GoFundMe Fundraiser To Replace Bathsheba Sherman's Headstone Reaches its Goal

This blog post is more of an update of sorts concerning my efforts to help the Burrillville Historical Society raise funds to replace Bathsheba Sherman's headstone. 

As of yesterday, February 10, 2023, we have now reached and surpassed our goal!!

I want to thank everyone that was involved in donating towards this cause and I want to list everyone by name at the bottom of this list. I cannot begin to thank everyone enough for this generosity of contributing to and in some cases just sharing the link. With everyone's help we have reached that goal and now Bathsheba will get the headstone she so deserves, so that she can now rest in peace alongside her family, as she had always done before the nightmare of vandalism plagued her poor stone, because of "The Conjuring."

I am not one to shy away from speaking my mind, even if it ruffles a few feathers, and I won't be tiptoeing around this either. Plain and simple, the film "The Conjuring" brought a lot of attention to Burrillville, the Old Arnold Estate on Roundtop Road but especially to the grave of Bathsheba Sherman located at the Riverside Cemetery in Harrisville. In turn, that bad publicity influenced others to deface and vandalize Bathsheba's final resting place because they believed the lies perpetuated in the movie. In turn television shows, YouTube & TikTok videos, blogs and countless other means of social media posts then began to spread like wildfire continuing to share this false history concerning Bathsheba, only further sullying her reputation and defaming her character posthumously. 

But we cannot lay all the blame on the movie or social media posts, we have to go all the way back to the people who first started the erroneous rumors concerning Bathsheba. Who were those people?  Well, someone plucked Bathsheba's name out of thin air and attached it to this sinister entity that the Perron's claimed was terrorizing them at their home. But who was the one who started it all? 

Whether you want to lay blame on the Perron family or the Warrens is not for me to say.  I cannot point the finger at one person and say for certain which one it was who started it. Did Lorraine Warren come up with the name while strolling by the cemetery? Or was it Carolyn who saw the name on a walk one day? We will never know, because we were not there. 

Bathsheba had nothing to do with the house in any way, and like I have proven in my blogs and my book, "Stories of the Forgotten: Infamous, Famous & Unremembered," Bathsheba was never accused of any wrongdoing in her lifetime. She was not a witch, not a murderer, not a bad person. She did not hang herself on the property either, as the film portrays. Like I mentioned, the people who created the movie got their information from somewhere, and those people are to blame for the slander done to Bathsheba over the years. That is a fact. 

But one thing is for certain, there was no Mr. McKeachern and there were no rumors about Bathsheba prior to Earl Kenyon's passing, which was when the house was later sold to the Perron family.  You do the math. It's just plain common sense. The stories started AFTER Mr. Kenyon's death and subsequent selling of the Arnold farmhouse in the 1970's.

The unfortunate thing in all of this is that those people who continued to perpetuate the false narrative surrounding Bathsheba did nothing to right these wrongs over all of these years. They could have made an attempt to do so, they could have even started a fundraiser like I did, to help replace her headstone years ago. Still, nothing was done. 

As I stated in a previous blog, I had reached out to many people in "paranormal celebrity" circles in the past 2 years, and only a handful responded and only a very few donated, but those who did I am forever grateful for that. 

When I was first interested in helping Betty at the historical society I wanted to see if any groups such as the Masons, Odd Fellows and the Eagle or Boy Scouts would be interested in donating their time to restore her headstone. I reached out to all of those groups and never got a response. I reached out to a few stone workers asking if they would be willing to help with the stonework for her headstone and again, I received no reply.  The GoFundMe proved to be the only means to draw enough attention and response to promote this effort.

I am glad to announce that we have now reached our goal and the headstone will be replaced once and for all. The biggest donation that helped us meet the mark was made by the new owner of the Richardson-Arnold house on Roundtop Road, Jacqueline Nunez. Her very generous donation helped us reach and surpass the amount needed to fulfill this goal. I reached out to her yesterday and thanked her personally for doing that. She also made a post on Facebook to reiterate that Bathsheba had nothing to do with the house, she was NOT a witch and was NOT a murderer and for people to leave her grave alone. That was very much appreciated as well.

For the record, although I do not agree with Richardson-Arnold house (a.k.a. The Conjuring House) being a tourist attraction for ghost tours, I do appreciate Mrs. Nunez's help in righting a wrong that was done to Bathsheba. As one of my friends pointed out yesterday, "Just think, this whole time the Warrens Legacy Foundation, NESPR, Tony Spera or any of the Perrons could have done what she just did, but they chose not to."  And that is absolutely right. So, I truly appreciate the donation that Jacqueline made yesterday. 

Just think, out of all the people who have made a fortune off of this "Conjuring" franchise, be it through the film, books or televisions programs related to the home, out of all those people, only one person, who by the way is only recently affiliated with this property, chose to get involved. That speaks volumes about who is sincerely interested in setting the record straight, and who may "talk the talk," but their actions (or lack thereof) proved the opposite. Jacqueline's actions showed she actually cared enough about the situation to help us, help Bathsheba.

I have been promoting this fundraiser all over the internet since 2021, I have reached out to countless people within the paranormal field and in reality it was just regular people who took the time to donate and share to help Bathsheba. It wasn't a bunch of paranormal celebrities, it was just regular people who read about what happened and wanted to help any way that they could. And for that I am forever grateful.

I hope that moving forward this begins the new chapter, with the tide turning in favor of spreading the truth about Bathsheba far and wide, so that she will no longer be portrayed in a bad light. She was a decent human being and deserves to be respected in death, as she was in life. She deserves that much and so much more. 

Thank you to all who helped us make this happen!  -- J'aime Rubio, Author & Historian

Also: A BIG THANK YOU to Sandy Seoane at NRINOW News: 

https://nrinow.news/2021/11/04/historian-looks-to-repair-final-resting-place-of-burrillville-woman-defamed-by-conjuring-story/

and THANK YOU to  Bella Pelletiere at The Valley Breeze:

https://www.valleybreeze.com/news/historians-wanting-to-honor-bathsheba-sherman-raise-funds-to-repair-headstone/article_60381b78-a657-11ed-9282-ab63cb3d5841.html?fbclid=IwAR3-X7BR21Al-Wq_H-fAsnf4efD74Wzub20c9nSf01Lyry9RnIblT8LnIOI

(Copyright 2/11/2023, www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Photo Credit: Kent Spottswood

Sonora's Mysterious "Red House" -- History in the Motherlode

For many years I've traveled the road through Sonora on my way up to visit Columbia State Park. My first memories of visiting that historic park was during a third grade field trip where we panned for gold, watched cowboys have a shoot out in the street, gazed upon a blacksmith making horseshoes, and where I had my very first taste of Sarsparilla. 

