Preserving local history in Daggett

The old Stone Hotel in Daggett will become home of the new Daggett Museum. (James Quigg, Daily Press)

By Davina Fisher
Desert Dispatch

DAGGETT — After a 13-year hiatus, the Daggett Historical Society is planning on opening the Daggett Museum by the end of this year.

In 2004, the museum made national headlines after thieves made off with several Native American artifacts — one of which included a basket appraised at $3,500. The museum has been closed ever since.

Fast forward to 2017. The Daggett Historical Society has been making efforts to revamp significant buildings in town, including the museum.

“We’ve spent the last two years rebuilding and getting it ready for open-to-the-public status,” said the current president of the Daggett Historical Society, Daryl Schendel. “The purpose of the museum and the society is to not only preserve the history, but to make available to people the significance of Daggett and people who have lived there.”

In the late 1800s, Daggett was a major transportation and supply center for mining districts — most notably the town of Calico, which produced over $20 million in silver ore over a 12-year span. Rich silver deposits were found in the Calico Mountains six miles north of Daggett and in 1882 the Calico camp began to boom as the Silver King mine came into full production. During this time, mills and processing plants were constructed on the Mojave River near Daggett.

In 1888, the Calico railroad was built to connect the mine with the Santa Fe main line at Daggett in order to more efficiently move the ore from mine to mill. In 1891, more than 100 tons of ore from the Silver King mine and 50 tons from the Waterloo mine were hauled daily to be processed at the Oro Grande Milling company near Daggett.

During this same period the borax rush, in 1883, hit Calico. By 1902, Daggett was supported by three borax mines employing 200 men and had three stores, three saloons, two Chinese restaurants, a railroad, a drug store, a lumber yard, and the old Stone Hotel. The production of borax in San Bernardino County was at its peak in the year 1902, when the total value was just over $2 million. It has been estimated that borax taken out of the Calico Hills had a value of more than $9 million.

The museum has photos, tools and clothing on display to tell Daggett’s story.

“In each display cabinet there is something new unique,” said Schendel. “History on John Daggett, the river, fish pond, the stamp mill, the Daggett ditch — all things that played a big part in the area.”

The museum will initially be open on a limited basis, once a week. The Daggett Historical Society also plans to hold events at the museum. There isn’t an admission fee, but donations will be accepted.

“More stories are coming out since a lot of the families that live there are direct descendents of the pioneers of the town,” said Schendel. ” We want to bring back Daggett’s significance and history before it’s lost totally.”

For more information about Daggett, visit http://www.daggetthistoricalsociety.org/.

Another glass of Mexican wine

Snow-packed streets in Victorville lead to the Stewart Hotel in this undated photo. It was here where silent film actor William S. Hart convalesced in the winter of 1920 while members of his crew purloined Mexican wine from a stopped Santa Fe freight train. (Courtesy of Mohahve Historical Society and Victor Valley College)

By Matthew Cabe
Victorville Daily Press

In a late-blooming but wildly fruitful film career, William S. Hart established himself as an actor who portrayed cowboys with authenticity and integrity, both unwavering.

A Broadway actor with Shakespearean chops who first performed on stage in 1888, Hart was 49 when he starred in his first silent Western, “His Hour of Manhood,” in 1914.

Hart’s Westerns were informed by his childhood. Though born in Newburgh, New York — a still-small town on the Hudson River, 125 miles south of where the horses run track in Saratoga Springs — Hart’s formative years were spent in the rural Midwest with ranchers, Civil War vets, outlaws, gold prospectors and saloon proprietors.

And so he saw the Old West differently from what had been depicted on screen in the early dawn of motion pictures.

According to a bio on the Hart Museum website, his films are distinguished by “gritty realism,” and Hart is credited for creating the “good bad guy” role — immoral characters who find the path of “clean, honest living.”

The persona melded with the man; Hart is remembered as a philanthropic gentleman, a proponent of clean living. But a tale from Prohibition-era Victorville hidden within the pages of his memoir, “My Life East and West,” humorously challenges that notion.

