ktnd of play and the
teacher called in all those who were involved in the mudslinging, myself tncluded, and gave us a
moral as well as humiliating lecture. We were gtven the penalty of two weeks conftnement, at
recess, in a lot about 40 1x100 1 near the rear of the butlding. We were not long tn adjusttng ourselves

5 Everyone was carrying some of this medicine to keep from taking some kind of disease.
 13

and chose Harry as the Captain of the Mud Brigade. Thts incident linked our ltves together in such a
way, that there was a mutual understandtng between the two of us for year to come.
After I left school I often wtshed I mtght plan some way that I could go to college. In those
days the opportuntties to work your way through college were slim. If you dtd not have the means to
pay the major part of the expenses tt was just too bad for you. My parents were not financtally able
to help me much. After a man is past 21 years of age, there are few that can go through college
wtthout some help from relatives or friends unless there have been some provtston previously made
for that purpose.
I remember I was home at Arcata and not yet 18 years old, when I volunteered to stt up with
a corpse of a very old man. The home was out of town and not near any other place and the family
had gone to another home for the night. I got on fatrly well, got pretty lonely, but stuck it out for the
night. I was not exactly scared, but just the same would have ltked it better if someone else had
been wtth me. This old man's names was Mr. Ellsworth. A year or so after this experience, I
volunteered to stt up with the corpse of a man I had known for a long time. Hts name was Mr. H. C.
Cleverly, a jeweler, of Arcata. A few months before he had lost his wife and baby through immature
chtldbirth and had grteved to death on that account. I was alone that ntght, but dtd not mind tt much
as I felt I was dotng him a personal favor. Everyone in town was grieved to lose such an esttmable
family.
Somettme around 1882 or 1883, my father quit drtnking and straightened up. He became a
member of the Presbytertan Church tn Arcata, butlt up his law practice pretty well and was elected
Justice-of-the-Peace in Arcata Township for several years. He built a modest home for his family on
West H Street, Arcata, and was well-thought of all over Humboldt County. Unfortunately, the demon
alcohol left its mark. He dted February, 13, 1898, wtth cancer of the stomach. I was by his bedstde
when he passed away.
Hal married while he was tn Shasta County, and had four chtldren, two boys ' and two girls.
(

Thts brother came with hts family to Uktah tn the eady part of 1900. Hal went into the grocery
business with me, but ltved only a short time when he died October 3rd, 1900.
Walter followed locomottve engineertng from about 1885 unttl he passed away in San
Francisco, August 3rd, 1919. Wtth the exception of a few years in Alaska, he ran a locomottve on
the Arcata & Mad River Railroad, the Eureka & Eel River Ratlroad, tn Humboldt County, the S.F. &
N.P.R. Ray Tiburon to Uktah, the S.P. Co. in the yard tn Oakland, San Louis Obtspo, and last in the
yard at 16th Street in San Francisco, where he was working when he died.

6 The oldest boy died in Redding and was buried in Ukiah, February 22, 1906.
 14

Coming of Age
Learning How to Work
My first paid job' was as second cook in a hotel at $15.00 per month, tncluding board and a
place to sleep. This job lasted three months. My next job was better, chopping wood along the right
of way for a small locomotive. Thts job did not last long but paved the way for a better one firing the
little engtne s. My brother, Walter, was the engineer and gave me many pointers about the work, so I
managed quite well and was happy to be wtth htm. 9 Thts job was only temporary, in the meanwhile,
around 1884, I was offered a job as an apprentice carpenter wtth a contractor by the name of Dean.
The pay was to be $2.50 per day the first year, $3.50 per day the second year and $4.00 the third
year. Mr. Dean gave Instructtons to the old carpenters to show me how to do the work and use and
sharpen the tools when I was put on a new job. I stayed with this job for over three years when times
got pretty quiet and not much work dotng.
Sometime around 1882, when my father built our home tn Arcata, I helped the carpenter,
Charles Dantels, with a lot of the work and liked it. My first job is Mr. Dean was on the higher grade
school building in Arcata. I think it was the ftrst school buildtng Arcata had built for htgher grades. I
worked on several business houses and numerous dwellings In and around Arcata. I also worked on
the saw mill building and dam. The lumber for this job was all hand-hewn from vtrgin timber and put
together by draw-boring and wooden natls. I worked on the Elk River one summer tn a mill helping
the millwright.

I Learn to Love Music

I was approachtng that time in life when self-accountabiltty was beginntng to show itself.
Myself and a group of young boys my age formed a brass band. I learned quite fast and my father
was very happy to see me playing the horn. We played together for several years until one by one
they all dropped out and the band dtssolved.
Charles S. Daniels was a furntture dealer, upholsterer and undertaker tn Arcata, and quite a
good coronet player. He played tn this original band and was now playing hts horn in the Methodtst
Church, of which he was a member. Charlte was a jolly fine fellow, middle aged, and well thought of.
I was 20 years old then, when Charlie selected about 15 young boys about my age and several
others somewhat older, fatrly good musictans, and fanned the Arcata Brass Sand.
After moving to Californta from Missouri, I had been subject to more or less colds and sore
throats. My parents consulted a doctor as to my ability to blow a horn and if my lungs were strong

This was in 1882.

8 I think this job was in 1885. How happy I was to be on the little engine working for pay and at the same time playing
with this little toy! Well I recall getting up at 4:00 AM and hurrying to the roundhouse to build a fire in this little toy so
that it could sputter around all day long lice a Bantam rooster.
9 0n one particular day after we had coupled 7 or 8 cars of lumber to take down to the end of the long wharf we notices
that a stranger had jumped onto one of the cars. Walt told hint we could not take passengers and he would have to go
back to the depot, The fellow was surly and did not want to get off, but finally did. We made ow trip, dropped off the
lumber and headed back into town pushing some empty cars ahead of us. We were off the trestle and well up towards
the switch when Walt discovered a steel rail laying across the track at a 45• angle. Walt stopped the train in time to
avoid hitting the rail and I got off and dragged the rail off the track. As soon as we had disposed of the empty cars, we
went back to the depot and made a report to the Super. He called the city constable and the tramp was apprehended.
He was brought into town and a warrant for his arrest sworn out. They sent him to the county jail in Eureka, he was
brought to trial ten days later and was found guilty of a misdemeanor and given a stiff jail sentence. I don't remember if
he was sent to San Quentin or not. If we had not discovered that rail, there would have been a nice pile up of flat cars
for the wrecker!
 15

enough to do so. The doctor satd tf I did not overdo it, or blow too hard, it would be beneftcial. I
bought an alto horn and started tn wtth the others, maktng good progress We rehearsed once every
week and did lots of practtcing at home. Charlte was a good leader and we learned fast. On the 26
of April, following our organizatton, the Odd Fellows celebrated thetr anntversartand employed the
band to furnish the mustc for the day. I think we got $50.00 for the day. On the ir n of May, followtng,
we were htred by the Knights of Pythias to celebrate thetr natal day.
We played for two or three 4 m of July celebrattons, gave a Hard Times Masquerade Ball, at
whtch I was dressed as an old man in a pioneer group. After playtng for a year or more on a horn
that cost me $40, I dectded I'd like to play a coronet. Charlte said he thought I could do it all right, so
I sold the hom and bout a coronet for $30 more than I got for the alto horn. We had some very jolly
times. One 4 th of July I trted to cltmb the greased pole for the watch that was on the top as a prtze,
but fatled. These were happy days!
The Masquerade Ball that I mentioned deserves more description. There was five tn our
group, three men and two women, representtng a ptoneer group comtng west. I was representtng a
scout, the other men were dressed as platnsmen. One of the women represented an Indtan women,
the other a whtte woman and all of us were masked. My mother and father were there. I would stop
and say something to them during the march around the Hall. They didn't know me until I offered to
shake hands wtth mother and she recogntzed a wart I had on the end of the second finger of my rtght
hand. She said, "Oh you naught boy! I would not have known you, only for that wart!"
One time we decided to swtpe a one horse delivery wagon from a very jolly and popular
bustness man that dtd not use it much. We wanted to use it tn our part of the parade. We took the
wagon right tnto the hall, where tt created qutte a sensation. Qutte a lot of people knew where Gene
Deming's wagon had gone, but kept mum. Gene was the city constable and had a wagon repair and
blacksmtth shop. He dtdn't need the wagon badly, this we knew, but he was letttng It be known that
he would arrest the man that stole his wagon if he could fin him. Well, we had not proceeded more
than 20ft. in the hall when a shout arose and Gene dtscovered his wagon. "There's my wagon,u he
shouted, and came over to where we were and wanted to know how we had kept tt hidden so long.
He had looked all over town for it. Fortunately, no arrests were made!
In the fall of 1884, a presidenttal election year, there were many poltttcal meetings held tn
Arcata and Eureka. The Democrats and Republicans organize the younger voters into clubs. The
Democrats gave each member a blue coat, cap and flambo. 1° The Republicans dressed their club tn
red coats and caps. The Arcata Band played qutte a number of engagements. When the Eureka
Band came to Arcata, the two bands would play tn concert after the parade was over. One of the mtll
owners that lived tn Arcata had a four masted Schooner build at the Fair Haven Shtpyard (now the
Rolph Shipyard), across the bay from Eureka. When the boat was ready, the bank went down to play
on the ship as tt started down the ways. The bass drummer was so excited and beat the drum so
hard, that he broke the reed.
The band stayed together for several years until, one by one, the members went away or
dropped out. I dtd not play any more for several years. I dtdn't play any more for several years.

A Lesson Learned
I owned a buckskin pony and a saddle that cost me $125.00. My outfit was the envy of all
my friends, some gtrls among them. There was a young gtrl, a good horsewoman, that I knew well
who was livtng at our home and going to school. Her home was on a large sheep ranch back tn the
htlls. Of course she was a good hunter and a good shot with a rtfle. One Sunday I invtted her for a
horseback ride. She would ride my pony, Nelly, and I was to ride a borrowed horse. Thts horse had
been out to pasture for some ttme and was constderably bloated and did not carry the saddle well.
When out on the road a ways, the gtrl satd Nelly's saddle was slipptng to one stde, so I took her by
the arm to keep her from falltng. Her wetght, added to my own, caused my saddle to turn and I had
to release her arm to save myself. I released my feet from the sttrrups, as the saddle was down on

10 Coal oil torch.

 16

the horse's stde by this time, and still falltng. I got myself free of the saddle and fell clear of the
horse. It was now getting excited, as it was a very spirited animal, and started to run with the saddle
under tt's belly. The antmal headed back to town and ran onto a railroad trestle and ktlled itself. This
expertence cost me $125.00 for the horse. By this ttme I was getttng qutte a btt of experience and
was growtng up to take my place among people.

My Faithful Companion
I was very fond of duck hunting and had a fine double barrel shotgun. I had a little cocker
spaniel dog that was a wonderful duck dog. One day I was shoottng ducks and the dog took cramps
while retrievtng. He had gone down twice when I dropped my gun and plunged tn up to my armptts
in the cold water. Just before he went down for the third ttme, I grabbed him, got him out on the
bank and worked him over for several minutes before he could stand up. I finally got him walking
and we went home.
It was during this time that I dtd many things that brought me in direct contact with many
people of my own age and older. Every summer, several of my closest friends and I went hunting
for deer and bigger game. Taktng our saddle horses and pack antmals, we would go back in the
mountatns 50 mtles or so, sometimes on the Trinity River, Grouse Mountain, the Bald Htlls or other
places. One of these trips I took my ltttle dog. He soon got sore feet and I had to carry htm up on
my saddle until we got to camp. His feet were so tender he would hardly try to walk.
We stayed tn this camp for several days. When we broke camp the dog was just begtnning
to move around and I though he would be able to travel a little. I started away and he followed a
short distance and stopped. The other boys had gone on ahead and were some distance away. I
dtdn't like being too far behind and I thought the dog would come along so I could ltft him up on my
saddle. We went on, but he never caught up wtth us. The farther we went the more badly I felt, but
somehow kept thtnking the little fellow would come on. He never dtd, and two years later I went back
to thts camp and there the bones of my little pet lay where the campftre had been. I have prayed
many times that God might forgive me for being so cruel to a dumb animal.

Driving the Hogs

On another camping trip during this time, far back tnto the mountatns on Redwood Creek, I
killed my first rattlesnake wtth 13 rattles and buttons. We went on tnto Hoopa Valley Indtan
Reservatton and struck camp there without getttng a permtt from the Army Headquarters.' From
there we went on to the Bald Hills, near Marttn's Ferry on the Klamath River. It was a deltghtful
place to camp. The owner of the land, a sheep rancher, Mr. Jonathan Lyons, was a close friend of
my fathers.
While camping, Mr. Lyons asked me to help a man take a drove of hogs about 15 mtles, to
Marttn's Ferry. It took the day, as the hogs traveled slowly. We arrived late, but the man I was
helping dtd not tnvite me to supper or to stay the night. So I satd, if there is nothing more I can do
I'll be hitting the tratl?
I headed the little mule I was riding towards camp. Mr. Lyons had told me to just give this
mule a free bit and he would take me home. It was quite dark and I had to go into a deep canyon. I
could hear the rustling of wildltfe getting out of our way. We were soon through thts dark canyon and
cltmbtng the mountatn towards the west. We came to more open ground the higher we went. The
moon was just coming up when we got to the summit, and the little mule was poundtng the tratl as
fast as he could walk, when suddenly he stopped short, wheeled around and headed back down the
trail. He went about 200 ft. before I could stop him. I turned htm around and started back up, but the

" The Government there was maintained by a company of soldiers. Lieutenant Gray of this company rode into our camp
the following morning and told us if we did not report to headquarters within a certain time, he would send a
detachment of soldiers to escort us off the reservation. We did not lose anytime in reporting. When we did, Captain
Dougherty, who had full charge, roared with laughter and told us to stay as long as we wanted.
 17

minute he came to that spot, he stopped again and pulled htm up. I got off, being very careful to
hold the bridle tightly, and picked up some rocks and began sounding out the tratl ahead and the
brush on etther stde. I was now convtnced that there was either a rattlesnake or a wtld cat, panther
or mountatn lion ahead of us. I was not afratd, for I had a big revolver tn the saddle bad and knew
how to use tt.
By this time the moon was getttng ahead of us and was shining right down the tratl for some
dtstance ahead of us. I could see nothtng, so tried again wtth the mule. He stopped at the same
spot and got sttff-legged and would not budge an tnch. I concluded our trouble was a snake and
turned tnto the brush and around the trail. The mule was perfectly willtng to do thts and we rejoined
the tratl about 150 ft. ahead of the spot. The mule was over hts troubles and began to hit the trail as
if nothtng had happened. We had lost about 30 mtnutes, but we had all night to get back.
We were now on the old Indian tratl that had been used for many years by the Indtans and
Whttes traveltng from the mouth of the Klamath to the Hoopa Valley Indtan Reservatton. It had also
been used by the U.S. Army durtng the Indian raids tn the Northwest, 1861-1863. We were not far
from our camp now and the ltttle mule knew he was nearing home. It was after 11:00 PM when we
arrived. I took the saddle and bridle off the mule and turned him loose, knowing he would go to the
ranch house, about 1.5 or 2 mtles up the trail.

