Category: random

‘Corky’ Simms passed away November 17, 2013, at his home in Klamath after a three-year battle with cancer. He was born on January 10, 1935, at Kapel, on the Klamath River, to Doris Roberts and raised by Hector Simms.

After his service in the United States Marines, he returned home to work as pile driver, and then went on to work in masonry. He taught many young Yurok tribal members the ways of the Klamath River and how to carry on the traditions that he lived by.

An incident from the mid-70’s remains cemented in my mind. In a conversation with Marge Paul, who owned and operated “Paul’s Cannery,” jus’ north of the new Klamath town site, Corky had ‘strong native energy.’

He was being chased by the law from U.S. 101 up Requa Road, reaching speeds in excess of 90-miles an hour, when he decided to ditch his car in the river between the Patapoff’s home and the Requa Inn. Officers saw his car hit the water and sink with him in it.

Deputies, officers from the highway patrol and volunteer firefighters spent hours searching the river bank for him. It was believed that after escaping the car, Corky either doubled-back and got out of the water under the authorities nose’s or he swam across the river to the southern bank.

Mrs. Paul had a third explanation and swore it was the truth . She said Corky turned himself into a salmon and swam up river to Paul’s cannery, where deputies would later find him sitting at the bar sipping a beer, in dry clothes.

I lived around the Rez long-enough to learn there are things that ‘white-man medicine’ cannot explain.

He is survived by his wife, Brenda Simms; brother Don Natt; sister Amanda Donahue; mother of his children Vada Berry; daughters Winter Berry and Malea Simms; step-daughter Shannon and husband Jon Richards. He was preceded in death by his parents and brothers, Skee Skelton and Butch Lewis.

While researching the Century Airline crash killing two people when it slammed into Castle Rock and burst into flames during March of 1980, I learned about a crash that began while 21-miles above the Mohave Desert. On that Tuesday, December 10th, 1963, the jet was being test-piloted by Colonel Chuck Yeager.

A newspaper report from the following day reads, “His rocket-boosted NF-104 Starfighter smashed to earth near the intersection’s of U.S. 6 and U.S. 466, one of the most heavily traveled points in a desert area otherwise free of traffic or habitation.”

The intersection has since been replaced by SR-14 and SR-58. But what makes this so unique is that pieces of that Starfighter were found only seven miles west of Crescent City, California, roughly 700-miles from where the crash originated.

Aerospace historian Peter W. Merlin writes, “We first visited this site in 1992. It has been picked over quite a bit since then by a number of people including some who were selling the pieces. In 2011, we took Yeager to the site, the first time he had been back since 1963.”

Yeager’s most famous flight came 16-years earlier in 1947, when he flew the X-1 rocket plane at 700 miles-per-hour to become the first man to break the sound barrier. Tom Wolfe adapted the 1963 crash in his 1979 book, “The Right Stuff,” and later depicted in the 1983 movie based on the book.

In the later part of my junior year in high school the re-examination of the President John Fitzgerald Kennedy assassination was nearing its crescendo. While everyone in class was being forced to read such books as “Lord of the Rings,” or “Ragdoll,” I was working my way through three books on the conspiracies surrounding JFK’s death: “The Secret Team: The CIA and Its Allies in Control of the United States and the World,” “The Death of a President: November 20–November 25, 1963,” and “Beyond the Gemstone File.”

The teacher’s name was Miss Fitzgerald, an irony lost on me at the time, and after making my case to her, she relented and allowed me to finish the books and write a report on each one. In the end she was unhappy with my final thoughts on the subject and awarded be a B-minus for my work.

What she took aim at was the fact that I felt that while Lee Harvey Oswald, may have acted alone, firing at the Presidents motorcade, striking first a traffic light, which fragments and bit ricocheted, hitting both the President causing him to exclaim, “God, I’ve been hit,” and injuring a bystander named James Teague. Her other point was that I felt Oswald did hit the President as well as Governor John Connally, but he didn’t fire the fatal shot.

