The Journey Home - The Chronicle of my Reunion Weekend

Part Three - Sunday

Sunday morning dawned sunny and fair in the valley. This was great news after the threats of a storm all day Saturday. So I dressed quickly, loaded the car and headed off to the Pancake Breakfast, with one minor detour to fill up with gas before heading to the Adin Community Hall and breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Harper.

As I loaded the car, Mr. Harper was also loading their van. They had planned to rough-it in the van to save a little money, but the cold breezes made it feel nearly icy last night. Luckily they were able to get a room at the Bieber Motel as there had been a last minute cancellation. Greetings made and our breakfast plans confirmed, I head to get that much-needed fuel.

Adin Community Park and Hall

At breakfast, the food was lovely, as were the Harpers. The rest of the class were as communicative as always. So, having made plans to attend the church where I grew up, I ate, browsed the pictures on the walls and left to find a place to write before church started. That place became the outdoor dining room at the Oney’s Frosty, where I had eaten lunch the day before. This was perfect as they weren’t open for business yet and was deserted.

At 9:30 am, I put the computer away and pulled the car around the block to the side street of the Adin Community Bible Church before Sunday school started. After parking, I entered the church and sat in the last pew … many were the times I had spent here growing up and again when I came home to have Jeremy. Every Sunday and Wednesday for more than six years, combined.

As I sat in the empty sanctuary awaiting service, Pastor Ryan walked in to pick up something for the Sunday school class that was about to start. He invited me to join the class, which I did. Growing up, the adults had their Sunday school class in the sanctuary, but with time comes change.

This welcome into their Sunday school class was a world apart from what I had received at either the dinner or the breakfast I had attended just down the street about half a mile. I KNEW I was loved and wanted here! There were eight of us in that classroom, and I knew about half of them from my youth; they were Mrs. Cauldwell - my youngest brother’s third grade teacher, Rene Leventon Torres - a girl in my middle brother’s class who married one of their classmates and Karen Wolter Babcock - sister of one of my classmates who graduated three years ahead of us. But even those that I hadn’t known previously were just as welcoming as those I did.

This was a great weekend to visit the Adin church, they had a couple visiting that had a traveling music ministry. After the lesson, pastor reminded the class that there was a baptism and potluck celebration after the visiting ministry team sang and he invited me to join them. I finally felt that I belonged somewhere in this valley!

The visitors sang many of the old hymns, even a few I had never heard before. They were a lovely, older couple with lots of tales to share, which they mingled with their songs. I think they said they had been together since courting in Bible college sometime back in the ‘70’s.

203 Main St, Adin CA

Dad's Garage

Our house and garage

After service, I adjourned to the youth building (a large gym with a kitchen and bathrooms downstairs and classrooms upstairs) to change into slacks for traveling later while the ladies put dinner together in the kitchen … really reminded me of home, which I was beginning to miss a bit less by now. And Pastor Ryan got the baptistry ready for today’s candidate, another of the ‘kids’ that rode the same school bus we did; LaDonna Terrill, I don’t know her married name.

As Pastor prepared for the baptism, Mrs. Wolter-Babcock decided she wanted to take the plunge too, so to speak. She had been wrestling with the decision to be baptized for a long time and, with LaDonna already going in, it was just the right impetus she needed to go through with it.  Now it was a double celebration! How the Lord and His Heavenly Hosts rejoiced with us this afternoon.

Before I left the church, I gave Pastor Ryan a set of my books for the church library. I also gave one to his young daughter, which I had signed for her. Such a sweet child who had become a tightly stuck friend throughout the baptism and potluck.

After lunch I left the church and drove through Adin to take some pictures, about half of which I just learned were lost when my phone battery died before they finished uploading ... oh Well.

These are of a deserted ranch on Eagle Lake, CA.

I stopped at the mini-market across from the old planer mill and grabbed some drinks before I was on the road toward Susanville and home. All of the ponds and small lakes were fuller than I had ever seen. Even Eagle Lake’s shores had grown much closer to the highway than I had known. It was a beautiful sight, especially since we had just come through seven years of severe drought. The lovely views only added to the peacefulness that has enveloped me since I undertook this journey.

I began this adventure by questioning why I was going, what I was supposed to learn/teach others on the way, how I was to do this and to whom. Driving home I have come to realize that it was I who needed to learn. I who needed a new perspective on where my ‘home’ is and who were my family … my friends.