More Ducks
Thts story happened around 1886 or 1887. It was the fall of the year, just about the time the
ftrst fall rains and storms begtn. A southeast wtnd had been blowtng for 24 hours, a good indicatton
that one of Humboldt County's old fashioned storms was not far away. I had anticipated thts for
several days and had all my shells loaded and ready for actton. 12 When these storms came, the
ducks would leave the rough waters on the Bay and flock to the gratn ftelds and settle down tn the
leas of the fences grown up wtth brush and brters.
The storm had not broken yet, but the wind was blowing a perfect gale and I was sure tt
would be good shooting that morning. At 8:00 AM, I put on my htp boots, a long sltcker and rubber
hat, filled the belt wtth loaded shells and gave the gun a good otling I had about a mile and a half to
go before I got to the place I expected to do my hunting. There were several grain fields in this
section, I was walktng up a road on the fence line where the wind break was good.
As I got to where I could look across the field, I was amazed to see the ground covered wtth
ducks as far as the eye could see. There were as many close by as 30 ft. from the fence. I stooped
over as much as I could, stepped down into the dttch by the fence and kept moving on to get close
enough to get a shot. Finally I ratsed up to see the stght directly over the fence from where I was.
Not 40 ft. from me were more ducks than I had seen in my entire ltfe, the ground seemed to be
moving with ducks! I was reluctant to shoot, but after a few minutes was ready to go tn to actton.
I found a good spot to stand and dectded to give them one barrel on the ground and one on
the wing when they rose to fly. Mallards, Pidgeons, Teal, Pintatls and Spoonbtlls all rtght tn front of
me! I took aim at the group still on the ground, pulled the trigger and tt snapped. I tried agatn and
agatn, I was excited now, for I dtd not stop to put a fresh shell tn the ftrst barrel. I ratsed up, gave a
yell and ftred the second barrel. For a few moments, the atr was filled with ducks, as I had never
seen the like before. When it was all over, I went over the fence and picked up 10 or 12 fine ducks,
then began to kick myself for not ustng both barrels on the wtng. I dectde I had all the ducks I
wanted to carry home wtthout going any farther. It was now about 9:00 PM, so I turned my face
homeward, well satisfied with the hunt.
Several months later, when the winter wtnds and severe storms were practically over, a
friend of mine, Tom Handcom, and I went on another duck hunt. He was a middle-aged man and a
good sport, and told me about some pretty good shooting out at the mouth of the Mad River, about

12 I always bought my ammunition by the fts can of powder and 20ft bag of shot and loaded the shells myself. I had a belt
that I made myself that held 35 shells and was enough for one day's shoot.
 18

stx mtles from my home. The ducks had begun to migrate back towards the North, so the shooting
was poor in our section.
We told no one where we were going, I just told Mother I was gotng hunttng, as did Tom.
Tom had a fine rowboat. We started early tn the morntng, first to the south tn a big slough about 2
miles, then directly west to a big slough that was once the channel of Mad River when it emptted into
the Bay many years ago. Now thts channel was closed and the Rtver ran tnto the ocean about 2
mtles below, cutting the Pentnsular off from the mainland. After the slough, we went dtrectly north to
the mouth of the rtver. All the ducks we saw were headtng north and flytng htgh, not close enough to
shoot at all. There were no ducks at the mouth of the rtver and the day was turning warm and sultry.
We finally gave it up and turned for home, it was getttng late in the afternoon and we had a long way
to go.
We happened to meet a hunter that hunted for the market. This fellow told us tt would not be
posstble for us by rowboat to get back to the slough we started from, for the tide was out, and would
not be tn unttl the followtng morning. He offered us hospttality, tf we cared to accept it, for the night.
There was nothtng else to do, so we stayed wtth him in hts nice houseboat. We were qutte
comfortable for the ntght.
Things, however, were not so nice at home! My folks and Tom's employers were upset. We
had left in Tom's rowboat and naturally had to go tnto the Bay. The next momtng our host refused
any payment for housing us, so we thanked htm for his kindness and soon were on our way home. It
was nearly noon when we arrived and found my famtly frantic wtth worry. They had been about
ready to send out a search party.
Neither of us got a shot at a duck or anything else on the whole trip. But we dtd get very
ttred and hungry for our trouble. Usually wet, tired and hungry are a hunter's luck. I promtsed myself
from that day I would never leave home and family agatn wtthout first telling them where I intended
to go. We figured we had rowed a total of eleven mtles each way on that trip!

More About Work

On November 27, 1887, I joined the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, at 21 years, 10
months and 28 days old. I was worktng for the Ratlroad Company tn the sectton crew. The
superintendent of the job was one of the owners of the Road and was an Odd Fellow. One day after
we had finished our lunch, he came over to where I was and asked me to join the Lodge. He told me
of the virtues of the Order and tnvited me to make the step, which I dtd shortly thereafter. I found it
to be all he had told me in every respect and through it I have made many staunch acquatntances
and friends. I kept my dues paid up regularly unttl 1932, when ttmes were pretty bad, work was
scarce and wages low. Thts barred me from the Oddfellows Home for ten years. I was out of
standing until November 3, 1935, but since then I am eltgtble to enter the Home as an Oddfellow tn
good standtng. As such, I or my heirs are entttled to $50.00 as a funeral expense as long as I keep
my dues patd up.
I decided to quit carpentry when the business got slow and accepted a job as brakeman on
the narrow gauge Arcata and Mad River Railroad, Owl Freight Train, at $60.00 per month. 13 Brother
Walter was the engineer on this train. The work was entirely at ntght and not only tough, but
dangerous. There was no set work schedule, and no overtime was paid. It was rather cold and
foggy and sometimes for weeks we would not see the sun tn the evening or morning. The work
during the week was all freight, and Sundays we were called tnto Tiburon for passenger servtce.
Sometime between 1880 and 1885 I took an excursion. There was a btg mill just across the
Mad Rtver from Warren Creek Mtll, where I ran the logging locomotive. This mill was owned by John
M. Vance. He operated a railroad from hts mill to a landtng on the old channel of the Mad River.
Thts channel ts the one I menttoned before in one of my hunting stortes. The company also owned a
stem wheel feny boat that plied from thts wharf to Eureka, towing logs to a mill there and brtntng
back merchandise and other freight going that way.

13 This was the summer of 1888, and I kept this job for about three and a half years.
 19

The company had no passenger cars, as they never carrted passengers. The only cars they
had were lumber and logging cars and very crude at that. However, they advertised an excursion
and picntc over thetr road, connecting wtth the ferryboat at the ratlroad termtnal on the channel.
From there the boat went south, past Eureka and on down the bay, passtng the Rotph Fatrhaven
Shipyard, down to the South Bay, where the machtne shops of the Ell Rtver Ratlroad are located,
then farther on to Hookton to the south. It must have been 20 mtles and took all day to make the
round trtp. I don't remember how I got up to the mill, but there was a btg crowd and the locomotive
was decorated with flags and bunting. The cars had been fixed up so they were safe, the sides
boarded up 3-4 feet htgh and seats were made of the same material. There was a btg crowd and
everyone seemed to be enjoytng himself. From the mill to the landing was about 4 mtles, the road
follows the rtver on the north stde of the bridge, just below Shaw's Crosstng. The county road
crossed the river here, and close by ts the old rock quarry (grantte) that furntshed the rock for the
lighthouse that was butlt near Crescent Ctty many years ago. Well, do I remember the tratn rtde!
The day was perfect and the water was a smooth as glass. As we passed the entrance from the
ocean, we could see the whistling buoy and hear the dtsmal moans and groans as tt rose and fell
from the action of the waves. As we passed the entrance, swells from the ocean rocked our boat
and some of the passengers got a ltttle seasick. I don't remember how the people got back to Arcata
from the place we had started, nor where we got our dtnner, all I remember was I was very tired
when I got home!
I was on the first excursion train run over the Ell River and Eureka Railroad from Eureka to
Scotia. It was a much ntcer train, comfortable coaches and a much lamer engine than the one I just
described. We crossed the bay from Arcata to Eureka on the steamer, the Ma, a stem wheeler, and
board the tratn at the foot of Second Street in Eureka. The train went through very beautiful country
and arrived at Scotta about noon. The place were the tratn stopped was tn a dense growth of
redwoods and about where the Depot now ts, the sunshine did not reach the ground. The pond had
not yet been built, nor the mill started, but the were breaking ground for both.

A Lesson In Friendship
It was here that I became reacquatnted with my school days chum, Harry W. Jackson. He
had gone to Berkeley and received 4 -5 years of college tratning and had come back to Arcata to
step tnto his fathers footprtnts. Harry's father" had extensive mill and timber holdtngs tn Blue Lake
and Riverstde. When his parents died, the vast lumbertng industry was left to Harry, their only son.
He now had the burdens of management of a huge bustness on hts shoulders. And I was working on
a ratlroad that was hauling the many thousands of fee of lumber from his mills to the shtps that
carried it to the four comers of the earth. We renewed our friendshtp and chatted about our school
days, the Mud Brigade and other things common to young men of our age.
Two days seldom passed that we did not meet in a bustness way or he was a passenger on
my train. Hts headquarters were at the Riverside Mill, and I did many errands for htm when I'd be in
Arcata, as I was there twice a day. Numerous times I carried a bag of money, sometimes contatning
as much as $5,000.00, tn an tron box bolded to the wall of one of the cars in the train. This was
payday money. He always met me at the switch and received the money. There was always a
perfect understandtng between him, the bank and myself, that I would not be responstble for the safe
delivery of the money. Most of the time Jackson would go to Arcata himself, get the money from the
Bank, bring it to the train and lock it tn the train box.
I had saved enough money ($500.00) to buy a lot in Arcata 75 where I though I might build a
house. I asked the RR company what the freight would be for lumber, and they said they would

" Mr. Jackson was a kindly old gentleman, quiet and unassuming, always pleasant to all he came in contact. His wife was
a most beautiful character. Both of them were members of the Presbyterian Church in Arcata. Mrs. Jackson had a
Sunday School class which I attended. Of the three boys that composed her class, all of us showed her the highest love
and esteem.
" This is where the Barrel Factory now stands.
 20

charge as little as posstble. Harry said he would charge me just as much as tt cost to make the
lumber. It all sounded fine, but I dtdn't realize then that I would be leaving Arcata soon, for good.
I dtd not see Harry Jackson again until 1920, nearly 30 years later. I was at the Depot tn
Eureka, just before the southbound train, #4, pulled out for San Franctsco. Jackson was on hts way
to the city, walking towards the Pullman sleeper when I hailed htm. He hesttated, reluctant to stop,
when I walked up to greet him as I had always done. I asked him how he was and tried to start a
conversation. Ftnally I asked htm tf the lumber deal he had promised me back in 1890 sttll held
good, as I was expecttng to build a house in Uktah tn the near future. He looked me straight in the
eye and satd, "I can't do anythtng for you? He turned abruptly and went into the sleeper.
I worked for the Rolph Shipyard several years, 1917-1920, and there I heard many things
about Harry Jackson. He had developed into a grouchy, hard-boiled businessman, with ltttle respect
for any man that earned a ltvtng with his hands at hard labor. He married a graduate of Mtlls College
tn Oakland. Both worshtpped their only God, Money. When Harty died, March 3, 1937, his estate
was valued far above the $1,000,000.00 mark. I am not sure whether his wtfe ts sttll ltving or not.
Harry Jackson never so much as offered me a ctgar. It is a terrible thtng for a man or woman to pass
into Eterntty wtth such a penalty hanging over them.