Much has been made of the so-call ‘pristine’ bullet found at Parkland Hospital over the five decades since it happened. However, every picture I’ve seen of this bullet, and many were published in these three books, the bullet is damaged. Furthermore, from what I gathered from those books, Connally was sitting lower and further to the left of the President when the pair were struck, making the ‘pristine’ and the ‘magic bullet the same.

It is called the ‘magic’ bullet because the Warren Commission had it changing direction at least twice in mid-flight, something physics says it impossible. Furthermore, I pointed out in my school report that this was the bullet fired by Oswald, thus showing he did shoot the President.

However, I carried my belief out to the point Miss Fitzgerald, could not abide with my conclusion. I read and reported that the bullet that passed through Kennedy and hitting Connally was 6 mm, while the hole in the base of Kennedy’s head was 8 mm, showing two different weapons were fired.

My conclusion, based on the behavior of the Secret Service and the fact that the detail behind the President’s car had a AR-15 in it, that the shot came from the Secret Service detail. Initially, the Secret Service failed to tell the FBI of the weapon when asked, then admitted during official testimony.

This is also supported by the fact that the Secret Service interfered with the handling of the President’s body at Parkland Hospital by denying Texas authorities to complete an autopsy there. It was made worse by their apparent interference of the autopsy proceedings at Bethesda Medical Center in Maryland.

There is also the witness testimonies taken by police on the day that say they saw a Secret Service agent with the AR-15. Many of those same witnesses stated that this same agent fell backwards in the seat as the third shot was heard.

Follow this up with the reports of the rifle shots coming first two coming with a slight gap between them and the second and three shot being rapid in succession. Lastly, several people told investigators they distinctly smell gun smoke after the report of the third shot.

As for me on that fatal day, I was barely three-years-old; however I have a clear recollection of my mother and our next-door neighbor sitting on the couch, crying as they watched television. Our neighbor was a Korean woman and she had her elastic pants on backwards.

Also I remember my father coming home, getting some gear, and kissing Mom before leaving. And, though I cannot swear to this, I seem to recall watching Walter Cronkite that day, delivering the news that the President was dead as well as the live shooting a couple of days later of Oswald by Jack Ruby.

I qualify this because I’ve seen those two pieces of historical footage time again since, and it could have caused a ‘false memory,’ for me.

Year’s later both of my parents, who were great Kennedy supporters, would talk of the assassination. From them I learned, Dad was gone for nearly two-weeks and that the greatest fear At Mather Air Force Base, in Sacramento at the time was the possible involvement of the Soviets.

We also had the book, “Four Days: The Historical Record of the Death of President Kennedy,” in our home. I must have thumbed through it a couple of dozen times as a kid.

For all of this I got a lesser grade than I thought I deserved, but at least I passed her class and didn’t have to bother with diagramming sentences or reading books which held no interest for me. Finally, everything I wrote then as now, is mere speculation and will be, as so much time has passed since the assassination that, barring new evidence, no one living then or today will ever know what really happened.

They purchased the Angus-cross bull from Harold Del Ponte when the animal was jus’ a couple of days old. Larry Bush and his wife, Audrey took the animal, they named ‘Bahamas’ to their Klamath Glen home, raising him on the bottle.

‘Bahamas’ was two-and-a-half years old, when on December 22nd, 1964, a flood washed him down the river, into the Pacific Ocean and finally into the Crescent City Harbor. He was rescued by some men, including Dave Steward, and was extremely ill from his 16-mile ordeal.

When Audrey went to the harbor to see if it was their steer, the animal stood up for the first time and came right to her. The Bush’s were planning to give him to Crescent City so he would have a place to live out the rest of his life.

But, before that could be done, some of the rescuers hired an attorney and sued to keep him, with the idea of butchering the Angus-mix. It was local brand inspector, Lyle Corliss, who decided the steer belonged to the Bush’s, ending the litigation.

