Conifers of California by Ronald M. Lanner

Source of book: Borrowed from my father-in-law

 While staying up at my in-law’s cabin, I got quite a bit of reading done. For the most part, I read books I brought, but I couldn’t resist reading this one, from their kind of odd collection of books that they left there when they moved north. This book is delightful, from the gorgeous photography to the detailed descriptions and history of the many native evergreens here in California. 

 California is an amazing place. A lot of people think of it as a few coastal cities. Los Angeles (and mostly Hollywood), San Francisco, and maybe San Diego. But California is a big place. Outside our population centers, we have a LOT of open space. Believe it or not, 52 percent of California’s area is publicly owned: National parks; state, national, and local forests; national monuments; and open desert managed by the Bureau of Land Management. You can find solitude easily enough if you are willing to strap on a pair of boots and go hike. 

 Because of a vast range of climates, California is also home to an amazing diversity of flora and fauna. Our conifers are a case in point. We have 52 native species - 14 of which are found only in California. That’s more than any other state….by a good margin. We have more unique conifers than many countries. 

 I have been interested in trees as long as I can remember. I think I first fell in love with a species when we camped up on Mt. Pinos when I was around 10ish. Throughout California, we have a close relative of the Ponderosa Pine: the Jeffrey Pine. The two are very similar, and often hybridize, but they have one highly significant difference. The pitch of a Ponderosa can be boiled down to make turpentine. Try to do that to a Jeffrey, and you will blow yourself up. The Jeffrey Pine has a volatile aromatic compound which is highly explosive at the right temperature, as early pioneers in California learned the hard way. This compound also makes the bark of a Jeffrey smell like honey or vanilla or pineapple (depending on your perception.) It’s really lovely, and makes the whole forest smell nice on a warm day. 

 Since then, I have gotten pretty decent at telling apart many of our native trees, although I won’t claim to remember all the different kinds of cypress and where they grow. (We have multiple endemic species which grow only in certain places, so if you know where you are on the map, you know which one it is.) 

 For the most part, I knew the basic identifications in the book, although there is a lot of information on the plants and their history and uses and evolution. It is informative both for the novice and the aficionado. 

 There is one thing that I learned, however. I had been thinking that a certain distinctive tree in Southern California was just a Douglas Fir. It turns out that it is a relative of the Douglas Fir, Pseudotsuga macrocarpa, commonly known as the Big Cone Spruce (what? It’s nothing like a spruce!) or Big Cone Douglas-fir. And, of course, Douglas Firs are not really firs at all, but a separate family of conifers. This particular tree is endemic to the mountains of Southern California, including the coastal range that contains Mt. Pinos. When I lived up there, there was a small stand of them on a shady side of the hill around 5000 feet elevation. 

 Whatever you call them, they look like nothing else, with their branches sticking straight out, often on opposite sides of the tree. Some have described them as looking like the masts of a square-rigged ship. Not only that, but they can regenerate leaves after a fire. It’s pretty cool. 

 

Unlike the Douglas Fir, which is arguably the most important timberwood in the United States - chances are, your house is built of it - the Big Cone Douglas-fir has lousy wood for anything other than firewood and fencing. Despite being commercially unfit, the trees are near-threatened because of loss of habitat - that’s the cost of living near Los Angeles. 

 There are so many other great trees in the book, from Singleleaf Pinyon, to the California Nutmeg. In any case, I really enjoyed this book, and am thinking of adding it to my own reference library. 

 

Channel Islands National Park

This post is part of my series on the National Park System. One of my goals while the kids are still at home is to visit as many of the National Parks and Monuments in the Western United States as we can.

When I was a kid, we used to camp throughout the year. During the hot days of summer, we would head for the mountains. During the cooler part of the year, we would camp at the beach. For the most part, we liked to camp at a place called Emma Wood State Beach, just west of Ventura. The campground is right on the rocky beach, so you can sit and watch the ocean during the day, and see the lights of the oil rigs at night. If it is a clear day, you can see across the channel to the string of islands about 20 miles offshore. 

(l-r) Anacapa Island, Santa Cruz Island, Santa Rosa Island

Picture taken from Rincon Parkway, 2015.

(l-r) Platforms "Gina," "Gail," "Gilda," and "Grace." 

Picture taken from Rincon Parkway, 2015.

The infamous Platform A is further to the west by about 20 miles. 

I'm pretty sure we crossed between Gail and Gilda on our boat ride to Santa Cruz Island.

 There are eight total Channel Islands. Santa Catalina Island is inhabited - and is a premier scuba diving destination. San Nicholas and San Clemente Islands are owned by the US Navy, which uses them for live-fire exercises. Ironically, the Navy is also committed to protecting some endemic species on these islands. It appears the occasional shelling is less damaging than the goat, sheep, cattle, and pig ranching that was done in the late 1800s. San Nicholas Island is also the location for the real-life story told in Island of the Blue Dolphins.