My First Vacation
While I worked for them, though, the company gave me a month's vacation tn September of
1890. In company wtth a friend, John McCullum, I went to San Francisco early tn the month to be
there for the Native Sons Celebration. On the morning of the 9th, we went over to Market Street
from the Ferry Butldtng to stt on a huge ptle of lumber on the site where the Crocker Nattonal Bank
now stands. They were just starttng the butlding. We were not the only ones on that pile of lumber.
Every available space big enough to stand up or sit down on was taken. The Parade started at 11
AM and was still passing Market Street at 4 PM. Every parlor of Nattve Sons and Daughters in the
state must have been in that parade. Many of them had brass bands to lead them. Most of the
Parlor members wore whtte trousers and a different colored coat or cape with a hat to match. Every
town and hamlet tn Southern Caltfornia was represented and many had a large number in the
parade.
The next day I went down to San Jose to visit some friends that had lived in Arcata, as well
as to see what was then called the Garden City of Californta. It was beautiful, flowers, lawns and
well-kept homes. On my return I boarded a narrow gauge train with 10 or 12 packed cars. My frtend
had returned to Arcata and I was havtng the time of my ltfe stght-seeing. A bit later I went down to
Bryant Street to see and pay my respects to one of the owners of the Railroad I was worktng on.
also wanted to see their cigar factory. Thts Mr. Korbel invtted me to go wtth htm up to their vineyard
and winery on the Russian Rtver, near Guemeville and stay as long as I liked. I accepted hts offer
and the following morntng we met at the Ferry Buildtng and started on our trip to the ranch. At
Tiburon he introduced me to the Superintendent as, "One of his punchers," on the ratlroad. 16 We
boarded the train and arrived at the ranch by 11:00 AM. He told me to make myself at home and do
anything I wanted to.
I stayed two days, went back to San Francisco and the following day left by boat back to
Tiburon. At Tiburon I met the conductor for the Ukiah train, I had known him when he lived in Arcata
several years before. He invited me to make the Ukiah run, which I accepted. It was my first trip to
Ukiah, and we only stopped there 15 minutes so I dtdn't see much of the town. I went back to San
Francisco, strolled about the city and rested for a couple of days, then decided to go vistt my oldest
brother, Hal, who by then was living in Shasta County and worktng a mtne on the Upper Sacramento
River.
Myself and a railroad conductor I had met at the hotel took an early train to Sacramento,
thinking we would stop over a few hours and explore the state capttol. We went up tn the cupola of
the Capitol, but it was so foggy we couldn't see anything. I carved my initials on one of the Pilasters

16
This was the same Superintendent I presented my clearance card to not quite a year later.
 21

just under the dome. He was on his way back to Idaho, so we shook hands and satd good-bye. I
took the Shasta Special to Redding and he was to board the next Overland.
When I left Sacramento, the fog was so thtck you could cut tt wtth a knife. Before 4:00 PM
we ran out of the fog, the farther we headed north, the hotter tt was getting. When we arrived at
Reddtng at 8:00 PM, the heat was intense. I suppose comtng out of that fog made me feel tt more. I
dtdn't go to bed very early and when I dtd tt felt ltke I was crawling into an oven. The next morntng
was as hot as the night before. At about 8:00 AM, the Shasta Ltmited came along gotng north. I
boarded it for Delta, a ltttle town about 30 mtles north, to find the mtne was brother was working. The
mine was several miles outstde of town, so I htred a horse and received some vague dtrecttons on
how to get there.
I found a tratl, but tt was always running up a tree. I kept gotng, knowtng I could not get lost
if I stayed on the horse. Ftnally I ran across some newly cut timber and was satisfied that I would
soon ftnd the mtne. I then came to a well used tratl and followed it on and soon saw the cabins
where the men lived.
The trail brought me down an tncline and close to a ltttle creek. I had not gone far when I
noticed a man down in the brush near the creek, fishtng. Of course, that interested me and I
watched to see what success the man was having. On a little closer observation I decided the man
was my brother, though I had not seen htm tn twelve years. As soon as I was sure, I ventured to ask
how the fishing was going. He did not look up at once, but seemed tntent on the catch. I then
ventured another questton, to which he took nottce. He looked up, looked me over and all at once
recogntzed me and said, say golly, that's Charley and that settles the ftshing for today.'
Well, we had a wonderful vtstt for 2 or 3 days. He was worktng on getting out timbers and
putttng them tn the mine for cribbing. I felt sorry for him because I knew his environment and the
company he was in. I stayed with htm a few days and when I left I was glad I had come to see htm.
Thts was several years before he was married and he was leading a lonely and desolate ltfe. I
stayed as long as I felt I could, thts was my first long trtp, so far from home, and my vacation was
drawing to an end. Somehow I wanted to be back and at work agatn. Little did I know that I'd be
coming back to the big ctty before long.

A Merry, Merry Christmas

Every Christmas my thoughts go back to December 25th, 1890. I was still working the
A&M.R. RR, runntng out of Arcata to Korbel, where I ltved. I had a ratlroad trtcycle that I used when I
wanted to travel after worktng hours.
After we had made our first run up for the day and I had made my supper, I prepared to go
back down home. All my family lived tn Arcata and we were to spend Christmas Eve at my ststers
home. The crowd would include: Julta and Frank, thetr four boys, the youngest about 1 and a half at
the time; my mother and father; Mr. and Mrs. George Harpst and myself'.
What a wonderful eventng we had together! It was the last we were to spend together,
though we did not know that. I left Arcata that ntght at about 11:00 PM on my ratlroad tricycle and
got to Korbel about 12:00 AM. It took me about an hour each way to pump that thtng.
About a year before I went to work for the ratlroad company tn Humboldt County, I got a job
running a logging locomotive in the woods at the Warren Creek Mill on the Mad River, about five
miles from town. I did not hold this job for long. I didn't like tt and I guess they did not like me, so tt
was mutual all around. I also ran a steam donkey tn the woods at Jane's Creek Mill, about 2 months.
This was 1886. Thts crew had seven or eight men, called riggers. These fellows would httch rigging
to a log then it would be my job to pull the log out to the sktd road where the teams could get hold of

17 Forty-seven years have passed and now there are just three members of that group left. My sister, Mrs. Julia Stem, her
oldest son, C.F. Stern, and myself, C.B. Hopkins. limy Armstrong Stern was the last one to be laid away. He passed
away in San Jose in 1942 and was buried in the Masonic Cemetery in San Francisco. Time and Tide Waits for No Man.
 22

them and take them to the mill pond. We slept in cabins tn the camp and ate at the mill cook house.
There were so man fleas in this cabtn they could have carried it off tf they trted
I worked as a Conductor on the A&M.R. Ratlroad until Aprtl, 1891, I restgned on account of a
little skirmish I had wtth the supertntendent. 18 After receivtng my clearance card from the A&M.R.
RR, I presented it to the Supertntendent of the San Franctsco & Northern Pacific Ratlroad at Ttburon
and at the same ttme made application for a job there. I did not have long to wait.

18 I was making an special trip with several carloads of lumber from Arcata for a ship that was sailing on the next flood
tide. Everything went as planned and we were traveling at a good speed when we saw another little engine coming in
on our track front the other end of the yard. We were able to stop in time, and to my surprise the Super stepped off the
other train. I was considerably worked up and said something that could well have been left unsaid. We continued on
our way to the wharf then back to the mills with the empty cars. As usual, I went back to the platform cars to consult
with Super as to what cars I was to leave at which mills and what line we should use to go back home. After this was
all settled he said to me, "Charlie, the next time look at original for page 10, back side
 23

Ukiah 1891-1907
My Career Develops
In the fall of 1891, during the time I was a brakeman for the Owl Fretght Train, running
between Tiburon and Petaluma and leavtng tn the morntng between 7 and 8 AM. The trip was a
distance of about 90 mils and took a full day to make the round trip. On arrivtng in Petaluma, the
engineer and ftreman took the locomotive down to Donohoe, the old terminal before the RR was
extended to Tiburon.
For many years, the road ran from Cloverdale to Donohoe, the extreme southern termtnal,
and from were the ferry boat plied to San Francisco. After the line was extended to Ttburon, the
section to Donohoe was discontinued, except for one round trip a day to keep the franchise.
Occastonally the engine would take a car wtth some ktnd of merchandise to Donohoe. The engineer,
ftreman and their familtes were about all the people that ltved in Donohoe at the time of this
experience.
When a freight car was taken to Donohoe, a brakeman from the day fretght tratn had to go
on wtth the engtne to handle the car. The engtneer was an Irishman by the name of Paddy Hart,
about 60 years old, and anything but agreeable to get along wtth. He generally got his way. In the
fall of that year, the crew of the day freight had a pretty hard deal and it was hard to keep reliable
brakemen on the job. Here is where I came into the ptcture. One morntng before I had eaten
breakfast, after I had made the run on the Owl, a message came from the Supervtsor saytng, "C.B.
Hopkins, brakeman Petaluma, You will go on the Day Fretght Train with Conductor Hayward for a
few days, the train wtll watt for you to get your breakfast? This first day was rough, wtth not sleep
last night and not famtliar wtth the run, but I got through the day pretty well worn out. On top of this,
had to go on to Donohoe wtth a car of wood. I dtd not know then that there was no place to board or
sleep at Donohoe until we got there. I asked the engineer tf I could get accommodations at his home
for the night. He told me to go and see his wtfe, whtch I did. I guess the woman had little sympathy
for me, but satd she would find a place for me that ntght. The next morning, as soon as we arrived in
Petaluma, I wtred the Super, will not go to Donohoe anymore to stay over the ntght, as there was
no place to stay: This message sttrred up a hornet's nest. First the Super wired the conductor to
give me time to go up town and get breakfast. Then he sent a message to Pat Hart, the engtneer of
the Day Freight Train, saying, 'Taking effect today, on arrtval of Tratn 34 in Petaluma, you wtll make
the regular run to Donohoe and returned to Petaluma. You engtne will go on the spot for the night
tnstead of Donohoe. If you ever saw a wtld Irishman, it was Pat Hart that morning. A brakeman did
not have to go to Donohoe unless a car was to go. Thts change made it better for me and I could
stay at my regular boarding house in Petaluma.
A few days after thts sktrmish, I was still on the Day Freight, we were going to drop some
cars onto the Spur Track at the Van Allen Cannery at Healdsburg. I have menttoned this Cannery
before. The swttch at this spur track is on a trestle, south of the brtdge, and has a board platform
about 6 feet wide and about 60 feet long for the conventence of the crews getting on and off the
trains whtle they are moving. As Head Brakeman of Train 30 & 34, I always rode in the engine. In
dropptng these cars, tt was necessary to make a flying switch, as the track extended in the same
dtrection the train was movtng. When within about one quarter of a mile of the swttch, I told the
engineer to slow down so I could get off, but he paid no attention. I again called his attentton to
slowtng down, but instead he let the train slide over the switch at a goodly cltp, so I stayed on the
engine. After we had gone some distance, I satd to him, °Now you can stop and go back and we'll do
the switching from a standsttll? He was furious, he expected to see me take flop at the switch and
maybe fall from the trestle. Well, I fooled him! I explained the situation to the conductor, for we had
lost fifteen minutes, when we needed every minute we could save. The conductor could not blame
me for my actions, for it was all up to the engineer to gtve the crew a chance.
Once whtle I was running a gravel train, I had fintshed dumping a load a little north of Penn
Grove, and was beattng it back to the long stding at Cozati, located on that piece of flat section,
 24

south of Santa Rosa. I was on the first flatcar, we were backing up, and had ten minutes to get into
clear of the Day Freight #34., which was then south of the switches. As soon as Pat Hart, the
engineer, saw me coming, he whistled for brakes, stopped, and backed up to clear so we could get
onto the side track. Hart knew he was ahead of time and did not show his face when we passed his
engine.
I was glad when I was sent back to my job on the Owl, even if it was an undesirable job. Pat
Hart had to move his family up to Petaluma to live, and settled the job with the brakemen having to
go to Donohoe and having to take chances of getting a ride back to Petaluma on the Steamer Gold,
which came up the slough from San Francisco some time late at ntght.
I held the brakeman job, at $80.00 per month, for nine months when the conductor was
caught stealing from the company and was fired on the spot. I was put in his place, at $70.00 per
month, and held that job for another two and a half years. This job was the north end of the
Ukiah/Cloverdale ltne. It was delightful change, but fearfully hot compared to the job on the lower
end. It gave me the opportunity to see more of the workings, schedules and regulations of the
industry, but most importantly, I had a daylight job. This was a train of two passenger/two
accommodatton freight and passenger cars and was the regular through mail and express trains from
San Francisco. We had a regular schedule, but the work had to be done, even if it took 24 hours to
do it, and again, there was no overtime.
I paid $20.00 per month for board and room at the Palace Hotel. They always sent me a
warm lunch as the tratn only stayed in Ukiah 15 minutes (12.45 - 1:00 PM). It took me two months to
get good color in my face and I soon began to be myself once more. The months passed quickly
and I was trytng to make every opportunity a special one, doing everything I was assigned to do, the
very best I knew how. My main objective was to perform every order from the Super to the letter. I
enjoyed the climate tn Ukiah and met many fine people, some of them still living in Ukiah. The year
1892 passed very quickly, I was kept busy and was leaming the ropes of the Railroad as fast as I
could. 19
From the early part of 1893, and on until I left the ratlroad, I dtd not have a job that I could
call a regular one. I was used as a football, betng assigned to relieve men on other trains as
baggage man or conductor. This was a wonderful opportunity to make myself well acquainted with
much of the inside workings of the line from one end to the other. It also brought me in direct
contact with many of the officials, among them, Train Dispatcher, George McMullen. 2° We were
very warm friends and he never failed to give me a break in my favor, if possible. Hardly a day
passed that I did was not in contact wtth his office in one way or another.
Very early in my experience as an acting Conductor on the S.F. & N. W. Pacific RR, I came
in contact with what the conductors called °Spotters". I had know of this particular group for some
time, but had never contacted one before. Somehow the conductors always knew these fellows and
would kid them about their job These fellows were sent out by the company to head off tllegal sale
of tickets by conductors and agents alike. My first experience was on the north end of the line
between Cloverdale and Uktah. A Mr. C. A. M. boarded my train at Ukiah. I knew what his job was
when I approached him for his ticket, for he handed me an expired annual pass. This pass was

19 There was one thing that impressed me more than anything else. In running a train, the conductor must transact all
business called for at each station as he comes to them. Once he highballs out of the station, there is no going back to
correct mistakes.
20 He was promoted to the position of Superintendent of the division between Eureka and Willitts in about 1936, and held
that job until he died in 1942. A year or so before he died, I ran into him at the Ukiah Depot. We did not have much
time, so we talked fast about old times. He told me that before I left the railroad, I had been talked about as a future
superintendent. Undoubtedly, if I had stayed on, I would have been appointed to that position when a vacancy occurred.
I have thought of that matter many times since I talked with him. I believe now that I would have deliberated not a little
on the possibility, if offered it Some would call me a fool to turn down such a job, but I may have done just that.
Why? Because I have seen several terrible wrecks and many people killed. I knew some of the men responsible for
these wrecks that I though were well qualified to run a train under any orders. There are none of us that are perfect in
everything.
 25

issued by Mr. A. W. Foster, the president of the Road, and written across the face tn red letters was
the expiration date, now passed. I accepted tt, put tt tn my pocket, and satd, "Your pass ts out of date
and void. I can't accept tt on thts tip." He was quite indignant and said he would report me for ltfttng
hts annual pass and that he would not pay another fare. We were nearing the El Robles statton and I
reached up for the bell cord and at the same ttme said, "Ill let you off here at El Robles if you don't
care to pay your fare? The engtne whistled for the statton, I sttll held the bell cord and said, "Wtll you
pay your fare, $4.50 + 10%, and stay on the tratn or . . . 7 He paid his fare and I gave htm a recetpt
for his money. I never heard anything from the General Office, nor did I have any more bother with
Mr. C.A.M.
How easy it is to read and misunderstand a train order somettmes under different situations.
I was asstgned a gravel train for six weeks and was intent on dumping as many cars per day as
possible, whtle not delaying any passenger trains. My tratn was going north and I was tn the
operators office in Santa Rosa asktng for running orders for Windsor, in advance of a passenger
train that was due in Santa Rosa in 15 minutes and was also headed north. I was looktng over the
operator's shoulder as he was writing this order, 'Hopkins Cond'r and Eddy Engineer, an extra Santa
Rosa to Winder..." Readtng thts, I turned and tnformed the Engtneer and returned to the operator
who was wafting for my signature so he could get the O.K. from the Train Dispatcher. I did not
observe that there was an addttion to my order, "...follow Engine #9, Fulton to Windsor." I signed the
order and stepped out and gave the Engtneer the Htgh Ball.
We arrived at Wtndsor tn plenty of time to dear the passenger tratn, but found ourselves in a
year that would not accommodate or permit three tratns to pass. A gravel train of 30 - 35 cars was
approaching from the north with full loads, my train was approaching from the South with 35 empty
cars and a passenger tratn was in stght at my rear, with no chance to get by until the gravel trains
were cleared. After 20 mtnutes, the passenger train was on its way, and tn 10 more minutes I was on
my way south wtth 35 loads.
Fortunately, we got out of the mtx-up without serious difficulty. I never heard a word from
the Super, but the Tratn Dtspatcher, my friend George, admontshed me to be sure to read the tratn
orders before I stgned them in the future. This mtstake I made mtght have cost someone's ltfe. 21
On another occasion when I was the acting conductor for a few days on the regular
passenger train, I left the baggageman in or around the depot at Cloverdale. I dtdn't realize tt unttl I
arrtved tn Hopland. There I recetved a message from the Super as follows, "On arrtving at
Cloverdale you wtll continue the run as baggage Master to Ttburon," addressed to "C.B. Hopktns,
Conductor Hopland."
The work laid out for me to do was preparing me for the many jobs before me in the next
three years. There were not many men making better progress than I, and many would get so far
and stop, not caring to go htgher.

