 A map of the San Francisco & Northwestern route and many other railroads in Humboldt County at the time. The first railroad to reach Shively, CA (formerly Bluff Prairie) was the San Francisco & Northwestern Railroad (SF&NW), based in Eureka, CA., an affiliate railroad of the Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe (AT&SF) rail company. AT&SF and Southern Pacific (SP) had a fierce rivalry over who would pierce the redwood curtain of Humboldt County first with a major rail connection. In their feud, the two corporate giants bought out many small railroads throughout Humboldt, Mendocino, Sonoma, and Marin counties. SP prioritized the acquisition of existing railroads between San Francisco and Willits, such as the California Northwestern Railroad, while AT&SF focused on existing railroads within Humboldt County.  The South (railroad west) portal of tunnel 39 through Shively Bluff has been overtaken by brush and debris. AT&SF’s purchase of the Eel River & Eureka Railroad and the Pacific Lumber Company’s (PLC) railroad provided existing trackage between Eureka and PLC’s Camp Nine just south of Scotia. Following this purchase, the SF&NW sought to expand beyond Camp Nine to the soon-to-be communities of Elinor and Shively. This required several substantial projects, including the erection of a massive trestle over Stitz Creek and boring a new tunnel through Shively Bluff. In February 1903, The Ferndale Enterprise reported, “there no longer seems to be any doubt but when Humboldt is to have a railroad connection with the outside world...Shively Bluff will be tunneled.”  A photo of Shively Bluff itself, which is the land feature that tunnel 39 was bored through. On 20 March 1903, the first heavy work on the 1,019.4’ long tunnel through Shively Bluff commenced. General Manager Porter oversaw the project and relayed updates to local newspapers. The tunnel was primarily blasted through with dynamite, which was incredibly dangerous. The dynamite had to be brought in along with most of the other necessary supplies via ship to Humboldt Bay. The dangers of dynamite, soft strata, and caving sand made the task difficult. Landslides outside the south (railroad west) portal also provided a recurring obstacle for the crews to address. Despite the difficulties, work progressed into the summer months at an increased rate of speed. By 24 June 1904, the tunnel was reported to have been halfway completed, and “there was much rejoicing and handshaking among the workmen.” However, there was still much work and ample opportunity for conditions to take a turn. Charles Helborne, one of the tunnel workmen, was likely killed due to a workplace injury. Helborne reported that he felt “dizzy” and was sent to the PLC’s hospital in Scotia to be seen by Dr. Pryor. Upon arrival, Pryor diagnosed Helborne with a “cerebral hemorrhage” and ordered him to seek further medical assistance in Eureka. Unfortunately for Helborne, his condition worsened in the considerable amount of time it took for him to arrive, and he later succumbed to his injuries in Eureka’s New Grand Hotel. Although it does not explicitly say it in the article, it is likely that Helborne was part of the tunnel’s blasting crew. He was the only individual reported as a fatality during the construction period.  Caving sand has remained an issue in tunnel 39 since its completion and has collapsed inside the north (railroad east) portal. Early in the morning on 19 March 1954, a 40,000 cubic yard slide cascaded down into the Eel River at milepost 247.0 near tunnel 39. The slide left the rail twisted, trees gnarled, and the roadbed was carried away completely out from under the tracks. The event brought crews and massive equipment to the scene within hours. The PLC and local contractor Louie Connor provided eight bulldozers to ensure that the NWP reopened as quickly as possible. It took two days to reopen the line and, undoubtedly, cost tens of thousands in lost revenue and expenditures. In 1955, parent company SP sought to discontinue its NWP passenger service to Eureka. SP hoped to reduce its yearly operating costs from $317,000 to $120,000 by eliminating the service altogether. Residents of Shively joined the opposition to SP’s proposal and cited multiple reasons for continuing what they considered a vital service. The poor condition of the county road brought on by winter weather routinely cut off road access to the community, which made rail service a viable alternative. The worst flood on record (at that time) occurred in December 1955, which flooded Shively and destroyed much of the NWP’s right-of-way.By September 1904, the tunnel was “practically completed except laying rails,” which was a massive achievement. However, a month later, 100 feet of the south end began caving in, although it was quickly addressed before the onset of the wet season. Work started in May 1904 to extend the tunnel's track south (railroad west), until a major storm front roared into Humboldt County in January 1905, hindering further work. Those who lived at the tunnel camp explained that they would “not be surprised if this whole bluff found its way into the river, as slides are continuously occurring there.” The onslaught of winter was upon the north coast, and all the crews could do was wait out the season and hope their work would survive. Fortunately for them, the tunnel withstood its first winter season. The work was ultimately a success for the SF&NW crews, although the company’s use of the tunnel and the trackage to Shively was short-lived. The Northwestern Pacific Railroad Company was created in 1907, and the Shively tunnel was incorporated as tunnel 39 of the NWP’s railroad route between Sausalito and Eureka. Shively naturally became the new hub for supplies brought in to bridge “The Gap” between Willits and Eureka (1907-1914). In April 1910, 400 cans of blasting powder, 40 cases of dynamite, and 43 tons of spikes were delivered to the town. A railroad depot was constructed in 1910, and a two-story hotel for expected tourists soon followed in 1911. The town’s population grew again when the PLC announced its plan to log 40 acres within the area the same year. Led more families who moved to the lumber town and established a general store, warehouse, and offices. Shively remained a notable stop and scenic area for visitors riding the NWP to Eureka from Sausalito.  Keep in mind that we did not know what was in front of us until this photo was taken and reviewed. At this point, we decided that we had seen enough and that it was time to leave. Early in the morning on 19 March 1954, a 40,000 cubic yard slide cascaded down into the Eel River at milepost 247.0 near tunnel 39. The slide left the rail twisted, trees gnarled, and the roadbed was carried away completely out from under the tracks. The event brought crews and massive equipment to the scene within hours. The PLC and local contractor Louie Connor provided eight bulldozers to ensure that the NWP reopened as quickly as possible. It took two days to reopen the line and, undoubtedly, cost tens of thousands in lost revenue and expenditures.