Fees for the steers rescue, the vet, upkeep and attorneys were piling up. Several people including George and Millie Merriman, Colin Henninger and Wally Griffin helped pay them.

Later, the rescue fee was returned after one people who led the rescue was slated to receive an award from the National Humane Society. Unfortunately, that award-winners’ name appears obscured from public records.

‘Bahamas’ was taken to Dr. Vipond’s ranch, near Lake Earl, where he lived through 1967. He was then moved to Bush’s cousin, Alvin Larson’s place in Requa.

Eventually, Bush and his brother, Norman asked Klamath resident, Andy MacBeth to take over the care of the steer. It’s believed MacBeth was the one who made arrangements with the animal’s original owner, Del Ponte to put ‘Bahamas,’ now renamed ‘Captain Courageous,’ out to pasture and on display.

‘Captain Courageous’ lived a long and peaceful life, dying in the spring of 1983. Fourteen years later, a monument to ‘Captain Courageous’ was erected at the south end of the new Klamath town site, next to the two original Golden Bears salvaged from the bridge destroyed by the flood.

While the old Modoc chief remained in the reservation, Kintupash returned to Lost River and lead an abusive harassment against the white settlers who had occupied the area. The small Modoc group of about 43 Indians demanded rent for the occupation of “their land”, which most settlers paid.

After a few attempts to negotiate in behalf of the complaining settlers, including failed attempts by Agent Lindsay Applegate in 1864–6 and Superintendent Huntington in 1867, the Modoc finally relocated in 1869 following a council between Kintpuash; Alfred B. Meacham, the US Superintendent of Indian Affairs for Oregon that replaced Huntington; O.C. Knapp, the US Indian agent on the reservation; Ivan D. Applegate, sub-agent at Yainax on the reservation; and W.C. McKay.

Meacham was from Oregon, and knew Captain Jack and the Modoc.

When soldiers suddenly appeared at the meeting, the Modoc warriors fled, leaving behind their women and children. Meacham placed the women and children in wagons and started for the reservation.

He allowed “Queen Mary”, Captain Jack’s sister, to go meet with Captain Jack to persuade him to move to the reservation. She succeeded.

Once on the reservation, Captain Jack and his band prepared to make their permanent home at Modoc Point.

Washoe County’s Regional Transportation Commission has been awarded a $4.6 million grant to purchase three electric buses. The 35-foot buses will replace three diesel buses and will operate from the Riverwalk District downtown to the University of Nevada, Reno.

So far, where the money for these buses came from no one is saying. Hopefully the citizens of Nevada nor the U.S. are footing this bill.

Officials say the vehicles have fast-charging lithium-ion batteries and fuel cell auxiliary power needed for air conditioning in high desert climate. The grants were announced by Nevada’s U.S. Senator Harry Reid — which explains a lot about the late Friday afternoon presser.

Not even Reid’s senate website explains where the $4.6 million grant originated. This is disturbing as it appears there is a reason to hide the information.

Finally — while the emissions the buses produce will be diminished and this is no doubt good for the environment, this isn’t good for the economy. Somewhere in the county, some business that depends on selling fuel to the RTC is suddenly left without the income brought in by filling those three buses with diesel.

It’s a shame the greening of society doesn’t include people’s bank accounts.

Sometimes I get so wound up in my own self interests, that I forget about the people in my life. This includes family and friends.

This comes to mind after going to the mall with a friend and helping her look for a new dress to wear to her company’s Christmas party.

Believe it or not — I had fun. It has been ages since I’ve done something, anything out of the ‘norm,’ that I had forgotten what it was like.

While we were unable to find a suitable dress, I did realize the simple act of helping her, made me feel happy, energetic and creative. Who knew that a so-called ‘he-man,’ and ‘hard-ass’ male could enjoy himself in the women’s department.

Some may call it ironic — but I’ll simply say — it’s been a great day.