Other Adventures on the Ukiah Line

This experience occurred in the winter of 1892 or 1893, not long before I was transferred to
the North end of the ltne, whtle I was a brakeman on the run between Ukiah and Cloverdale. This
was an exceptionally wet winter. Floods were givtng us plenty of trouble and many trains were
running late.
Our trouble came on Saturday when our crew was taktng Train #1 from Cloverdale to Ukiah.
Everything was going fine when we left Cloverdale, we were on time and maktng good time. The
Russtan Rtver was steadtly raistng and out of tt's banks tn many places. We had left Hopland on
time and were passtng through the Foss Ranch, where we found the rtver overflowing over the area
on the east stde of the track. About a mtle farther north and near a large station, there ts a sharp
curve around a steep bluff on the west stde of the tracks. On the other stde, the river was qutte dose

21 I believe God's protecting hand went with me through all the dangerous places, and there were many. I believe He had
a hand in the decision I made to leave the railroad for good. I have no regrets, though many of my friends and some
relatives have condemned me for quitting.
 26

and overflowing, but the area was quite a bit htgher than the place we had just passed and the water
was not over the tracks. The Engineer was beattng tt along as fast as he could across a short flat
just before the curve to get away from the htgh water and dtd not see a btg landslide on the brow of
the potnt unttl he was practtcally on tt. He applied the brakes quickly, but could not do so fast enough
to avotd httttng the 100 tons of mud on the track.
The engine struck and buried itself nearly back to the ftrst pair of drivers. The Engtneer put
his engine in reverse, opened the throttle wide, and with the recoil from the springs between the cars,
pulled the train back and free from the sltde. He parked the train about 100 ft. back and on higher
ground. On tnvestigation we decided to beat it back to Hopland and put our passengers, matl and
express on the stage for Uktah.
It was a fine idea, but when we reached the place where the water had been up to the tracks
a short while ago, the tracks were now washed off the grade and over tnto a fence. Nothtng was left
now but to go back to the htgh ground and dispatch someone to Hopland for transportatton for the
passengers and other baggage. The crew was marooned tndefinttely. Most of the crew had brought
a lunch, whtch was eattng some ttme Saturday afternoon, and we slept that ntght on the train.
A section crew was soon on the job and began on the sltde. The crew went to the Largo
Station and had breakfast at the home of Mr. and Mrs. John Crawford, who set up a wonderful meal.
The crew accused me of eattng 17 (????) biscuits!
The slide was cleared sufftctently for us to arrive tn Ukiah Sunday morning exactly 24 hours
late. On our return, No. 18 left Ukiah on ttme and found the track had been temporarily repatred.
We made the return to Cloverdale tn good time. The river was back to its channel, the ratn
substded, and the rest of the track repairs were soon made.
That same winter, not too long after this adventure and several days after a storm, the river
was sttll running half bankful with plentiful eroston and caving in of the rain soaked ground. Train
#31, an accommodation passenger and freight train where passengers rode in one end of the
caboose, left Ukiah at 8:00 AM, on ttme. There was not a cloud tn sight and by every indication the
storms had substded for awhile at least. We had a small tratn, 3 or 4 cars and a caboose as was
typtcal on the North End. We didn't have much work to do in the winter and just poked along to ktll
time.
We had passed over the sectton of ratlroad hardest hit by the storms and were approachtng
the Echo Tunnel, #7, a short tunnel bored through a part of the mountatn that projected rtght out to
the river bank. At the North Portal, the track was not to exceed 8 or 10 feet from the rtver. I nearly
always ltke to ride on the back platform when there was no work to be done. So thts morntng you
mtght say I was stghtseetng from that vantage potnt. I don't thtnk we were exceedtng 15 mtles per
hour and were qutte close to the river. My attentton was centered on the rtver and the track close by
when the Engtneer blew the whistle for the tunnel approach. As the caboose entered the tunnel, I
found myself staring at a huge hole tn the river bank at least 15 ft. long, reaching back from the river
to a point about tn the mtddle of the track! I didn't notice any undue rocktng or swaytng of the
caboose, but just the same, the hole was there.
I lost no time in getting through the caboose, telling the conductor as I ran, then hopping up
and over the tops of the box cars to the engine where I spilled the news. The Engineer and Fireman
did not belteve me, but I told the Engineer he would have to stop and go back, which he did. There
we found the gapptng hole as I had described it. The Engtneer could not believe his eyes, both he
and the Fireman declaring the hole had not been there when the engine had passed. He whtstled the
distress signal call to any sectton crew that might be wtthtn hearing dtstance and we proceeded on to
Cloverdale to make a report to the Superintendent.
Train #1 from San Francisco was due to leave Cloverdale at about 11:00 AM. Our crew,
Engtneer and all, were ready when the #1 arrived. We coupled up and were soon on our way back to
Ukiah. When we arrived at Echo Tunnel #7, there was a slow stgnal out for us, but we did not have
to stop. The section crew had thrown the track over close to the bank and clear of the gapping hole.
This arrangement served for several days until the brtdge crew could build a solid rock wall and fill
the hole wtth soltd matertal. Thts hole must have slide out from under the track about the ttme our
 27

caboose passed over. It could not have been pegqtble to cross, wtthout a serious wreck, tf the hole
had been there when the engtne when over it.
I think the following experience was one of my first as acting Conductor. The company sent
out a Tay Car" once every month, composed of Engine and one car with a Conductor only. I ran
thts "Pay Car" twice before the company discontinued it in 1893.
The Treasurer of the company, wtth hts bodyguard, was the Paymaster. Thts train would
stop and pay any of the employees of the company wherever they came to them out on the Line or
at a Station. The run covered was from San Rafael to Cloverdale, keeptng out of the way of all
regular tratns, and returning to Healdsburg late tn the afternoon. The Treasurer, Colonel Menton,
would set up a supper for the whole crew, hts wife included. The plum puddtng always came to the
table under fire!
In the year or winter of 1893 or 1894, the ratlroad company advertised, "A Night In Venice",
which was tn connectton wtth a celebratton the U.S. Navy was sponsoring out in the Bay, just off
Tiburon and Belvidere. I was assigned to run a spectal passenger train from Santa Rosa to Ttburon
that night. I had a good stzed train loaded wtth people from all along the line.
Suste Gannon and her mother had just arrtved from the east to visit with Uncle Gene and
Aunt Dora and were all on my train. 22 The U.S. Navy gave a fine concert and ftreworks from a barge
anchored out in the Bay. I got my train back to Santa Rosa after 12:00 AM that night, with everyone
well pleased with the celebration and the night rtde.

Meet Mama
This is the most important part of this whole story, the unwrttten part between the lines tn this
btography and the life and spirit of it, beginning the first of January, 1892. The spirit of tt shall be the
unwritten ltnes on each and every page to the end of this story.
I was ltving in Uktah, Caltfornia durtng the years of 1892-94, and worktng on the ratlroad.
Quite often I would see a handsome young lady going up town or on her way from town to her home,
the Cleveland Place, known far and wtde as "The Whtte House' Seeing her so often, I though I
would get acquainted with her - - and did, though I don't recall just how it came about. Her name
was Mtss Lucy Cleveland, and I was very happy to know her. She had a very close friend, Mtss
Agnes Dozier, who was with her qutte often. These two young women were devote Christian
workers, and invtted me to come to church as often as I could. I recall being tnvtted to and attending
one of the annual Church Meettngs and Dinner which was held tn the same room we now hold our
prayer meettngs.
I was invited into Miss Cleveland's home quite often and was fairly well acquainted wtth the
family when her father dted in 1894. She was a school teacher and was at thts time teachtng the
Central School, about two miles north of Uktah. Our friendshtp ripened into a deeper regard for each
other. There were many letters or notes dropped off at the Cleveland crosstng when my train came
in at noon. We were engaged to be married early tn 1893. In the meantime, Miss Dozier, her close
friend, had become engaged to Mr. G. A. Young, the express messenger on the train, and later my
partner in business. There were many happy times the four of us enjoyed together.
Our wedding date was set for August 7 th , 1894. In arranging my relief for the occasion, the
Superintendent wrote me several letters, which I sttll have. We were married at 11:30 AM by the
Rev. Mark W. Howard, Lucy's grandfather. After a most wonderful dtnner prepared by Lucy's
mother, we boarded the train for the city. At Wtndsor we recetved a pair of old shoes from a close
friend of mine. On arrtving in San Franctsco, we went to the Baldwtn Hotel on Market Street. At
about 8:00 PM we attended the weddtng of our dear friends, Mtss Dozter and Mr. Young. The
following day we had our weddtng ptctures taken at the Marceau Art Gallery on Market Street. On
the 9th , we took the steamer, "City of Chester", for Eureka. The voyage was uneventful, as we were
not very stck. On arrtval in Eureka, we crossed the Bay to Arcata, where my family lived. They were

22 This was my first time seeing Susie and her mother. I was not well-acquainted with Gene and Dora then.
 28

all happy to receive Lucy into their arms. I'll never forget the royal reception we recetved. One ntght
we dressed up in our wedding togs. How they all took over Lucy.
Our honeymoon came to an end too soon and we started back for Ukiah. We were glad to
get back home and back to work, as we were flat broke. We boarded tn the home of a very dear
frtend for several months, then found a house at 320 E. Perkins Street, close to the Depot. We were
very happy in thts our first home and lived there unttl late 1903, when we moved to 602 N. State
Street. We lived tn this home unttl late 1904 when we moved to 1114 W. Perktns Street. This was
where our first little baby boy, Charles Howard, came to bless our home. He was a sweet little tinkle.
We loved htm so much.
From thts place we moved to a house on the southeast corner of Oak and Smith Streets,
where we were livtng when the Earthquake came tn April, 1906. The baby was tn San Francisco
vtsittng at the home of the M.B. Gowans, 722 2 nd Avenue. Howard was sleeptng by the ftreplace and
a btg vase fell from the mantle and just missed htm by a few inches. I did not hear from Lucy for
several days and finally dectded to go after them. I got a free rtde to San Francisco on the tratn. On
arrival I started out for Market Street, for the Rtchmond Distrtct, Market Street, was a terrible sight.
On Larkin Street I was stopped and requtred to help shovel cinders from a bakery that had been
burned. I ftnally arrtved at the McGowan's but found no one. There were many people camptng tn a
vacant lot not far away. I soon found my folks among them. We stayed there all that Saturday ntght.
On Sunday morntng we went to the Ferry Buildtng, took a boat and a train for Santa Rosa, and from
there up to Ukiah. We were mtghty glad to be home!
That winter had a very heavy snowfall. I made a big snowman tn the yard and put a ltghted
candle on it for the baby to see. He was delighted. It was tn this house we had our first and only ftre.
Mama was putting the baby to bed in his little bassinet when she turned around and knocked the
lamp off the table. It broke and started the fire. Mama grabbed the baby and ran over to the
parsonage, Brother Hueston was our Pastor then. I closed the door and called the firemen and
began taking out the furniture. The room was small and when the oxygen was all burned the ftre
went out, before the fire boys arrived. We stayed at the parsonage that night.
While we were living here, Lucy's brother, N.D. Cleveland, died tn Sherwood Valley, north of
Wt!ltfts. I went with the undertaker for the body. It took us from 10:00 PM to nearly noon the next
day. This trtp was made wtth two horses httched to the dead wagon, over a rough road. There were
no highways nor automobiles then. We changed horses at Wtllttts, gotng north, and left there in a
snow storm. Newt Cleveland dted December 19 th and was buried December 22, followtng, tn 1906.
Thts part of my story brings us up to nearly the date we left Ukiah and went to Berkeley.
While we were separated much of the ttme from here on out, on account of our work, that same
abtding fatth in our Lord and Master, Jesus Chrtst, kept the home fires burning brightly in our hearts.

