It was 1972, I had just returned to “the world†having fulfilled my military obligation.
Back in the states it was an interesting time, especially in my California....I was home with veteran points, a GI bill and a new found freedom. I soon found a job in neighboring Sacramento, Ca.
Sacramento was going through an extensive revitalization...seems war was good business, but I won't go there.
Soon I was a part of the Sacramento work force. My job allowed me to see some of the seedier parts of our capital city. These areas were wide open to a shovel & possibility. In old town along the embarrcadero entire blocks of gold rush California were having foundations laid bare. Out houses & cat-hole dumps were there for the picking. The scene was the same in San Francisco & elsewhere.
Sometimes the archeologists were first on the scene...sometimes not. Demolition crews really didn't want anything of historical interest found …the wrong object could bring demolition to a screeching halt while the archies used shaving brushes to excavate small perfect squares cataloging every sherd of glass & layer of outhouse seeds. Time meant money as work came to a halt. A good friend's father worked along the San Francisco water front. Running an excavator he dug into the side of a 1840's sailing ship in the reclaimed bay at the depth of sixty feet. He watched a barrel split open with puce half pint Fells Point flasks spilling to the ground. I eventually was able to purchase one of these rare flasks. I had it for years before selling it in American glass Auctions for a tidy profit.
Old Sacramento was ripe for the picking. While working I came across a large darkened area of soil that appeared to be part of a pond or lake. Coal black earth...anaerobic. I came back on my weekend w/ shovel & probe. A few pontiled bottles scattered about. Most of the sodas were missing their blob tops, but a few were complete. I remember working down a slope to a series of logs stacked in a row. Just to the inside of this “log jam†I found a tangle of tree limbs, and debris 12 feet thick. I pulled limb by limb from the mud slowly dropping back in time. This was back breaking work. Everything was heavy, slippery & oooky. after several hours I had the whole top layer off, down to the very bottom. As I pulled the last limb off I saw a 3 foot square of rusty metal laying flat. I pulled this tin-sheet up to find a Kimbal & Co cobalt blue graphite pontil soda. The Kimbal soda company was located in Marysville, California. Their sodas are difficult to find & a prize to own. Circa 1853-56
On one return to this site I happened to have forgotten my probe. I worked a little embankment down several feet. As luck would have it, I found a straight piece of 1/4†rusty steel rod in the mud. Ah, a probe....I picked up the slender piece of metal & pushed it gently into the embankment. The rod soon clicked that magic (here's a bottle sound) tink... That was quick. I dug into the mud to expose a large Chinese pot. This would take a little work.....I carved the soil away carefully all the while saying a little bottle prayer that the earthenware would be whole. Not only was it whole, but it was a larger size than any I had seen before with a cartouche on the shoulder in Chinese writing. It would go nicely with my other pots. These glazed pottery pots were the grocery bags & cardboard boxes of the Chinese in gold rush California. Very seldom do we find these items complete. Their size & use make them vulnerable.
Excellent...................... not bad for my new found freedom in land of milk & honey. I've added some Marysville Ca history for those interested in the Kimbal's provenance.
Meriam "Mary" Marjory Murphy Johnson Covillaud (1831-1867) was a survivor of the Donner Party one of the first women of European descent to settle in what would become the city of Marysville. Marysville is named after her.
The storm clouds were already brewing upon the mountains, only a few miles distant. The ascent was ominous. Thick and thicker grew the clouds, outstripping in threatening battalions the now eager feet of the alarmed emigrants, until at Prosser creek, three miles below Truckee, October 28, 1846, a month earlier than usual, the storm set in, and they found themselves in six inches of newly-fallen snow. On the summit it was already from two to five feet deep. The party, in much confusion, finally reached Donner Lake in disordered fragments. Frequent and desperate attempts were made to cross the mountain tops, but at last, baffled and despairing, they returned to camp at the lake. The storm now descended in all its pitiless fury upon the ill-fated emigrants. Its dreadful import was well understood, as laden with omens of suffering and death.
Mary's infant niece, Catherine Pike, died the day after the First Relief team arrived. Mary herself was rescued by this team, as was her younger brother William. John Rhoads of the First Relief team actually carried two children on his back—the child who died, whose name was Ada Keseburg, and Mary's 3-year-old niece, Naomi Pike. Naomi survived the trip. But Mary learned that her younger brother Lemuel had died with the snowshoe team on December 27, 1846; she had lost both the siblings closest to her in age. In addition, Mary's mother, her youngest brother Simon, and her 2-year-old nephew, George Foster, were all too weak to travel with the rescue team and had to remain behind at Donner Lake. Simon was rescued by the Third Relief team in mid-March, when he was celebrating his ninth birthday. George had already died and was eaten shortly before the Third Relief team arrived. Mary's mother was still too weak to travel, and died soon after the Third Relief team left without her. Her body was also eaten by the few remaining survivors.