The remaining five islands, (west to east) San Miguel, Santa Rosa, Santa Cruz, Anacapa, and Santa Barbara, are all part of the Channel Islands National Park. Anacapa and Santa Cruz were designated a National Monument back in 1938. The others were designated as part of the newly-created National Park in 1980. However, because they were private land, they had to be purchased (at exorbitant cost) from the landowners. This process took until well into the 1990s - and the last of the feral pigs weren’t exterminated until a few years ago.

Human habitation of the larger islands dates back at least 10,000 years, but it wasn’t until the 1800s that the Mexican government granted large estates on the islands to ranchers. Over the years, goats, pigs, cattle, and especially sheep were raised on large ranches. These wreaked havoc on the local flora and fauna. 

 Scorpion Ranch, Santa Cruz Island. Now part of the national park.

What really started the push to preserve the islands, however, was a human-caused catastrophe. In 1969, what was then the largest oil spill in US history occurred. Even today, it is the third largest in US history. Over a hundred miles of coastline was fouled, thousands of birds died, plusa large numbers of fish and marine mammals. Southern California today is home to 23 million people - it was lower then, but it was still a highly populated area.  The catastrophe was enough to spur significant action. Our modern environmental laws stem from this incident. The EPA. The Clean Water Act. Actually, pretty much everything the current Administration and the GOP wish to dismantle. Here in California, the incident led to state legislation such as the California Environmental Quality Act, and the formation of the California Coastal Commission. In addition, since that time, California has refused to permit any further offshore drilling within its 3 mile limits. You can read more about the spill here. 

 I'm pretty sure this is "Gilda," taken from the boat on the way back from Santa Cruz Island, 2018.

The spill also led to efforts to preserve the unique ecosystems of the Channel Islands - a rare bit of wilderness just a few miles from one of the most populous areas of the United States.

One unique feature of the park is that more than half of it is underwater. Significant portions of the ocean surrounding the islands is a nature preserve, leading to vibrant underwater ecosystems and fantastic diving locations.

I had previously been scuba diving off of Anacapa Island, but had never actually set foot on the land. Recently, the kids and I took a boat out to the largest island, Santa Cruz Island, for a day of hiking and exploration.

Santa Cruz Island is interesting in that only a quarter of it is owned by the Federal Government. The rest was donated over time by the original owners to the Nature Conservancy. This portion of the island is kept largely wild, with visitation restricted. The Federal portion is more accessible, with hiking trails and a campground.

The Channel Islands are also an interesting demonstration of Charles Darwin’s famous theory. Darwin noted that isolated island populations of animals developed unique traits over time. In particular, island creatures tend to grow either larger than usual, or smaller than usual. This is a phenomenon which is seen all around the world, and the Channel Islands are no exception.

While hiking, we saw several examples of this phenomenon.

First is the Island Fox. Regular sized foxes are common in North America. Kit Foxes are a much smaller version. Where I live in Bakersfield, you can find San Joaquin Kit Foxes, which are the size of medium-small dogs. But on the Channel Islands, you can find even smaller foxes - more closely related to full sized foxes than true kit foxes - an endemic species which nearly went extinct as a result of human interference. Here is what happened: pigs were brought over to the islands, and became feral. The pigs destroyed fox burrows, but also attracted Golden Eagles, which ate both the piglets and fox cubs. As a result, the foxes were on the brink of extinction - only 100 or so were left. The Nature Conservancy and the NPS worked together to save them. The pigs were finally exterminated by 2006. Native Bald Eagles were reintroduced to the island. These were territorial, and kept the Golden Eagles away - and Bald Eagles eat fish, not foxes. Recently, Island Foxes were removed from the Endangered Species List - a fantastic success story. You can read more here. Island Foxes lack the usual fear of humans, so they can be a nuisance. They will steal your food if you are not careful. On the other hand, they are not aggressive and won’t bite unless handled. And, they are seriously cute. Roughly the size of cats but weighing less, they have a lot of cat-like mannerisms, making them irresistible for kids.

 Island Fox, Santa Cruz Island, 2018

Another endemic species with a small size is the Island Fence Lizard. These are smaller than their close relative, the Western Fence Lizard. There were several other bird and reptile species which are considered sub-species unique to the island, but the differences are more minor.

Finally, there is the Island Scrub Jay. There are two mainland species of Scrub Jay here in the western United States, the California Scrub Jay, and the Woodhouse’s Scrub Jay. The Island version looks similar to the California version, but is significantly - 50% - bigger. It also is a strikingly rich blue, and has a different call than other jays. DNA evidence suggests that it split from its mainland cousins about 150,000 years ago - which coincides with when the islands likely were separated from the mainland. 

 Island Scrub Jay, Santa Cruz Island, 2018

In addition to the abundant wildlife underwater, on the land, and in the air; Channel Islands National Park contains great views, memorable hikes, and beautiful clear water.