As I drove through and spent time in two places I had I had once called home, I found that neither actually were my home, just stop overs on my journey. The first of these places was Rackerby, CA. This was the place I had lived the longest, other than Adin. It was the place I hid from reality for a time so that my mind could start its healing process. I lived there for seven years with a great guy who tried to help me along this healing path. I had planned to be there indefinitely, but God had other ideas. He brought me to a fork in the road, I chose to follow Him.

Another way station in my life was Adin. It was in the house at 203 Main Street where I came to the age of maturity … though I never did ‘grow up.’ I even called Adin and this small valley community my hometown, but it never really was. It was a safe haven that God used to protect me and teach me the first steps I would need to know in order to dance with Him.  And dance I shall!

After this short, but insightful, journey I KNOW that my Home is where God is. So, wherever I am, as long as He is my constant companion and guide, I AM Home. But the location that is my home base, my base of operations, is Carson City, NV, and it shall remain such until He tells me different. So it is from this base that I bid you TTFN.

~*~

The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying:

“I have loved you with an everlasting love;

   I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

I will build you up again, and you,

Virgin Israel, will be rebuilt.

Again you will take up your timbrels

   and go out to dance with the joyful.

Again you will plant vineyards on the hills of Samaria;

the farmers will plant them and enjoy their fruit.

Jeremiah 31:3-5, NIV

The Journey Home - The Chronicle of my Reunion Weekend

Part Two - Saturday

On today’s agenda, before our dinner tonight, is a trip to the Bieber Museum this morning, a drive through the valley this afternoon including lunch at the Frosty in Adin, before heading back to the motel and a nice, warm shower.

As I sit here on the motel bed eating a bit of breakfast, I am looking out the window at what the weather may bring. It is gray and blustery and looks like a huge storm is brewing. Boy am I glad I threw my jacket in the car before I crawled in.

Bieber

The Museum was empty, save for the attendant, Ms. Gerig. So I wandered about the two rooms at my leisure, taking pictures of the displays. As I prepare to leave I ask Ms. Gerig if the library, also in the museum building, would be open … no joy. But I opt to leave a selection of my books and a note with Ms. Gerig to deliver on my behalf. I have many fond memories of time spent with my old friends - Asimov, Cartland, Lewis, etc. - there in the stacks. I wanted to share some of the words that God had given me with others who would visit here, too.

As I went to the car for my library gift, another lady entered the museum. When I returned, books in hand, I was pleased to run into one of my former teachers, Ms. Parks. I spent a few moments talking to these two ladies while I wrote the note to the library. I took two copies of one of my poetry books in, as I talked to these ladies, I felt led to give one to Ms. Parks. So I signed it and gave it to here with my contact info.

Upon leaving the Museum, I wandered through the streets of Bieber taking pictures and remembering the past … specifically, my time spent on these streets 40+ years ago, the good times and the bad. Those days were nothing like I had imagined they would, or rather should, be.

I had dreamed of life in a beautiful, though small, town, with lots of friends. A place where I could bloom and grow in joy and peace. But I found little that resembled my dreams. Though Big Valley fit my idyllic dreams, most of the people I met here didn’t. We were ‘flat-landers,’ people who came from the ‘big city’ to invade their rural community. We just didn’t fit in, so we were ignored and/or shunned by those whom I would have preferred to call friends.

Lookout

As I finished my tour of Bieber, I headed out the highway towards Lookout. Upon entering the community, I notice that the roads have been rerouted and an historic bridge has been removed. We learned of in class - the site of the Lookout Lynchings in our California History class. It was a dark time in Modoc county that came to an in this rural neighborhood in May of 1901. It was a site that I had wanted to visit on my tour, but alas it was not to be. But I did get some nice pics of the Blacksmith, Fire Hall, and Jail. Now on to Adin, and lunch at the Frosty.

Adin

I visited the Adin Supply, boy has it changed since I moved out of the area. They have opened up it up by removing many of the areas that made life in the valley possible; the butcher shop area, the front counters where we used to pay for our groceries, the hardware department - where you could grab a handful of nails, screws, nuts and bolts, and pay for them by the pound, and the original Adin Post Office boxes. It still takes you back in time when you walk through the doors, for the hunting trophies are still there as are the creaky, wooden floors, rugged posts, and beams in the ceiling. But the familiar spirit it once had, is gone forever.