In 1955, parent company SP sought to discontinue its NWP passenger service to Eureka. SP hoped to reduce its yearly operating costs from $317,000 to $120,000 by eliminating the service altogether. Residents of Shively joined the opposition to SP’s proposal and cited multiple reasons for continuing what they considered a vital service. The poor condition of the county road brought on by winter weather routinely cut off road access to the community, which made rail service a viable alternative. The worst flood on record (at that time) occurred in December 1955, which flooded Shively and destroyed much of the NWP’s right-of-way. The Eel River rose to flood stage in December 1964 to previously unseen levels, which drove sixty-eight Shively residents from their homes. The engorged waters overtook the homes and barns of the community, and the railroad became a “buffer...and by Wednesday morning, the entire population was quartered in houses on the east side of the tracks.” Even the structures on the east side of the tracks, including the school, store, and church, were reported to be inundated by four feet of water. As a result, all structures west of the tracks, including the NWP depot, were completely overwhelmed, and the community was effectively cut off from road access in all directions. Supplies were airdropped in parachutes by the Eureka civil defense center to those who remained stranded. The flood completely wiped out the neighboring communities of Pepperwood and Dyerville (near South Fork). Shively continued to make headlines regarding the NWP over the next few decades despite the elimination of passenger service in 1971. The first in the form of a serious derailment that occurred in April 1976, in which 29 rail cars lept the tracks. Boxcars, flat cars, and a tank car filled with liquid petroleum gas littered the prairie. Fortunately, the tank car did not rupture, and it was not long before the accident scene was cleared away. During Eureka Southern’s (ES) administration of the NWP, the town and tunnel 39 were captured spectacularly in the hit TV series Moonlighting in 1985. Excursion trains continued to bring railfans to the scenic community for over a decade until the last revenue train left Eureka in the El Nino storm event of February 1998. Even though the NWP was closed to full-size trains, it still managed to accommodate a Memorial Day Weekend speeder car run. Wayne Parsons, who took part in the journey, recalled, “39 cars set on at Rohnerville (two miles south of Fortuna)...we pass large company yards filled with a redwood wealth...the mills are silent....we emerge from tunnel 39 to our first stop in Shively, MOW member and beekeeper Seth Rick lives here. His family greets us with coffee, cake, and honey.” The tracks after that run became silent as overgrowth slowly reclaimed the environment. However, decades later, Rick and several other residents of Shively accommodated us the same way they had done for the last rail buffs to roll through the area. To this day, Shively remains one of the most fertile pieces of land in all of Humboldt County. With the NWP closed, the community relies primarily on the winding nine-mile county road off of Highway 101. Residents continue to install a summer bridge during the summer and fall, which makes the drive time much faster. It also means that those who would like to buy fresh produce can make the trip much easier. Footnotes & additional photos can be found here.
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 Copyright:© vladimirsart The term “cryptid” refers to an animal or a plant that has not been acknowledged by the scientific community, but whose existence is suggested by reports or circumstantial evidence. Much of the information we have about our local cryptids dates back to old stories and folk tales. Gold rush miners, lumberjacks, missionaries, and native peoples all have their legends. Some of them have very noticeable common threads, elements that ring true even today. Here are just a few of the many mysterious creatures that may lurk in Humboldt County and beyond!  Probably our most famous cryptid is Bigfoot. Also commonly referred to as Sasquatch, Bigfoot is a purported ape-like creature said to inhabit the forests of North America. The legend first emerged into the broader consciousness in Willow Creek, in 1958 with a series of encounters, along with unusually large footprints, allegedly found along Route 96, now known as “The Bigfoot Highway.” Nine years later in 1967, the legend went international with the famous Patterson-Gimlin film, in which Bob Gimlin and Roger Patterson supposedly captured footage of the mysterious Bigfoot near Bluff Creek. This grainy 16mm film, taken on a sunny October 20th, can still be seen today. Well before then, however, stories of large hairy humanoids, or wild men, were part of local Native American lore and had been reported by early settlers  Image by Eduardo Valdés-Hevia, https://Valdeviaart The Dark Watchers, who historically have inhabited the central California area, are described as giant human-like phantoms that are only seen at twilight, standing silhouetted against the night sky along the ridges and peaks of the mountain range. When seen, the beings are usually staring off into the distance or watching travelers, before vanishing into thin air, occasionally right before the spectators’ eyes. Over the years, many people have reported seeing impossibly tall, humanoid shapes standing along ridges, peaks or in the deep woods. In all the reports, they simply stand and stare off into the distance...watching. If approached, they silently disappear.  Photo courtesy of www.facebook.com/MythenAkte Another American contemporary legend features paranormal creatures that resemble children between ages six and 16, with pale skin and black eyes, who are reportedly seen hitchhiking, begging, or are encountered on doorsteps of residential homes. There are dozens of stories circulating, each of them separate instances, but all of them following a very similar pattern. Kids with completely blacked out eyes arrive at someone’s home or vehicle, knock on the door, and then insist on being let inside. Anyone who encounters them almost immediately begins to feel an overwhelming sense of dread and the meeting usually results in illness or death.  Image from https://mix949.com/ Perhaps the most terrifying cryptid that haunts the northern climes of our continent is the wendigo (the English word originates from the Ojibwe word "wiindigoo"). The wendigo is part of the traditional belief system of a number of First Nation Algonquin-speaking peoples. Although descriptions can vary somewhat, common to all these cultures is the belief that the wendigo is a malevolent, cannibalistic, supernatural being. Traditionally depicted as a monstrous creature with human-like characteristics (they are said to be giant, up to 15 feet tall, are gaunt with pale or ash gray skin pulled tightly over the bones, and have long jagged teeth), the wendigo is known to invoke feelings of insatiable greed/hunger, the desire to cannibalize other humans, and the propensity to commit murder in those that fall under its influence. They are strongly associated with winter, the north, coldness, famine, and starvation. The wendigo is seen as the embodiment of gluttony, greed, and excess: never satisfied after killing and consuming one person, they are constantly searching for new victims.