The easiest way to get to the islands is via boat. While I know people who have kayaked the 10-20 miles across the channel, the average mortal will generally want to catch a ride with Island Packers. Scuba divers can take a trip on one of several boats to a variety of destinations. I haven’t gone diving much since we had kids - just sporadically - and I am not up on which boats are the best these days, so ask around a bit.  

Scorpion Bay from the trail. 

 The north coast of Santa Cruz Island from Cavern Point.

Anacapa Island from the boat on the way to Santa Cruz Island.

Common Dolphins in the Santa Barbara Channel. 

There are an estimated 10,000 of these that live here. 

The eastern side of Santa Cruz Island. 

Anacapa Island from Santa Cruz Island.

Anacapa is actually three separate islands separated by narrow channels.

View from the Smuggler's Bay Trail. 

An abandoned oil rig near the centerline of the island.

Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck

Source of book: I own this.

Tortilla Flat was Steinbeck’s first real success. Set in Monterey, California, and telling a story of people on the edges of society, it is in many ways a precursor to Cannery Row, which shares many of its themes and elements. However, it is not quite the same book, despite the similarities.

The particular characters that Steinbeck creates are all “paisanos.” Which is a mix of Mexican, Spanish, Native American, and Caucasian - people who have occupied California since long before it became part of the United States. Not quite as aristocratic as the Californios, the great Mexican-Spanish landholders and luminaries of the Spanish and Mexican periods. Well, not even close. By the time this book is set, they were more like the typical Californian drifter sorts who worked when they had to, and not when they didn’t. In this sense, they are strongly related to Mack and his buddies in that latter book.

In Tortilla Flat, Danny is the leader of the pack, and is intentionally written as a (literally) poor man’s King Arthur. He inherits two houses from his grandfather, in the part of Monterey known then as Tortilla Flat - which is not flat at all, but a hillside - but is the home of the paisanos and other down-and-out sorts.

The story starts off with Danny. He inherits, and gets drunk. Then, he starts collecting friends - the various knights of the Round Table, so to speak. They too share Danny’s love for leisure, companionship, and as much red wine as they can purchase, barter, or steal.

Danny is the rich man, naturally, as he has two houses. Well, until Pilon (the smartest of the bunch) and Pablo (not so much) accidentally burn down one. This saves Danny the trouble of charging rent, which is never, ever, paid.

There are a host of crazy characters in this book. Pilon is the philosopher. Danny the ringleader. The Pirate as the one productive (and mentally challenged) member of the group. Jesus Maria and Pablo as sidekicks. Big Joe as the brawn of the outfit. And the various women and ordinary townspeople who inhabit their world. 

 The Pirate and his dogs. 

Illustration from the 1942 edition

by Ruth Gannett

In the end, like the Round Table, the group disintegrates, and Danny dies under circumstances which show the depression and mental breakdown that Arthur undergoes at the end of his life.

It is hard to know exactly what to make of this book. On the one hand, like Cannery Row, which is a more focused book (in my opinion), it is full of interesting and amusing incidents. On the other, it indulges in some kind of unfortunate stereotyping of Mexican-Americans. The group lives to get drunk and sit around shooting the bull. They steal anything not bolted down. The women seem to get pregnant by multiple men, and be sexually loose at most times.

So, it’s complicated. That’s one reason that I find Cannery Row to be the better book. It lacks the racial issues, and seems to have a more coherent story arc. However, even in this early effort, Steinbeck shows his skill at writing. Whether or not you like the stories he tells (and I know people who hate Steinbeck), it is hard to ignore just how skilled he is at telling them. Every book I read of his, I marvel at how compact yet evocative his descriptions are, how he can take a single sentence and make a world of it, and how he never feels wordy or long winded. It is a totally different style from other favorite authors: very American, very modern, and more terse. But it is great writing indeed.

Just a few lines that are worth mentioning. The paisanos are talking about Cornelia, who is a bit wild, but always has masses sung for her father - who appears to have been even wilder. Pablo questions whether these masses are effective.

“That soul will need plenty of masses. But do you think a mass has virtue when the money for that mass comes out of men’s pockets while they sleep in wine at Cornelia’s house?”

“A mass is a mass,” said Pilon. “Where you get two-bits is of no interest to the man who sells you a glass of wine. And where a mass comes from is of no interest to God. He just likes them, the same as you like wine.”

I’m not convinced Pilon is right about the second part, although he certainly is about the first. And I think he is right that the purveyors of the Religious-Industrial Complex don’t give a rat’s rear end about where they get their political power or money from as well. As the last election has proven.

Steinbeck was not a fan of religion. (And honestly, although I remain a committed Christian - a follower of Christ - I am not either these days. Here in America, it has become a strong force for evil, sad to say.) Here is another perceptive and sharp-edged barb.