More Responsibilities
Early in 1894, I was asstgned a job tn Ttburon, swttching for the fretght crew while they
rested. The Super gave me a smaller engtne that the fretght engine and one man less than the
freight crew. I was supposed to get the switchtng done qutcker than the fretght crew. This went on
for three ntghts and I was late getting the freight out every morntng. The Super decided he would
show me how, but he was later than I was getting it out, so the job fell back on the freight crew.
The same condttion extsted at Ignacio, where the Sonoma Branch leaves the mainline and
where all the foreign freight cars leave the mainline. This point was always badly congested and
nearly always took three or four hours to get a train swttched to a branch line. Several crews were
assigned to relived the situatton at different times, but it seemed difficult to fine the man that could
do the job wtth the small locomotive power available. We all fell down, including the Super.
The winter of 1894 proved to be as wet as the year before, and the Cloverdale/Ukiah Line
was especially subject to damage. On January 25th, 1894, the ratlroad was inundated in many
places, requiring us to carry matl on hand car and sometimes by stage. There was one place near
Echo Station that was washed out for 155 ft. and the ratls and ttes were hangtng tn the air. In
another place, the track was washed off the grade for a dtstance of a quarter of a mtle. However,
 29

after about two weeks, the line was tn order again. February proved to be the same, with the same
area again washed out. These were strenuous days. We had to wear htp boots and raincoats most
of the time.
On May 9th, 1894, I was assigned a job as Porter on a special car carrying a group of
twenty-five or so internationally known women from San Francisco to the Bohemian Grove below
Guemeville, on the Russtan Rtver. My duty was to make everything as comfortable as posstble
while these women were the guests of the railroad. We arrived in the Grove at 11:00 AM, and you
should have heard the "ohs" and "ahs" as they stepped from the car tn the shadow of these majestic
redwood trees. They spend three hours in thts beautiful spot and had a most delightful lunch. I
recetved many autographs on my napkin. The time to leave the Grove came entirely too soon when
the engine arrtve at 2:00 PM. At 3:50 PM we arrtved in Santa Rosa where the women were to stay
ovemight. Thts ended my responsibilities as Porter for this special occasion.
I am not sure of the date, but tt was either 1894 or 1895, on May 5th, during the Santa Rosa
"Rose Camival." I had been given special instructtons the day before as to the running of a Special
Tratn from Ttburon to Santa Rosa. The tratn was composed of 11 passenger cars and the
Prestdent's Private Car on the rear for Governor Budd and his assoctates. I was given two
locomotives as far as San Rafael and one from there to Santa Rosa. We pulled out of Ttburon tn
advance of Train #1 wtth a clear track and arrived in Santa Rosa at 10:50 AM. There was a second
train that followed me out of Ttburon ten mtnutes later. Thts second sectton had 10 cars. We spend
the day knocking about Santa Rosa. At about 4:00 PM, I came to the Depot to begin preparations
for our return trip, leavtng at 5:30 PM. The #16 train was to leave at 4:10 PM.
I was in the office when a message came to me to get an engtne out as quickly as possible
and go to Healdsburg, as the Van Allen Cannery was on ftre as well as a number of gravel cars on
the spur track alongstde the cannery. My instructions were to, "Run extra to Healdsburg as qutckly
as possible and save as many gravel cars from burntng as you can." The distance to the Cannery
was about 17 miles, we made the run in 16 minutes, saved three cars and retumed to Santa Rosa in
ttme to take the Excurston tratn out at 5:30 PM.
In making up the Excursion Tratn the Super advised coupling the two train together wtth the
two engtnes in front. I protested, that we mtght pull a drawhead out wtth so many cars, but he
insisted and told me to advise the two Engineers to be careful. He was confident everythtng would
be okay.
We pulled out at 5:30 PM wtth 20 cars, two engtnes and Govemor Budd's private car on the
rear of #16. We had a stop at Novata and on starting up, pulled a drawhead out on the rear of a car
in the middle of the train. We set this car out and proceeded. At Millers Station we took on another
engtne at the rear of the tratn. From there we had a three mile run for the San Rafael htll which has
a horseshoe curve that extends nearly to the tunnel and the Summit.
The moon was full and just comtng over the htlls when the tratn came to the horseshoe at the
bottom. I was in the baggage car next to the two head engines. By the time the tratn was half
around the horseshoe curve, every car was on a curve. The two locomottves on the head end and
the one on the rear were dotng their best, thetr exhausts crackling like machtne guns. At each
revolutton you could feel the urge behind each exhaust, the mtght dtvers were bittng into the ratls
with bulldog grips, never hesitating, never slipping.
We were soon through the tunnel and over the hump, dropping into San Rafael. I was
mtghty happy when I looked back and saw the green lights on the mar car blinking in the distance.
The worst was over and we were nearly home. I hope then that I might not be called to go through
another day as strenuous as this one. The Super never said anything to me about the day's work.
I was called to the Sebastopol Branch for relief on several occasions, but never stayed very
long. The same with the Guerneville Branch. Thts branch was once very profitable when the
Redwood tndustry was at its height. From this sectton of forest, one tree furntshed enough lumber to
build the First Baptist Church in the City of Santa Rosa. The tracks on this branch were crooked and
never well kept. Every time I was sent over there tt was in the winter, usually cold and foggy. The
 30

locomotive power always was the smallest engines on the line and the crews were men that did not
care to raise any higher in the business.
I was called into Tiburon several times to run Sunday Excursions to Ukiah. The People that
patronized these Excursions were, as a general rule, a little better class morally than those that went
on the Picnics nearer San Francisco. The round trip fare to Ukiah was $2.00, whereas the regular
fare, one way was $4.50. These Excursions were never very well patronized, seldom more than one
train would be runntng in the summer.

A Serious Accident
I was assigned the job of running a Gravel Train during April and part of May, 1895, stx
weeks tn all. This train dumped gravel from Healdsburg, where the gravel pit was, at San Rafael and
were it was needed most in that area. On an average, our train had 35 cars and the plow was placed
on the last car. Attached to tt was a wire cable that reached over 13 cars. To dump gravel from
these cars, I would cut the tratn in front of the 13 th car, attach the cable to the car in front of it and
the engine would proceed to pull the plow over these 13 cars. Thus putting the same amount of
gravel on etther side of the track. This process was repeated unttl the gravel was all dumped. With
the plow now next to the engine and the cable laid off by the stde of the track, we could pick it up
when we came back wtth another load. I would always place the car with the plow on a side track
nearest to the last dumping so that I would not have to haul it very far. My crew consisted of the two
engine men, myself and two brakemen. I was given one of the ablest engines and was told by the
Super that I could hold a passenger train out, not to exceed 5 or 6 minutes, if I could unload in that
time, but to protect myself in every instance against any other train, either regular or spectal. Thts
train operated six weeks and only held two passenger trains out, one 5 minutes and the other 6
mtnutes.
I dumped one load just alittle south of Burdells' Station and went on the siding there at 12
noon to give the crew time to eat their dtnner. When I arrtved at Petaluma, a message was waiting
for me, to the effect of, "What is the cause of the delay'?" My answer was, "If I expect to get the work
out of the men, I must give them ttme to eat." At Petaluma we tumed our engine as we had 30 miles
to go for the next load and the time was getting late.
On pulling out of the statton, the engtne was approaching itth Street, a horse and buggy came
bearing down from the east and came right up to the engtne. Seeing it could not pass, the driver
tumed tt abruptly to the right and trted to pass in front of the engine. It failed and fell on the track
and was literally cut tnto pieces. The woman on the buggy was thrown clear under the boiler of the
engtne and across the track where she struck her head agatnst a ratl of a side track, about three feet
from the track the engine was one. Her legs were cut off at the knees by the engine. The man
driving the buggy was not badly tnjured. The buggy was kicked clear of the engtne by the actton of
the driving wheel on that side. I was standtng on the 4 th or 5th car from the engine when the crash
occurred. It all happened so qutckly that it was some moments before I could realize what had
happened. Then tt all came like a thunderbolt.
The front wheels of the Pilot were off the track and it took some time to clear away the
pteces of the horse. The Section Crew was close at hand and with their asststance we were soon on
our way. The next day the whole train crew was called to testify before the Coroner's Jury. That was
the last I heard of it. When we got back to Windsor, it was too late to go out with another load, so we
stopped at Fulton for the night. This was the most serious acctdent that I had experienced stnce I
came to this Line. It took several days to adjust myself to it. 23 The engine was fired with wood and
one of the ftremen played out and we had to get another one. The engtne consumed 8 cords of two
foot wood per day. When I tumed in my report on this job, the Super complimented me a lot by
saying I had dumped more gravel than any other crew had ever done on a gravel train.

Excursion Trips Through The Summer

23 The only other time that marred the work of this train was described on page 16, paragraph one, line 12.
 31

May 2, 1895, I was given instructions, as Conductor, to run a train from Tiburon to Ukiah.
This train was a specially selected one, sponsored by the $100,000 Club of San Francisco. Among
the crowd of 100 or more was the President of our railroad line, W. A. Foster. These fellows were
out for a good ttme, and they had it. My instructions were about the same as the ones I had recetved
for a similar train on August 25, 1895, sponsored by the 'Cross Country Club" of San Francisco
They read, "Train Order #2. Engine #17 at Tiburon, run passenger special Tiburon to Uktah in
advance of Tratn #1. Meet Tratn #8, at Novato, #8 overtakes siding, pass and run in advance train
#33, when overtaken. S-12 G.H.M., Dispatcher. 13 C.B. Hopkins, Conductor. J.F. Manny,
Engineer." 24
We pulled out of Tiburon promptly on arrival of the boat and in advance of Train #1 and
made the run to Ukiah in compliance with my running orders. We arrived in Ukiah at 11:20 AM, two
hours and fifty mtnutes from Ttburon.
The manager of the party had full charge of the group and all I had to do was run the tratn,
stopping only for water. On our return we stopped at Asti 25 , where the group went into the wtnery.
When they came back out they were noisy, and put Mr. Foster on a donkey and rode him around the
yard, everyone yelling as loud as they could. We did not make any other stops and fintshed the run
in San Rafael at about 7:00 PM, where the passengers all left the train. I won't say everyone was
okay!
The next experience took place eight days before the Cross Country Club Excursion. On
Frtday, August 16th, my train, a spectal night fretght, left Fulton at 4:15 PM, headed for Tiburon.
When I arrived in San Rafael I received a letter, which I am saving for you to read later, from the
Super instructing me for the next two days and one night. Proceeding to Tiburon, we performed our
regular switching, unloaded, loaded the Freight Boat, and made up our train for the retum trip north
with 16 or 18 loaded cars. We left Tiburon at 11:00 PM, set out one car at San Rafael, proceeding
on to Millers Station, near the Orphan Asylum, where we picked up 18 S.F. stock cars and one S.F.
fruit car. 26
From Millers we scrambled along, leaving our loaded cars at their billed stations. We
arrtved at Fulton at 4:00 AM. I had ptcked up an extra brakeman at Santa Rosa to help on the stock
train. At Fulton we consulted our runntng orders, whtch read, 1' . . . continue on to Ukiah." We left
the S.F. Fruit Car at Healdsburg and arrived tn Ukiah near 7:00 AM, Saturday. Some of the stock
car doors were in bad order and had to be inspected and repatred. We fixed the doors so they would
be secure, looked over the brakes and took some of the beams down. Then we left the cars near a
gravel pile where the Section Crew could sand them before loading started.
All of this took time. It was near noon when the engine was put on the spot for a few hours
and the crew had a chance to rest a little. At 5:30 PM we began to load stock and were ready to
leave at 8:30 PM. Train No. 9 was due to arrive at Uktah at thts time, and tt was on time. We pulled
out promptly and began the long run (90 miles) to Ignacio. It took us seven hours to make the run.
We left Ignacio a few minutes after 4:00 AM for Scellville, where we put the Mock train on the siding
for the SP Crew to take on through Napa and Vallejo, Across the Straights and then on to Salinas
Valley for feedtng. We headed for our home terminal, Tiburon, arriving alittle after 7:00 AM on
Sunday. After a light breakfast, I got to bed about 10:46 AM.
I was called by a messenger with an order from the Super, saying that I must run the 11:00
AM Passenger Local to San Rafael. I was on the job when the boat came in and took the train to
Santa Rosa, but did not feel too good about it. I had occasion to go over the train once after we
passed Santa Rosa. When I dropped down into the cab of the engine I found the Engineer dozing. I
tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Wake up, old scout and pay for your lodging." He

24 The characters, "5-I2" in the order is a question, "Do you understand?' The figure "13", is the answer, "yes", with my
signature. The instructions from the Super to me in reference to the running of this train are among my railroad papers.
25 A station a little south of Cloverdale.
26 You will please note here that the stock cars meant a stock train out of Ukiah the next evening, Saturday.
 32

straightened up and smtled. Good old Jim Donahue, there was none better than he. We seldom tf
ever received any spectal credit for a tough job, that was all in the job.
Monday night, August 19, 1895, just directly followtng this experience, I was at Santa Rosa
on the last leg of our trip from Tiburon to Fulton when the Brakeman carelessly backed a
Merchandise Car off an open switch and caused some damage to the ties and the bridle bars. The
brakeman had disobeyed my orders several times tn this particular, but I got the blame." The
Engineer and I looked the track over and decided the damage was not too bad. There was never
any work to do after we left Santa Rosa, so I usually rode in the Engine. I always enjoyed it muchly,
the cool air that we passed through and the chuckle of the exhaust when the door of the firebox was
opened seemed to keep saying, "Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
On another excursion, this same fellow, George Dolen, was aboard wtth two other fellows, as
the train was unusually large. Before leavtng the Depot, I gave all the Brakemen instructtons about
havtng the train all ready tn plenty of time before we were to leave in the afternoon. They were to
clean the cars and ice and water them. I came back to the depot 30 mtnutes later. Dolen was not to
be found anywhere and the passengers were beginning to board the cars, which had not been
properly taken care of. Dolen dtd not make his appearance on the scene unttl nearly leavtng ttme
and was so drunk he could hardly walk. I took htm to the back of the platform and told htm to stay
there and if I caught him anywhere else I would put him off at the first statton. When I made my
report to the Super, I told him of Dolen's condition and that I did not want him as a Brakeman
anymore if there was anyone else available. Dolen seldom worked on my trains after that.
During the summer months of 1895, the railroad company sent me out with an excursion
train carrying the Butchers' Union members of San Francisco, around 500 strong. This crowd was
the toughest bunch of humanity. Them dtd not seem to be any regard for morals or respect for the
women passengers as well. Them was a scrap on among the passengers, both men and women, all
the way out in the afternoon. When the train arrived in Tiburon there were many that had to be
carried aboard the boat. I have been around some pretty hard crowds, but I truly belteve this was the
limit. This excursion was run over the Sonoma Branch to Glen Ellen. None of the towns along the
line cared too much to have these tough crowds dumped on them as they did more harm than good.
This same summer, the Candy Makers Union of San Francisco pulled off a picnic one
Sunday, at Schutzen Park. 28 This park is about one and a half miles south of San Rafael and costs
only 25 cents, round trtp from San Francisco. I had been called tn from the Gravel Train to assist
the local men in handling the crowd. The Candy Makers Union was one of the largest in the city and
we esttmated there were 10,000 people there that day. Every boat that came over was loaded to
capacity. By 1:00 PM, the crowd was on the job, full strong.
There was a platform at least 300 feet long by the track, probably 40 feet wide, on whtch
there was a telegraph booth, about 6 feet square, used for dispatching trains out for the boat
returning to the city. By 4:00 PM, this crowd was getting pretty htlarious and plumb out of control.
Many of them were ready to go home. The tratns would drop down to the Park one after the other,
with 8 to 10 cars each, load up and depart for Ttburon. The platform was completely filled with a
seething mob of people clamortng to board the trains. The operator in the booth was kept busy with
tratn orders from the Dtspatchers Office. All of a sudden, the crowd swayed agatnst the booth and
over it went and down the bank about 10 or 12 feet. By 6:30 PM, we had all the crowd cleaned up.
We were a satisfied bunch that all was well with our crews.
The Ratlroad Company had on its time table a regularly scheduled train called the Santa
Rosa Spectal, Sundays only. This train left Tiburon at 9:00 AM and was due in Santa Rosa at 11:00
AM. It was always well-equipped and pretty speedy, usually carrying five to seven cars. This train
was taken to San Rafael with one crew and there changed to another crew and a faster engtne. In
making thts change, the Brakeman forgot to cut in the air when he coupled the engine. This gave