In the winter of 1920, the 56-year-old Hart spent a day in an icy Sacramento River filming scenes for “White Oak,” released the following year by Paramount Pictures. The nearly frozen river proved costly.

“I should have gone to bed; instead of that we went to Victorville for our desert scenes,” Hart wrote. “The river scenes were only the start of the story, but they came mighty near finishing it, for at Victorville my sister Mary made me smoke that little glass cigarette and it registered one hundred and three.”

Poor Hart was laid up in the Stewart Hotel on D Street for three days with pneumonia. He received care from Harris Garcelon — the region’s only doctor — who introduced the actor to the Victor Valley years before, according to historian Dr. Edward Leo Lyman.

Meanwhile, Hart’s “company could not work” without their star, so they bummed around the city, loitering in Forrest Park.

This idleness led to an unexpected discovery of what Hart described as “ninety-seven million gallons of the finest Mexican wine” stowed in one of the rail cars of a stopped Santa Fe freight train.

“Where was it going, I don’t know,” Hart wrote. “I only know it never arrived there, and that through the medium of several short pieces of garden hose, enough wine was siphoned out of that oil car to irrigate the Mojave Desert.”

Alcohol was illegal and all, but illegalizing anything rarely gives pause to those in want. Hart’s boys scrambled for buckets, milk pans, garbage pails and washtubs, brimmed their receptacles and went on a two-day bender, transforming city streets into a “public dance-hall.”

“The more timid citizens telephoned to San Bernardino, forty miles away, for help,” Hart wrote. “The sheriff and twenty deputies, all armed to the teeth, arrived on a special train. They did not need guns. They needed many husky men and many stretchers.

“The merrymaking had ended. Every foot of available space outside or inside at Victorville was occupied by a sleeping cowboy. The courthouse was full — the jail was full. Nothing was sacred to those Bacchanalian inebriates.”

Hart wasn’t guiltless, though. He too partook and did so in front of Walter A. Shay, who served as San Bernardino County’s sheriff from 1918 to 1931.

“The sheriff was a real sheriff; no one had been harmed, no damage had been done,” Hart wrote. “He returned with his deputies to San Bernardino.”

I’ve been told of contraband liquor in Victorville. Of sweat-browed men pushing barreled booze through underground tunnels as unwitting citizens walked the streets above.

On Richard Thompson’s Mojave History website, I’ve read about Guy Wadsworth, a notorious Oro Grande bootlegger, who peddled “turtle juice” and “would rather make one dollar illegally than two legally.”

I’ve seen the Mohahve Historical Society’s photograph of deputies confiscating crates of rotgut.

But the revelry of Hart’s crew forced the issue into broad daylight, proving powers that be don’t always believe in whatever asinine law they’re sworn to uphold.

Dr. Lyman called the moment “the most hilarious and unbelievable ... episode of the town’s history.”

I call it one hell of a good time.

Man caught selling thousands of dollars' worth of stolen Nevada Museum Antiques on Ebay

Beatty Museum, Beatty, Nevada.

by Faith Jessie
KSNV news3lv.com

LAS VEGAS — Beatty, NV, also known as the gateway to Death Valley, sits about a 100 miles northwest of Las Vegas.

The history of the town is told through the items that sit in its museum.

One piece of that history is glass bottles from the Friends of Rhyolite collection. It dates back to the early 1900's when Rhyolite, NV once thrived from the mining industry.

Diane McGinnis presides over the museum's Board of Directors and was surprised when a thief stole some of the antique bottles from the museum to make a profit.

"One of the other community members noticed that they had some stolen products on Ebay," said McGinnis
The Nye County Sheriff's department says the man behind the online sale of the stolen items from the community was 57-year-old Johnny Salisbury.

"They looked at his postings saw that he has the glass bottles and figured you know, we know where those came from," said McGinnis.

Salisbury was arrested by Sheriffs on Monday for stealing the bottles and other property valued at over $2,500.
Mark Hall-Patton, who spends a fair amount of his time with historic objects, says these pieces are valuable to collectors.