The above are but a few excerpts of the Donner Party tragedy......
Back in the states it was an interesting time, especially in my California....I was home with veteran points, a GI bill and a new found freedom. I soon found a job in neighboring Sacramento, Ca.
Sacramento was going through an extensive revitalization...seems war was good business, but I won't go there.
Soon I was a part of the Sacramento work force. My job allowed me to see some of the seedier parts of our capital city. These areas were wide open to a shovel & possibility. In old town along the embarrcadero entire blocks of gold rush California were having foundations laid bare. Out houses & cat-hole dumps were there for the picking. The scene was the same in San Francisco & elsewhere.
Sometimes the archeologists were first on the scene...sometimes not. Demolition crews really didn't want anything of historical interest found …the wrong object could bring demolition to a screeching halt while the archies used shaving brushes to excavate small perfect squares cataloging every sherd of glass & layer of outhouse seeds. Time meant money as work came to a halt. A good friend's father worked along the San Francisco water front. Running an excavator he dug into the side of a 1840's sailing ship in the reclaimed bay at the depth of sixty feet. He watched a barrel split open with puce half pint Fells Point flasks spilling to the ground. I eventually was able to purchase one of these rare flasks. I had it for years before selling it in American glass Auctions for a tidy profit.
Old Sacramento was ripe for the picking. While working I came across a large darkened area of soil that appeared to be part of a pond or lake. Coal black earth...anaerobic. I came back on my weekend w/ shovel & probe. A few pontiled bottles scattered about. Most of the sodas were missing their blob tops, but a few were complete. I remember working down a slope to a series of logs stacked in a row. Just to the inside of this “log jam†I found a tangle of tree limbs, and debris 12 feet thick. I pulled limb by limb from the mud slowly dropping back in time. This was back breaking work. Everything was heavy, slippery & oooky. after several hours I had the whole top layer off, down to the very bottom. As I pulled the last limb off I saw a 3 foot square of rusty metal laying flat. I pulled this tin-sheet up to find a Kimbal & Co cobalt blue graphite pontil soda. The Kimbal soda company was located in Marysville, California. Their sodas are difficult to find & a prize to own. Circa 1853-56
On one return to this site I happened to have forgotten my probe. I worked a little embankment down several feet. As luck would have it, I found a straight piece of 1/4†rusty steel rod in the mud. Ah, a probe....I picked up the slender piece of metal & pushed it gently into the embankment. The rod soon clicked that magic (here's a bottle sound) tink... That was quick. I dug into the mud to expose a large Chinese pot. This would take a little work.....I carved the soil away carefully all the while saying a little bottle prayer that the earthenware would be whole. Not only was it whole, but it was a larger size than any I had seen before with a cartouche on the shoulder in Chinese writing. It would go nicely with my other pots. These glazed pottery pots were the grocery bags & cardboard boxes of the Chinese in gold rush California. Very seldom do we find these items complete. Their size & use make them vulnerable.
Excellent...................... not bad for my new found freedom in land of milk & honey. I've added some Marysville Ca history for those interested in the Kimbal's provenance.
Meriam "Mary" Marjory Murphy Johnson Covillaud (1831-1867) was a survivor of the Donner Party one of the first women of European descent to settle in what would become the city of Marysville. Marysville is named after her.
The storm clouds were already brewing upon the mountains, only a few miles distant. The ascent was ominous. Thick and thicker grew the clouds, outstripping in threatening battalions the now eager feet of the alarmed emigrants, until at Prosser creek, three miles below Truckee, October 28, 1846, a month earlier than usual, the storm set in, and they found themselves in six inches of newly-fallen snow. On the summit it was already from two to five feet deep. The party, in much confusion, finally reached Donner Lake in disordered fragments. Frequent and desperate attempts were made to cross the mountain tops, but at last, baffled and despairing, they returned to camp at the lake. The storm now descended in all its pitiless fury upon the ill-fated emigrants. Its dreadful import was well understood, as laden with omens of suffering and death.
Mary's infant niece, Catherine Pike, died the day after the First Relief team arrived. Mary herself was rescued by this team, as was her younger brother William. John Rhoads of the First Relief team actually carried two children on his back—the child who died, whose name was Ada Keseburg, and Mary's 3-year-old niece, Naomi Pike. Naomi survived the trip. But Mary learned that her younger brother Lemuel had died with the snowshoe team on December 27, 1846; she had lost both the siblings closest to her in age. In addition, Mary's mother, her youngest brother Simon, and her 2-year-old nephew, George Foster, were all too weak to travel with the rescue team and had to remain behind at Donner Lake. Simon was rescued by the Third Relief team in mid-March, when he was celebrating his ninth birthday. George had already died and was eaten shortly before the Third Relief team arrived. Mary's mother was still too weak to travel, and died soon after the Third Relief team left without her. Her body was also eaten by the few remaining survivors.
The above are but a few excerpts of the Donner Party tragedy......
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