It must be admitted with sadness that Pilon had neither the stupidity, the self-righteousness, nor the greediness for reward ever to become a saint.

Don’t get me wrong. I admire many of the saints. The writers of the New Testament. Saint Francis of Assisi, many of the women. But particularly for our modern “saints,” it does seem to require greed, self-righteousness, and willful ignorance. I’m not as cynical as Steinbeck, but damn it’s hard not to be right now. (I’m thinking of how everyone I know who defends breaking up immigrant families and criminalizing those who come here fleeing violence and poverty - and there are more than I expected - claims the name of Christ. Mostly Evangelicals, but a Catholic here and there too. And every last one of them white... it’s been a hard month.)

I should also mention the hilarious treasure hunting chapter. Like the hunt for the grail, it ends with disappointment, but in a humorous way.

Anyway, I still think this isn’t Steinbeck’s best book, but it is still a worthy read. I admire his idea: King Arthur set among the marginalized. Already, he shows a knack for characterization and vignette which would truly flower in his later works.

Si Se Puede! - Cesar Chavez National Monument

This post is part of my series on the National Park System. One of my goals while the kids are still at home is to visit as many of the National Parks and Monuments in the Western United States as we can.

It is kind of strange to think that we had never been to the National Monument closest to us. Cesar Chavez National Monument lies a mere 30 odd miles east of Bakersfield, and we drive right by it every time we head out to Utah, Arizona, or even just Red Rock Canyon State Park. Perhaps one reason for the neglect is that it is a fairly new monument. Created in 2012 by President Obama, it was intended to eventually be part of a larger National Historic Park with several locations throughout central California. (That will require an act of Congress, which seems unlikely as long as the Republicans are in power and are dominated by a xenophobic ideology.)

It is difficult to escape knowledge of Cesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers if you live in California’s central valley. The famous Table Grape Boycott and worker strike started in Delano, about 30 miles north of Bakersfield. Chavez’ name is on almost as many streets, buildings, and schools as Martin Luther King Jr.’s here in California. From The Grapes of Wrath to Esperanza Rising, the history of farm labor is inseparable from the history of California. The stories are told in histories, fiction, and legend. Helen Fabela Chavez, Cesar’s wife - and a labor legend in her own right - lived here in Kern County until her death less than two years ago. Dolores Huerta is still with us, and as feisty as ever.I have friends who worked the fields, and some of our local bench and bar grew up in farmworker families.

Just a bit of background, for those who aren’t as familiar with the story. Mexican farm workers have been working the fields, vineyards, and orchards of California ever since the Spaniards showed up and established missions. California was part of Spain, then Mexico for nearly 100 years. During that time, migrant workers went back and forth freely across the border. Actually, let me be honest: it has never really stopped. Up until the immigration changes in the 1920s, anyone could cross that border (except certain known criminals) and settle here. Or come, work, and return as they wished.

Things changed during the Dust Bowl. With white migrants from Oklahoma and Kansas and other Great Plains states, suddenly there were extra workers - which meant the brown ones had to go. During the Mexican Repatriation, around two million Mexican Americans (about 60% of which were American citizens) were forcibly removed. But that didn’t mean that immigration stopped. Rather, as the Okies largely moved out of farm labor, and into other professions, the vacuum was filled once again by Mexican migrants. And also Filipino immigrants. (To this day, Delano has a large Filipino population. There are two Senior Centers, which I used to visit during my GBLA days. One was predominantly Filipino Americans, while the other was mostly Mexican Americans.)

Fast forward to 1965. Our section of California grows the vast majority of the table grapes grown in the United States. Grapes are a big deal here. Large family and corporate farms dominate the industry, and all rely on farm labor for the tremendous work required to tend and pick the vines. Due to an unfortunate loophole in the law (and lax enforcement of the laws that existed), workers were being paid less than minimum wage - and the growers were demanding lower wages even as a record harvest rolled in.

The Filipino union started the strike, but Chavez joined in soon after. The two unions merged to form the UFW soon after. You can read more about the Delano Grape Strike and Boycott here. The boycott would become an international blacklisting of California table grapes, and the pain would eventually be felt by the growers. Chavez would fast for 25 days to draw attention to the issue, with Robert Kennedy, among others, eventually joining the fight. A march from Delano to Sacramento - 200 miles! - drew nationwide press. The strike continued for five long years, but eventually, the growers gave in, and union representation was put in place. Laws were also changed.

Later, Chavez had a vision for a headquarters for the UFW that would also serve as an American version of the Kibbutz - a collective community. A property that appeared suitable came on the market, and Chavez and the UFW made plans.