27 You can read the letter I received from the Super, but I certainly gave the Super a fill about my Brakeman!
28 These picnics were all spousored by the Unions and any damage to the railroad property such as broken windows, doors,
seats, etc, was always paid for by the Unions.
 33

him air only in the engine. The train had a helper out of San Rafael and through the tunnel. The
helper cut loose and the train drifted on down the north side, around the horseshoe curve, down to
the level marshland and about two miles from the drawbridge at the brickyard. Of course the train
picked up some extra speed coming down the grade and there was plenty of time and distance to
bring it under control. But the Engineer did not know he had no Air on the Train until he rounded the
curve and saw the Draw Bridge open. When he at once applied the air, which naturally took some
effect and he thought the next application would bring the desired effect. It didn't and he was
approaching the Bridge very fast. He then put the Air Valve Lever in the big hole, there was no
chance now to avotd dtsaster. The Engineer went out on his side and the Fireman on his side just in
time to see the Engtne plunge into the Slough. The Pilot was buried in the mud and water, but the
Engine still hanging to the Tender which was sttll on the track. Fortunately, no one was hurt but there
was a good job left for the wrecking crew. I had been the extra Brakeman on this Train several times
before and would have been on it thts day had I not applted for and received a weekend off. I was tn
Ukiah as Mama and I were married then and I went home as often as I could. I am conftdent this
would not have happened if I had bee on that job that Sunday.
During this summer, while I was running the Fulton-Tiburon special night freight train, I had
another interesting experience. We had completed the run and had unloaded and loaded the freight
boat and were standing on the steamer track, waiting for the arrival of the "Owl" freight train. IT was
about 10 or 10:30 PM. The Owl arrived on time and headed onto a side track, using the switch I was
to use in a few minutes. I had watched to see whether the brakeman had turned it back for the main
line, but he got off the caboose without a lantem. He did turn it back, but I did not see him do it and
supposed it was left for me to do. While all this was happening, I had been talking with the
conductor of the Owl who had gotten off the Owl as tt passed me. As soon as his train stopped, he
went on toward the head end. I turned back and gave my engineer, Jack Hyde, the back up signal.
The track was damp and slippery, it took some little time to get under motion. When he reached the
switch, off he went, engine, tender and one flat car. 29 I heard the commotion up ahead and
wondered what was the matter. On investigating I found a badly mixed up mess and a very excited
engineer. This was his first experience tn a wreck and he was sure he would be fired as he had just
recently been promoted to engineer.
No one was hurt, for which I was thankful. I tried to reason with Jack that he was not
responsible for the trouble, but it was I that would have to explatn, since I had gtven the backup
signal. He was not supposed to know if the switches were turned. Things looked rather blue for a
spell, my engine was perfectly helpless, all 8 wheels off the ground and 16 loaded box cars and one
flat car all between it and any kind of help. It was now 11:00PM, and my only hope was to get the
Owl's engine, the heavtest on the ltne, and was now at the other end of the yard. I went after it at
once and found the Owl's engine with one pilot wheel off the track at the scales switch. This engtne
was the sole help, as it blocked the swttch that led from the Round House where the spare engtne
was housed. All attention now centered on getting the Owl back on track. This took until 1:00 AM.
We turned it north where my small engine was. We went after it wtth full force, getting it back on
track by 5:30 AM. After a thorough looking over from both engineers, it was decided safe to make
the run North. One brake beam had to be taken down, but all else seemed ok.
In the meantime I had gotten the operator out and was trying to get some kind of running
orders when the Super, who was out on the line with an extra, chipped in and told the operator to,
"Tell Hopkins to come on, he does not need orders." I said to the operator, "Give me the Supers
instructions in writing," which he did. A little after 6:00AM, I was on my way north with 16 loaded box
cars and caboose. I left one car at San Rafael and sped on to Ignacio where the Super had been
watting for hours for a clear track, but could not raise anyone. There was little time for talk, as I was
trying to make Novato for the Santa Rosa Local, which was due at Novato in 20 minutes. As I
boarded the caboose, the Super asked if I could make it to Novato against the Local. I answered,
"Yes," and we were off. On my way to Novato I wrote on a large envelop I had in my pocket all the
words as I could put together in a short time and handed tt to the Conductor of the Local at Novato

29 We always had a flat car next to the engine when serving the boat, to keep the engine off the apron. This car had 1 t
loaded box cars behind it.
 34

and asked him to give tt to the Super at Ignacio. From that morning I never heard one word about
that eventful night in Tiburon, nor was the engineer fired for hts part tn the mix-up. xi
During one of these periods, late 1895, I was acting as a relief conductor on the Sebastopol
Branch when a rather unusual acctdent occurred on another train, No. 8. The train was southbound
from Ukiah to Tiburon, about one mile north of the Asti Station, running about 40 MPH, when it broke
the parallel rod on the engineers side. The rod broke near the mtddle, and each end began to
destroy everything in reach, both up and down. As the ends would go down it would cut the end of a
tie off, if it happened to hit one. When it went up it tore away the air pump and the bottom of the cab
where the Engineer sat. The Engineer was thrown across to the Fireman's side. As quickly as he
could get on his feet, he tried to reach the air valve and the whistle to call the brakeman to the
brakes, but was thrown back again. Finally he succeeded and the train was brought to a stop. All
the moving parts on that side of the engine, from steam chest to the back driver, was taken down.
The valve in the steam chest was blocked on center and the cross head and piston blocked so they
could not move either way. The main driving rod was taken down entirely. This left the Locomotive
with only one cylinder to pull the train. After no little delay the train limped on its way. On my arrival
in Santa Rosa that momtng I received a message from the tratn dtspatcher to have my engtne ready
and exchange with Engine No. 8. This I did and later received instruction to take No. 8 to
Sebastopol on my next trip back to Santa Rosa. The crtppled engine was sent to Tiburon for repatrs.
I had a chance to inspect the crippled engine and saw the hole where the Engineers seat was. I said
to the Engineer, Phil Hyde, "Let me go over to the freight house and get a fruit box for you to sit on?
He replted, `Not on your life! I'll stand up the remainder of the run.°

A Most.Critical Period
I have now come to the most critical pertod of my short railroad expertence, which changed
my entire future. September 5 th , 1895, we had made a run from Fulton to Tiburon as usual with the
extra night freight tratn and were dotng the regular swttching on the steamer track. Some stock cars
were standing on a slight tncltne and had to be coupled. We were dotng this by hand, that ts, not
ustng an engine. I was standing between two cars, my right foot on the inside of the track, my left on
the outstde, my lantern hanging from my left wrtst. I was pushing the car in front of me with both
hands. The bottom of the lantern was casting a shadow dtrectly under the car, and I did not nottce
that the two cars were moving instead of just the one I was pushtng. As a result, the flange of the car
behind me caught my rtght heel and pushed tt down on the inside of the rail, passtng over the heel
and on up the calf of my leg, to the back of my knee. As I realtzed what was happening, I pushed my
body clear of the track. My rtght foot was caught fast and my leg above the knee was lying at rtght
angles across the rail, the htp joint felt as though tt was betng tom loose. All at once, the car bumped
against the one in front of it and the rebound from the sprtngs in the drawhead pushed the wheel
back off my leg and I pulled it out and lay flat on my back. The kneecap was out of place on up on
its edge. In a moment, the whole crew was around me, everyone excited. The hotel keeper came
running out with a full glass of whtskey and offered it to me. I told him I dtdn't want it, he said, "Go
drink it, it won't hurt you? I drank the whiskey and by that time the crew had gotten my caboose
around and the crew was ltfting me up over the rail and into it, handling me as carefully as they
would a baby. I don't remember anything until we came to the narrow gauge crossing. When the
engtneer whistled for the crossing, I remarked, "That's the narrow gauge crossing?" In a very few
minutes the engine stopped right at Aunt Emma Davis's back door and I was soon comfortably laid
on a bed upstairs and a doctor called. I don't remember much more of that ntght, nor until Mamma
came the next morning in response to the telegram sent by the Super. 31
As soon as I was able, we went to Ukiah, where I stayed until able to go back to work, about
six of seven weeks. In reporting for work again, I begged the Super to let me have the baggage car
as my future job, to which he satd, "I can't do that, but you man run the baggage in No. 8 & 9 for the

3° A speedy report to the point always brought good returns where any misunderstandings or violation of rules were in
evidence and human capacity weighed in the scales of performance.
31 See correspondence attached.
 35

winter." We stayed in Cloverdale that winter, until late spring of 1896, when the company decided to
put a train on in the Sonoma Valley to compete with the Southern Pacific Train that came through
Napa, Sonoma and Santa Rosa.
A few days before this train was to be put in operation, the Super wrote me a letter, assigning
me to the duty of conductor and giving me all the necessary instructions. 32 This was all very fine,
except I was afraid to tackle the fretght switchtng, especially in the yard where I had been hurt. He
trted to make me see that I'd get over my scare in a little while and that I'd like the job. He knew I
would ltke the run to Glen Ellen and would give the company good satisfaction. Well, I told him I dtd
not think I could do tt, however when the day came for the train to run, I was on the schedule as
conductor. The train was made up of two newly painted cars, all spick and span, a fine speedy
engine with and engineer equal to the job, a fireman and brakeman.
The two competing trains were scheduled to arrive at Schelville Junction wtthin three or four
minutes of each other, our train was due first. My train left Tiburon in advance of No. 1, wtth a clear
track to Ignacio and no stops. From Ignacio to Schelville Junction, our schedule was fast and few
stops to make. As we neared the junction, we could look over to wards Napa and see the S.P. Train
rumbling along at a speed of 50 MPH or more. When I had nothing to stop for, I always had my
engineer stop at the Station, which was about 200 ft. from the junctton crossing. This I did to prevent
any trouble in cause both trains made the crosstng at the same ttme. I did not know that I had the
right of way, and the S.P. train never made any attempt to slow down, let alone stop when passing
over our tracks. 33 In the afternoon we were several minutes ahead on arriving at the Junctton, and
was always at the Stations when the SP train passed over at a high speed. Thts went on for several
days, when one day the Super boarded my train in Glen Ellen. When we stopped at the Junctton
Station, along came the S.P train, at high speed, crossing the tracks and out of sight before we got
under way. As soon as I could, I went in and sat down by the Super. He asked me if the S.P. Trains
ever stopped at the crossings. When I told him I had no seen any of them stop, he explained the
sttuation and told me to keep a close tab on them and to also tell the agent at the Scheltvtlle Statton
to do the same and make a report to htm tn a few days. I did so, reporting in effect that no S.P.
trains stopped at the crossings The following day, the S.P.Train came to a stop before it proceeded
over the crosstng and did so as long as I remained on thts run.
The following day, I received a big, long envelop from the Super containing three letters.
One from Mr. Corbaley, our Super, thanktng me for my information, etc., and calltng my attention to
the other two letters enclosed. The second letter was from Mr. Corbaley to Mr. J. A. Filmore, Super
of the S.P. Company, Central Division, calling his attention to the stgned agreements covering the
Junction crossings. The third letter, Mr. Filmore to Mr. Corbaley, thanking him for the information on
the violatton and assuring him that the tratn crews had been notified and any further infraction of the
rules would be grounds for dtsmissal from the service. I stayed on this run only a few more days,
before betng allowed to move back to the baggage car. I was more than glad to be removed from
the freight cars. I was not assigned any other important jobs for the remainder of the year.
Sometime while I was still working for the Arcata and Mad River RR, I think during the wtnter
of 1889, we were passing though one of Humboldt County's heavy winters. It had rained for several
days and the ground was full of water. Mad Rtver was overflowtng tts banks and flooding the valley
south and west of Blue Lake. On our last trip up that afternoon, the river was over the track about a
foot deep in some places and was carrying driftwood. I had on rubber hip boots and got out and went
ahead of the engine to steer the driftwood away from the spokes of the driving wheels and the
parallel rods. The water got in to the ashpan under the firebox, but that didn't do any damage. This

32 This included why the train was being put on, how it should be conducted and, the most important part to me, that at the
end of the run, in the evening at Tiburon, there was a certain amount of freight car switching to be done.
33 In order to give you and understanding of the railroad situation in the Sonoma Valley at this time, I'll make this
explanation. The SF & NPR railroad was built into the Sonoma Valley many years before the Southern Pacific track
was laid into Santa Rosa. When the SP Company built their track to Santa Rosa, they crossed the SF&NP tracks
several times, with the agreement that both freight and passenger SP trains would come to a dead stop before passing
over the SF&NP track.
 36

low stretch was about 400 ft. long before we got on to higher ground and were soon out of any
trouble for the rest of the trip.
The flu was quite prevalent up there that winter. Wafter, my brother, was the engineer on
the train I was on and had not been feeling too good for a few days before. The morning after the
high water episode, he came down with the flu and was not able to take the train out that morning.
There were no extra engineers on tat end of the line and the fireman was not qualified to take the
engine out. I telephoned in to the Superintendent and told him what we were up against, and that I
could take the train out if he wanted me to do it. He gave me his consent, with a lot of advice, I
turned my tickets over and punch over to the brakeman and put him in charge of the back end of the
train, waybills and passengers. I took charge of the locomotive for the trip to Arcata. We made up
our tratn, which was not very large, out of Korbel, but picked up quite a few cars of lumber on the
way down. In all we had about 25 cars of lumber, 2 coaches and a baggage car. We made the run
down to Arcata in regular time, put the lumber cars on a side track, and brought the engine back to
the round house, where another engineer was ready to take charge of it. I went over to the depot,
took the train tot end of the wharf and back in time to leave Arcata for the return trip to Korbel.
Brother Walter was off duty for several days, and the rains had pretty well cleared up.
I decided to leave the railroad in early December 1896 to go into the grocery business. I put
my resignation in the 15 th of December, to take effect on the 31 ht . The Super came to me a day or
two later and talked to me like a Dutch uncle, trying to persuade me to reconsider and stay where I
was. He told me he was sure the company would do the right thtng by me when the time came, but
of course could not tell me what that would be. Our plans were pretty well made at home and I
asked for a clearance card and also a letter from the General Office, which I received. On the 31 ht of
December, 1896, I left the railroad with a fairly good record and many friends that I shall always
remember as among the best and truest I have ever known.