Antique clothing comes in a wide range of conditions and stability. While it would be fantastic if every garment was in impeccable condition, the truth is that even the best kept items show a little wear and tear. Taking into consideration the stability of a garment is essential for determining how to both store and display it. It is important to note that we can learn a great deal from a garment that is damaged, sometimes more so than one that is complete. When the inner parts of a garment become visible we can make inferences about construction methods, resource utilization, and past alterations which all help to tell a better story about a particular item. It is also important to note that being able to identify the hidden materials in an item can help us figure out how to preserve it better and potentially even narrow down the time period in which it was made. In the first two photos below you can see baleen bones emerging from their casings, or boning channels. The first image shows a broken strip of clear amber colored baleen poking through a boning channel which is reinforced with a blue herringbone stitch. The second image shows a baleen strip which has been covered in a metal cap to prevent it from poking through the fabric. It is possible that the metal capped baleen has been saturated in a resin or adhesive to stabilize it, and you can see that it has a drastically different texture than the baleen in the first photo. The adhesive itself may pose a risk to the structure of the surrounding fabric if exposed to moisture and is important to take note of. Both of these garments were constructed within fifteen years of each other, so it is interesting to notice the variance in available baleen in that particular point in time. The third photo is one of my personal favorites--it shows the neckline of a beige silk dress with clear glass beads. If you pay close attention to the closure system you can see that there is the remnant of an extra button hole at the very top, just barely peeking over the edge of the fabric. This tells us that at one point there was more fabric there, necessitating more button holes. Perhaps this dress originally had a high collar and was altered to have a lower cut. Using other context clues from that garment's construction it became evident that the dress was made some time in the 1870s but had been altered to fit the styles of the 1890s. I wouldn't have noticed that this dress was manufactured twenty years prior to its current style if I hadn't seen the button hole. The last photo shows the torn lining of a bodice, with the back of the fashion fabric visible through the tear. In this particular instance, being able to see the back of the fashion fabric allows us to determine whether it is a brocade or a damask. In this instance the back of the fabric is a smooth reverse pattern of the outside, so it is a damask. A brocade would have had a multitude of loose threads on the back as a byproduct of the weaving process. All of these details are visible because of the damage to these garments. It is the duty of museum staff to preserve historical objects, but it is also our job to tell their stories. Seeing these minute details allows us to make deeper connections to the history of an item and tell their stories to the public. Article written by Intern Emily Price
Stories on Edward’s trip across the country are sparse, and for a time Edwards dropped off the radar and no one knew if he had made it. In May 1910, The Bicycling World and Motorcycle Review published a story that mentioned Edwards – If no Indians and bears were encountered in Van Courtland Park and the great beyond Max and Abie should be well on their way, and if they go far enough they may meet the ghost of Court Edwards, the Californian who started a year or so ago to ride a unicycle to New York and who, with his bugle and his umbrella still may be on the road for all the world knows. While Edwards was still on the road, a colorful character named Dan Green arrived in New York: Although Court Edwards, the unicyclist who was going to ride from California to New York, has disappeared, another long distance single wheeler turned up in New York City on Saturday last, 21st inst. He says his name is Dan Green and that he rode a unicycle from Boston to New York. He was decked out with an Indian war bonnet, and officer’s khaki coat and leather fringed trousers. Green accounted for his unusual costume by stating that he is a Mexican with a fondness for the United States, though why that should serve as a excuse for such an outlandish costume was not made plain. The following month- Edwards arrived in New York with two wheels instead of 1. Unicycling, he claimed, was too much work. That is probably an understatement, especially considering that there were large swaths of the country that didn’t have anything resembling a road, so he switched to a motorcycle. However, while riding a motorcycle, he hit a guardrail and broke two ribs- then kept riding on. In August of 1910, Edwards appears in papers as a trick motorcyclist rider widely praised in San Jose, performing on a motor cycle and unicycle at an event where there was also motorcycle racing going on a track featuring curves at a 45 degree angle.