"Bottle collectors especially in the old west, what they are looking for are bottles from ghost towns, bottles from places where people are no longer living in, there are no businesses anymore," said Mark Hall-Patton, Administrator Clark County Museum System. "Rhyolight [sic] died fairly early, but the town site is still there and it's one of those towns that really has an image in Western History.

It's a part of history that everyone will be able to see. The bottles are now back where they belong and will be on display this summer at the Beatty Museum.

Con artist builds a crooked road in Death Valley

Feb. 9, 1969: Death Valley naturalist Dwight Warren checks a portion of Titus Canyon Road, which had been closed by a cloudburst. This photo by staff photographer Frank Q. Brown was published in the Feb. 21, 1969, Los Angeles Times.

Posted By: Scott Harrison
Los Angeles Times Framework

The history of Titus Canyon Road was explained in a May 22, 1977, Los Angeles Times article by staff writer Charles Hillinger:

DEATH VALLEY NATIONAL MONUMENT – It is undoubtedly the longest one-way, no-other-way road in the country.

The 27-mile road winds its way west through a scenic gorge in two states – California and Nevada.

It is so narrow in spots there is barely enough room for a car to squeeze between the 500-foot-high sheer limestone walls that rise spectacularly from the canyon floor.

Titus Canyon Road is, for good reason, the least used of nine roads into Death Valley, America’s hottest and driest place.

Its 27 miles are miserable, none of it paved, strewn with dirt and rocks.

The road was built by a con artist who pushed it through the canyon in 1925 to provide access to one of the most notorious mining hoaxes of the century.

It was in Titus Canyon that Chauncey C. Julian “salted” the Grapevine Mountains and spawned a town near Bloody Gap he called Leadfield.

He proclaimed the hills in “his” canyon were alive with pockets and veins of lead, and published brochures showing ships steaming up Death Valley’s Amargosa River to the mouth of Titus Canyon to take on ore.

The Amargosa River is bone dry.

In March, 1926, Julian ran a 15-car “Leadville Special” train from Los Angeles to Beatty, Nev., for 340 investors – 24 of them women – to visit their diggings. The investors were driven from Beatty through the winding gorge to Leadfield in a caravan of cars.

A hotel, stores and homes were built in Leadfield. But the town lasted only two years. There was a post office from August, 1926, until February, 1927.

Then the bubble burst.

Julian skipped the country and fled to Shanghai where he committed suicide in 1934.

A handful of decaying structures still stand at Leadfield on the Titus Canyon Road, named after Morris Titus, a miner who entered the narrow canyon to do some prospecting in 1906 and never was seen again.

It gets so hot along the road that the National Park Service closes the canyon from mid-May to mid-October – so that nobody gets stranded and perishes in the scorching sun.

Mysterious rocks stolen from Death Valley National Park

A roaming rock at Death Valley National Park's Racetrack Playa. (Ben Greenburg / National Park Service / May 30, 2013)

By Louis Sahagun
Los Angeles Times

Death Valley National Park officials are investigating the theft of several of the rocks that mysteriously roam across a remote ancient lake bed known as the Racetrack Playa.

Rocks of various sizes -- from baseball to basketball -- scoot across the 2.5-mile-long, oval-shaped mudflat on the north end of the park, leaving tracks that are straight, curved and even looped. Some tracks extend up to 600 feet.

Geologists theorize that the rocks slide after rain moistens the top few centimeters of the lake bed and a high wind pushes them around.

"We've had more instances of folks taking the rocks," Death Valley spokesman Terry Baldino said. "They don't seem to understand that outside of the Racetrack, these marvelous rocks have no value."