Born in Dublin, Ireland, November 28th, 1831 and while still a child John MacKay was brought to New York City by his parents. He lived with them in Park Row, working in the ship-building trade as an apprentice, until early in 1852, when he went to New Orleans and from there sailed for Chagris, crossed the Isthmus of Panama, and from Panama he went by steamer to San Francisco.

In the summer of that year he went up the Sacramento River, landed at Marysville and started to walk to Nevada City. While on the road, “Curley Bill,” the stage driver, gave him a free ride for a part of the way, something Mackay never forgot.

In fact, the Mackay family took care of “Curley Bill,” whose name was actually William Garhart, until his death at 76 on August 2nd, 1904.

From 1852 up to the fall of 1859 Mr. Mackay mined at Downieville, Forest City, Sierra City and on the American River, making a specialty of placer and drift mining with varied fortune. In December, 1859, he and “Jack” O’Brien went over the Sierra Nevada Mountains from Downieville to Virginia City, Carson County, Utah.

Carson County was made a Territory in 1863, called Nevada Territory, becoming the State of Nevada in 1864. On his arrival in Virginia City he went to work in Cook Tunnel, at first as a miner at $4 a day, but he soon became most expert in timbering a mine to sustain the roof, and because “of his efficiency received $6 per day.

He gradually accumulated money, and in 1861, with John Henning, he went to Aurora and bought the Esmeralda Claim. This venture proving a failure, he returned to Virginia City and joined with J. M. Walker in building the Petaluma Mill at Gold Hill, which turned out to be a profitable enterprise.

Walker introduced Mackay to James C. Flood and William S. O’Brien, of San Francisco. The four carried on operations for several years, and then James G. Fair became a member of the group, each having a one-fifth interest.

Walker finally said that he was rich enough, so he sold his one-fifth interest to Mackay and, went back to the State of Virginia, where his brother was Governor. This gave Mackay a two-fifths interest in the business.

Mackay, Fair, Flood and O’Brien obtained control of the Gould and Curry, Best and Belcher, Consolidated Virginia and California mines. Mackay and Fair studied the characteristic features of the great lode to ascertain if the indications might lead to valuable ore bodies.

Neither Mackay nor Fair had any previous experience with ledges or schooling as geologists. What they acquired in the way of mining lore was in the hard school of experience.

It was the theory of Mackay and Fair that the old workings in the Consolidated Virginia and California, if explored, would reveal a good deal of low grade ore which had been passed, but which might be profitably worked with reduced cost in transportation and reduction. After six months’ exploration very little had been realized, and it was determined that they should go to the bottom of the Curry shaft, 1,200 feet deep, and drift north, on the theory that it would be through virgin ground.

Then, if the Ophir and Mexican surface-ores had any counterpart in the depths, by the strike of the vein, it would probably be on the line of such drift. This was done and the drift passed from the Curry shaft 150 feet north through the Curry ground, the 700 feet of the Best and Belcher, and 150 feet into the Consolidated Virginia (all the way through blasting rock), where the “big Bonanza” was struck about 30 feet below its apex.

Had the drift been 40 feet higher, the Bonanza might have remained undisturbed to this day. From that single ore body $119,000,000 in gold and silver was taken, and $67,000,000 paid in dividends.

Mackay married Marie Louise Bryant (daughter of Colonel Daniel E. Hungerford, a Mexican war veteran), in 1867 at Virginia City. They continued to live there until 1874, when they went to San Francisco, but Mackay himself passed most of his time in Virginia City.

In 1876 they went abroad and lived in London and Paris. Mackay frequently returned to Virginia City and later to New York City to take charge of his cable and telegraph interests, but he was often in London where Mrs. Mackay resided and still resides at No. 6 Carlton House Terrace.
She was a widow when Mackay married her, and by her former husband had one daughter, the Princess di Stiglianno Colonna. The Mackay’s had two sons.

The oldest, John William, was thrown from a horse and killed on October 18th, 1895. The younger son, Clarence, survived; devoting himself to carrying on the enterprises he inherited from his father.