Edwards died in Illinois on September 9, 1912 in a motorcycle accident. Motor cycles used in racing at the time ran at 100 miles an hour, had no breaks, and riders wore leather helmets. Additionally, the tracks used for racing placed spectators just above the 45 degree (or more) banked track, meaning if a cyclist went off the track, they could easily fly, motorcycle and all, into the crowd. Edwards’ death made national news. Motorcyclist deaths in races were becoming more common, and the racing ended in 1913. San Jose Mercury, 1 Aug 1910:   For outstanding images of these historic tracks, be sure to see:
http://www.ridingvintage.com/2012/12/the-motordrome-board-track-motorcycle.html Thank you to Jim Garrison for assistance in uncovering this story! During the Pandemic, you may have noticed shortages in stores- baking products, toilet paper, coin currency, bikes, camping gear, and much more. A while ago, on a sunny afternoon, I noticed my roller blades sitting by the front door. Pre-pandemic, I went to the Municipal Auditorium on Fridays to roller skate, but hadn’t tried skating outside. I think the last time I did that, I was like 10 and I went with my mom and she fell in a bush… More recently, I’ve been scared I’d hit a rock, fall over, break an arm or my teeth or something like that. To finally move past my fear, and get some more movement in my life, last weekend I went and got a mouthguard, geared up in elbow, knee, and wrist guards, plus a helmet and took to the boardwalk on my roller blades . It was kind of embarrassing, but eventually, I got back into the swing of it and got some practice avoiding rocks and other random things on the trail. I didn’t like how unstable my ankles felt, so I swapped out my blades for the more traditional side-by-side 4 wheel skates with a toe brake, and it’s a whole new learning curve. Trying to skate with them for the first time on a slight incline with high winds probably didn’t help much. But, while, I was skating, it got me thinking- who the heck came up with the idea to put some wheels on shoes and wheel around? So, I looked into it. I figured the Victorians had something to do with it since they had a thing for potentially dangerous modes of transportation... Early Skates
 The next iteration was a three wheel inline skate (above) patented by M. Petitbled in Paris in 1819. Around this time, skates were sometimes referred to as “parlour velocipede”. A velocipede at the time was another word for a bike, and at this time, the bikes we’re talking about are the ones with the huge front wheel and 1-2 small back wheels. The early skates earned the “parlor” prefix due to their initial use: an early variant of the quad skate is said to have been invented by German barmaids for increased drink serving efficiency in huge beer halls in Berlin. These early quad skates, however, were clunky and almost entirely metal, meaning the skater couldn’t lift their foot off the ground easily and the design made it hard to turn while rolling. The Engineer, an early publication reviewing new inventions, noted that the worst thing about the skates was their appearance, the 1876 publication read “‘very few of the fairer sex would deign to encase their feet in such ugly replicates, lest it should be expected that their ankles were really the size of which they were made to appear’.”
 The "Rocker Skates" and the Arrival of the Modern Skate
In the 1880s, mass production was in full swing due to the industrial revolution in Europe, and roller skates were included in the scaling up of production. Rinks began to pop up throughout New England and London, with the increase in “rinkomania”. Indoor roller skating became realized for its medical benefits, and outdoor roller skating was recognized for its efficient transportation benefits- benefits that might even be used by military forces (that didn’t pan out, but could you imagine...). These early skate iterations were usually still metal, with straps that attached to your shoes, making them removable. They didn’t roll very smoothly, and were still rudimentary and metal. In 1898, the quad skate reached the form that we recognize today, with ball bearings in the wheels to encourage smooth rolling of the wheels. Production materials have changed since then, but the structure is generally the same. Improvements in plastics have made them more lightweight and replaced some of the metal pieces that used to be in the skates.  1907 glass plate negative of Edwardian era women playing soccer (football) on roller skates The Golden Age of Skating and Skating in the Modern Era In 1902, a large roller rink in Chicago opened, called the Chicago Coliseum. 30 years later, the first roller derby competition hosted by the Roller Skate Rink Owners Association at the Coliseum became the birthplace of roller derby. The golden age of roller skating began a few years later with the national organization of the Roller Skate Rink Owners Association. Roller skating was considered an excellent escape from WWII and in the 1940s, 8,000 rinks operated nation wide and an estimated 18,000,000 people skated.  The Third Chicago Coliseum, c 1900 Roller rinks were centers for community life in the 1960s, and were some of the most difficult places to desegregate. The film, United Skates, explores the integral nature of roller rinks in communities through time and how theme nights like Soul Night at rinks became places Black individuals “didn’t have to abide by white rules, listen to white music, or play by white standards. They were free to be their complete selves and that is how this culture was able to thrive.” The film also explores how rinks continue to be segregated today through theme nights, like Adult Night and Family Night. In the 1970s, disco music and roller skating collided and caused a resurgence in skating. Economic downturns and the fall of disco led to the closure of many rinks, but this period in skating history is memorialized in shows like “That 70s Show”, Patrick Suaze's debut in Skatetown USA, Roller Boogie, and in music videos. Dancing in skates wasn’t unprecedented either, in the early 1910s and 1920s, skate dances were also popular. Inline skates arrived at their modern form in the 1970s with the renovation of a 1960s inline skate to feature an ice hockey boot and wheels for hockey training off ice. These skates, later branded Rollerblades, have become a household name. Humboldt County and SkatingSkating declined over time, but has experienced a resurgence in the early 2000s with the popularity of roller derby in films and the COVID pandemic while people look for things to do outside. Locally, roller derby picked up in 2006 when Humboldt Roller Derby founder Jennifer McMahon started Humboldt Roller Derby. The early team trained at the Blue Lake Roller Rink with former football coach Coach Mojo. They began competing in 2008 as the North Jetty Bettys and the Widow Makers, and have since become a nonprofit organization, donated $25,000 to local organizations, established a youth team called the Redwood Saplings, and have traveled nationally and internationally to compete in tournaments. Their season this year was put on hold, but you’ll frequently see people decked out in HRD gear zipping around on their skates.
What's the first thing you think of when you hear "Distance Learning?" Zoom calls? That one time your kid was in class and another kid in another window ran unexpectedly pantsless through the video? By now, many students have been in virtual classes for a few months and the novelty of "pantsless Peter" has worn off. But, did you know that distance learning isn't a very new thing? Of course, it's internet iteration is relatively new, but distance learning as a concept dates to the earliest back to the 1700s, but came into vogue in the mid 1800s, around the same time that the postal service in the US was becoming modernized and when Humboldt County was being established.
