Richard Wayne Penniman, better known as Little Richard, died yesterday, May 9, 2020. I once had the pleasure of talking with him.
In September 1997, my company sent two co-workers and me to a two-week training class in Los Angeles. There were perhaps twenty students in all. The company put us up in a nice hotel on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood. There were two students to a room, and the rooms were along one hallway. In a suite at the end of the hallway resided Little Richard.
We students often left our doors open so we could easily visit each other. From time to time Little Richard passed by with his small entourage, likely security or business associates. Little Richard would wave to us in our rooms and say hello.
The training ended October 3. While I sat in the hotel lobby waiting for my co-workers, for us to take a taxi ride to the airport, Little Richard arrived with his entourage, and he sat near me. We started to talk. He asked me where I was from and about my visit to Los Angeles. I asked him about where he was from. It was an ordinary conversation. I asked him for an autograph for my older sister, and he gladly gave it. He then handed me a small religious book called Finding Peace Within and a photo of himself. The inscription on the photo was pre-printed. He then got up to leave. We wished each other a good day, and he and his entourage were off.
By Pleasant Grove Creek in the city of Rocklin, surrounded by houses and a golf course green and Monument Park, is a granite pyramid containing the bodies of Joel Whitney and members of his family. The tomb has a perimeter of 40 feet and is 15 feet tall. Its construction date is unknown. It was situated on Whitney's large Spring Valley Ranch. Whitney, who arrived in the Gold Rush and died in 1913 at age 78, was the first occupant of the pyramid. The Whitney descendants sold ranch parcels and the family mansion, keeping the one acre fenced plot with the pyramid. Being very accessible to the public, the pyramid gets many visitors.
Next to the pyramid is the top of a granite pluton with bedrock mortars deepened over centuries by Nisenan women grinding acorns into meal. Plutons form deep underground, meaning a mountain once stood here. The mountain stood next to the ocean. Over time it wore down to almost sea level, its remnants filling the present-day Sacramento Valley.
Today I drove to Nevada County where I visited portions the Truckee Trail, part of the Overland Emigrant Trail network. The Truckee Trail opened in 1845. Those arriving to the Sacramento Valley via the Truckee Trail added to the American population in California, so the trail played a small part in the United States wresting control of California from Mexico in 1847. Three cheers for the Truckee Trail! The completion of the Transcontinental Railroad led to a steep reduction in trail traffic. I have no idea when the last wagon passed over this route..
Conestoga Road off of Highway 49 follows directly over a section of the Trail.
The Trail crosses modern sections of road in many spots. Using the Truckee Trail and Nevada City Road Driving Guide from Trails West, Inc., I drove to two Trails West markers along the Trail.
These parts of the Sierra foothills are rural and privately owned. No Trespassing signs abound. I greatly prefer poking around the National Forests, where I can get out and stretch my legs and not see a single other person.
I saw no mention in the press today of this being the anniversary of President Kennedy's assassination. Then again, I have not been online much today. But I do remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news. I was in the second grade, playing marbles with my classmates during recess, when a student walked up to tell us the president had been shot. When we returned to the classroom, our teacher told us the same thing. That is all I remember of that day. It was long ago and I was very young.
Today I made a 20 meter SSB contact with an operator in Massachusetts. We discussed the usual boring things, what radios we had and the weather conditions, and then I commented that today was the anniversary of the battles of Lexington and Concord. (I had happened to read this earlier on the History.com website.) The other party said he wasn't aware of this, he didn't follow history. He lives some 30 miles from Lexington. Hopefully his comment was just about not knowing the date of the battles. I live about 25 miles as the crow flies from Coloma, and while I know that James Marshall discovered gold there in January 1848, I can never remember the exact day, the 24th. Living where I do means I should know about James Marshall and the mill site and most importantly the impact of the find. And someone from the Boston area should be familiar with the words Lexington and Concord. We Americans should have a basic understanding of our history.
Private Alyn W. Butler, Company M 110th Infantry, fell in battle in Fismes, France one hundred years ago today. He was the only Roseville resident killed in action in World War I.
His remains were returned in 1939 and interred in Roseville Cemetery. The American Legion's Alyn W. Butler Post No. 169 in Roseville is named in his honor.
On the coming September 15, the City of Fismes will dedicate a memorial to those who served defending their city. Meadville, Pennsylvania and Fismes are sister cities, as many residents of Meadville and Pennsylvania served in the defense of Fismes. Representatives from Meadville will attend the ceremony.