A New Business
My first expertence in business was launched in Ukiah in early 1893, with a young man from
Humboldt County. As equal partners, we bought a cigar store (The Mint), located in the northeast
corner of the Palace Hotel. As I was then working on the railroad and away most of the time, I had
little to do with the management of the business. My partner was a young man and had no business
experience, so it was not long before the bustness went on the rocks and I lost $350.00.
My next business venture terminated no better. I was still on the railroad, but now marrted. I
had been hurt and my wife was anxious that I leave the railroad and seek other employment. I was
easily swayed at this ttme, as I was dissatisfied wtth where I was. My wife had a very close friend, G.
A. Young, who had married the express messenger on the train that I was on. The two women put
thetr heads together to get their men off the railroad. There was a grocery store tn Ukiah who's
owner was anxious to sell. Here was a chance for the women to get their work in. Mr. Young and I
heard of very little else from then on to the end of 1898. Finally our dectston was made to quit the
railroad and enter the grocery business. Unfortunately, netther of us know anything about the
business we were about to enter. On January 1 st , 1897, we took possession of the little business at a
cost of about $750.00 apiece and 8-10 other grocery stores in competition. In the fall of 1899, Mr.
Young quit and went on the road as a travelling salesman. On April 1 ht , 1903, I advertised the
business for sale at cost In thirty days it was gone. I was out the tnitial cost six years of my life and
a $700.00 book account that could not be collected.
In 1905, about 25 years after I left school, I took a course in "Architectural Drawing and
Design" in the International Correspondence Schools at Scranton, Pennsylvania. The textbooks sent
me, together with the special instructions for each lesson, were the easiest to understand and retain
of any I had ever studied. Geometry and formulas were never easy for me to understand until I took
this course. The grammar in these lesson was much more clear and simple compared with other
text books. A correspondence course is wonderful help to anyone who had to leave school early in
life and can spare a few hours from their regular occupation.
 37

More Music
After transferring up north to Ukiah, I had also begun playing with the Ukiah Band quite
often. Now, instead of playing the coronet, I was playing the tenor horn, as I didn't have time to
practice. In 1898, I went with the Band over to Lake Port and played for a 4 91 of July celebration.
We left Ukiah about 4:00 PM on the 3 rd and arrived around 11:00 PM. The parade on the 4 th stated
around 10:00 AM and marched up and down the main street, playing at nearly every corner. After
noon we went to the Indian Show Grounds and saw the Indian War Dancers, Fire eaters and lot of
other interesting Indian features. It was so hot you could fry eggs any old place. About 4:30 PM, we
started home as it was getting cooler. We had four horses and a large stage coach and traveled
through Scotts Valley, by Blue Lakes and arrived at Ukiah about 10:30 PM.
I had now been playing with the Uktah Band for some times and had changed to the clartnet
and was making fair progress The Band was invited out to Lierlies Summer Resort, expenses paid,
to gtve a concert on a Sunday afternoon. We left Ukiah about 10:00 PM, the night before. I had
charge of the ribbons, two good horses and a good-sized coach. The route was over an ordinary
country road. The resort was were the present dam is that supplies the power for the Pottey Valley
Electric Plant, and is about 25 miles from Ukiah. The road from Potter Valley over the mountain was
narrow, steep and dangerous, the night was dark and the road was not very good I had a fine team
that knew the road as well as I did, or better. Going down the east side of the mountain, I practically
let the horses have free rein and kept my foot on the brakes. We arrived at the resort about 1:00
AM, but did not get much rest or sleep. We had a fine swim in Eel River, a wonderful dinner and
about 2:00 PM gave them a fine concert. We left around 6:00 PM and got home around 9:00 PM,
feeling as fit as fiddles after the day's cutting. This trip was around 1900.
A little later, probably 1902, we went over to Blue Lakes on a similar trip, under very much
the same conditions. We left Ukiah late Saturday evening, after all the stores were closed. The old
Hotel is still standing there, we gave our concert on the Hotel veranda. There were many people
there and the concert was well received. I have an enlarged picture of the Band that was taken a
few minutes after the concert was over. There were 18 members in the Band that day and they
rendered a fine concert. Four of this group are still living in Ukiah.
The Band was engaged to play at a celebration tn Santa Rosa, around 1904 or 1905, I don't
remember what occasion, but we were paid $100 and expenses. There was a carnival or some ktnd
of celebration pulled off at Healdsburg that we played for along about the same year and were paid
the same with expenses There was a San Francisco Band tn the Healdsburg parade that tired to -'

throw us out of ttme, but failed. We played a concert on the veranda of one of the town hotels that
afternoon. In the fall of 1904, we played for a political speech at Hopland. At the Cloverdale Citrus
Fatr in 1907, we played an afternoon concert. I had charge of the Band that day and I took Howard
with me. He was nearly two.

I Try My Hand At Carpentry

After leaving the store in 1903, and up to 1907, I did fairly well at carpenter work in Ukiah.
My first job in Uktah was on the two story school house that was built on the NW corner of the
grammar school lot. It was torn down when they built the present buildtng. I also built fourteen pairs
of stairs in Ukiah. One was in the 1.0.0.F. Annex on E. Standley Street. I worked on this building all
through the winter of 1906 —1907 and set the plate glass here and in thel9ent's Filimishings store on ✓ ('
State Street. I worked on the Pete Swanson Building, the Eversole Building, the office of the Cecile
Hotel, and straightened the Rudee building after the shake of 1906. It was 2.5 inches out of plumb.
I helped to fit it up for C. Hofmans' store. I worked on the annex to the Palace Hotel, built a pair of
stairs in the Old Methodist Church, and was foreman carpenter on the first new Methodist Church,
which was later burned. I worked several months on the Catholic Church, finished George Murk's
dwelling, built a pair of stairs in the dwelling at the Calli Grappo Winery and many other small jobs in
and around Ukiah.
But I decided that I could do better if I went to San Francisco or the Bay area as carpenters
were in big demand since the earthquake and fire of Aprtl 1906. Mama thought it was a good move
 38

also. We began to plan the move and sold most of the furniture we had bought when we first went to
house keeping. Late in July 1907, I went to the city, leaving Mamma and the baby in Ukiah until I
could get definitely settled. I worked on many dwellings, was the foreman carpenter on one finishing
job, worked on some dtsplay booths in Idora Park, Oakland and in the J.H. Hink Dry Goods Store on
Shattuck Avenue, Berkeley.
I worked on the Humboldt Bank building and the Sheldon Building, both on Market Street, for
a month or more. San Francisco was certainly a pitiable sight! Ashes, dust and wind and a rabble of
men to work with. I live in the Planters Hotel on lower Folsome Street. One evening I went over to
Market Street to see what tt looked ltke after worktng hours. I came to 3 rd and Market, looked up and
down Market, and saw only three people as far as I could see either way.
This condition dtdn't suit me and I decided to go over to Berkeley for work. I found plenty of
work and decided to stay there. I sent for Mama and we found rooms tn the home of a Methodist
minister, near Channing Way and Telegraph Avenue. It was hard to find a house to rent and
property was very expensive to buy, but we finally found a house. It was two stories and secKen
rooms, priced at $6500.00, $750.00 down and $50.00 per month, including interest and principle.
This was in the winter of 1908, and ttmes were pretty hard. I didn't favor buying the place, but Mama
was anxious to have a home and get settled. I was afraid I could not make the payments along with
our other expenses. We finally took the place and rented rooms when we could. This winter and the
following year was very depressing ttmes. Work was scarce and wages low, about $4.00 per day.
We somehow struggled through until 1909. In the summer of 1909, I butlt Aunt May Oldham's house
on Mendocino Avenue in Santa Rosa.
I played the coronet with a group of sixteen other musicians on the east stde of Shattuck
Avenue, in Berkeley. We used some of my music. Once I played with the U.C. Band. They had
some ktnd of rally, paraded around town drumming up a crowd and generally having a good time.
I sat up with a corpse for the final time, around 1909, while we were sttll ltving in Berkeley.
This elderly gentleman was the husband of the woman from whom we had bought the place on
Regent Street, Berkeley. She lived somewhere west of Shattuck Avenue. The man had been away
for some time, I think they were separated at the time he passed away. Mrs. Earley had brought his
body to Berkeley for burial and asked Mama if I would mind coming that ntght to sit up with the
corpse. I think she was alone. I went down to her house around 8:00 PM. I had worked that day and
stayed all night until 6:00 AM. Mrs. Earley prepared a lunch for me and I didn't get sleepy. I applted
the moist towel several ttmes to the face of the corpse. I have never heard of this performance
being done anywhere since that ttme.
Henrietta White was visiting us that summer, in July. The U.S. Fleet was going to enter the
harbor and make a display. We got ready and went down to the Key Route Depot in Berkeley and
boarded the train. There was such a crowd that we had to wait until three trains had come and gone
before we could get a seat. Howard was a little past three, but found a place on my shoulder. When
we arrived at the Mole, it was estimated that there were 10,000 people there waiting to get on a boat.
All this time, Howard was on my should. During the jam, several women fainted, but we kept
pushing towards the gangplank and finally made tt aboard the boat for San Franctsco. We got up on
Russian Hill about 12 Noon, just in time to see the last boat come in past Alcatraz and on up the Bay.
We rested for an hour or so, ate our lunch and then beat our way back to Berkeley, getting home late
in the day after a strenuous outing!
This story covers a very happy experience that took place on December 31at, 1909. My
cousin, Cordelta Carey, I can't recall her marrted name, and a few other friends from Eureka, were in
San Francisco to see the Old Year out and the New Year in, 1909-1910. We met these friends early
in the evening at the Ferry Building and from there proceeded up Market Street, to paint the old town
red. Looking away from the Ferry Building, up Market Street, were colored and brilliant lights shining
down on a fun-loving and happy group of people. Flags, buntings, and streamers helped supply the
color, along with the confetti made the very air seem to be filled. • Every imaginable kind of tin horn
was in evidence to supply noise, the night was perfect, just right. We walked all around and
everywhere was the same . . . singtng, blowing homs, confettt and otherwise merry-making. There
was little chance of finding a vacant seat in a restaurant or eating place.
 39

When midnight came, and whistles began to blow, the noise was deafentng for many
minutes. The great crowd soon began to move. The street cars were filled with people tired out and
ready to go home. We stayed around until about 1:30 AM, watched the crowd vanish until we had to
make our run for the last boat for Berkeley at 2:00 AM. We btd our friends a Happy New Year,
streaked tt for the boat and arrived home at about 2:45 AM on January 1 st , 1910.
 40

My Family
The early part of 1910 showed little improvement over 1909, as far as work was concerned.
The future prospects did not look too good, for along towards the first of August we had to begin
preparations for the coming of a new baby. Mama thought it was best to go up to Santa Rosa and
stay with Aunt Dora and Uncle Gene Gannon until the time for the baby, then go to the hospital in
Santa Rosa to deliver. We rented the house, I found a nice place to live and keep on with my work
in Berkeley for awhile. I thought I best to stay there unttl things settled down some. On September
8th , 1910, I boarded the S.P. Train at Oakland and went up to Santa Rosa, via Napa and Glen Ellen.
I arrived just in time to be present when our second little boy came into this big world at 11:30 AM.
He was a beautiful little Saint and everyone loved him very much. His little voice was so tiny and
sweet, he had a sweet little cooing way that Mama soon began to call him "Coo".
I went back to Berkeley that afternoon, feeling very happy that we had another beautiful baby
boy and that Mama came through the ordeal OK wtth every indication of being well agatn soon. As
soon as she felt better, she took the children, Howard was very proud of hts little brother, up to Ukiah
to live wtth her mother until I came back to Ukiah.
Late that fall, we found a house, 214 W. Perkins Street, that belonged to Aunt Lucy
McGeorge. I continued to make the payments on the other house, but each succeeding month it was
harder to do. In September, 1912, I could not make it and had to give up the property. I worked
many jobs tn town and about two years at the Mendocino State Hospital. I worked five months in
Walker Valley, did a house in Potter Valley, and was six months at Upper Lake, working for Zeno
Jones and Uncle Bona Cleveland. I think the last job I worked for pay was when Poulas remodeled
their store the last time.
We lived in the house on Perkins unttl 1915, moving then to 617 W. Clay Street. Mama had
begun teaching school again, this ttme down at the Carrol District, below Talmadge. The boys
stayed at Grandmother Cleveland's durtng the day. The summer of 1916, I worked up at the Walker
Valley Ranch, building a concrete building, coming home on the weekends.
We were still living in this house when Grandmother Cleveland passed away, November 1,
1916. My job at the Walker Ranch was completed, so I came home to stay. Mama went down to
Grandmother's home to take charge of things and soon decided we should go there to live. I was
persuaded it was not the best interest for all of us, all round. There was too much influence agatnst
me from the relatives in San Francisco. This was proved later on by letters that Mama received
from the two of the McGowan family.
For several years after this, I contrtbuted all I could to this home, at the same time living
there as almost a stranger. From 1917 to 1920, I worked at the Rolph Shtpyard at Fair Haven,
Eureka. I helped to build a powder house for the Sa_te Htghway Commtssion at Korbel, north of
Arcata. I worked on the cheese factory tn Eureka for the Californta Creamery Co., built three
dwellings in Eureka for my brother-in-law, and helped build some concrete piles over at Samoa,
Humbolt County.
During the month of April, 1921, Howard and I planted the pear orchard. When
Grandmother Cleveland had died and the estate settled, I asked Mama to give me an equal share so
we could work together. She refused, so I then decided to buy a piece of land and plant the orchard.
From the time we left Berkeley, up to 1923, I had saved $1,300.00. I borrowed another $2,000.00
from the Anniversary Lodge of Odd Fellows in Arcata, and gave them a mortgage ofMe place my
mother and father had given me there. With this amount and a little more, I bought the land on
Cherry Street, just outside the south boundary of Ukiah, at a cost of $3,500.00. I planted it in pears
and in five or six years had put $2,000 more into it, taking nothtng out. In 1924, we butlt the new
house, which was another blunder. We had no available cash, building material and labor was high.
The contemplated house was too big, here agatn the San Francisco influence showing itself. The
F.L. Bank took a mortgage on the place for a goodly sum of money. The interest was nearly
$1,000.00 before it was patd in 1944.
 41