Other iterations of distance learning included radio, in 1923 when 10% of operating radio stations were owned by educational institutions to educate students over the radio. With the widespread development and use of the television, institutions like the University of Wisconsin Madison pioneered televised instruction that was duplicated in other countries. In the 1980s, National Technological University used satellite television technology to broadcast live courses where students could ask questions on the air along with pre-recorded sessions. With the rise of the internet, the first all online accredited higher education institution began in 1993 with 5 bachelors programs and 24 masters programs. The Display:Rural Humboldt County in the 1850s had no universities until Humboldt State Normal School was established in 1913, so correspondence courses allowed local adults to educate themselves despite distance. Class materials were mailed to students, and they could practice and hone a number of skills from bookkeeping to workers safety.  The materials on display, from 1928, were for a business course hosted by W.H. Goodwin. The ledgers, fake money, and invoices gave students a chance to work on their skills balancing books, keeping records, and doing transactions in the comfort of their own home. After completing the class, they would receive a certificate.  Students received an envelope of materials including ledgers, receipts, stationary and more, along with bundles of envelopes containing a month’s worth of transactions for a fictional company. Following a pink sheet listing the businesses’ dealings over the month and reading included invoices and price lists, the student would process the transactions into provided record books and produce receipts to practice their bookkeeping and administrative skills.  Correspondence course materials courtesy of Joann Bauer, Humboldt County Historical Society. The materials are from her mother. Be sure to take a close look at the prices on the items! Sources:
https://partners.pennfoster.edu/blog/2015/february/a-glimpse-into-the-past-penn-foster-celebrates-125-years-of-educating-the-non-traditional-learner Distance Learning- From Correspondence Courses to Zoom https://daily.jstor.org/three-centuries-of-distance-learning/ It's been a little bit since my last post! Things have been pretty busy, despite us still being closed to the public. We still aren't sure when the County will allow us to reopen, but rest assured, we have a plan to reopen as soon as the County gives the green light.
Jim and I rapidly put together a plan to determine how much material was to be moved, find a place for the newspapers and get volunteers to help move on a really quick schedule. Why does this matter? While these newspapers are pretty much all microfilmed - scanned onto small pieces of film that can be scanned and read through a specialty machine. It's a standard for document preservation- however when images are microfilmed, they are often disfigured or completely unrecognizable. Having access to the actual print papers allows for scanning using a digital scanning, preservation of the images, and another copy of the papers in case something happens to other collections (redundancy). Scans of these papers can also be made available to free services like the UC Riverside California Digital Newspaper Collection and paid services like Newspapers.com. I visited the archive the following day to size up the challenge. Check out the video above- the boxes were documents that the company had to have shredded due to confidential employment information so we didn't take those. You can see the large books- those each contain a month's worth of newspapers. 
 Milt moving a whole stack of newspaper books on a cart. The boxes on the right are soon to be full of the newspapers you can see on the left. I measured how much material there was to move: about 360 cubic feet- imagine a cubic foot as the size of a bankers box or a basketball. We had papers from the late 1980s through the early 2000s, along with bound copies of the Humboldt Beacon, a smaller paper that eventually was added into the Times- Standard from the late 1940s into the 1960s. The room was dark, and everything smelled like dust and newspaper ink. Thomas told me that the floor where the printing press was (about 20 feet below the room we were in, but could be seen through a window in the storage room) had about an inch of dust and printing ink on the ground when the presses were taken out! Some of the papers were bound in books, each book containing one month and usually a funny doodle on the cover, while others were rubber banded or tied together. One whole section had fallen over and from the dust on it, looked like it had been there for a while. By the end of that day, we had a location figured out, and a few volunteers who would be meeting at the building the following day at noon. I had no idea how we would be able to move everything out in a day.
 Trailer load # 2 on day one.  Jim sitting next to two of the pallets of papers brought to the Historical Society at the end of Day 1. That stack on the right is about as tall as me- I'm 5 foot 6 ish!
In the end, all the papers made it over to the Historical Society to be processed. Duplicate papers will be removed and the collection will eventually be scanned and down the road made available to the public- although that is going to take a while due to the logistics of processing such a large collection.  End of day 2, last box being loaded up on the cart! Check out all the old gross rubber bands on the ground - an archivist's worst nightmare! As a curator from a sister institution, I was happy to pitch in on helping with this project, as it'll benefit all of our organizations to have good and locally accessible documentation of events over the course of our region's history. This is only the beginning for the project. I look forward to seeing what comes of it in the future. Thank you to everyone who helped out, including Jim and his family, Thomas, Milt, Dana and David, Kurt, and Corey.
The posters are pretty large, some of them are almost 40 inches wide and are twice as long, while others are smaller. With the exception of about two of them, they are in stellar condition with minimal tape marks or pinholes. I’m not entirely sure that they were ever used. Most are from Cecile’s original collection, some were donated by individual donors over the years.
These posters are really interesting to spend time looking at, and get more interesting as you learn more about them. They were produced by the Office of War Information to promote full engagement of the civilian population in supporting the war effort however possible. Some were positive, like the “Plant a Victory Garden” or “Buy War Bonds”, asking people to take action with attractive images and artwork. The ones I was most surprised to see were the ones that used fear as a motivating feature to get people to not do something- like talking about anything related to the war effort when outside of work (if you were in a war industry). The phrase “loose lips sink ships” came into being thanks to one of these posters. The idea was that spies for enemy countries could be anywhere, and information on the war effort could lead to incredible losses for the Allies.
When Jim and I were going through the posters, I told him that I was pretty sure most were from WWII, but a few WWI posters could be peppered in. I recognized the helmets shown in the pictures below as indicative of WWI era uniforms, but the inclusion of the Jeep and WWII era firearms said otherwise. These details, along with other details we noticed from processing the posters and discussions we had made the 3 hours of scanning feel like they went by very quickly. Some of the thoughts that came up appear in the Clarke's webpage about WWII posters here.