Another place that I recall over the years while making that trek through the gold country hills, was the sight of the big red house in Sonora, literally across the street from the big red church. I have always been drawn to its gingerbread and gabled exterior and had often wondered the history behind it. 

It has been theorized that the reason both structures, the church and the house, are painted red is because they were somehow connected, however, there's no record to prove that or not, but I have been able to track down the history of this beautiful treasure of the sierra so that the curiosity regarding this mysterious red house can be settled once and for all.

The exact date of construction is said to be "unknown," however, the approximate date is 1896. Some old timers have claimed the home was actually the Bradford-Morgan House, given the fact that Ada Bradford's father, S.S. Bradford was said to have had the home built for his daughter and her husband, Frank Wilson Street. I have yet to uncover documentation that says either way, and so just whom had the home built is still up for speculation. Nevertheless, when the home was finished, it was Ada Bradford Street and her husband, Frank Wilson Street who first lived there.

Prior the building of this majestic home, there had allegedly been a hotel on this site named "United States Hotel," that had previously burned down, was rebuilt and burned down a second time, before the structure was razed and later this exquisite Victorian home was built. 

S. S. Bradford, said to have been the person who commissioned architect Clarence Warwick Ayers to design the home, was originally a native of Maine. Ayers had also designed Bradford's home and the Curtin House in Sonora as well. 

The book, "A History of Tuolumne County," published by B.F. Alley in 1882, states this of Samuel Stillman Bradford, a.k.a. S.S. Bradford:

"Mr. Bradford is a native of the old Pine Tree State - a state that has given to California more vigorous, energetic workers and enterprising pioneers than any other section of proportionate population. His earlier years being passed in Maine, he removed westward, coming to California in the year 1850, and spent a few years in mining in various portions of this county, notably at Rattlesnake Creek, Big Oak Flat, etc. His travels led eastward again and we find him somewhat later in Maine, where he resided for several years, coming back to California in 1858 and spending a portion of the ensuing years in Columbia, but coming to Sonora in 1867, where he has resided ever since and has become an influential and most valued citizen.

Mr. Bradford has been identified with the lumber trade for many years, in which his business principles have met a suitable reward. He has been owner, in part, of the largest sawmill in the county, situated some fifteen miles east of Sonora. He has met discouragements, such as losses by fire, with the most becoming courage, always rising superior to calamity. At the present time, his business is connected with a steam planing mill in Sonora, where he manufactures all kinds of moldings, etc., does mill work in all its branches, makes sash, doors, blinds, boxes and numerous other articles and conducts a huge trade in lumber, his business extending over the entire county. Mr. Bradford married Miss Nancy P. Davis in 1849, their children being Alice (now Mrs. Street), Aida H. (wife of Frank Street, Esq.) and William Frederick, at present a student in the University of California." -- pages 397-398

Again, rumor has it that S.S. Bradford had the home built for Aida (or Ada) and her husband Frank Street. But that's basically it, a rumor. Or is it? 

According to a news clipping dated January 23, 1980, in a now defunct publication known as the Ione Valley Echo, the home was known even then as the Bradford-Morgan house, and it was being decorated in the Victorian era furnishings for special tours at that time. The point is, there must be some credence to the story, if going back a good 40 years in documentation the historians showing the home back then knew Bradford had some hand in the home's history.

Going back to the subject, Ada and Frank married on May 24, 1881 according to the May 30, 1881 edition of the Stockton Independent. The two were wed at S.S. Bradford's home with the Reverend A.J. Sturtevant officiating the ceremony.  The two went on to have three sons, Frank Jr., Clarence and Horace. Two of their children did not survive past their first birthdays. The only one of the children to grow up to be an adult was Horace, who went on to be a lawyer just like his father, Frank.

Frank Wilson Street, the patriarch of his family, was born in Illinois back in 1854. His father, Marvin Street was a very successful merchant who had stores in Illinois, New York and Arkansas. Unfortunately, Frank experienced loss early in his life. His father passed away in 1869, when Frank was only approximately 15 years old. Even earlier, his older brother, Harlow, whom I am sure Frank more than likely looked up to, was killed when Frank was only 9 years old, during the Civil War in Memphis, Tennessee on February 8, 1863. 

After the death of his father, Frank promised his mother, Elizabeth that he would always take care of her, and so, she traveled with him years later when they set out to make the long journey to California to settle in Tuolumne County where they had relatives. And so the story began for Frank and his family there in the Motherlode where he became a lawyer and ran a very successful law firm with his cousin Charles, married his beloved Ada, had three sons, and lived in that exquisite home on the hill in Sonora. 

The story didn't end there for them though. No, Frank and his son, Horace decided that the Motherlode wasn't their final chapter in life. And so, they moved the family to the bay area of the Oakland hills to start their own firm, "Street and Street," where they remained until Frank passed away at the age of 80 years, in 1935. He is buried at one of my favorite cemeteries, Mountain View Cemetery in Oakland, California.

So what happened to the house in Sonora?

Well, at some point after the Streets moved away, the Morgan family purchased the house and truly made it their home.  

A New Chapter

Frank Albert Morgan was born on February 25, 1869 in Tuolumne County. His father, George was a mason, a saloon keeper and a hotel keeper in Columbia within the years he is listed on the Census. Frank grew up to become a traveling salesman for Sperry Flour, which was located in Stockton near the waterfront area. Morgan was the agent for Tuolumne County and over the years he is mentioned in the newspapers for his important role in the gold country. In his later years he was a life insurance agent.

Frank married Ora Moss, who was only 21 years old, on July 5, 1891, in Sonora. The couple had one son that I could find, Raymond Ritchie Morgan, on September 2, 1895. Frank's success in his work led him to purchasing a duplex on Haste Street in Berkeley.  I am not sure if that was their vacation home part of the time, or if it was a rental for investment property income.

Ora Moss Morgan and her husband, Frank were what you could consider "socialites" in one way or another, since they had a pretty significant circle of friends. In fact, in March of 1920, they hosted a huge party with friends coming up and staying from all over. They were also guests of  "Tom Mix's Company" at the Victoria Hotel (which was the Sonora Inn).  Tom Mix was one of the first Cowboy film stars in motion pictures, appearing in 291 films in his lifetime. 

In 1933, Frank passed away. Ora remained owner of both homes in Sonora and Berkeley, eventually selling the bay area home. 