Big Bear Historical Society members take artifact for museum

An example of an arrastre used during the Gold Rush to crush ore to remove gold. Three members of the Big Bear Valley Historical Society pleaded guilty in December 2012 to stealing a historical artifact -- a similar arrastre -- from the San Bernardino National Forest. (U.S. FOREST SERVICE)

By Brian Rokos, Staff Writer
Press-Enterprise

Three members of the Big Bear Valley Historical Society who were convicted of stealing a historical artifact from the San Bernardino National Forest were simply trying to preserve Big Bear-area history and didn’t mean to commit a crime, one of the members said.

One big problem — they took the artifact without permission.

David North, 66, Jean Karwelis, 50, and Donald Schaub, 77, all of Big Bear Lake, pleaded guilty Dec. 4 to removing a prehistoric, historic or archaeological resource, structure, site, artifact or property from National Forest Service lands, according to the U.S. Forest Service and U.S. Attorney’s Office.

The item was an arrastre, which was used during the Gold Rush period around 1860 to grind ore that contained gold. An arrastre consists of a circular, stone-lined pit and a drag stone that was pulled in a circle by a horse or mule.

Scores of arrastres survived the period, but most have been destroyed or vandalized, according to a news release on the case issued Friday, Dec. 14.

This arrastre was part of an exhibit on the Gold Fever Trail at the Metzger Mine in Holcomb Valley, north of the Big Bear valley.

Schaub said in a phone interview Friday that the arrastre had been vandalized and that he, North and Karwelis wanted to take it back to the Big Bear Valley Historical Museum, which the historical society runs, to repair it.

“I had no idea that this was a historical arrastre. I thought it was just a bunch of messed-up rocks,” Schaub said. “I’m not a thief. I wanted to help the museum.”

But Schaub also said that there were no plans to return the arrastre to its original site.

“We were going to leave it at the museum for the future people to see,” he said.

Assistant U.S. Attorney Jerry C. Yang said in a phone interview that the historical society members did not have permission to take the arrastre.

“This is a big deal,” Yang said. “These are things we need to protect and people need to respect.”

The three defendants each were fined $1,000. Also, they must replace the arrastre in its original location under the guidance of a Forest Service archaeologist. The charge was a misdemeanor.

“This sends a clear message that it is not OK to loot archaeological sites,” Bill Sapp, a Forest Service archaeologist, wrote in the news release.

Forest Service spokesman John Miller said in a phone interview that theft of artifacts from national forests is a problem, but that prosecutions are rare because the thefts are seldom witnessed. The artifacts “wind up in someone’s backyard,” he said.

Shuttered California state parks may be vulnerable to vandalism

Damage to the visitors center and other structures at Mitchell Caverns in the Mojave Desert has officials working to improve plans to protect as many as 70 other California parks scheduled to close in July because of budget cuts.

Kevin Forrester, a superintendent with the California Department of Parks and Recreation, walks inside Mitchell Caverns at Providence Mountains State Recreation Area. Since the remote park's closure, intruders have cut fences, kicked doors off of hinges and shattered windows and display cases at the visitors center. Critics say it might be a harbinger of what's to come when 70 more state parks are closed because of budget cuts. (Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times / February 22, 2012)

By Louis Sahagun
Los Angeles Times

Reporting from Providence Mountains State Recreation Area, Calif. -- California parks officials closed a gem of the state park system last spring, sadly shuttering Mitchell Caverns, a natural wonder that for eight decades had drawn visitors to this remote spot in the Mojave Desert.

Workers hauled away the precious Native American artifacts and historical documents and locked the gates, assuming the area would sit undisturbed until the state could afford to reopen it.

But several times in the last four months, vandals traveled 16 desolate miles north from Interstate 40 to plunder and damage the park's isolated structures. Their actions left advocates for the caverns angry at the state and have officials working to improve plans to protect as many as 70 other California parks scheduled to close in July because of budget cuts.

The worst damage was to the 78-year-old rock-and-mortar visitors center at Mitchell Caverns, the main attraction of the 5,900-acre Providence Mountains State Recreation Area.

Intruders cut fences, kicked doors off of hinges and shattered windows and display cases. They stole metal signs and survival gear, including hand-held radios, flashlights and binoculars. They also stole diesel-powered generators and ripped out thousands of feet of electrical wire used to illuminate the only natural limestone caverns in the state park system, San Bernardino County sheriff's investigators said.