During the six months after the great fire in Virginia City, by the express desire of Mackay, Bishop Monogue drew upon him for the poor of the city checks to the amount of $150,000, and every one was honored. For years he met the expenses of the Sisters’ Orphan Hospital at Virginia City at about $5,000 a month.

In politics Mackay was a Republican. he was twice offered the United States Senator seat from Nevada once in 1874 and again in 1880 but he declined.

At one time he seriously contemplated the building of a line of great transatlantic steamers. However, he turned to submarine cables and land telegraph lines.

He found in 1884 a strongly entrenched monopoly the Western Union Telegraph Company with no opposition on the Atlantic Ocean and only a few scattering, badly organized and insolvent competitors on land. That year he laid two submarine cables from America to Europe, through The Commercial Cable Company which he had organized in 1883.

Two years later, in 1886, Mackay organized the Postal Telegraph-Cable Company, and commenced the construction of land telegraph lines throughout the United States. It had been the boast of the Western Union that no telegraph company in competition with them had ever paid a dividend.

And that was true up to that date. The trouble was that no competitive company had ever been able to cover the whole United States, and the public would not patronize a telegraph line that did not reach all important points.

The third step in building up the Postal Telegraph-Commercial Cable System was in laying a cable from San Francisco across the Pacific Ocean to Honolulu, Manila, China and Japan 10,000 miles. Mackay was engaged in this at the time of his death and the work was completed by his son Clarence.

In 1902 Mr. Mackay was spending the summer in London with his wife and looking after the European side of his telegraph and cable interests. While there he died suddenly, July 20th, 1902, at the age of 72.

Hundreds of people turned out for the George E. Tryon Bridge dedication on Big Flat Road in July of 1957. Mrs. Tryon received the dedication to her late husband and flowers from Bailey Steward, former Board Chairman.

The existing historic 206-foot long, two-lane, steel, spandrel deck arch bridge, built-in 1948, crosses the South Fork of the Smith River. The main arch span is 140-foot long.

Members of state, county, and local government, and members of Del Norte County’s pioneer families were present for the occasion. They honored Tyron for his efforts at constructing roads and bridges in the county.

Senator Randolph Collier spoke of the improvements and modernization of the road system and dedicated a plaque placed on the bridge bearing Tyron’s name. Assemblyman Frank Bellotti also spoke as did Supervisor Austin Hunter, City Councilman Bernard McClendon, and Harold Del Ponte, Vic Meedom, Fred Haight, and future U. S. Congressman Don Clausen.

In September 2013, a $34,700 contract to replace the old structure went to Flatiron West Inc. Estimated construction costs range from $7 to $11 million, with work slated to begin in 2015.

Known as “Trinidad” or the “Klamath River” station, Radar Station B-71 was built between 1942 and 1943 in response to Japanese attacks on U.S. soil during World War II.

In total, the Army built 65 stations spanning from the Canadian border and into Mexico. But this particular one, located in the coastal bluffs south of Klamath, is different from all the others – it looked like a barn.

However, there were no tractors or cows on this farm, jus’ 50-caliber machine guns, armed soldiers and military police with guard dogs to protect the property. It took 35 Army Air Corps men working in shifts to cover 24 hours.

Many people believe the U.S. was attacked by the Japanese in World War only once, on December 7th, 1941 at Pearl Harbor. The fact is the West Coast was attacked a number of times and even invaded once in the Alaskan Aleutian Islands.

The Japanese struck oil refineries and tankers – including the S.S. Emidio off the coast of Del Norte County. Many of the attacks came from torpedoes shot by Japanese submarines, but other attacks came from above, including an incendiary bomb dropped from a plane between Smith River, California and Brookings, Oregon.

The Aircraft Warning Service oversaw the network of radar stations, including B-71. According to the 1942 Signal Corp Field Manual, Aircraft Warning Service, its mission was to “observe the movement of aircraft and to collect and exhibit the information obtained” in order to protect the nation’s coasts and adjacent territories and bases against enemy attack by land or by sea.