Over the years, Ora began writing in journals. Whether it was originally meant to be a form of cathartic relief, she was quite a talented scribe, who penned her memories of earlier days in the gold country. I have read quite a bit of her work, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Her son, Raymond must have inherited the writing bug as well, because he grew up and headed down to Los Angeles where he began his writing career for radio shows. In fact, he co-created a radio show called, "Chandu the Magician," which did so well, a film was created for the Hollywood with Bela Lugosi starring as the villain. Ora kept a large collection of her recollections of Sonora history including photography of the area which has been preserved after her passing in 1956.

In 1959, Ora Moss Morgan's writings were published titled, "Gold Dust: A Compilation of the Writings of Ora Moss Morgan, Sonora, California 1933-1950."

According to Tom Slaght, who wrote to me recently on my website:

"My grandparents, George and Valora Rombaugh were the owners in the late 50s and 60s. My Gram moved her donut shop to the house after they purchased it. She had been in two other locations in Sonora before moving it to a portion of the down stairs. They used a portion of the downstairs as their living quarters. Eventually they rented a couple of the upstairs rooms. My grandfather was a carpenter by trade. I spent several summers with him doing foundation work, remodeling, and painting. It took us most of one summer to paint the side facing Sonora High. Virgil Gunter purchased the house from my Gram for $15,000 and 160 acres of forest land."

As mentioned above in Tom's story, the home eventually became a bakery and ice cream parlor in the 1960's. According to some residents that contributed their memories on a post about the home on Facebook, there were a lot of people who had great memories of going there after school to get ice cream or a baked good at the house. 

Virgil Gunter, a very popular realtor in Sonora bought the building between the late 1960's -or early 1970's and that his office was also painted the same red color. Perhaps Mr. Gunter was the one who painted it?

In the 1980's the house became an attorney's office, for James Boscoe, Esq., and today, the house is a dentist office for Dr. Ron Rankin, D.D.S.

Conclusion

This home was loved and cherished by many people over the years since the day it was constructed. It has served many purposes and yet, it still stands beautiful and majestic, even if some people do not care for the red color.  Personally, I adore this home, and I think the fact it is the "Red House" in Sonora it gives it character. I also have to wonder if whomever it was who chose to paint it red was inspired by the 1947 film, "The Red House," which was actually filmed in Sonora and Columbia. 

The movie starred Rory Calhoun, Julie London and Edward G. Robinson. I have always loved that movie, and again, something tells me someone who watched that film wanted to keep Sonora on the map and what better way to do so than to make a real-life "Red House," in the motherlode that people would see when they drove through town? Well, that's my opinion of course. Feel free to come to your own conclusions. 

Whenever I drive past this house it is usually the fall months or the summer months, but my favorite time of year is in October when the leaves are falling, the trees are all different colors, the smoke from the chimneys fills the air, pumpkins stacked on porches and the colors of autumn with all its splendor are everywhere.

Ora Moss Morgan wrote a beautiful memory that reminds me of her, possibly sitting on the porch of that house penning her thoughts during that lovely time of year, and I couldn't end this post without sharing her words with you. It speaks of better days and her memories of times long passed. Something that is but a memory today, but one that you can close your eyes and see, even if only in your imagination. 

-- 

"October days – tawny with sunshine and purple – the odor of burning leaves – how just this little thing awakens memories of childhood days – raking and burning leaves in all the yards in the old neighborhood – the air thick with smoke – it was on Saturday and the children helped.

How we loved the crackle and rustle of the leaves as we scuffed through them – playing games by burrowing into tunnels of leaves piled high – brown, red, yellow – we played we had dresses in all the shades and were grown up ladies – then a cloud appeared and suddenly a few rain-drops – we lifted our little faces, the soft drops pattering down – how fresh the air seemed and what a fragrance – the first fall rain........Our parents had never heard the word “depression”, nor “income tax” nor the “high cost of living”. To talk of the “new deal” and the WPA’s and the NRA’s and XYZ’s would have made their poor heads swim with bewilderment. But – they did know honesty and sincerity – home and happiness, after all, the best things in life.

I remember the October sunsets from the old home porch – the landscape fairly ablaze with the crimson rays as the sun sank behind the hills – and "the dewey blue of twilight grew, to purple with a star or two." And the moon – how big and round and red it used to look – but when high in the sky it flooded the world with a silvery glow. I can remember how we used to make a wish and say a verse for the first full moon – dear me – we wished on the daisies and blew hard on the fluffy dandelion balls and were sure our wish would come true – and maybe it did."---  Ora Moss Morgan 

("Gold Dust: A Compilation of the Writings of Ora Moss Morgan, Sonora, California 1933-1950.")

---

HAPPY HISTORY HUNTING!! 

Copyright 2022 - J'aime Rubio www.jaimerubiowriter.com

A BIG THANK YOU to TOM SLAGHT for the added information. 

DISCLAIMER:  Snippets of Ora Moss Morgan's writing was used exclusively under the FAIR USE law for educational purposes only. 

Sources:

Census, Marriage, Death Records, California,

Various newspaper clippings,

Find-a-grave, 

 "A History of Tuolumne County," published by B.F. Alley

"Gold Dust: A Compilation of the Writings of Ora Moss Morgan, Sonora, California 1933-1950." - by Ora Moss Morgan

Hidden Histories - 12 & 14 Water Street, Jackson, California

Over the years I have researched and written about various people and places in the past. I have done a tremendous amount of research in Amador County specifically, since I have lived there at different times in my life, and some of my family still live there. Around the same time that I was researching the history of the National Hotel for my upcoming book, "Historic Haunts," I was contacted by the proprietress of the antique shop literally next door to the National Hotel. 

After speaking with the her, she asked me if I knew any of the history of her building, 12 Water Street as well. Unfortunately, at the time I didn't, but I assured her that I would look into it and get back to her as soon as I could.  Well, after thorough research I am now able to share some of the hidden history of the brick edifice that is adjacent to National Hotel in Jackson, California.

Image  (1)  Louisiana House & Maujer Store
  (Amador County Archives)   

Between 1853 and 1854 a one-story wooden structure with a billboard design on top that read "Maujer," an advertising design often referred to as a western false-front, was constructed for Daniel Maujer's storefront. (Imaged 1).

Maujer was partner's with Amos Barrett, who operated Barrett & Co., and who was the first Wells Fargo agent operating an office in Jackson, out of that store. It wasn't until later on that the Wells Fargo office operated out of the Odd Fellows Hall.

Sadly, on August 2, 1855, Amos Barrett committed suicide in his room at Wilson's Exchange in San Francisco. 

