February 20, 2012
ENTERTAINMENT
Both kids and adults used to entertain
themselves night and day with an assortment of games, activities
and idleness. Before the time of radio, TV, video games or cell
phones, we found all sort of things that were fun to do.
Before the highway was straightened out
along Ventura Street, that street was a dead end with the
community baseball field located between it and Santa Clara
Street that served as the highway through town. Every town had a
team of kids and adults to challenge other communities. Fillmore
had some outstanding teams.
Swallows Nest on the Sespe Creek was used
when anyone wanted to go swimming. The sale of new swimsuits was
active early in the year. Kennie Fine’s aunt bought suits for
all of her nieces and nephews and swore they would all learn to
swim after one child drowned in the Sespe. Families often spent
a warm Sunday afternoon with a picnic and swim time in the area.
Church took up the morning and picnics the afternoons.
Every man had his favorite hunting and
fishing spots. Long- term hunting camps were set up back in the
mountains and used over and over. Many families still have an
old photo of their grandpa with a couple of nice bucks taken in
the Sespe. The story is, when the Warrings discovered how good
the hunting and fishing were around here, they decided right
away to move here and they called their place Buckhorn Ranch.
(The Buckhorn School is now a residence on Highway 126.)
Fishing holes near the present hatchery or
down by the highway bridge would yield a mess of trout anytime
you wanted to throw in a line. When the opening day arrived May
1st, so many people came up from Los Angeles to fish that the
locals almost camped out to save their favorite spot along the
creek. With any luck at all, everyone got their limit on opening
day. A fish spear was often used when a fish was needed for
supper even if the season was closed.
The movie theater on Fillmore Street was a favorite with kids
any time they could do an errand and earn the 10˘ admission.
During the silent movie days, if there was no piano player to
make the music, the big old music box was turned on and it
tinkled tunes for the afternoon. We are fortunate this beautiful
old instrument can still be seen at the Fillmore Historical
Museum. (And if you are good, they might even play it for you.)
Many large families had each of the kids
playing a musical instrument. After dinner in the evening, it
was time for all of them to tune up and play together. Oh, what
a time that was! Many of them also played in the Fillmore
community bands. If you liked music, if you wanted music, you
made music! It was as simple as that!
The elementary school and high school usually had an operetta
every year—the Christmas program was the highlight of the season
with assorted talent and the nativity as the closing. These
activities brought out everyone who enjoyed singing too. The
chorus practiced, family groups often had their own gospel
quartets or duets with a special friend and entertained
everyone. Oh, what a joy to sing together.
When the May Festival committee started
making plans, the kids all wanted to be part of the fun. They
decorated wagons and bikes and pets and loved being part of the
parade. Adults and older kids worked on elaborate floats or
fancy costumes for horse riding groups. The town not only wanted
to be entertained, but many wanted to do the entertaining.
Horseshoes, tug of war and kids games kept people busy all day.
Occasionally the greased pig contest or greased pole climb
challenged the more adventuresome boys. The orange peeling
contest was open to different age groups with trophies for every
winner.
All kids enjoyed camping and hiking. The
Boy Scouts had the first troop in 1915. They were actually part
of Henry Young’s YMCA group, but soon incorporated in the
scouts. Girl Scouts were a part of Fillmore lore by 1937. Being
active and camping was great fun for any group. Fresh air,
hiking and learning to cook were all part of being a kid.
On a long summer day, while you waited for
the ice man to make a delivery down your street and you could
sneak a tiny piece of ice, boys and girls flopped in the grass
or under a tree and just played “being idle.” For real adventure
the books were brought outside for an afternoon of reading for
sheer pleasure. Their chores were done until Mom called again
and they did not need to do anything. If they got bored, they
watched the clouds and picked out figures in them or looked
closely at the ground to watch tiny bugs scurry under a leaf or
climb into the center of a flower. They dreamed about what they
wanted to do when they grew up. But there was no rush to grow
up. They relaxed until a friend came by and invited them to go
fly their kites in an open lot or play ball or dolls. In the
evening, counting shooting stars was great. (Or catching fire
flies if you were lucky enough to live in the Midwest.) If you
had the chance of quietly listening to the grownups reminisce
and tell family stories, you added a bit to
your knowledge of history and genealogy and didn’t even realize
it. It probably took years before you realized what those
stories meant to you.There were dozens of things to do for fun,
but sometimes, you don’t need to be
entertained! Those were the good old days.
MARIE’S FLY BY
By Marie Wren
Route 66
Almost everyone living in California
has heard of Route 66, or traveled it from Chicago/Midwest to
this land of “milk and honey.” It was THE WAY to get to
California and followed an old trail that dated from the 1850s.