Time for my valley tour is running out, so after a sandwich and soda at the Frosty, I head back to the motel for a rest before I get ready for the Alumni Dinner.

Dinner

As I shower and dress for dinner, I begin to have doubts about why I am here. I grew up feeling like an outsider all through my educational career in Big Valley. I know it will be no different when I arrive at the Adin Community Hall. But I also know that there will be at least one person from my class who will greet me with love and kindness, two if they are both able to come, but no more. But I dress up in a formal length black skirt and lacey, ombre blue blouse. I try to look my best, knowing that most people there will be wearing their dress shirts, dress jeans, dress boots and dress cowboy hats - it is cowboy/cowgirl country, after all.

There were 28 of us at some point during our Senior year, this is the largest that the Big Valley Class of 1977 grew. But by graduation, we were 24. Some had moved away, some - like my sister Jerri - took an early out by passing her California Proficiency test in our junior year and going on to Lassen College in the fall. But two of our number passed into their eternity before graduation Ms. Crabill - due to illness and Ms. Quin - due to a tragic accident. As I enter the Adin Community Hall, I reflect on these and the rest of our class. Our class, self-described by the majority as the GFO’s - doesn’t take much imagination to decipher that acronym. I wanted to believe we were invincible … but as noted above, we were NOT!

Moving through the maze of people I spot a few of those I graduated with in the middle of the room. I move toward them and smile, hugging a couple girls from another class on the way. I am greeted coolly by most of my classmates as I move closer to Mr. Harper, one of my few true friends in this room.

I had a few minutes with Mrs. K. Raul, giving her an autographed book of poetry, and spent the rest of the evening swapping tales with Mr. and Mrs. Harper as we enjoy the festivities honoring the BVHS class of 1967.

Overall, the experience was exactly as I expected, but not at all as I had hoped. I had hoped for acceptance, maybe even a little friendship; but by and large I received little of either this night. Though, as I mentioned, not all of those in the class of ‘77 were unaccepting and non-inclusive. I can actually say that two of those who shared our graduation day have earned my respect and the title of High School friends - as they truly had been all along; these are Mr. Harper and Ms. Kuykendahl, now Mrs. Raul.

Mr. Harper finally found his true voice. I fondly remember him as the shy and retiring “AV Geek” from school. He stayed mostly to himself, but had kindly teasing for a few of us girls that were also quiet types. I Also remember the times I spent visiting him and playing music in a cabin on their ranch. When I met him tonight, he oozed confidence and charisma. Though I find it heartwarming to know he is still the “AV Geek,” though I mean that with the utmost affection for my BVHS brother. And his lovely wife is a beautiful counterpoint to this once bashful boy.

And Mrs. Raul is still as sweet and bubbly as she was in 1977. We shared a few memories of our youth and her dreams of being a cosmetologist … though I think she may have given up that dream after one picture day haircut, LOL! Sorry, sis, I just had to share that.  :-)

Well, I have had a very long day. So I decide to cut out early. Though I make arrangements with the Harpers to meet again for breakfast back here again at 8:30 am before I leave.

You know, going back over these events once again as I prepare to publish this post, I realize that I am Blessed by my Heavenly Father to know though I have/had very few friends from my childhood and young adult years, I have true and loving friends at home. I am not alone in the world anymore. Even more wonderful than these people I call friend, is the friendship I have with my Lord, Jesus. He is everything to me! He has taught me so much through our years together, I know He is pleased with my progress ... well, mostly.

So I’ll leave you here as I head back to the motel and bed for the evening. Good Night!

The Journey Home - The Chronicle of my Reunion Weekend

Part One - Friday

I don’t really know what I was thinking I would find by coming home for my 40th High School Reunion and the 2017 Big Valley High School Alumni weekend. I don’t know if I actually thought about it beyond meeting up with those I had known so long ago and reminiscing over times we spent together throughout our High School Career. But as I prepare for this ‘momentous?’ occasion tonight I am wondering what it is that I am to bring to those I meet up with. As well as what it is that they are to share with me.