A Happy Time
Here is a happy period of my life and I thtnk other members of the family enjoyed this
vacation, as well. I believe it was the summer of 1920. I was working in the shipyard at Fairhaven,
and had gone home to visit. When I was ready to go back to Eureka, we all went back in Mama's
car. Howard drove it, he was just sixteen then. We had a yo iderful trip, taking plenty of time, and
arrived in Eureka about 10:00 PM. We stayed at Aunt Julia' and Uncle Frank Stem's, as they were V -- r
away somewhere. I thtnk it was on this trip we visited the shipyard and went out on one of the shtps
that was launched that day.
The next day or so we went on a picnic up on the Mad River, taking Gwenyth Stem with us.
We saw the little Arcata Engine, fished some and Cleve caught the only fish of any size. There was
an old horse roaming around tn the pasture and Gwenyth was crazy to have us catch it so she could
have a horseback ride. We stayed there all that afternoon and night and came back to Eureka the
next day. After resting a day or so, we started back home. We had to make a long detour out of
Eureka before getting onto the highway. Before we had gone very far, Cleveland got a toothache.
When we got to Scotia, I went into the store and bought some medicine to treat the tooth. Soon he
was all right agatn. After leaving Scotia, Mama took the wheel and drove unttl we got past the
Rtchardson Grave. A big truck came along going the other way and Mama was afraid she could not
pass tt. As soon as we were past tt, she told Howard he would have to drive as she was afratd. He
drove the balance of the way home. It was very late when we got back to Ukiah. We were all ttred
but well satisfied with our vacation together. The next day I left at noon for Eureka and was reluctant
to leave my loved ones behind . . . Howard and Cleveland went to the Depot with me to say
goodbye.

Building the White House

I spent the three or four months preceding the starting of our new house in Eureka building
three dwellings for my brother-in-law, B.F. Stem. The money I earned was partly used on the Cherry
Street place and for home expenses. I was expected to do the work on the new house and at the
same time pay the expenses of the family. Whtle the work was in operation, thts was impossible, as
I had no surplus cash on hand. I went into this situation thoroughly with Mama, and I think Howard
understood the situation, too. I worked on the new house from the mtddle of August, 1924, until
April, 1925, many days putting in as much as sixteen hours. I did all the work, except two weeks that
I was stck. We hired a man for $7.00 a day to keep the job going.
In April, 1929, I was appotnted as "health offtcer by the City Council of the City of Ukiah, at
a salary or $150.00 per month. This job lasted one year, ending April 30th, 1930. It was tn 1931 or
1932 that I gave the University of Redlands a mortgage on the Cherry Street place, to cover
expenses of Howard and Cleveland for tuttton, etc. I was certatnly happy to help them through
college, however I soon found myself in a bad ftnancial way. Everyone knows what happened tn
1933. September 10th, 1932, I lost the Arcata property by foreclosure. For the followtng two years it
was imposstble to make ends meet. The University wanted their money, our home expenses were
piling up, and it was evident something drastic had to be done. September 29th, 1935, I sold the
Cherry Street property for $2,700.00, patd the University, the real estate agent, the F.L. Bank and
our back home expenses, coming out with less than $500.
The beginning of 1936 did not come in with a very promising outlook. Mama's health was
not very good. During the summer vacatton she went to San Franctsco and had an operation for
cancer. She did not tell me what was the matter, nor did she tell me she was going to the city to
have an operation. I did not know about it for several months until I heard about it from an outside
source.
I was getting along in years and not feeltng very well. It was not easy to find work. I had
planted the orchard, with Howard's help, in April of 1921 and later on pruned and cut the blight,
managtng to harvest the crop without expense to Mama. All the work I did, for the same character,
for McGowan, I charged the same as the other men recetved and was glad to get the work.
 42

McGowan always acted like he was dotng me a favor, unttl 1937, when I quit doing anything in hts
part of the orchard.

Mama Leaves Us
Mama's condition kept getting worse, but she continued teaching. It was during that summer
that she and Mrs. Busch made a trip East to visit Howard and places of interest. At the end of the
spring term of school, 1938, she gave up her school as she was unable to continue teaching. That
summer, Howard came home and went to Reno, Nevada, for a month or more. Then he came back
home for a short vtstt before he went back to Mount Hermon. Before he left, we talked at some
length about Mama's conditton. He told me then the terrible condttion she was in. A little whtle after
he left, I went up to see Dr. Abbott about Mama. He told me she could not live but a few months at
the most and that there was nothtng we could do to change the conditton. This was an awful blow. It
seemed I could not stand for her to be taken away from me after we had lived together for forty-four
years.
No matter what her life had been, she was still that satnted Christtan wife and mother to me.
I had never been intimate with other woman, never drank or gambled, nor otherwise dissipated
durtng our married life. I had tried hard to make a decent living for my family. If I had failed, it was
not because I did not try. Not long before Aunt Rachael McGowan passed away, she tried to
influence Mama to leave me and go to the courts to make me pay altmony, etc. If Rachael had
lived, I believe she would have succeeded. Mama, poor dear, I know she did not mean it, did ask
me several times to go away, but I refused because I had contributed to the labor of the house and
my youngest son was not yet of age.
The dreadful day and hour came on December 7 th , 1938, at 3:15 AM. She was so peaceful
and quiet, without a struggle as the heavenly angels bore her soul from this realm tnto that heavenly
home not made with hands. Eternally in the heavens where she is now dwelling at the right hand of
God. I don't remember how we managed for awhile. Aunt May Oldham was with us, Miss Stickley,
the nurse, stayed several days. Mrs. Busch called late in the afternoon, and Cleveland came home
that night and took charge of everything. The funeral was held Saturday afternoon in the First
Baptist Church of Ukiah, where she had been a faithful member all of her life. The service was
conducted by the Rev. L. G. Brown, our new Pastor, and Rev. Al Glass of San Francisco, a close
/ friend of my toW sons. I shall always cherish the thought that Mama was a good mother to my sons,
a perfect follower of her Lord and Master, Jesus Chrtst.
The years following 1938 have been very much blank. My two sons have been towers of
11 strength, consolation i and help to me tn my loneltness. May God in his inftntte goodness and mercy,
ever be their guide and shteld throughout their ltves and eternity. From this dreadful period, through
the years up to 1942, I lived alone in the house, with the exception of the wonderful vistts from my
stster quite often durtng the summer months. I also had ntce vistts from Cleveland when he would
be home on weekends while he was worktng around the Bay area. He took me on a wonderful trip
up to Eureka one Saturday.
On October 1 st , 1942, we leased out the home place to Warren Brown for a term of two
years, with the option of buytng if they destred. They paid $30 per month rent. When the lease
expired, Warren and Luella bought the place for $8,250.00. Mama had deeded the house to the
boys, and now they gave it over to the Browns. I had sold practtcally all my personal belongings
outside of the house. Howard and Winifred helped to pack some of Cleveland's belongings and sent
them to Santa Rosa for storage. Howard and Winifred took as many things as they could and some
were sent to Aunt Dora. Mama and I had moved many times during our married life, but none of
these bringing the heartache this one did. Howard made arrangements for me and I went to live wtth
Ted and Maymie Dowlen, 309 Clara Avenue, Ukiah, in October, 1942, where I have lived since, up
to this time, Thanksgiving, November 28 th , 1946.
I applied for Social Security Income in December, 1945. Several citizens gladly and willingly
subscribed to my character and standtng in the communtty so there was no questtoning or
tnterrogation to the answers I gave on my application. C.M. Mannon, L.H. Foster, and Clair Smith
signed the recommendation for the pension. I created a trust fund of $250 for burial purposes, which
 43

is signed by myself and Wtlliam Bromley as cashier of the Savings Bank of Mendictno. I was
permitted to have a balance in my checking account not to exceed $600. At this date, January 10 th ,
1947, there is to my credit in the that account, $544.82.
On January 1 st , 1946, I received $50 from the Social Welfare Office for the month of
January and there on out. I have received thts amount every month stnce, up to January 10 th , 1947.
The field worker came by, her annual visit, and found everything in order after I explained to her
about the gift from Bemie and my anticipated trip to Southern Califomia, and possibly buying a new
clarinet.
 44

Today
This is December 26 th , 1946, 3:30 PM. The day is cloudy and damp and none too warm. It
rained during the ntght and the ground is wet with puddles standtng around tn many places.
Last Sunday, December 22, 1946, at 11:00 AM, I attended my church for the first time in six
weeks. The program is attached. The Auditortum was warm and comfortable and there were very
few vacant seats. The Christmas Tree, standing in the northeast comer, was about 15 feet high,
beautifully decorated with dazzling decorations and vartous colored Christmas candles shintng
brightly. Each window was decorated with greens of some kind, in the mtdst of whtch stood a
Christmas candle. In front of the pulptt hung a beautiful wreath. In front of the wreath was a tall red
Chrtstmas candle, lit. The chotr loft and around the front of the pulptt towards the tree were
decorated with ferns and greens. The cross at the left shown brightly wtth red and whtte ltghts. The
Choir, composed of 13 women and 5 men, all in dark gowns and white collars, rendered several
wonderful anthems and songs. I didn't attend the Christmas program at 7:30 PM, presented by the
Sunday School., as I had not been out at night for quite a whtle on account of the weather. Brother
Brown told me there were over 400 present, more than ever before.
Tuesday night, Christmas Eve, about 9:30 PM, Maymie and I were most agreeably surprised
and entertained by a group of our Church and Sunday School members, young and old, with
beautiful Christmas carols, "Stlent Night, Holy Night° and, "0 Ltttle Town of Bethlehem". There were
25 or more that came to sing to us and wish us a Merry Chrtstmas. Ted and Jimmie were not at
home. This visit brought me back to the Christmas Eve, 1890, my last Chrtstmas with all my
tmmediate family in Arcata.
On Christmas Day, 1946, I was invited to Uncle Reuben Grant's for dinner. Present were
Uncle Reuben Grant, 87 years old, Bill Grant, hts son, Btll's wife and two daughters, Betty and Carol,
Dan and Emma Layman, Mr. Snetder, Ted, Maymie and Jtmmie Dowlen and myself. It was a very
happy gathering and all enjoyed the dinner of turkey and all the trimmings.
I received 32 beautiful Christmas cards. Lila sent me a beautiful tie, Belle Cleveland gave
me a tie, also. The Grants gave me two nice hankies, as did Maymie. Jimmte gave me a nice vest
pocket manicure set. I had planned to go to church on my birthday, December 29, but it rained.
Sunday, January 5 th , I attended Sunday School and Church services and asststed at the Communion
Table. There was a good attendance, the collecttons was $169.00 for the morning, and $40.00 for
the evening. January 8 th was prayer meeting night and a regular business meeting. It was cold and
damp, so I did not venture out.

My Financial Affairs
In summing up my financial affairs from 1910, when we came back to Ukiah to live, to 1923,
I had arrived at the following conclusion.
Grandmother Cleveland's estate was settled around about 1923, or maybe a little earlier,
and each of the heirs had received their allotted share. It was about this time that I decided I'd ltke to
have a pear orchard. This was a little while after we had planted the orchard down home, 1921. I
would have liked to have had some interest (financial) in the home place and asked Mama to give
me some definite interest so that I could feel I had something to work for. Well, she refused to listen
to my request, but did ask me to affix my name to certain legal papers when she wanted to borrow
money. Well, I'm glad I dtd that, but I wanted to have some property that I could call my own and
feel that I was getting somewhere. After I came home from the shipyard, I thought this matter over a
good deal and came to conclusions that I'd make an effort to start a pear orchard. I had only
$1300.00 in cash and I knew that would not go far toward* buying a ptece of ground for pears. I had
asked Uncle Frank Stem to see if he could find me a loan up there with the home place as security.
In 1923 he got me a loan of $2,000.00. Wtth this and the cash I had, plus $200 more, I bought the
Cherry Street place. In 1924, April, I think, I planted pears on it at a cost of about $350.00. I did
everything I could to make a go of it, but the ground was not pear land and I did not know it till I had
 45

spent over $2,000 in cash more than I had paid for the land. I had a hard ttme keeping the interest
paid on the Arcata loan. I had mortgaged the Cherry Street place to Redlands University for
$1,000.00.
When 1933 rolled around, money was worth .60 to the dollar. Work was scarce and wages
were low. Foreclosure on the Arcata property had started, so I deeded the place to the Mortgagor
and paid $250 tn interest and costs to satisfy the mortgage. About thts time, Redlands Untverstty
wanted their money. I had to sell the Cherry Street place to satisfy them. In doing so, I lost an even
$800.
The $2000 I experimented with on Cherry Street and the $1300 cash were a dead loss.
Besides, I lost the Arcata property. This loss could have been avotded and used on the home. Or tt
could have been used for Mama's operations early in her troubles and maybe saved her life, who
knows? I thtnk these figures, tf carefully gone over and put together, wtll bear out my optnton as
expressed above. I believe that thts ftnancial loss to us would have been reversed had Mama
ltstened to betnstead of the influence from San Francisco. It ts true I was the principle tn planning .-
and spending this money, but I had not close relative to advise me.

Memberships
I have recetved all the honors that my Lodge #174 can confer upon a member, and
was appointed the District Deputy Grand Master by Grand Master W.P. Slosser for the year
1916.
I have been a member of the First Baptist Church of Ukiah stnce 1940.
I was a member of Company B, 10 th Infantry Battalion, eh Brigade, Nattonal Guards
of Califomia. I was mustered out on June 18th , 1893.
I was a member of Lodge #198, of the Brotherhood of Railroad Trainmen, at San
Francisco, over a period of ten years while I was employed by the San Francisco and North
Pacific Railroad, running between Ukiah and San Francisco.