Julian

The three old timers sat in their designated wooden chairs
on the old wood sidewalk, talking and whittling that morning.
All three had graybeards and wore sweat bearing cowboy
hats. Not a common sight in California, especially in 2003.
They were not whittling anything in particular, just a way to
pass the time like the Checker games used to. That was
before some of their reasoning trotted off into the sunset.

Let’s see, how long ago was that?

They were in their hometown of Julian, which is just about
as high as you can go in the San Berdoo Mountains.
The talk of the day was the forest fire whose angry lips tried
it’s best to kiss this little town.
So far the fighters that circled Julian had kept it out but God,
it was getting hard to breathe.

One man decided to change the subject, no easy matter today,
but after a couple of tries he succeeded.

Remember old Llew? Heck yes! Had that old Gold Mine up
there. Had the Washington Hotel too but they came from
LA and tore it down a few years ago. Remember?
The other two nodded a yes.
Old Llew’s wife sure died young huh?
Ya, but remember those two boys they had?

What were their names?

One man perked up, I remember.
The oldest was Lou, the little one was Bobby.
That dynamite, remember?
Lou drilled the mine and put the dynamite in, remember?
Boy that kid was a tough little rascal, huh?

One coughed from the fire smoke.

I think Bobby was the water boy, maybe not. But I
think so.
I remember, you old fart, sure he was!
Carried the water to the miners all summer long. He
was a tough one too. Did ya hear his boy came to our
little museum last year? I hear he came all the way from
Hawaii just to look at the old pictures and stuff of the
mines and his Grandpa’s Hotel.
Naa, that can't be right.
All three laughed, why in Gods name would anybody
come all the way here from across the Ocean to look
at pictures?

One man drifted back as he whittled.

Ya know that fire wont make it here. Julian has been
here too long. Remember that fire in the 50s, it never
got here.
Everybody agreed. One did not remember but shook
his head too.
Why would it want to take three like us out? It’s been
getting those poor folks down the hill with the big
fancy houses. Hell, our time is left to finding good
sticks to whittle on. The Manzanita has been gone
a long time and it was the best.

Remember those kids that always wanted us to whittle
them another slingshot?

Used to get those Red Inner Tubes from old Cars for
makin um with but hell, haven’t seen one of those in years.
Hey I just remembered something! Old Llews Kids, Lou
and Bobby worked for that Edison Power Company
built the electric lines all over.

The other two laughed.

Now how do you remember that?
'Cause I know it was the little one, Bobby, I saw up here
once in one of them Yellow Trucks they have. Hell,
remember them trucks with the drilling thing on 'um?
Boy, that kid could sure play baseball, member? Had
those games in the summer here and then he and the
other Julian boys would get on that wagon and ride all
the way to San Diego to play once or twice.
Remember?

Now you can’t remember something like that. You’re
just showin off again! You make us old men tired with
that showin off stuff.

One coughed from the smoke again.

I am not! I do too remember!
He had that jet-black hair. Lots of it too. Now Lou
didn’t have much and I hear he didn’t have any later on.
Lady down at our museum told me that young one
had a lot of trouble later on from drinkin' too much
Whiskey too.
The other two looked at each, shook their heads but
argued no more and all three whittled their sticks.

Like most days in Julian, silence came.

The circle of fire fighters saved Julian. My son Bobby,
who lives in San Diego, cleaned the graves of my
Grandpa Llew, Uncle Lou and Dad, Bobby of the ashes
left by the fire.
God Bless the Fire Fighter that died in that fire. He was
from Novato, that’s in Northern California and the same
town we all lived in when I worked for the San Francisco
Chronicle.

I was in Julian last year before the fire, making copies of
the old pictures and mine deeds.
Just got back from 2-years in Kona, Hawaii.
A picture of the Washington Hotel can be seen as you
walk into the Museum.

As I ruffled around that day, the same thought kept coming
“Life was Simple Then”

I’d love to have just one day of it.