The history of this place is fascinating. They had a video on it at the visitor’s center. Originally, in 1913, the property was the site of a rock quarry run by the Kern County Highway Department. Later, in 1917, the quarry was shut down, and the site was converted to a tuberculosis sanitarium, run by the California Bureau of Tuberculosis. (Yes, we actually had that back in the day!) Quite a few buildings were added over the years to “Stony Brook Retreat,” and it became quite the compound. It’s in a beautiful spot in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, with clean, dry air and moderate temperatures year round - the perfect place to try to beat the consumption.

Alas, by the 1960s, admissions were way down - darn you, penicillin! - and the State shut down the operation. The County then had this property on its hands, and decided to auction it off.

Chavez knew, however, that he was hated by the powers that be in Kern County. (We still have some of that Good Old Boy network going - and a few really horrid politicians...although by no means all of them.) Thus, the chances of him being permitted to purchase the property (in 1970) was pretty much zero. The County went so far as to refuse to let anyone from the UFW view the property.

A little strategy was needed. Edward Lewis, a film producer, offered to help. He got permission to view the property, and took along one of Cesar Chavez’s brothers...who posed as a chauffeur. (I can’t find exactly who he was - he was in the film, but not on the NPS website about the site. I think I have the relationship correct.) Lewis then bid on the property, won, and then turned around and leased it to the UFW with the intent of eventually selling it to them.

The County officials were furious, and refused to accept payments for a few years, before eventually giving in. But the deed was done, and there was no helping it. The UFW got its property.

The compound was renamed Nuestra Señora Reina de La Paz, and the UFW moved its headquarters there. Chavez would also live there for a number of years. From 1970 to 1984, the site served as a community as well. Times changed, and many of the buildings have become a bit run down. You can’t tour them, although some are still retained by the UFW, and are available for conferences and stuff.

A part of the site was donated to the National Park Service, and is now the Cesar Chavez National Monument. You can read more about La Paz on the NPS website.

The part you can visit consists primarily of the visitor’s center and the gardens. Within the visitor’s center is a reconstructed farm worker house, which is all of six feet by eight feet, with no plumbing, and a single bed. Often more than one family would share the house. This is what the growers offered their workers - and the housing and food ate up their meager wages - and often more than that, which is why children worked the fields rather than attend high school. Also there is Cesar Chavez’ office, and a collection of historic photographs and artifacts from the early days of the UFW and its predecessors.

The gardens are interesting. Not particularly large, they consist of three parts. The first part as you enter is filled with plants important to California, from a giant native blue oak (likely a few hundred years old) to roses (the Rose Parade flowers are sourced from Shafter and Delano) to grapes, naturally.

The middle section contains the gravesites of Cesar and Helen Chavez, as well as a monument to the UFW. It is a peaceful and beautiful place.

The third section was inspired by Cesar Chavez’ birthplace, Yuma, Arizona. It contains cacti, agave, and ocotillo, all of which were in bloom.

It won’t take long to tour: we spent about an hour and a half there, and some of that was because I was chasing birds with my camera.

To make a day of it, like we did, I recommend heading to Tehachapi for lunch, then touring the historic train depot. Finally, drive up to the Tehachapi Loop, a section of train track where a full loop is made, and most freight trains will be on top of themselves 77 feet below. It is a busy line - really the only artery from the Southwest to the Central Valley - and trains pass every half hour or so. We even got to see a “Meet,” where two trains pass on the Loop.

I am hoping that eventually Congress finishes the task, and adds the Delano headquarters and other sites to a larger National Historic Park, the way they did for the World War Two Homefront sites. Farmworker rights still remain an unfinished task, and our racist and dysfunctional immigration laws are part of the problem, giving employers extra leverage against exploited workers. (I highly recommend The American Way of Eating by Tracie McMillan for an inside look at the realities of farm work.) The recent Supreme Court decision allowing employers to force employees into individual arbitration rather than group together in a class action is a terrible step in the wrong direction. I cannot but believe that there is more need for unionization than ever before, in the face of increasingly powerful (and more monopolistic) corporate employers, with no perceived duty to their workers. Chavez began the work, but there is so much still to do.

One final thought: the slogan, Si Se Puede! is so very familiar, yet its significance isn’t always appreciated. Chavez helped popularize it, but credit belongs to Dolores Huerta for coming up with it in the first place.

Barack Obama essentially “borrowed” it with his “Yes We Can” speech, and that certainly is one possible translation. More literally, it might be read as “Yes, it CAN be done.” But as the exhibits point out, both of these miss that the “we” part is crucial. The meaning is “Yes, it can be done if we work together. WE can do this.” The collective action is important. Strength and power in numbers. And in community.

***

Pictures, of course: 

 

"Huelga!" - "Strike!" Chavez named his dogs Huelga and Boycott. 

This is one of the original signs for the "National Farm Workers Association," one of the two unions that merged to form the UFW.

My youngest, Lillian, working on her Jr. Ranger book. She was horrified at the crowded conditions. And the lack of bathrooms. 

 Chavez' Office. 