"What happened at the visitors center is devastating and heartbreaking," said Kathy Weatherman, superintendent of the California Parks and Recreation Department's Tehachapi District. She said the caverns themselves were not damaged. The state is taking steps to try to prevent more destruction, including searching for a full-time caretaker, Weatherman said.

The attacks have heightened concerns about possible vandalism at other state parks scheduled for closure. Those 70 parks are among the least used in the state. They represent one-quarter of the 278 that exist across California but tally just 8% of total visits. Many are in remote areas where they are particularly vulnerable.

Officials are seeking anyone with the clout and funds to keep them from being left unguarded after they are closed. "Now, amid budget constraints, we're looking for ways to get caretakers, guardians, local law enforcement and volunteers to protect these precious places," said Roy Stearns, a spokesman for the California Department of Parks and Recreation.

As with so many cuts in California government spending these days, the hope is that once the budget improves, the state will restore services and amenities that have long made the state a rich place to live. But there are no guarantees, especially because just 13 of the state parks and beaches are financially self-sustaining. Fans of many of the parks scheduled for closure are scrambling to try to find some combination of private funds and volunteerism to keep the gates open, fearing that if they ever close it could be for good.

The Mitchell Caverns visitors center, 220 miles east of Los Angeles, had been the home of the caverns' original owners, Los Angeles businessman Jack Mitchell and his wife, Ida. The couple moved to the desert to open the caverns as a tourist attraction in the 1930s and sold them to the state in 1954. A memorial plaque says the Mitchells wanted the state to preserve the area and the caverns "for future generations to appreciate."

Sue Ellen Patrick, 71, granddaughter of Jack and Ida Mitchell, said of the destruction: "My family feels betrayed because the state didn't do what it promised us, which is protect the caves and the heritage."

State Parks and Recreation Department officials decided to mothball the area last May because of two unrelated events. The park's two rangers retired and the state found serious problems with the water system, said Linda Slater, resource interpreter at the nearby Mojave National Preserve. The state couldn't afford the repairs needed to keep the park open.

After valuables were removed, the property was left unguarded, parks officials said.

"The state locked up the place and then walked away, leaving it wide open to troublemakers," said Dennis Casebier, executive director of the nonprofit Mojave Desert Heritage and Cultural Assn.

Said cattle rancher Rob Blair, 54, who lives within view of Mitchell Caverns: "It's disgusting what's going on out there. These intruders were pretty bold to cut the locks off a state park gate, then tear everything up and steal big-ticket items."

Park officials estimate the damage at $100,000.

Responding to a trespassing call on Feb. 5, sheriff's deputies arrested Christopher Alvarado, 48, of Azusa and Trisha Sutton, 36, of Covina. Deputies said they found stolen items at the couple's campsite near Mitchell Caverns. Alvarado and Sutton were booked on suspicion of burglary, receiving stolen property, possession of a controlled substance and possession of burglary tools, Sheriff's Lt. Ross Tarangle said.

The investigation continues, with police trying to determine whether other people were involved.

Although police reports indicate that a person interviewed at the site said vandals found a key to the cavern gates and destroyed natural features inside, Tarangle said those reports have yet to be confirmed, and parks officials insist they have no evidence the caverns were damaged.

From a distance, the entrance to the caverns resembles two large eyes on a massive rock. Their earliest inhabitants included a Pleistocene ground sloth that stumbled into the darkness 15,000 years ago and left claw marks on a wall. Later, the caverns were blackened with smoke from the fires of Chemehuevi Indians who used them for shelter, storage and ceremonial purposes for at least 500 years.

This week, Kevin Forrester, sector superintendent for the parks department, recalled memories of better times as he walked along a path to the visitors center.

"Look at it now," Forrester said with a sigh. "We've had to board up the windows and weld the doors shut.

"It's going to take a lot of money to bring this place back to life."