"Suicide - A man by the name of Amos Barrett, committed suicide at Wilson's Exchange, on Friday last. It appears he took a room on Thursday night, and was not seen again alive. The fact of his room being locked all the tie gave rise to suspicions which induced the proprietor of the house to force the door, when he was found dead.

Wilson's Exchange, S.F. (CA Library)

The deceased came to this State in 1849, and since that time has been engaged in mercantile pursuits, and for the last four years has resided at Jackson.  Amador County, where he was for a long time the agent of Wells, Fargo & Co.  The motive which induced him to the commission of the rash act seems to have been an over sensitiveness in regard to the pecuniary transactions and mercantile probity.

On the back of a letter, directed to Messrs. Wilcox & Chase, San Francisco, giving them directions as to the disposal of his property, was the following, which was signed by him:

"J.A. Kew, editor, is the cause of all this, and he ought to have known it. He will meet his reward. If all my creditors, and I was aware of it, would wait patiently, and give me time, I would not commit this rash act -- but they will or would not. -- Barrett"

A letter, written in a somewhat detached and incoherent style, was also found, which was addressed to his mother, brothers and sisters, and another gentleman in Jackson. He states that $3,000 would relieve him entirely from all pecuniary embarrassments, and also states that his property is amply sufficient to pay all his debts.

The deceased was unmarried, about 36 years of age, and a native of Long Island, N.Y., where he formerly carried on business. He also did business as a merchant in 1839-46, in Elizabethtown, Essex Co., N.Y.  He was always esteemed to be an honest, though somewhat close man in his dealings."-- Nevada Journal, August 10, 1855.

According to the Amador Ledger Dispatch, dated January 25, 1901, it states:

"Daniel Maujer was a Frenchman and was associated with Amos Barrett. After the death of the latter, and their business trouble, he left Jackson and his subsequent movements seem to have been forgotten by most of those who were familiar with the county in those days."-

Interestingly enough, the book, "Jackson" by Arcadia Publishing, has some misinformation that must be noted. In the book, the names of the original owners Daniel Maujer and Amos Barrett are incorrectly stated as Amos Maujer and Daniel Barrett (page 11), which we know is factually incorrect. The only reason I am mentioning this, is so that others who wish to research these gentleman will be able to search via their correct names, as I have stated within this blog post. 

After Barrett and Maujer were gone, the new owners of the property demolished the wooden structure and opted for a one story brick building around 1856. It is mentioned that this may have been around the time it was turned into a drug store. 

The late, great Amador County historian, Larry Cenotto mentioned in his "Walking Tour of Jackson's Historic Core" pamphlet that used to be in circulation:

"While the lower story has a faux-Western front, the top facade hasn't changed since Epley and Elderkin laid it in 1863 after the fire. Previously, in late 1853 and '54, Amos Barrett and Daniel Maujer had a store here, and Barrett began his career as Wells, Fargo & Co. Express agent. Known as Rocca's Hall, it was the long-time venue for entertainments, theatricals and even pugilistic exhibitions and fights."---

. 

The Rocca Family

Francesco "Frank" Rocca, was born around 1824 and was a native of Italy. He was considered one of the earlier settlers in Jackson, coming around the mid 1850's just in time for the tail end of the Gold Rush.

During the time that the Rocca family owned the building, 12 Water Street was inhabited by the Jackson Theatre, where they held plays and other entertainment venues, including boxing fights and athletic events. There was also a saloon and a store at the corner which was also owned by Rocca. The 1880 Census lists Frank as the "bar keeper" of his saloon. Although, the two buildings are side by side, there was also a residence in the back along the creek where the Rocca family lived. 

The newspaper from 1889, stated that the west side of the building was known as the "Theatre brick building," while the south side of the property was known as the "Frank Rocca frame dwelling house." Lastly the corner brick building was known as the "Frank Rocca grocery store and bar brick building."

According to Larry Cenotto's research, Frank Rocca purchased both of the brick buildings on Water Street around 1859. You see, at the time all of that was considered one giant property. It was known as Lot 13, Block 3.  The upper level of the corner building at 14 Water Street was sold to the Masonic Lodge after the great fire of 1862, and that part of the building was rented out to the County while they were rebuilding a new court house. By 1864, the Masons went back to the upper levels of the brick building when the county offices moved into their new building elsewhere.

Frank Rocca owned the downstairs of both buildings, and the upstairs of 12 Water Street, (as well as his house). While he was alive he ran the Jackson Theatre for many years, and was well known within the community. 

The Death of Frank Rocca 

In the wee hours of Thursday, November 25th (night of the 24th) which also happened to be Thanksgiving, Frank Rocca had a terrible accident at his home in the residence which was located behind the brick building on Water Street/Broadway.  The newspapers originally published that he had fallen from the back porch balcony of his residence into the creek behind the buildings and that he had busted up his nose and scratched up his face. Unfortunately, Frank Rocca didn't walk away from that fall that easily. The newspaper dated, December 3, 1887 explains more:

"Mr. Francesco Rocco [SIC], one of our pioneer residents, and proprietor of the Jackson theatre, died in this place last Tuesday night, from the effects of injuries received by a fall from the back porch of his building on Thanksgiving night. It was at first thought that he was not dangerously hurt, but he never entirely recovered  from the shock. He was a native of Italy and about 60 years of age. He leaves a family and many warm friends to mourn his loss. He was buried on Thursday afternoon by the Masonic fraternity, of which he was a member of long standing."  - The Amador Dispatch 

Mr. Rocca was buried at St. Patrick's Cemetery in Jackson, just off of Church Street. Although Mr. Rocca's grave states he died on the 25th of November, the newspapers claimed it wasn't until Tuesday, the 29th when he succumbed to his injuries. The newspaper also published several ads that ran continually for quite some time shortly after his death, announcing the theatre and parts of the building itself were up for sale. 

Dispatch, 1/21/1888

Literally the same week that the patriarch of the family, Frank Rocca passed away, the Levy family, from S. Levy & Co. opened a new store at the location on the corner at 14 Water Street. They obviously were renting out the space, as the property still belonged to the Rocca family at the time.

Dispatch, 1/21/1888

The city had also just put in a v-shape sewer line that ran from the front of the building to the back and into the creek, to clear away all the nasty water which would form unsavory "mud puddles" just outside the Theatre. This new development was also mentioned in the newspaper.

After the death of Frank, the Rocca family were intent on selling the bottom level corner building (14 Water Street) as well as the Theatre. The ad appeared in the Dispatch in February 2, 1889, when Attorney's Lindley & Spagnoli who represented the estate of Frank Rocca c/o Carrie Deletis (his widow) published the notice.