It took some figuring out on how to get the files from the Historical Society to the Clarke, as the files were almost 50 gigabytes of data. I had to get a thumb drive large enough to transfer them over, then convert the files to be small enough they could be shared online. It’s a process I’m still working with, but it’s giving me a chance to learn how to manage collections as they go digital, which will be really important as we continue digitizing. I’ve been seeing many people writing about the explosion of digitization that is taking place now that museums and archives are closed to the public. Digitization has been an important and often sidelined part of being in a museum, not so we can get rid of the originals and free up space, but to make materials more accessible to the public. When everything is digitized, if a researcher contacts us for pictures of say, Ferndale, we can do a search on our database, compile the photos, and send them their way. It saves them a trip here, and it saves the photos from being looked through and potentially damaged (minute damage happens even when the most careful people handle items!). it also allows us to reprint images for exhibits, postcards, and other uses without needing to rescan images.
So, without further ado, I’ve included a few of the posters we’ve scanned in this article and below. My plan is to get all of them up on our WWII memorial webpage, which can be seen here, but it may take some time. So here’s a teaser! Click on any of the photos below for a larger image. I try to get clever with the titles for these blog posts, this one may just be a little over the top. But maybe it worked as an eyecatcher? Anyway, you're here now, so let's get on with it! Unfortunately, as far as I know, Humboldt County hasn't had a bobsled team, but we have had a good number of sports stars come out of our region. I like to think that it's because there's so much room out here and clean air compared to other parts of the state, making it a great place to get out and get some fresh air (when the weather is nice!). Today, I'll be sharing some stories of locally, nationally, and internationally famous runners and sports races. Go ahead and curl up on the couch with a cozy blanket for some Cool Runnings(tories). "Cinder-Elta" - The Story of Elta CartwrightIn the 1920s, women were not legally entitled to participate in sports teams at school, including universities (the famous Title IX made access to women’s sports a rights in the 1970s) as women’s participation in sports was thought to be unladylike. Men’s sports were plentiful, but it was usually due to perseverance or incredible successes that women’s sports were established. In the 1920s, a woman named Elta Cartwright helped to elevate the place of women’s running in Humboldt County and became the first woman to be on the United States Olympic track team.  Elta Cartwright was born in Eureka, CA on December 21, 1907. She graduated from Eureka High School in 1924 and moved on to Humboldt State Teacher’s College, as Humboldt State University was known as then, to train to be a teacher. She was known for her speed as a sprinter and, in an interview from the 1980s, mentioned that she had looked at going to school at Stanford, but didn’t because there weren’t adequate running facilities there for someone who wanted to train for the Olympics. Elta won her first national track meet in 1925, along with a 1926 national track meet in Philadelphia. Due to her rising star status, the 1927 national track meet was held at Eureka High School, Elta's home track. This track was made of cinder, earning Elta the nickname "Cinder-Elta". Elta’s Coach, Laura Herrion, took racers from Humboldt State to New Jersey to try out for the Olympics in 1926, where she tied for the world record in the 100 meter dash, at 12.6 seconds and made the Olympic team. She was known by many at the time as the greatest woman athlete in America at the time.  The Olympics in 1928 were held in Amsterdam, and the team had to take a boat across the Atlantic to get there from the east coast. The boat offered little in terms of space for practice, but some running did take place on board during the 5 day voyage. Unfortunately, Elta was seasick and didn’t end up qualifying for the semi-finals. Elta’s coach, although she wasn’t allowed to attend, sent a bouquet of roses to Elta following the conclusion of the race with a note “as in defeat, so in victory.” The coach for the team, according to Elta, favored his own racers on the team and didn’t allow a recovered Elta to race in the relay team, which made it to the semi-finals against Canada.  When she returned to Eureka, Elta received a hero’s welcome, with a decorated train to pick her up and take her from San Francisco to Eureka, and a parade. She quit racing upon returning and became a teacher. Elta, while she was still in school, taught for a time in Petrolia. In a recorded interview, Elta mentioned that one of her motivating forces for becoming not only a teacher but a great teacher was from a comment made by her supervisor, a Mr. Finnity, who said that her sisters were better teachers than she would ever be. She spent her career teaching and passed away in 2001. Elta was inducted into the HSU Athletics Hall of Fame in 1959, and was the first woman to be inducted. The Redwood Empire Indian Marathon
 From the Los Angeles Public Library Photo Collection. this is an image of Native American men running at the Coliseum in Los Angeles. It includes a description: "Here we see Indians from the Sherman Institute at Riverside, with their ancestors' hardihood and endurance, running in the Los Angeles Coliseum. Will one of these Americans win in the Olympic? The Olympic marathon is about 26 miles, the distance of the original marathon of 490 B.C., when Philippides ran to Athens with news of the Greeks' victory over the Persians at Marathon, cried, "Joy, we win," and fell dead. Photo dated: February 25, 1927." Marketing for the race leaned heavily on racial stereotypes about Native individuals – one advertisement for the race claimed that the race would be “Like a flash-back to the days when red braves sped overland afoot with messages from tribe to tribe will be the scene presented by these genuine tribesmen pressing on almost continuously for from ten to fifteen days to reach their goal.” For the Redwood Indian Marathon, 11 individuals signed up, 4 were from the Karuk Tribe, and three of those were brothers: John, Gorhum and Marion Southard. Henry Thomas was the fourth Karuk tribe runner. Organizers wanted to make the men seem “authentically Indian” so they gave them running personas like “Mad Bull” and “Flying Cloud”. Three runners were brought in from the Zuni tribe in New Mexico and sponsored by different counties in California. Images of five of the runners are shown below: The rules were simple- the runners had to make it from San Francisco to Grant’s Pass. Each could have a supply car, and could set their running and resting schedules. While they had the option of staying in hotels along the route, most chose to stay alongside the road. The main rule was that the runners had to stay on the Redwood Highway and could not catch a ride from motor vehicles. Along the route, various pranks were pulled, with residents dressing up as runners and passing through towns hours before the actual runners did, causing whole towns to run out in the streets and cheer the “runner”, then being shocked and confused when the actual runners came into town. This happened at least twice, once in Geyserville and once in Arcata. Since long distance communication was unavailable on the more remote parts of the route, the organizers decided that the communication could be done through smoke signals (in sticking with the stereotyped "Native American-esque" theme of the race). There were telegraph lines in towns along the route so those were more frequently used.  Petaluma Egg Basket. California State Library. Along the road, towns gave the runners gifts of cash for being the first runner through the town, eggs (in the case of Petaluma, which was known for its egg production at the time), and prunes from Healdsburg. It was a long race to say the least. After day 4 of running, it was a five-man race, as most runners had fallen far behind or dropped out due to exhaustion or injury (one was hit on the back with a camera tripod and later had to drop out from injury). John Southard and Henry Thomas were the frontrunners, but eventually Southard pulled ahead and completed the race in 7 days, 12 hours, and 34 minutes. Thomas came in second eight hours after Southard arrived in Grant’s Pass. The third and fourth place runners arrived the next day, and the 5th-7th place runners arrived sometime after 9 days, and their times were not recorded. Four runners dropped out of the race.