 A picture of the march on Sacramento - this covered an entire wall. Very impressive. 

 The gravesites. As my wife said, "it isn't often I see one of my patients' graves." 

 A major score here. This is a male Hooded Oriole - what a beautiful bird.

 Cactus in the Arizona garden. 

 This Red-shouldered Hawk and California Scrub Jay were in a dead treetop right by the old Sanitarium.

 Trains on the Tehachapi Loop.

Manzanar National Historic Site

This post is part of my series on the National Park System. One of my goals while the kids are still at home is to visit as many of the National Parks and Monuments in the Western United States as we can.

Although I am proud to be an American, I am ashamed of a number of events in our past, where we acted, not from our best selves, but from fear and prejudice. Manzanar National Historic Site commemorates one of those shameful decisions.

For those unfamiliar with the history, during World War II, the United States Government rounded up about 120,000 Americans of Japanese descent - including many who had been here for generations - and placed them in concentration camps. They lost their property, businesses, connections, and much more. While these camps were not German-style extermination devices, they were nothing less than prisons where men, women, and children were incarcerated for who they were. Without due process. Without a trial. Without even an accusation that they had done anything wrong. Just because they or their ancestors came from Japan at some time in the past. Fully two thirds of those interned were born in the United States and were either second, third, or later generations of Americans.

There were ten camps throughout the United States, two of which were located here in California.

In summer of 2015, the kids and I visited Manzanar National Historic Site, one of the camps in California. It is located in the Owens Valley, in the desert on the east side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The location is striking, with Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the lower 48 states just to the southwest. The mountains rise 10,000 feet above the valley and provide a dramatic backdrop. But it is hot and windy in the summer, cold and windy in the winter, and let’s not sugarcoat this: this was a prison where children were incarcerated.

Manzanar is a shell of what it once was, of course. At its peak, it held over 10,000 people in wood-and-tar-paper barracks organized in identical square blocks with mess hall, bathrooms, and laundry facilities. Most of the barracks were dismantled and the materials sold off after the war. Only a few are left - mostly reconstructed rather than original. One mess hall remains, and some of the administration building, which houses the museum. You can drive around the site, though, and explore what is left of the gardens that the inmates constructed, and see some of the foundations. There is also a memorial at the site of the graveyard, of which little remains. The families of the dead generally relocated the remains of their loved ones after the war. Who would want to be buried at the prison where one died? A guard tower and the entrance guard stations also remain, built of stone rather than wood. You can see the site pretty well from Highway 395, and we had driven by on the way to various destinations on the east side of the Sierra.

The museum is excellent. I was also thoroughly impressed by the Junior Ranger program here. It is not at all easy, and requires a lot of legwork to find answers within the museum and on the grounds. The amount of information that the kids discovered and learned was better than many history courses.

My eldest daughter (age 12 at the time) was deeply moved by what she learned - and by the video interviews of the survivors. My second daughter was inspired to read Farewell to Manzanar by Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston and James D. Houston, a memoir of time spent imprisoned in this camp. There is such horror and sadness in being told to leave everything you know with only those few possessions you can carry with little notice, and travel to goodness knows where, to be imprisoned. And it affected my kids. (And me, of course, even though I was more familiar with the story before we visited.)

At the time we made our visit, we could not have know that the nominee of one of the two major parties for the office of the President of the United States would speak favorably of the internment camps and use them as justification for harassment and exclusion - violation of the constitutional rights of - another minority group. Worse yet, polls of those supporting this man indicate a majority believe the internment camps were appropriate. That is the most scary part about this: that one of the shameful episodes in our history is just shrugged at by so many.

Hindsight, of course, has shown several things. First, it turns out that there was really no evidence that Japanese Americans were a threat. It was - like it always is - hysteria, prejudice, and a desire to harm “the enemy” however one can. Japanese Americans - like Muslim Americans today - were part of their communities. They ran businesses, held jobs, sent their children to school, laughed, loved, lived in peace with their neighbors. Today, there are around 3.3 million Muslims living in America. And like the Japanese Americans 75 years ago, the vast majority are no threat whatsoever. Believe it or not, Muslims are the second most educated religious group in the United States - and that includes women. (Jews are the most educated.) Despite the stereotypes, 90% of Muslims believe women should be allowed to work out outside the home. (That’s a heck of a lot higher percentage than Christians - particularly the fundamentalists I grew up around.) Like the Japanese Americans of 75 years ago, they are part of our community, deserve better than the hostility and harassment they often receive.

The story of Manzanar and Japanese American internment is a cautionary tale for us. When we give in to fear and hate of the “other,” those not like us, we find that we are capable of great evil. Evil we claim (falsely) that we are not capable of. But we are. We very much are. Even those of us with more progressive views on race. After all, it was Earl Warren and Franklin Roosevelt who supported internment - not their finest moments, to say the least. But this election has brought out the (mostly) dormant forces of xenophobia and racial hatred as a certain major candidate has run on a platform of hate and exclusion, blaming our problems on those other, darker skinned people with different religious views. And yes, that includes suspicion of Catholics. The “Know Nothings” appear to be alive and well again. It’s raw tribalism - and it is driven by fear now just like it was back then.