It appears though that the family kept their home in the back, as the 1910 Census shows that Victor remained living with his mother Carrie at the house on Broadway (behind the brick building), and Victor is the proprietor of a saloon. Victor eventually left bar keeping and went on to work next door at the National Hotel as a clerk for many years. His WWI draft cards listed him as working at the National hotel in 1917 and he continued to work there well up into the 1930s. Victor Rocca eventually passed away in 1934. 

According to the newspapers, by 1913, the property at 12 Water Street was being used for a restaurant and lodging rooms under the business name Home Restaurant & Lodgings.  On the evening of June 17, 1913, a gentleman by the name of Tom Belenchia, 45, from Mokelume Hill, went to his room and never came back. He had been working in the hayfields at J.A. Laughton's property just outside of town. Laughton had hired workers for the job, and most of the men were lodging at the same establishment. When the men all came back, everyone went to the restaurant for supper, except for Tom.  When one of his friends realized he had never came down to eat, he went to check up on him and found he was very sick. They called for the doctor, but it was too late. He died in his bedroom in the building. According to the newspaper, he died from "gasses forming in the stomach and stopping the action of the heart."- 

So far, Frank Rocca and Tom Belechnia are the only two deaths I have found that took place on the property, but there could be others. I will continue to keep searching the archives for more hidden history on this location. According to my sources, the Masons eventually purchased both buildings (upstairs and down).

12 Water Street, Jackson

Moving forward, as the years went by, the lower level of the buildings at 12 & 14 Water Street hosted business after business, store after store. People came and people went, and like all businesses eventually do, many closed forever, while others began anew. 

Sometime around the mid-to-late 1940's a lady name Clara Ericson opened a bar/restaurant called "The Klondike," in this location. She later sold the business to Guido Tofanelli in 1951, who had returned from the Richmond Shipyards after working there for several years around the end of  World War II.  

Guido, or "Guy" as everyone knew him by, would later become Jackson's Chief of Police. Guy ran the bar with his brother, Steve Tofanelli, who was considered a "silent" partner. Guy also opened a boxing gym in Jackson. Was the boxing gym here at this location, given it's past history as an athletic/boxing location? Or was it on the third floor of the Krabbenhoft Building, which is where the present day Hein & Co. Book Store is located? I haven't been able to answer that question just yet.

Newspapers accounts show that at one point during the late 1950's when the State was cracking down on prostitution, the Klondike found itself in hot water, when it was discovered that the club was "allegedly" being used as a front for "John's" to be "pointed in the right direction" to one of the cat houses located at another building downtown (not 315 N Main Street, as some have insinuated, that house has never been a brothel despite the claims.).

By the 1960's the brick building was home to a store called the "Westerner," and I still remember an old stationary store at the corner building (14 Water Street). 

So many amazing events happened here at these two brick buildings and so much hidden history has been discovered!

Now, this property at 12 Water Street is home to an amazing antique store, and the proprietress has taken an interest in preserving the history of this building, which I am sure the Rocca family would have appreciated so very much. I hope that her business continues on into the future and that the history within its walls continues to be shared for others earnestly looking for it.

I hope that you enjoyed learning a little bit more about the history of this property, and because I am still researching the history of this amazing property, hopefully soon I will be able to add more to this blog as I intend to chronicle as many establishments and events that took place at those two buildings.

Thank you for taking this trip with me down Water Street in Jackson! 

Happy History Hunting!

(Copyright 2022- J'aime Rubio  www.jaimerubiowriter.com) 

The History of Hangtown - Fact vs. Fiction

Archived Photo "Hangtown"- Placerville, Ca

So, lately there has been some commotion about the origins of the name "Hangtown," which was a nickname given to the town during the Gold Rush. There's even a sign in the heart of old Placerville that commemorates Placerville's earlier namesake, as well as an old dummy hanging from a noose in front of a local business in downtown Placerville where the historic hangman's tree once stood.

This push to remove the sign originated with someone named Camille Lloyd who started a petition on Change.org to asking (or demanding) that City Council remove the "Welcome to Placerville "Old Hangtown" sign because as she claims, "This moniker glorifies and celebrates a violent and racist history......The name "Hangtown" is outdated and offensive, and suggests that racial hate crimes are acceptable." Oh there's more. Then she has to mention George Floyd's recent death, which by the way, I didn't know he had anything to do with a gold rush town in Northern California, when his death took place in Minnesota, but hey, she just throws that one in there for good measure. The problem with Ms. Lloyd's petition is that none of her accusations are based on facts relating to Placerville history.

Well, I am here to set some things straight, since I am firm believer in FACTS. Just because you want something to be so, doesn't mean that it is. Just because you claim something is one way, unless you have cited sources and facts to back up your claim, then you might as well be trying to sell us a fairy tale. Do you still believe in Santa Claus, too Ms. Lloyd?

But this push to change, edit or downright erase history isn't new. In fact, I see it a lot these days. In my line of work, I have been seeing this happening for many years now. It's just that in the past 10 years or so, I have been seeing it at a more accelerated rate.

For one, if you do research in any area within California, you might notice every once in a while a person will pop up basically out of the blue claiming some event, person or landmark in that particular area was racist.  The person will try to push their "history" and even do so very adamantly, to the point that many people will actually believe it. They will demand something be changed, some money donated or some marker to be erected to force their side of history, but, when you actually look into their "research" you will see that they cite no sources, or refuse to cite them when you request to see their sources. That is a huge red flag. They push downright false stories that they have absolutely no records to back up their claims which are completely fabricated stories, and still they seem to get the media's attention to push it.

A good example, a woman a few years back was trying to change the state seal of California by claiming that California was named after a fictional black figure named Calafia. Well, I could really get into that debate on here, but I already wrote a blog about it years ago, so if you are interested in my in depth debunking of that tale, check that one out here: https://whatdoeshistorysay.blogspot.com/2014/03/the-origin-of-californias-name-setting.html

Another example was a gentleman who approached not just one news outlet, but several including the Stockton Record who all jumped on a story that a section in the Stockton Rural Cemetery was "segregated." I also proved that to be false. You can read about that here:
https://rememberingstocktonhistory.blogspot.com/2016/02/block-27-stockton-rural-cemetery.html

That very same gentleman went back to the Stockton Record again and reporter Michael Fitzgerald wrote a piece on one of the African-American pioneers buried at Stockton Rural Cemetery based on this persons "facts," taking them solely at face value, and not having him cite his sources. The story ran in the paper and was full of huge errors. Basically, there was only one or two things that were accurate in the entire piece, and the rest was completely fabricated.