Sources:Elta Cartwright Articles
https://www.sports-reference.com/olympics/athletes/ca/elta-cartwright-1.html https://hsujacks.com/honors/humboldt-state-athletics-hall-of-fame/elta-cartwright/5 Redwood Indian Marathon articles https://oregonencyclopedia.org/articles/indian_redwood_marathon_redwood_empire_run_/#.XrM-PahKiUk This article as a day-by day breakdown of the race, and is definitely worth a read! https://ultrarunninghistory.com/redwood-indian-marathon/ In the decades leading up to and just after the turn of the century, Humboldt County residents and visitors took to the skies in an innovative but also scary way - hot air balloons. As Jim Garrison, Archivist for the Humboldt County Historical Society explains below, ballooning was both a beloved spectator sport and incredibly hazardous for those who participated. The story, for us, begins in the 1880s. Balloon ascensions had been a fad with growing interest in the United States since the earliest domestic ascents in the 1780s. As time went by the "sport" attracted more and more "eccentrics" and thrill-seekers, willing to risk their lives ascending to the clouds in a hot-air or gas-filled balloon. As exhibitions of men flying in balloons became more commonplace, the audiences began to demand more and more. Soon it wasn't enough for an "aeronaut" to simply ascend to the heavens and back again; they needed to see something more daring, more thrilling, and more dangerous. By the 1880s, performers needed to put on much more elaborate shows. Balloonists, who frequently granted themselves the title “Professor” to add a scientific air of intrigue to their shows, flirted with disaster, performing death-defying acrobatics while suspended on a trapeze, before cutting away from the balloon and parachuting to the ground, often while performing more acrobatics!  "Godfrey's Balloon Ascension, Fortuna 1911" Humboldt State University Special Collections They used special balloons, set up quite differently from a modern Hot-Air or Gas Balloon. They typically had no basket like we are accustomed to seeing, and they had no safety straps, or harnesses; performers worked largely untethered, relying on the strength of their arms to keep them from plummeting to earth and an early grave. For more than a few this was not enough, and newspaper headlines and shocking stories of tragic accidents followed these spectacles wherever they went. Humboldt County was no exception when it came to the ballooning craze, and audiences flocked to see the aeronauts perform in communities throughout Humboldt County - Eureka, Samoa, Arcata, Blue Lake, Ferndale, Fortuna, Rohnerville, Loleta, Garberville, and Hupa all advertised balloon ascensions between the 1880s and the 1910s. It is not entirely clear when the earliest ascension took place in Humboldt County. The big event might have occured sometime in the Summer of 1889. "Professor" E.T. Owings was to launch his balloon from Eureka's Union Street ball park on the Fourth of July, but had to cancel when the balloon burst while being filled. The event was rescheduled for August 10th, but, just as the balloon was about to launch, someone "accidently" let out the gas. It is unclear at this date whether Professor Owings ever lived up to his promise to launch a balloon in Humboldt - but I’ll keep looking! Con Artists, Stunts, and Pet Monkeys" |
| This was the case for the next aeronaut to make the news in our county: Miss Hazel Keyes. Miss Keyes had a long and successful ballooning career, making 150 ascents during the 1890s. Miss Keyes had a couple of partners over her years as an aeronaut, including her first and second husbands, who sometimes posed as a rival, partner, brother or other character in their attempts to put on a show for the audience. She was mostly known, however, for taking a pet monkey named Jennie Yan Yan, on her ascents. Jennie Yan Yan had her own parachute and jumped alongside Keyes. |  Hazel Keyes, Oregon Historical Society |
Keyes and Jennie Yan Yan posing with their balloon and parachuting equipment in a studio. Oregon Historical Society.
In 1891 Miss Keyes was to have launched from the South Park Race Track in Eureka on March 17th. According to the Ferndale Enterprise, the crowd had to celebrate St. Patricks Day without seeing Miss Keyes risk her life, as the ascension was called off, either from high wind or a burst balloon, depending on what paper you read. One witness claimed the balloon was set loose after the wind picked up, carrying away some of the staging it had been attached to, and “nearly killing” a small boy in the crowd. Keyes went on to perform for Humboldt crowds the following week when she ascended and made a parachute jump from 800 feet. Keyes may have jumped at only 800 feet to avoid being blown too far from where she wanted to land.