While I sit here in my ‘weekend retreat’ this morning, I thought I’d ponder the path I have taken so far to reach this place. I left home about 7:00 am on Friday morning to head to Reno Airport to pick up the rental car. As we were filling up with gas, I realized that I had forgotten my pill container with all of my meds for the weekend. So we headed back to the house to pick it up. With my pills now in hand, we headed once more to Reno.

Arriving at the Airport, Jeremy dropped me at the door and headed for our prearranged meeting place so that we could transfer my luggage and ice chest into the rental. At the car rental company I spoke to a nice lady who informed me that after I made and paid for my rental, they had changed company policies. Now, if renting from an airport location, you must present either a boarding pass for a return flight -OR- a major credit card to ensure the payment and any incidentals were covered … I had neither. AND, I had PREPAID for the car. So this made no sense to me. She advised that I should call the customer service line and have the reservation transferred to their other Reno location, at the Meadowood Mall, Sears store, and they would be able to let me take my rental car from there. OK. Now I am ‘stuck’ at the Airport with no rental car and Jeremy is gone. I tried calling the Rental car phone number, no answer, so I call Jeremy. He drove back to the airport to pick me up and take me across town to Sears and the other rental car location.

While I waited for Jerm, I tried the car rental company again. When they finally answered I had already arrived at their Sears location and had spoken with a nice man behind the counter. He also told me that their customer service center could transfer the reservation for me and He would then rent me a car. But the agent on the phone was now telling me that he could not transfer it, all he could do was cancel it … and he then did that.

This rental location also rented cars for another company. So, with Jeremy’s help, I went ahead and rented a car, loaded my things into it and was finally on my way … about two hours after my planned departure time. Thank You, Jesus!

The weather was beautiful. Warm, sunny and supposed to be in the 80’s at home and mid to high 70’s in northern Cali where I am headed. The radio playing and my mind started to relax as I drove from Reno, NV to the first destination on this three-day adventure - a ghost town above Downieville, CA called Brandy City. I headed West on I-80 out of Reno toward Truckee. Once passed the ‘bug station,’  the local California Agriculture checkpoint, I headed North on CA Hwy 89 toward CA Hwy 49, Downeyville and the Brandy City Road turnoff.

This trip to Brandy City is something I had wanted to do since I received my diploma from Long Ridge Writer’s Group for Fiction Writing and Marketing.  I had been planning this visit for many years. I wanted to do a bit of research for a novel I have been trying to write for more than 20 years, but the plans have fallen apart more times than I can remember. Today, Friday, May 5th, 2017, looks to be the day I finally make it. Well, maybe.

The drive was peaceful and very calming. After the many trials recently faced at home, and the incident with the car rental company, the calm was much needed and totally welcomed. By now I am starting to sing with the radio and enjoying the peace that is enveloping the whole car, but more importantly, my whole spirit. I tuned to a classic rock station and sang as I drove along.

Before I left, I did a road conditions check to look over the route I wanted to take. I wanted to know what to expect. There was one stretch along Hwy 49 that was showing delays for road construction. No worries. It was to be expected after the winter we had just come through. I am in no hurry, the drive is for refreshing body and spirit, so I will just drive and enjoy.

The scenery is breathtaking as I drive through the woodlands and meadows on this California backroad. And the delays were minimal. Music, melodious meadows, and wooded splendor make for just the peaceful experience that I need. Peace and contentment have found their foothold in my heart and mind. God’s magnificent paintings are not wasted on me, today.

Google maps navigator had said that I should arrive in Brandy City about 12:30 pm on this afternoon. Not too bad, if all goes as planned... I know, famous last words, right?

I reached the Camptonville/Brandy City Road cut off - literally - as it is a bit of a switchback turn - about noon. It is a paved road, but a bit rutted and pocked with potholes. This was nothing unusual in this area of the California ‘backwoods.’ So I made the turn and proceeded up the road to a place I had long wished to visit. About 30 minutes up this mountain trace, I saw the first signs - literally - that I may not make it to this long awaited destination. There was a barricade filling the downhill lane of the road claiming that the road was closed. Well, not being one that is easily discouraged in the reaching of my goals, I proceeded uphill around this barricade … it didn’t close the whole road, just half of it.