When I approached Mr. Fitzgerald and asked him how he could publish false history, he admitted that he didn't ask for sources and took him at his word. After I provided him with facts to disprove his original article, he admitted that it was a mistake and would never use this person for historical content in anymore of his articles moving forward.   You can read about that, too, here: https://rememberingstocktonhistory.blogspot.com/2018/04/reverend-jeremiah-king-setting-facts.html

The point I am making here is that there is a movement to change our history going on right before our eyes. When someone isn't trying to rewrite it, they are trying to erase it all together.

Going back to Placerville:

Anyone who knows the history up here in the gold country, knows that Placerville did not lynch or hang people because of racism. Yes, once in a while you'll find a story of a Black, Hispanic or Chinese person being hanged, but you'll also find 10 times that amount of Whites hanged as well. Trust me, if you broke the law, murdered someone, stole a horse or committed a depredation among the community resulting in harm or destruction, you would be punished for it no matter the color of your skin. Sorry if that upsets some of your delicate sensibilities but we cannot erase history just to appease a few people who are offended by the past.

Dry Diggins (Placerville) earned it's nickname "Hangtown" because of one thing: Crime!
There was nothing racist about that. You broke the law, you paid the consequences for it, and sometimes that meant with your life. That's the wild west for you, take it or leave it. When I learned about this ridiculous petition, which was mentioned in a few articles in various local news outlets, it bothered me. For one, as a historical journalist and author, I believe that our history should be preserved, the good and bad. You cannot sugar coat the past. We have to take it all or none.

Now, without further adieu, let's revisit the history of Hangtown by way of actual documented accounts.

According to Sacramento Daily Union, dated April 21, 1880, it states:

"Early Days-How Placerville Came to be Known as Hangtown;."

"The soubriquet of Hangtown, by which this city was at one time only known, and which is now not unfrequently applied to it, had its origin in the hanging by a mob in October, 1850, of a desperado named Richard Crone, but known to the community by the nom de plume of Irish Dick.

The fellow was but a boy, hardly more than twenty-one years of age, and came across the plains from St. Louis, in one of the very first trains in the capacity of a cook. He was of small stature and more noticeable because of his outre attire, a wide and peculiar mouth, and large protruding teeth.  

He took to gambling as a profession, and showed, by his skill and pluck, that he was not unsuited for a business which, especially at the time, was a most hazardous calling. Like his fellows, he never went unarmed, and like them would not hesitate to use his weapons when he thought it would aid his cause to do so.

He soon made himself well known throughout the camps now included in El Dorado county, but the honored "Hangtown" most generally with  his presence. One night, while in the El Dorado saloon, where now stands the Cary House, he stabbed and almost instantly killed an emigrant just arrived, mistaking him, it is said, for someone else who he designed murdering for some fancied wrong. 

The murdered man had a brother in town, who resolved that "Irish Dick" should die. In this determination the town concurred. Dick was taken from the place where the officers of the law had stationed him, into the main street, and tried by a jury of citizens, in the presence of excited thousands, who had collected together from the surrounding country.

The verdict was "guilty," and so soon as it was pronounced the condemned was pushed from the platform whereon he and the Sheriff and the extemporized Court had sat, and hurried along with the crowd towards the plaza, where the preparations were made for his execution.

At this point the mob were told that a sick man was in a house nearby, and that the uproar seriously troubled him. The crowd at one returned down Main Street, and up to what is now Coloma Street, to a large oak, near where is now the Episcopal Church. Meanwhile, Sheriff "Bill" Rogers, and Alex. Hunter and John Clark, Constables of the town, fought desperately for the possession of the prisoner, but against the determined multitude, they were powerless. 

Throughout the terrible ordeal "Dick," with a  physical courage truly wonderful, conducted himself with the utmost coolness. When placed under the tree, with the rope around his neck, he begged the privilege of climbing upon the tree and leaping from the fatal branch. But this was denied him, and he was jerked up by strong and willing hands, and was soon a dangling corpse."--

Did you read that? In this account, not only did the Sheriff and both Constables try to save "Irish Dick's" life to try him for his crimes the right way, through the long arm of the law, but they fought to the bitter end to stop the crowd from enacting their own justice. Unfortunately, their efforts were unsuccessful.

Now, why on earth would Ms. Lloyd bring up George Floyd's death in her petition, as if it somehow fit in with this argument?  Especially when one of the earliest origins of Hangtown's nickname is clearly documented going back over 170 years ago stating that the law enforcement of the area actually did the opposite of what happened in Minnesota?

Look, throughout history, all over the United States and every country abroad has stories like these. Stories where criminals committed heinous acts and the townspeople took the law into their own hands. It has been going on since the beginning of time. Sometimes in the past it was necessary, and sometimes it wasn't, but it happened, and we cannot go back and erase that.

In all the years I have been researching and writing about our history, I have found more stories of white men (American or European immigrants) than any other race who were hanged here in California and within the country (in my research). Lynching was not something that was solely specific to people of color. The sooner people realize that, the better. In Placerville, it had nothing to do with race or culture. Period. It had to do with breaking the law.

Here's another "origins" claim was printed back in May of 1880, in the Sacramento Daily Union in response to the original article above. In this piece the following account comes from a man known as John Breen, one of the founding fathers of Placerville who was a survivor of the ill-fated Donner Party, and lived in California before the discovery of gold at Sutter's mill. His story claims that Hangtown got its name a little earlier than "Irish Dick's" death. Still, no blacks or "minorities" were mentioned in this story either, because if these men were, their nationality would have been mentioned, the newspapers always mentioned where you came from or if you were colored or ethnic.

"I read in your last issue an account of the Placerville came to be called Hangtown, which is a mistake. During the winter of 1848-49, I lived at the place now called Placerville, engaged in mining. Sometime in January, 1849, three men were charged with stealing a quantity of gold dust from a miner's house. They were arrested by a vigilance committee, tried and sentenced to be flogged on the bare back with a 'riata.' This punishment they received, but were not set at liberty. 

Shortly after they were retried and sentenced to be hanged, and the sentence was immediately executed by hanging two of them to the limb of an oak tree which stood near the center of the small valley where Placerville now stands.

The third man, for some reason, was to be hanged the next day, but during the night James Doyle and Patrick Friry, while on guard, turned the man loose and he made his escape. This I was told the next morning by Doyle and Friry as a secret, they being my companions in the cabin where we lived during the winter of '48-49.

Next morning but few miners collected, who, when told that the man had got away, said that it was all right. From the time those men were hanged, and for many years, the place was known as "Hangtown."--- John Breen, 1880.