Post Script, September 7, 2018: I marked the anniversary on my calendar over a year ago. About two weeks prior to the anniversary, I notified the Roseville and Granite Bay Press Tribune of the upcoming anniversary, as it was only fitting that Roseville should remember. Reporter Brody Fernandez called me for details. The newspaper ran an article on August 31. However, it got Alyn's age wrong (20 years old) and his unit wrong (110th Infantry Division). It also referenced a great-grandson Harry Butler, but I have found no record of Alyn Butler being married or having any children. He was 19 when he died.
On September 5, I sent an email to the City of Fismes noting the anniversary, adding the photograph and newspaper clipping above. I ended: "God bless the City of Fismes. May the friendship between the United States and France last forever." Later that day, I received a nice response from Denis Queva, General Director of Services, City of Fismes. He mentioned the strong bond between Fismes and the United States, a bond forged from two World Wars, and that he would pass the message on to the neighboring town of Fismette and the Memorial committee. I also received an email from Andy Walker, City Manager of Meadville, Pennsylvania. He said he was part of a group that would travel to Fismes for the memorial dedication, to represent the City of Meadville, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and the United States of America.
My email to Fismes, including headstone photo and newspaper clipping, made it to the Fismes Memorial 18 Facebook page, with my message translated to French. From there, it went into an article in the September 6 edition of the L'Hebdo de Vendridi.
I read about the folks in the far left all the time, and today I drove to Sacramento to see them up close and in action. This event was one of the several Families Belong Together demonstrations being held throughout the country. For over two hours I heard their calls to abolish ICE, end deportations, and welcome immigrants and refugees. I hope these people get plenty of media coverage, and the Democrats fully adopt their message, to help the Republicans in the coming elections.
The demonstration was held in front of the US Citizenship and Immigration Building on Capitol Mall. I have no idea of the crowd size, but people lined both sides of Capitol Mall between 5th and 7th Streets. With demonstrations in Vacaville, Stockton, and Grass Valley, this event largely drew people from the greater Sacramento area. Things kicked off at ten o'clock.
I saw two American flags and one was being flown upside down. There were plenty of red flags. Guess what they represent? And while there were banners and signs for Industrial Workers of the World, Brown Berets, and Party for Socialism and Liberation, most banners I saw were for Democratic Socialists of America. I think Democratic Socialists of America is gaining some traction.
Here is a sampling of the signs people held: Defund ICE / No US Government Child Abuse / The GOP Supports Internment Camps for Kids / No Ban. No Wall. Not Now. Not Ever. / Workers Without Borders / Abolish ICE / Fuck Trump.
Chants from a sheet handed out by organizers:
Up, up with liberation!
Down, down with deportation!
Resistance is liberation
Break the chains
No Ban! No Wall!
Sanctuary for All!
Parents protesting the treatment of illegal immigrant children in detention centers had their very young children with them in the uncomfortable heat (high 90s) and intense sunlight.
While the speakers went on about this and that, a splinter group headed up 7th Street to protest in front of the Sacramento County Main Jail on I Street. This caused much work for the police, who had to divert traffic and otherwise keep things under control. This splinter group returned as things were winding down.
By now it was 12:15. I had seen enough for one day. I headed home.
I saw the total eclipse of the sun from John Day, Oregon.
Two months earlier, I decided to go to Oregon for the eclipse, but wanting to avoid crowds, I ruled out Interstate 5, as it was close to heavy population areas. I considered Madras, near the center of the path of totality, only to find many people had already made their travel plans. Checking travel websites on July 11, I found the nearest available hotel rooms for August 20 were in Bend, 43 miles south of Madras and outside the path of totality - one room went for $487, the other for $1500. That took Madras off my list. I zeroed in on the small town of John Day in eastern Oregon.
News reports in the days leading up to the eclipse warned of heavy traffic and gas shortages. My research showed the nearest gas station from John Day on my route was in Burns, some 70 miles away. Before Burns, gas was available in Lakeview, 145 miles away. I would be traveling through remote and desolate country. Burns out of gas meant John Day out of gas, and I could not drive to John Day and expect to reach Lakeview before running out of gas. Also, I had no idea where I would be staying once I reached John Day. I had never been to this part of Oregon. I envisioned pulling off the side of the road and sleeping in the bed of my truck.