I continued up the road, but it was very slow going. These turns were very steep and tight, but still passable. There were a few rocks and small branches scattered along the pavement, but nothing I couldn’t handle. And there were several wide places on this, now very narrow and trail-like road. So I knew if it became impassable up ahead, I would be able to turn the car around and make my way back down the road to Hwy 49. Little did I know at that moment that that was exactly what I would need to do in just a little over 45 minutes from making that turn uphill.

The closer I got to my destination, the narrower the road got. After about 20 minutes of uphill twists and turns, I came to another barricade with a Road Closed sign across it. But this new sign gave me pause. Though the barricade still only filled half of the roadway and I could have fit through, I opted not to proceed.

This portion of the roadway was more densely forested, swathed in darkness and shadows. And the road beyond the barricade as far as I could see was littered with an abundance of rocks which looked to be about golf ball sized. So I decided going back down the hill would be a more prudent decision than trying to go forward any further. Looking back on this research portion of my trip, maybe the Lord is trying to tell me something about the novel I have been in the process of writing since early 2002. I will be putting this book aside - for a time or perhaps forever - we’ll see, but for now, on with the adventure!

As I re-entered Hwy 49 North, I needed to decide what route to travel to reach tonight’s destination and my temporary dwelling for the weekend. Google Maps was telling me to go south toward Grass Valley/Nevada City, but I had lived in this area for many years and knew the roads that the locals would take to reach CA Hwy 70 and the road to Redding CA that would take me to CA Hwy 299 East - THE road to my High School Reunion. I opted to drive like a local and I'm glad I did!

When I reached a sign that said Marysville Road turnoff 12 miles I knew I wasn't far. I also knew this road well, so when I can to the junction, I turned right toward Bullard’s Bar Reservoir and headed toward my previous home in Rackerby.

Now I hate high places, especially those that have sheer drop-offs and though I had driven across Bullard’s Bar Dam many times, I have never reached a place of comfort while driving across it. Today was no exception. A couple hours earlier I had found a KLove radio station, so, with the radio playing praise music and singing to the Lord from my heart, I crossed the dam in the Lord’s Might. Praise GOD!

Now Google Maps Navigation keeps telling me that I need to make a U-turn to get back on the right route. But I know where I am and I am confident that I will arrive at my motel in good time. Though the roads they would have directed me too were main thoroughfares, I would be going south and west rather than traveling in the northeasterly direction I was actually headed. Yes, the roads would have been in better condition and I could have traveled at highway speeds for a longer period of time, these things were not as important to me as just having a calm and pleasant drive. And it turned out to be just that for me.

Making the road choices on this trip remind me of the choices we make along life’s road, the Highway to Heaven. Many are the times I have taken a path of my own choosing because it looks ‘easier’ to travel. And I have totally missed, or delayed, God’s blessing by doing so. My choices landed me in dark paths whose destinations were jail and many failed relationships. I could have ended up dead and buried, instead of alive and living this new life for God. I give Him thanks EVERY day for His prodding, and encouragement along the way! I am so glad that I decided to follow His path many years ago while sitting in a cell in the Butte County on charges that could have placed me in the California Prison system for at least a year and quite possibly the rest of my life. Today, I trust God to keep me and fully believe the passage in Jeremiah, which reads;

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

Jeremiah 29:11-13, NIV

Taking the backroads from Bullard’s Bar out to Hwy 70, I had an opportunity to drive through the communities of Brownsville, and Rackerby. Areas I used to call home some 15+ years before. They were lush, green and more beautiful than when I had last visited. Though I had no reason, and more importantly no desire, to stop and see anyone from my former life in the area … so I just drove through the countryside and enjoyed the scenery along the way. I refrained from stopping until I reached the northern outskirts of Chico, CA before stopping for anything. So, I made a quick stop for a sandwich and a soda before heading up I-5 toward Redding, CA, gas and the last leg of today’s journey.

The road to Redding, and beyond, was as uneventful as the views were gorgeous. More gorgeous than I had seen in more than 15 years, 10 of those were in severe drought. But today there is green and all of the water levels were higher than they had been before the drought began.

I arrived at the Bieber Motel about 6:00 pm on Friday evening. Though the backroads took much longer than the Google Maps route, I felt the drive was more than worth the time spent.

Well, as it is Saturday morning and noon is quickly approaching, I will close my journal for now, but  I will be back to share more with you about this weekend’s adventure. For now, I need to finish eating, shower and get out the door for today’s leg of my adventure. TTFN!