Besides "Irish Dick" and the two unnamed men in John Breen's story,  there were others hanged on that tree over time. And each account they had committed a crime from theft to murder. I couldn't find any stories of any blacks being hanged out of racism in any case in Placerville's history.

 According to the "History of El Dorado County" by Paolo Sioli it states:

 "The record of crimes committed inside the borderlines of El Dorado county, commencing from the earliest times, has become quite a volume of history in itself. The enormous influx of adventurous men of different nationalities to this very spot of land, the New El Dorado, undoubtedly had brought a good many daring and desperate characters, who had come for gain, in the easiest and least troublesome manner, but for gain under all eventualities. There were others whose intention had been to make an honest living and they started it accordingly; but the weakness of mind and body, together with the bad examples they frequently saw, led them astray, to make fortune in an easier way than with pick and shovel. So, we find as early as 1848 and 1849 already organized bands of desperadoes, with signs, passwords and grips, with chiefs and lieutenants, who would lay in wait in and around the mining camps. The people endeavoring to put a stop to those crimes were often enough compelled to take the law into their own hands, as may be seen out of the case which originated the sobriquet of Hangtown for the village of Placerville." 

In conclusion, I have to disagree with Ms. Lloyd's petition about her idea of the history of Hangtown. She seems to think by retaining the nickname "Hangtown" all they are doing is promoting a negative tone for the town's history.  On the contrary, in order for us to properly honor and respect the town's history I believe we must hold on to the stories, both good and bad.

Besides its infamy for dealing with criminals the old fashioned way, it was also a place where people settled to live their lives. Some good, some bad. A place where so many moved there to start a life such as eager and desperate miners seeking to strike it rich and merchants risking it all to open a business and thrive in the Motherlode. It was also a place that drew in a more dangerous crowd at times: fugitives, thieves, murderers and desperadoes.

Hundreds of people lived there during the Gold Rush, and by 1854, it was the third largest city in California, just after San Francisco and Sacramento. It suffered great losses when a fire nearly destroyed the entire city on July 6, 1856, but being a place that was home to so many hard-working and resilient people, they rebuilt and made it better than it was before. It went from being a hub for gold mining to a place where agriculture, manufacturing and the lumber industry thrived. While many other mining towns disappeared forever, Placerville continued to survive.

There is absolutely no reason to remove a sign that commemorates part of Placerville's past. There have been groups in the past going back to 1914 and also in the 1930's who have tried to petition to either remove the Hangtown name all together or have the town's name switched back to Hangtown, neither of them got too far.

I hope that for the sake of Placerville's history that they do not allow some person who has absolutely no knowledge of El Dorado County history to come in and push her weight around to get City Council and other lawmakers in the county to kowtow to her demands. There is a saying that I live by as a historical journalist and I strongly suggest that the City of Placerville really think about this before they go changing anything, Marcus Tullius Cicero once stated, " “It is the first law of history that the writer should neither dare to advance what is false, nor suppress what is true.” 

Leave the sign as it is. It is a part of Placerville history. You cannot change it, and by removing it you are ignoring and omitting that part of history. It is a part of California history. Do not allow these history revisionists to get you to buckle under the pressure to change our history to appease them. They will continue to complain about something else and something else after that. You give them an inch and they will keep going. It will never be enough.

(Copyright 2020, J'aime Rubio, www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

The Story of Nellie Hill and her Two Graves

Hill Family Plot, Lodi Memorial Cemetery

I have been  meaning to write about Nellie Hill for about 8 years now. It seemed that every time I began to plan to sit down and write her story, something happened in life that distracted me, or I had other responsibilities (such as finishing my latest book) that took precedent. Since we are all stuck at home during this health crisis that will certainly go down in history, I am here today, penning this blog just for you, my readers to finally learn about the story of Nellie Hill and her two graves!

To begin, I  must start with the story of George Washington Hill and Mary Hill of Lodi.  George was born in Brownfield Center, Maine on September 28 of 1846, (According to his death certificate he was born Sept 20, 1845), who came to California in 1869. He married Mary Lewis (daughter of Mary Jane Johnson and Philander Lewis of Ann Arbor, Michigan). The two settled in Lodi, and had two children,  Nellie Etta Hill (Born: 1883) and Maurice Hill (Born: 1899). George was an established jeweler, watch maker and cabinet maker.

When Nellie only three years old, (around 1886), while playing in a rocking chair on the front porch, she rocked the chair forward causing it to lose balance and tumble forward, resulting in a spinal injury that damaged Nellie for the rest of her life.  Because of such an injury, she never grew to the normal size expected, and at the age of 20 was only 4 foot tall with a 2 shoe size.

Around 1901, the Hill family built their beautiful Queen Anne Victorian home at 115 S. School Street in Lodi, which was located literally across from the Post Office. George Hill designed the home himself. In 1948, the home was moved to its current location at 826 S Church Street, which was protested by neighbors in the community who had just built new homes on the street and didn't want the home to be brought there. Still, they managed to do it, and it cost roughly $3,000 in preparation alone to get the home moved in two pieces. Wires had to be elevated on the street and trenches dug, just to get around the electrical and telephone wires in order to safely move the structure.

Nellie Etta Hill

Going back to the story, although Nellie had her physical obstacles, she was committed to being positive and doing what she could to be involved in the community. She loved music, like her brother, and she tried to maintain a social status by being involved in various groups including the choir at the local Lodi Methodist Church. She loved to play the piano, and she even composed a piece of sheet music titled "The Soldiers Farewell" back in 1905, which was considered the first published song by a Lodian. She also loved photography and took many photos which are still within the collection at the Hill House.

Maurice, Nellie's much younger brother grew up to become a concert pianist and composer who often traveled abroad. I have often wondered if Nellie was actually the biological child of Mary and George, given her very dark complexion, and lack of  similar physical characteristics in the family, but I have no proof to provide to you. That is purely my speculation. With that being said, according to an article in the Stockton Record, "George doted on his beautiful and frail daughter Nellie." --

Sadly, at the age of 29 years, Nellie succumbed to pneumonia in her home on January 30, 1912. Her headstone reads January 31st, while others have claimed January 29th.  Her funeral was held on February 2, 1912  at the Methodist Church in Lodi, with Rev. E. B. Winning officiating.  Her casket was then interred into the Hill family plot at Lodi Memorial Cemetery. It was said her funeral was one of the largest funerals at the time.

Original Marker Where Nellie was Buried

Her parents George and Mary soon followed. George passed away on February 22, 1927 from basically a really bad UTI/bladder infection, (cystitis with chronic hypertrophy of prostate) and Mary passed away from heart failure on October 12, 1934. Their death certificates said they would be buried at Lodi Memorial but the family plot only has Nellie's name and inscription on it.