The performer was scheduled to make an ascension and parachute jump from the North Spit the next Sunday, however, before the launch the performer and her “brother” engaged in a very public, and expletive-laced, argument about who would make the ascent. During their theatrics the balloon was “accidently” let go, and the launch fizzled while the crowds shouted “fake!” Keyes and her “brother” left town on the next steamer. Hazel Keyes would continue on the balloon circuit for five more years, making her last recorded ascent in South Dakota in 1896.
A poster advertising Keye's performance in Washington State in 1893. Washington State Historical Society
A Near Miss for "Professor" Hagal
 Balloon being filled with hot air. Humboldt State Special Collections. | In 1892 an aeronaut named Frank P. Hagal (also Hagle) made a series of balloon ascensions around the county. Beginning with a June ascension and parachute descent in Samoa, Hagal followed with two launches in Ferndale. The “professor” filled his balloon on the school house grounds and rose to a height of only four-hundred feet before parachuting to the ground, amazing and delighting the Cream-City spectators. |
Hagal next visited Rohnerville on July 30th, 1892, where things did not go quite as smoothly. Hagal filled his hot-air balloon and was just beginning his ascent when members of the crowd saw that the balloon was on fire and shouted, alerting the aeronaut of his peril. Hoping he could climb high enough to safely parachute before the balloon collapsed, Hagal stuck with the balloon hanging on until the last second. Too soon the fire burned through and Hagal was dashed violently to the ground from a height of a hundred feet! The “professor’s” insensible form was collected and taken to his hotel, where it was discovered that he would live to risk his life another day.
Hagal made several more ascensions in Humboldt including launches in Fortuna, Eureka, and Samoa in September of 1892. For a time Hagal worked with his daring wife Nellie, a working-class girl who quit her waitressing job to tour the balloon circuit with Hagal before marrying him. The marriage was short-lived and ended in tragedy when Nellie was killed when her parachute failed during a show in Monrovia, California in 1895.
Humboldt County's Worst Balloon Accident
In 1897, Humboldt County had its worst Balloon accident, resulting in the tragic death of George Weston Daggett and an assistant T.P. Tapscott. The services of “Professor Weston” had been secured by the Eureka Fourth of July Committee to perform a balloon ascension, parachute jump, and a slack-line exhibition for the holiday.
 |  |
It had been decided that, on account of the wind, the launch would be made from a sheltered point on 12th Street, between the alder trees. On the appointed hour the “Professor” and a crew of helpers arrived at the chosen destination, along with a crowd of hundreds of onlookers. The balloon was inflated and at the order to let it go it shot into the air, carrying not just Weston, but also, T.P. Tapscott, an unfortunate assistant who had been caught up in the ropes.
The balloon soared into the air, forcefully jerking Tapscott off of his feet and into the air. Weston had not anticipated having the weight of two men on this flight, and the balloon failed to achieve sufficient altitude in time to avoid a collision with the alder trees. Tapscott fell from the ropes entangling him, dropping to the ground from a height of some twenty-five feet. Landing on his head, Tapscott sustained brain injuries and a compound fracture of his leg. Weston was dragged by the balloon through the alder trees before falling from his trapeze, and sustained major injuries himself, including fractured ribs and head injuries. Both men died in the hospital later that night.
Summertime Entertainment: A Schedule of Performances Held in 1899
Humboldt had multiple aeronauts to choose from when “professor” Tom E. Godfrey and “professor” Richard Earlston (sometimes Earlson) both brought their acts to communities around the county in the summer of 1899. Earlston started it off with an ascent in Garberville on June 10th, followed by another on July 5th. It is likely that the “prof” did more jumps somewhere between these two events, but either the local news sources didn’t cover it, or I just haven’t found it yet!
Earlston made an ascension and parachute landing again in Rio Dell on the 16th of July, followed by a show in Ferndale on the 23rd. The balloon rose to a height of about fifteen-hundred feet, the “professor” doing stunts on his trapeze perch during the ascent, before parachuting to a landing in Francis Field behind the Catholic Church.
On the 30th of July Earlston ascended to a height of 2,500 feet, in a launch from Blue Lake. To his dismay, Earlston found his knife to be too dull to cut his parachute away and was forced to ride the balloon to the ground. Although this is the accepted practice for balloonists today, the daredevils of the late Victorian Era were much safer landing with a parachute, which they could control to some degree. More than one balloonist was dragged by their out-of-control balloon, and some were killed or maimed in a bad landing.
On August 12th of 1899 Earlston made another ascent from Ferndale, followed by one in Fortuna the following afternoon. These jumps apparently went off without a hitch, however, the Ferndale Enterprise speculated after each on how many times the “professor” could go on to press his luck before being killed.
Earlston next appears in the local papers on August 23rd of the following year (1900), when it is reported by the Ferndale Enterprise that he had been convicted of vagrancy in Ukiah and sentenced to serve 60 days in jail. This was not the “professor’s” first run-in with the law; in 1897 he had run afoul of the police after running away and eloping with 14-year-old Bulla Minot in Los Angeles.
| | Tom E. Godfrey performed for Humboldt County audiences in 1899 as well, making balloon ascensions and parachute jumps at Campton’s Park near Rohnerville, and other locations around the county and state. Godfrey’s career seems to have lasted for quite a while; his name appearing in papers around the state with some frequency between 1898 and 1912, particularly in the Colusa area. |
Stay safe out there, everyone, and don't forget to share this with your friends! Special thanks to Jim Garrison at the Humboldt County Historical Society for this riveting and fascinating glimpse into Humboldt County's past! You can learn more about the Historical Society through their website here
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