And like it was in the 1940s, fear leads to bad decisions, and these decisions cause great suffering to innocent people. Men, women, and children.

One more fact both saddens me and gives me hope. The United States took a really, really long time to acknowledge that internment was wrong. One would have thought there might have been an apology within a few years. Not so. In fact, it took more than forty years - when many survivors were already dead. In 1988, President Ronald Reagan signed a law that paid survivors the grand total of $20,000 for each survivor. That’s not much for four years of one’s live, loss of property and businesses, and all that, is it? In 1990, President George Bush would send formal apology letters. (see pictures below)

But, as many survivors have said, the lesson to take from this horrible mistake is that we should purpose that it never happen again. At one time, I might have thought we had learned that lesson. Now, I realize that for a significant portion of the United States population, this lesson has not been learned, and they would be all too eager to repeat it, regardless of the cost to the victims.

As a homeschooling father and as a decent person, I am doing my best to educate my own children about our history, both good and bad. I am also trying to instill in them a sense of empathy, of understanding the experiences of others, and of always placing themselves in the shoes of others before taking action out of fear. In our world today, this is needed as much as ever.

Therefore, I urge my readers: take your kids to Manzanar or another camp and learn about the real life consequences of fear and hate. The future will thank you.

***

George Takei, who played Sulu on the original Star Trek series, was interned in one of the camps as a child. Here is a portion of an interview he gave about his experience there.

If you can’t make it to Manzanar, the website is a good place to start learning. If you are in the Los Angeles area, the Japanese American Museum also has a permanent exhibit on internment.

***

Pictures:

Graveyard Memorial

 This exhibit profoundly moved me. Some family, limited to those possessions they could carry, chose to bring a Koto. As a musician, my violin would have come with me too. No question. 

For more about the Koto, see my review of Seven Japanese Tales. 

Racism was an issue long before WWII. The internment camps were a symptom of a deeper problem. 

Inside and out of the barracks. No privacy, to say the least. 

My eldest daughter in the kitchen of the Mess Hall. Food was pretty gross and not at all culturally appropriate most of the time, but at least the inmates didn't starve. Which is faint praise indeed. 

The remains of one of the gardens. 

Guard Tower

 

Euphemisms. This is from the Japanese American Museum in Los Angeles

 

Back in the day when the GOP could acknowledge wrongs without blowback.

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

Source of book: I own this.

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,

In proving foresight may be vain:

The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men

         Gang aft agley,

An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,

         For promis’d joy!

~Robert Burns (from “To A Mouse”)

Steinbeck, more than any other well known writer of serious literature, belongs to my home state of California. As far as the “Most Famous Author from the State” goes, Steinbeck ranks pretty high. I mean, some of the others range from the unknown (Montana: Maile Meloy) to the schlocky (Nebraska: Nicholas Sparks.) But California gets John Steinbeck, both well known and well respected.

A bonus thrill to his writing, therefore, for a native Californian like myself, is that his locations are familiar and all around. Not just that, but his ability to observe and put his observations in evocative writing makes those places come alive such that one can not just see, but smell, hear, and feel the reality of each destination.

This particular book is set in the Salinas Valley, near the real-life town of Soledad. For those who do not know California, our mountains and valleys in the central part of the state run north and south. At the very edge of the Pacific Ocean, you can find State Highway 1, instantly recognizable in photographs, songs, and books such as Big Sur by Jack Kerouac. In the dead center of the state, you find Interstate 5, my hometown of Bakersfield, and probably the most fertile agricultural area in the world. But in between is sandwiched the Salinas Valley and US Highway 101. The valley itself runs from just north of San Luis Obispo up to its outlet near Monterey. The 101 forms a significant portion of the El Camino Real, the “Royal Road” connecting the California missions. The town of Soledad contains one of these missions, and the others are located either on the Salinas River or on tributaries. 

 Mission San Miguel Archangel - about 60 miles south of Soledad

Also in the Salinas Valley.

I have driven this route many times, and it is beautiful in its way. The valley is itself a fertile place. Most of the fresh lettuce consumed in the United States is grown here. (Seriously, check your bagged salad. Chances are it came from California, and if it is summer, it was grown in the Salinas Valley somewhere.)

The valley - and Soledad - also lies directly west of Pinnacles National Park, one of my favorite places. (You can read about some of our adventures there, with pictures of the endangered California Condor, on my National Parks page.) 