U.S. Navy Lt. Edward Beale had 44 men
and 25 camels imported from Tunisia and they laid out the first
federally funded wagon road across Arizona about 1850.
They followed old Indian trails from Fort Defiance to the mouth
of the Mojave River. Soon the first telegraph lines followed the
same route and so did settlers in covered wagons and then
railroads. By 1926 it was designed Route 66 and Model Ts
were chugging along and delighted to find part of it
paved.
When Route 66 was laid out as an all
weather road, it took travelers from Chicago south of the Rocky
Mountains before heading west to California.
There was even a song about it late in the 40s that named many
of the towns. It gave Oklahoma 432 miles of new road—only New
Mexico had more miles than Oklahoma when it came to Route 66.
The city of Tulsa grew up around this new section of road and
soon will open a Route 66 Museum and interpretive center.
The old Lincoln Highway was dedicated
in 1913 and ran from New York’s Times Square to San Francisco’s
Lincoln Park---3389 miles. It was known as the Father Road. John
Steinbeck was the one who called Route 66 the Mother Road.
During the depression of the 30s, it was used by hundreds of
dust bowl families searching for work and new homes between
Oklahoma and California.
After WW ll the federal government
started a new system of interstate highways to connect all
sections of the United States together. I-40 followed the
old Route 66 in many places, but in others it found a quicker
and easier way to get THERE. In Arizona, from Winslow to
Seligman, the two roads criss-crossed each other in many places.
Then at Seligman, the new road “cut across” straight west and
bypassed Oatman to cross the Colorado River at Topock. Travel
was faster, the road was easier and people loved it. I-40
was a big success in Arizona. It is still the main road between
California and the mid-west with heavy traffic thru desert and
mountains and miles of NOTHING unless you have a good
imagination and interest in history and can see wagon trains and
Indians from long ago in your head.
A few years ago, Gene and I decided
we’d try to stay on the old Route 66 as much as possible on a
trip from Minnesota to Oklahoma and back home to California.
We both had traveled the original road on our early trips
between Ardmore, Oklahoma and Fillmore, California in the 40s,
so we had memories of those journeys. On this trip it was
my job to watch for signs along I-40 showing where we could turn
off the super highway and get to old 66. It was a journey back
in time for us. Often from 66 we could see the I-40 and the
traffic along it, but eventually 66 went off on it’s own course
and we had the desert all to ourselves. The vast country of New
Mexico and Arizona is a whole world unto itself and we loved it.
People were still interested in the
natural wonders along the way on Route 66, the Painted Desert,
Petrified Forest, etc. We discovered that “towns” we remembered
from the 40s were barely wide places in the road, but many were
starting to come to life as interest in old 66 was revived by
new tourists.
Original neon signs were brightly lit,
motels were remodeled and tiny restaurants were back in
business. Both foreign and local tourists were bringing Route 66
back to life. It seems like everyone wanted souvenirs and bought
memorabilia. Any OLD car license plate brought a hefty
sum. Postcards and junk with “Route 66” imprinted on it started
selling. The most memorable section of the road to me was about
a mile of very steep road just before we got into Seligman (I
think)---there was room to pull off the road and walk a short
way to a little spring. I can only imagine the number of
cars that needed radiators filled there in the 30s. It was
a bad stretch of road in the 90s and I was happy we made it
without incident. I can’t imagine trying it in a Model T!
When we arrived in Seligman, it looked like
something from an amusement park with burros in the middle of
the little main street/highway. The animals were
descendants of those who worked nearby gold mines long ago and
now ran wild. The gentle critters only wanted you to hand feed
them and try to move them out of the way of traffic. It
was a “sight to behold.” The Colorado River and California
were just ahead and when we crossed, Gene and I felt like we
were HOME, but the old memories still linger. Route 66
took both of us from Oklahoma to a new home in California and we
never wanted to leave, but bringing old memories to the surface
was fun too. You are never too old to make new memories.
If you want to remember one of the
original wagon trails to California, try the old Route 66!
Foreign tourists think of it as “a connection with America.”
I guess I do too.
MARIE’S FLY BY
By Marie Wren
February 13, 2012
Early Oil
How many of you have been involved in the oil industry
around Fillmore or other parts of the world? When I moved here
in 1947, there were two industries that kept the town going full
speed: oil drilling and growing oranges! Both of those have
changed in over 60- years.