In the darkness of the morning of August 20 I commenced my journey, ascending the Sierra Nevada to Donner Summit, elevation 7227 feet, and thence down into Truckee, and onward to Reno, where I took Highway 395 north. Other than in Reno, I saw little traffic. I entered California at 4:56 AM. Fifteen minutes later there was just enough light to the east for me to make out the hills. I got gas in Susanville. From here the towns would be small and few and far between. Litchfield, population 26 - next services 70 miles. Termo, population 66. Sometimes an oncoming vehicle passed me, but mostly I had the road to myself. I crested a ridge at 5000 feet and looked out on the magnificent expanse of a valley. Entering Modoc County. Entering Likely, population 99. A remote area. The US Army fought the Modocs near here in the early 1870s, in the only campaign of the Indian wars where an Army general, Edward Canby, was killed. Gas in Alturas. Eighteen miles south of Lakeview, some eight northbound vehicles were in a line perhaps a half-mile long, a number that seemed large for these parts. The World War I Veterans Highway commenced at the Oregon border. Gas in Lakeview. Oregon law prohibits vehicle operators from pumping their own gas. I asked the attendant about the availability of gas to John Day. She said not to worry, there was plenty of gas. The road wound along the base of Abert Rim, one of the highest fault scarps in the United States, 2490 feet from rim to valley floor. Then came a stretch of some 60 miles through lava flows, fault escarpments, and sagebrush. A right turn at Riley, one last fill up in Hines (next to Burns), and then it was on to John Day. Still, little traffic. The town of Seneca was on the edge of the path of totality. Wherever I would spend the night, from this point on I would see the total eclipse.
Arriving at John Day, I saw several tents pitched in the athletic field of Grant Union Junior/Senior High School. The school was selling campsites chalked out on a grid on the grass for $100 cash. Those choosing to sleep in their vehicles in the school parking lot were charged $75 cash. Showers and bathrooms were included in the price. This was where I would spend the night, and I gladly paid the $100, knowing it was going to the high school, a good cause. It would be a long time before John Day had another total eclipse, so the school should of course take advantage of this opportunity.
I walked one-half mile to downtown John Day. Incoming traffic was far lighter than what I had expected. A few vendors were selling eclipse-themed items. I ate dinner at the Grubsteak Mining Company restaurant. Returning to the high school, I listened to Dr. James Pesavento's talk on the eclipse. I missed the first thirty minutes, where he covered the scientific aspects, but I heard his discussion of safety. Then came, for me at least, the most important take-away: if this is your first total eclipse, when it arrives, put your camera down and enjoy the experience, for no photograph can capture what is seen with the naked eye.
I awoke at 5:45 AM from a good sleep. The field had filled with tents during the night. Vehicles were still coming to town. Most campers were up and about by seven. I struck my tent and loaded my truck. By 8:30 people were starting to assemble. Some seven telescopes were set up. I talked with various people, most of them Californians.
The eclipse started at 9:08. People occasionally glanced at the sun through their safety glasses. Conversations continued and people walked about. The light still appeared normal so there was not much change in the crowd's behavior.
Minutes before the 10:22 start of the total eclipse, the light began to change, and people began paying attention.
When the total eclipse arrived, we could view the sun and moon without eye protection.
For a little over two minutes, I saw a black ball enveloped by a ring of light, with rays shooting into a dark blue sky. I saw one star - or was it a planet? The temperature dropped. Street lights came on. The crowd gasped, clapped, cheered, and laughed.
And then a bead of light showed itself, signaling the viewers to put on protective glasses. The crowd cheered as the shadows reappeared.
And that was it, the Great Total Eclipse of 2017. People said their goodbyes and prepared to leave. I was on the road within fifteen minutes. Many of us had a long drive ahead of us.
I let my GPS select the route home, and from Burns it took me to Winnemucca. There was a line of traffic to Interstate 80, particularly after we met up with the Idaho and other eastern Oregon traffic coming down Highway 95, but things proceeded smoothly. I passed through Reno, climbed the Sierra, and came down into the Sacramento Valley, arriving home around 8:30 PM, just as the last of rays of sunlight shone to the west.
2017 marks the 137th Bok Kai Festival in Marysville, honoring the water god Bok Eye of the Bok Kai Temple. The parade may date to the construction of the original temple in the 1850s. I've been to several parades, held on a Saturday, but not until today had I gone to Bomb Day, held on Sunday. On Bomb Day, which dates to the 1880s, young men compete to catch "good fortune" rings shot into the air by exploding bombs.
The general public is allowed inside the Taoist temple during the Festival. The frescoes above the entry are among the few remaining of their kind, as similar ones in China were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution.
I don't remember where I first saw on the internet that Congressman Tom McClintock would be giving a town hall meeting at the Tower Theater in Roseville at 10am on February 4. I read about it four days before the event. I made a note and figured if my morning was free I'd attend it. I'd never been to one of his town hall meetings. I envisioned the theater being half full, with McClintock giving a talk about this and that, and taking audience questions about this and that, and that would be that.