Anyway, that is the setting, and it is as memorable and familiar as the other California settings in the Steinbeck novels I have read. (The Grapes of Wrath was set in part in Kern County, near where I live. Some of the places were very real, and still exist. Cannery Row has become a bit touristy since Cannery Row was written, but Doc’s lab is still there, and the ruins of the canneries. It’s worth a visit.)

Of Mice and Men is a short novel, only six chapters long. It almost feels like a play, with the classical unities largely observed. While it takes place over a couple of days (thus bending one rule), it is set in one place, and follows one action only. Steinbeck actually wrote it as a “novel-play” in three acts, and it certainly reads that way. Rich and illuminating dialogue is present throughout, and what the characters say is equally important to what they do.

George and Lennie have recently arrived near Soledad to look for work at a ranch. Lennie is a giant of a man, but developmentally disabled. He has the mentality of a small child, which, when combined with his size and strength, makes for disaster. George is a friend who promised Lennie’s aunt that he would look after Lennie. The two travel together, which puzzles those they meet, but, as George notes, it is better than being alone.

Loneliness is the central theme of the book. Even the setting, “Soledad,” bears this out. With the exception of George and Lennie, every other character is somehow alone. Candy has a maimed hand which he knows will eventually prevent him from being able to work, and his old dog has had to be put down. Crooks, the African American character, must sleep by himself in the stable because of his race. Slim is smarter than the other ranch hands, so he is respected, but cannot be treated as a companion. Curley, the boss’s son, is an abusive jerk with a Napoleon complex, and his constant jealousy and rage alienates everyone else. Curley’s wife (who never gets a name) is miserable in her marriage, and cannot even talk to anyone else without him blowing up at her.

And even George and Lennie suffer from this. George feels Lennie is a burden - and he most certainly is. Lennie cannot truly communicate with anyone else because of his mental challenges.

From the very beginning, it is obvious that this story will not end pleasantly. George and Lennie are on the run because Lennie grabbed a woman’s dress to pet the pretty and soft fabric, and when she protested, he panicked and wouldn’t let go. He was accused of attempted rape (naturally considering his actions if the intent wasn’t understood), and the two of them had to flee. Everything Lennie touches goes bad. He wants so very much to have a pet, but he is too rough and ends up killing them due to his great strength. In this respect, he is like any of our small children who have tried to keep, say, insects, worms, or snails as “pets” and has handled them to death. This is Lennie - but with the strength to kill anything from a human on down.

And so, we know that George’s grand plan to save enough money to buy a little ranch, and work for his own profit rather than that of his boss, will be thwarted by Lennie in the end. Lennie, who wants nothing so much as to raise rabbits and live in peace. The best laid schemes of mice and men…

Steinbeck, for good measure, starts the book with a mouse and a man. Lennie, and a mouse he has caught, and accidentally killed, but still keeps in his pocket to pet, until George makes him discard it. Both, perhaps, alike in their simple schemes, but the victims of a fate that they cannot escape.

Other common Steinbeck themes appear in this book: the hatred of oppression by those in power, the affection for the “common man,” and the palpable frustration at the way people manage to screw up. The good-hearted yet feckless man is ever-present in Steinbeck, and his ability to make the reader feel sympathy even while appalled at the ludicrously bad decision-making is unparalleled. Just like the landscapes, Steinbeck’s characters feel real. You can smell and taste, hear and see and feel how they are. And Steinbeck does it in so few words too. Within a couple of paragraphs, I could smell the sharpness of the chaparral and the river-bottom trees - these are things I have lived. But I could also feel George and Lennie within a few minutes of meeting them. The relationship, in all its tension and connectedness was there from the first few words.

It is this writing that makes Steinbeck’s catastrophic endings so powerful. The drama that unfolds involves “real” people, more real even than those strangers we see as we pass in our real lives. We want so badly for Lennie to get his rabbits, to finally do something right. We feel George’s pain as he works so very hard to coach Lennie to do what he does best - work hard - and not do things which will cause inadvertent harm to others. And at the very end, when only Slim can understand what George had to do and why, the two of them walk off together, leaving Carlson - who will never understand the need for connection - saying the final, devastating line, “Now what the hell ya suppose is eatin’ them two guys?”

I didn’t entirely “get” Steinbeck when I was in high school - some things are wasted on the young, who haven’t entirely grasped the beauty of tragedy. But I keep returning to him these days, because the writing is so exceptional, and because his themes and perception of humanity on the fringes have come to mean more to me as I have matured. This most Californian of authors also grasps the essence of the Golden State, the fertility of its fields cultivated by the powerless, the endless dreams of a better life, of the gold at the end of the rainbow, but also the difference that a dream and human connection can make. Of Mice and Men is one of his darker books, with little to suggest optimism. Others celebrate the decency and generosity of humankind, or the power of dreams. Thus, the ghost of Tom Joad (to borrow from Springsteen) can live on to inspire Cesar Chavez, and Doc’s goodness can inspire love and remind us of the reality of friendship and connection even when the results are farcical.