Its functions included: organizing and training military observation posts and non military observers; installing, operating and maintaining observation posts; providing “suitable signal communications equipment for the transmission of information and orders”; providing information centers; and coordinating the activities of the Aircraft Warning Service with other military agencies.

In addition to its general defensive mission, the defense command had to coordinate with the adjacent country’s military, such as in the West where the defense command had liaisons with the Canadian military and naval authorities as well as Mexican commanders of military areas and garrisons. In December 1941, the Western Defense Command was established with headquarters in San Francisco.

It oversaw nine western states as well as Alaska and the Aleutians. There were also three associated Air Forces: Fourth Air Force, Second Air Force, and the Alaskan Air Force.

The best descriptive information about the station comes from the recollections of First Lieutenant Dale Birdsall, who was Station Commander for a time during World War II. He commanded the radar station until September 1943 when he left for the 653rd Signal, AW Company, Hamilton Field, California and spoke to National Park representatives in 1988 about his time at the station.

Birdsall recounted, “I took command of the unit which was transferred from Santa Rosa Island very shortly after they arrived at Klamath. The exact dates I do not make available but I assumed command early in June 1943.”

At the time of Birdsall’s command, the radar crew consisted of forty-one enlisted men from the Army Air Corps and two officers, with a National Guard unit attached to the station for security. Although the local residents knew the purpose of the station, “a real effort was made to keep station activities and mission as secret as possible.

Personnel “originally lived in the old Klamath Grange hall in the center of the town of Klamath,” located to the east of the station, but by personnel lived in newly constructed barracks located to the south of town. During their off duty hours, the men frequented Klamath’s bars, gambled, fished, and attended movies at the local movie theater.

Several structures and features that were once vital parts of Radar Station B-71’s operation have since disappeared. There was a guard post at the entrance located near what is now the Coastal Drive and the trail that leads down to the terrace on which the station is located, whose task “was mainly to verify a person’s authority to enter.”

A National Guard unit, consisting of eight to twenty personnel and one officer, not only manned the post, but also filled the roving guard position. For protection, there were also three machine gun emplacements described as measuring 12′ in diameter and holding 50 caliber machine guns on anti-aircraft mounts which contradicts Birdsall’s recollection.

Birdsall said there were two 50-caliber water-cooled anti-aircraft machine guns and 45 caliber Thompson sub-machine guns. The enlisted men also provided security since they were armed with one M-l or Enfield 30-06, while each officer had one 45-caliber automatic pistol.

While B-71 did not see action, one event does stand out. During mid-July 1943, around 2 a.m., the station received a call from the San Francisco Information Center from a Radar Officer saying they had just been notified by the Coast Guard their patrol in Crescent City had reported that the ‘enemy’ was landing in large numbers on Crescent Beach and they should take any steps necessary to protect their situation.

Jus’ the day before, the station had received it’s 50 caliber machine guns, shipped in boxes and covered with Cosmoline, a very heavy protective grease that could only be removed in boiling water.” The station was in an uproar as personnel tried to arm themselves and work out a ‘defense’ plan because they only had plans for cases of sabotage.

Two hours later, the San Francisco Information Center called again stating “the Coast Guard patrol had sent the wrong coded message.” Instead of an imminent enemy landing, the Coast Guard had meant to report “lights had been sighted at sea.”

In July of 1944, Radar Station B-71 no longer searched for enemy crafts and was instead used as an emergency rescue station through the end of the war. At first, the detachment to the radar station was assigned to Company 653rd Signal Aircraft Warning to 4th Air Force and later to Squadron 411th AAF Base Unit of the 4th Air Force.

Following the war’s end, the station was abandoned and ownership reverted back to E.H. & A. Chapman, from whom the War Department had leased the land. On April 14, 1978, Station B-71 was registered on the National Register of Historic Places.