Was I a naive one. I forgot we just had an election and there are a lot of angry people.
The first sign something was different was the two women at Washington Boulevard Underpass walking together towards the downtown. They were wearing pink knitted pussy hats. Passing the traffic circle onto Oak Street, I saw more people walking in the direction of the Tower Theater. I pulled into the city parking garage. On most Saturdays there are open slots on the first level. I had to drive to the third level to park.
It was about 9:50 and there was already a large crowd outside the theater on Vernon Street. I regretted leaving the house empty handed. I called my wife and asked her to bring my video gear. The drive is about ten minutes. I waited on Oak Street for her to arrive. I took the video gear, thanked her, and she returned home. By now the town hall meeting was underway.
I don't know exactly how many Trump protesters there were, but the number was in the hundreds. The crowd was concentrated in front of the theater, with a smaller number to the south on Taylor Street. Roseville police officers were about, and they had traffic access blocked on Vernon Street and Taylor Street.
There was some interaction between protesters and the handful of Trump supporters. I saw no violence and heard of none. Some Trump supporters wore Make America Great Again hats.
I found it humorous, as I walked around taking videos, that I'd pass a person with a certain look in their eyes, and I'm sure I had that same certain look in mine, and that person or I would ask, "Are you a Trump supporter?" With the answer in the affirmative, we'd have a brief conversation, and continue on.
What can I say about the Roseville Trump protest that is any different from several protests elsewhere in the news? There were the same chants, the same signs, the same anger. Congressman McClintock left the theater under police escort to his waiting vehicle. The crowd followed him with loud chants.
At the Roseville Trump protest of February 4, 2017, nobody got hurt and no property was damaged.
Walking up the parking garage stairs to the third level, I met a 65 year old woman. We wound up spending some twenty minutes talking about the state of the country. I said I voted for Trump. She said she didn't vote for Trump but she also didn't say who she had voted for. We agreed on more things than we disagreed. The important thing is, we had a conversation. We didn't shout at each other or berate each other. It was a respectful conversation.
Off Auburn Folsom Road in Granite Bay is a small nature preserve that runs along Miners Ravine. The ravine got its name when miners worked its gravels for gold. Today I returned to the preserve, my last visit being many years ago. A half mile loop trail passes a granite outcrop with bedrock mortars where Nisenan women over many centuries ground acorns into meal. Granite forms deep underground. A mountaintop was several miles above here some 128 million years ago. The mountain wore away and filled part of the Sacramento Valley. Now the outcrop is at the base of the relatively young and still-rising Sierra Nevada.
My walk took me to an old oak tree. It stood proud when I last saw it, but since then disease and maybe high winds caused considerable damage.
The oak tree, October 24, 2004
The oak tree, January 21, 2017
Just a side note. The 2004 photograph was taken with slide film. I shot my last roll of slide film in November 2010. The one roll of Velvia slide film in my refrigerator may never be used. Last year I ordered chemicals to process some black and white film, dusted off the darkroom equipment, and made a few prints. It was a lot of money and time for those few prints. Film may never go away but it is not coming back.
Today's inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th president of the United States does not herald a new order of the ages. That new order began with the founding of our country. Trump's presidency will get us closer to the principles of that new order - the people have the power, and America's interests come first. Much work awaits us.
Looking for something to raise our spirits what with all the recent dreadful weather, my wife and I went to the annual Day of the Dead celebration in downtown Sacramento. Normally this is held outdoors but the rains forced it into a parking garage. Still, there were crowds aplenty. This is a Mexican cultural event and most attendees were of Mexican heritage. The Mexican Consulate in Sacramento had a booth. Many of the Anglo visitors were of the liberal persuasion, judging by the serene look on their faces that screamed "Oh! All this multiculturalism!" One white man wore a tee shirt denouncing racism, while being surrounded by folks who identify as La Raza - The Race. Wearing a Trump Make America Great Again cap here would have been foolhardy at best. Taxpayer dollars were being spent having young people in khaki AmeriCorps uniforms help with the event, showing folks how to paint small skulls, that kind of stuff. How sad it is that these youngsters will leave AmeriCorps thinking they engaged in useful work. Better had they spent their time unloading trucks at the receiving dock of a major retail store, to get a taste of what real world work is like. The parking meter was running and I can't be frivolous on things such as personal fun when the government needs my money to give to others. So my wife and I left the parking garage and walked to our car, the sound of mariachi music fading in the distance.