For years I had wondered where George and Mary were since it appeared they were not with Nellie. Tracking down Nellie's brother, I had later found out that Maurice, who died in 1984 was interred in a niche in the mausoleum on the other side of the cemetery. After doing a little sleuthing with my fiance (the very person who originally introduced me to Nellie's grave in the first place), we decided to go check out the Mausoleum niche's to see Maurice's spot. Lo and behold, there was George, Mary, Mary's half-sister Daisy, Maurice and guess what?  Nellie! You read that right, there is a niche with Nellie's name on it.

(Courtesy of Roland Boulware)

This was cause for visiting the cemetery office to ask about the oddity of her having two graves. After speaking to the staff at the cemetery, they explained to us that someone had just talked to them about the same story that week earlier, and as it turns out, Maurice was deathly afraid of being buried in the ground. So, although his parents were buried alongside Nellie in the family plot, he had arranged in his will that upon his death he would be put in a niche in the Mausoleum, and that his family would be exhumed and re-interred with him there. Thus the reason why he didn't bother to put his parent's names on the family marker in the cemetery. Sadly, though, they made quite a few errors on Nellie's plaque, as it reads 1881-1911 when she was born in 1883 and died in 1912.

Obviously, when Nellie died in 1912, George and Mary had planned to be buried there beside their daughter, so that was why they purchased the large plot and had such a large family monument to be placed there, with enough space for all four of their names to be inscribed.

For all these years I had been visiting Nellie, and she wasn't even there. She was on the opposite side of the cemetery all along, well since 1984 anyway.  Now Nellie and the rest of her family are resting side by side, above ground in the Mausoleum.

If you would like to visit Nellie, her niche is located on the outside of the smaller mausoleum on the eastern side of the property. Her original grave, which is still there, is on the far west side of the property near the first driveway. You can't miss it. I visit her all the time! 

In ending, the Hill House is a marvelous piece of Lodi History encapsulated within its walls. The whole house has been beautifully kept up and holds much of the Hill family's belongings and treasures. If you get a chance to visit it, you should, and why not stop by and visit the Hill family at the Lodi Memorial Cemetery as well and pay your respects.  

By the way, although many people have tried to insinuate the home is haunted in recent years,all of the older locals who I have spoken to who have also visited over the years, some having stayed over as children have all claimed the home wasn't haunted.  You can be the judge for yourself if you visit. Just please show the home love and respect. It was once someone's happy home. 

(Copyright 2020 - J'aime Rubio www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Photos:
Photo of  Nellie's original grave by J'aime Rubio
Photo of Hill House (in color) by J'aime Rubio
Photo of Nellie's plaque in Mausoleum by Roland Boulware
Photo of Nellie Hill from Lodi Sentinel Archives
Photo of Hill House (black and white) Lodi Sentinel Archives

Historic Rocklin death a puzzle for early pathologists

Photo Credit: William Tatum 

There was a chill in the air on a cold December day in 1891 when a coworker of Albert Bertelsen came calling at his home two miles east of Rocklin. Bertelsen’s friend knocked and, after no response, entered inside to stumble upon a corpse sprawled across the floor.

Bertelsen had lived on a ranch near the Lee Drift Mine. According to the Sacramento Daily Union newspaper, clues around his homestead suggested that he might have been attacked outside. His wounds appeared to have been caused by buck shot from a gun hitting his face, chest and the side of his body. The marks on the ground also led the authorities to wonder if he had then been dragged into his home.

The citizens of Rocklin wanted to know who could have done this? And why? Newspapers all around Placer and Sacramento counties ran with the story, detailing the condition of Bertelsen’s body and creating a community mystery around the question of foul play.

A native of Denmark, Bertelsen was born in 1850. He immigrated to the United States in the late 1860s. A decade later, he was living in Lincoln and working on a farm. State records show that on Feb. 21, 1872 he filed an official “Declaration of Intention” to become a U.S. citizen. Bertelsen soon married Jane Gray of Coloma. The two remained together for nearly 14 years until tragedy struck and Jane passed away. 

Photo Credit: Little Orange in the Big Apple

The cause of her death is not recorded, though documents confirm she was brought to the Siebenthaler Home for funeral services at 20^th Street in Sacramento, and was later taken to the Masonic Cemetery for burial. Bertelsen worked managing the Lee Mine at the time. Just weeks before his own death, Bertelsen quit his longstanding position and went to work at the local quarry. It was his failure to show up to this particular job that prompted his friend to come over and make the grisly discovery.

Questions continued to swirl around the topic of whether Bertelsen was murdered. After investigating, the coroner shocked many in the community by ruling the death “accidental.”  Archives from the Placer County Herald newspaper shed light on what apparently took place that cold December day. It seems that around the one-year anniversary of Jane’s death, Bertelsen decided to start removing the tree stumps from his property by blowing them up.

The coroner ascertained that he was using blasting powder while working in the field, and somehow ignited an explosion prematurely. Bertelsen was hit by the force of the blast. Not dying immediately, he dragged himself back to his house. Closer examination of his body proved that it was gravel and dirt debris that was embedded deep in his skin rather than buck shot. The fact that it took several days before his body was found, and its state of decomposition, suggests Bertelsen might have been killed on the one-year anniversary of his beloved wife’s death. His longtime friend Phillip Siebenthaler traveled to Rocklin to recover his body and bring it back to Sacramento to be buried next to Jane at the Masonic Cemetery. Unfortunately, Bertelsen doesn’t have a marker or headstone, but grave maps show he is next to his wife in Section H, Block 60.

In the end, what was originally believed to be a murder turned out to be a terrible accident; but if Bertelsen did actually die on the anniversary of his wife’s passing, some may wonder if it was entirely a coincidence. Could the ranch manager have been so caught up in his emotions that day he made a careless mistake? The only thing that is known for sure is that he and his wife were reunited once and for all at their final resting place.

Photo Credit: Lin McNamara

(Originally published on August 7, 2015 in the Placer Herald)

Publisher/Editor's Notes: This is one of a series of articles that I wrote for the Roseville Press-Tribune/Placer Herald several years back when I used to write the historical articles for them.  According to my old editor, since I wrote the content I can repost the articles. I have also obtained permission by Gold Country Media a few years back to republish my stories, too. 

Photo credits to: Lin McNamara (Findagrave), Little Orange in the Big Apple (Findagrave) and William Tatum (Findagrave). 

Extra Sources:

Sac Daily Union—December 9, 1891

Sac Daily Union- December 8, 1891