GHOSTS AND SPIRITS OF THE DEAD-HERE.

The Mother Lode has an abundance of ghosts and spirits that reside or at least visit local hotels. Why hotels? Well, each has its own story. Columbia's Fallon House, had a paranormal researcher use high tech instruments to see if they were haunted. His conclusion? "Yup, You've got ghosts." Visitors and employees have reported ghosts in the Murphys Hotel, Jamestown's National Hotel and Willow Hotel. Columbia's City Hotel, Dorrington's only hotel, Sonora's Gunn House, and Groveland's Hotel Charlotte. But, the most well known is the Hotel Leger in Mokelumne Hill. The ghost has been continually reported from the early gold mining days and people still get spooked in the old inn. None of the ghosts are dangerous, some hug men, others tuck you into your sheets or move things about. So, if you are looking, come on up and try one of the rooms. The employees know which rooms are most likely to experience a visit.

What gets my attention are stories from children who have no idea what sensationalism is all about. Like the 9 year old boy who told his mother, as they drove by a certain spot, on a street in their new neighborhood. "That's where the car hit me!"   She ignored it the first time. Then, when he described being on his bike, and dying. She objected, but he was so chillingly serious she became intent on debunking and defusing his constant attention to that place. She talked to people in the neighborhood, and discovered newspaper articles about a boy who was killed in that exact manner, at that exact spot, many years earlier.

If I knew the mother? But I don't. Still, I've heard a number of them and they give me pause. I have to ask myself, why would a mother put her reputation and that of her child at risk to ridicule? And what benefit does such a tale serve them? Unless it happens to me, I guess I'll never know.

LETTEROSIS

Jan Knudsen coined the word "Letterosis" to explain her fascination with natural or manmade forms that suggest letters. She photographs them and makes words out of the photos. Her letter signs appear in a number of galleries and in Piazza of Murphys. Piazza advertises its goods as Soaps to Sofas. Its a fun place and I particularly like the letters because I had one of my "accumulation attacks" way back in the eighties and gathered from magazines and posters interesting graphic letters. I glued them to flash cards and managed several alphabets, both upper and lower case. And I thought I was the only weird one out there.

Jan got into a competition to find letters in ordinary objects with her sister, and claims they realized it was a "sickness" they shared. Jan went on to create a business out of her obsession.
There is beauty in everything. Not a sickness, nor weird, really. The simple objected rendered as art.
If you type Letterosis into a search engine you'll get three pages of Jan's outreach into galleries, her appearances and workshops.
She hails from Groveland and is doing what she loves.
I particularly liked the flowers in hope and joy. So appropriate.

BIG OAK FLAT, GROVELAND

Jim and I decided to poke around the small towns of Big Oak Flat and Groveland. Big Oak Flat was named for a massive Oak Tree on a flat where gold miners decided to settle. While sitting under this stellar tree a miner happened to scrubble around in the dirt and came up with a nugget. The race was on, and the townspeople began digging around the oak until they killed this giant. The great skeleton stood for many years. When I first visited the town about 25 years ago, there was a marker where the tree once stood. We didn't find it. The highway had been widened, it was unkempt and uninviting looking and we probably didn't look hard enough.
We moved on to Groveland which has grown considerably since my last visit. It looks prosperous. The Iron Door Saloon is the oldest continuously operating saloon in the state, since 1857. The building has been occupied since 1852. Colorful and busy, with a ceiling plastered with dusty dollars and a picturesque old bar, its traditional to stop and swill a beer. Good stuff! Some locals still refer to the town as Garrote, after a sensational hanging in the town, followed by a second sensational hanging. Life in this gold town got more sophisticated and they changed the rowdy name to Groveland. I kind of like the historic name better, just because it is historical.
Little gold towns have their pokey, mostly to keep drunks until they sobered up. In this one, so the story goes, the jailer would often leave the door unlocked so the drunk could sober up and walk home when he was ready. Drunkenness rarely required the county magistrate.

The most beautiful building on the street is the stately Groveland Hotel.

We went on to Groveland's Oktoberfest held on a big ranch outside of town. It was decidedly local in flavor, more like a school carnival. They had a tub of huge zuchinnis and we wondered whether they were part of a contest? Or "Please take some home?" (The picture wouldn't load.)