My early days as an “oil patch” kid
in New Mexico have left me with an abiding interest in the oil
industry---I am so hooked on it that I do not find the odor from
crude oil offensive! When I married, my husband Gene was
working in the local oil fields and his mother taught me how
wash his work clothes---now, that laundry takes skill! In a few
months, he turned into a farmer and we left OIL behind, but it
is still interesting.
Recently I bought a book about the history of the Union
Oil Company—it mentions locations around here and people that
we’ve heard about and a few that Gene knew. The description of
how the early wells were drilled answer many questions for me.
Most of you know the oil industry started in
Pennsylvania. They had oil seeps very similar to those found
near Santa Paula. A 1755 map even has a spot called “Petroleum”
on it. There was little demand for oil. The Seneca Indians
called it ‘au nus’ and used it for rheumatic complaints. General
Ben Lincoln in the Revolutionary War said his troop “paused in
the valley to bathe their feet and joints in oil they found
floating on the creek.” Another man said it burned well in lamps
and might be good for street lighting, “If by some process it
could be rendered odorless.” (I guess the smell-discouraged
people even in the very early days.)
When the Indians wanted to collect oil, they found a seep
and dug a pit and let it fill naturally. Then they dipped out
what they needed. The first commercial sale of this thick,
sticky “rock oil” was by Samuel Kier, a Pittsburgh druggist. He
bottled the stuff and sold it to heal just about anything that
was wrong with people. He urged it for external or internal
use.
Sam became the first “oil millionaire.” His success brought
others into the picture to try and figure out how they could use
and sell the stuff that was just pouring out of little seeps.
A Yale professor, Ben Silliman, Jr.,
analyzed samples and suggest a synthetic coal oil could easily
be refined from it and used for lighting homes. And the Oil
Industry was OFF. The Seneca Oil Company was formed locally and
they were ready to go to work. They were sure that if they dug a
hole deeper in the ground, they would find the lake or river of
oil and that would be faster than letting it seep into a pit.
Our Chumash Indians used the oil seeps north of Santa
Paula to coat their baskets inside and make them water proof.
They also used this thick crude oil as a trade item. The
Ventura County Museum has several baskets treated this way if
you want to see them. Some of those old seeps still make puddles
beside the road to Ojai. It is an interesting area to show your
visiting relatives from the Midwest. In hot summer weather, the
flow is very liquid.
Uncle Billy Smith was a blacksmith and toolmaker, and he
became the first oil driller. For centuries water wells had been
drilled by using a small flexible limb with one end and the
middle laid across supports with something heavy hanging on the
free end where you wanted the hole. By pulling down on the pole
and letting the spring back thrust the bit in the ground, you
were able to punch a hole and make a well. Uncle Billy attached
a heavy bit to do his
“drilling” and rigged up slings so two men could pull down the
limb and when they let go, the bit bounced up and down and cut
into the ground. It was simple, a proven way to make a hole and
worked. As the hole got deeper, Uncle Billy inserted stovepipe
to keep the sides from caving in. On August 27, 1859, when Uncle
Billy peered down into the 69 ft. deep hole, he saw a black
substance floating only a few feet from the surface. Yep, they
struck oil for the first time!
This original well never had flowing
oil, but it was easily pumped. Soon the little valley was the
scene of a wild scramble to lease land and start drilling. The
oil sold for $20 a barrel. Everyone would soon be rich. They
quickly learned a faster method of drilling with a wooden
derrick and better bits instead of the spring pole for punching
the hole—cable tool drilling was
invented! Steam engines provided the “man power” to lift the
bit---but they still had to develop a market for their product.
Lyman Stewart had grown up in that area and knew every
oil seep in the county. He was 19 years old and working as an
apprentice to his father learning the tanning trade. He hated
it. Lyman soon took his small savings of $125 and invested in a
one-eighth interest in a lease and quickly lost every last
cent. But it started his life long love of oil and developing
it and
eventually turned it into the Union Oil Company. Most of the
time through the years he was on the verge of bankruptcy or
borrowing money for the next enterprise. This is typical of big
oil tycoons. It has usually been a big well after a whole bunch
of money eating “dusters.” Lyman’s life was an interesting one
that went from Pennsylvania to California, but his eye for
knowing where to look for oil eventually took Union Oil into a
class of its own. Yes, he died in
1923 with “money in his pocket.”
For more interesting details, go
through the Oil Museum in Santa Paula. They have an excellent
presentation of maps, book, pictures and equipment that was used
when Ventura County was leading the way to produce oil. The
museum is housed in the Union Oil Building on Main Street.
MARIE’S FLY BY
By Marie Wren