Catching Up In Campo on a Windy Day

Catching Up In Campo on a Windy Day

The wind has awakened me. At sundown it was cold, and getting colder by the minute, and I went to bed  not long after 6 PM. I was busy all day and tired. Just before dark I had gotten cold while trying to make the dog’s chain link kennel more wind tight.  Sheba and Bebe are pit bulls and their short fur doesn’t give them much protection against the cold. They have a rectangular wooden doghouse inside the kennel, and the kennel has a roof on it. We also wrapped heavy silver tarps around two and a half sides for protection from the cold wind, which is coming from the side not completely covered. It can blow right into the doghouse. Bebe is just a big fat puppy and I don’t think it bothers her, but Sheba, with an injured leg, shows signs she still has pain and she shivers. Luckily she gets the back of the doghouse. Bebe blocks the door and her fat body warms her mother up.  It doesn’t get cold enough here for the ground to freeze, but the temperature often goes below freezing, and the wind chill makes it feel like North Dakota in winter. Sometimes when I work outside my hands ache as much as they did back in Grand Forks, years ago.

I went to bed early to get warm. The wind is coming from the northeast, the side my ill-fitting door is on. It finds its way around the door and through every crack in my louvered windows. I read for a short time and fell asleep surrounded by five warm cats. There is black short haired and velvety Squeaker, a mischievous grandmother; Inky, a rascally black long haired male; Buddy the Boss and Riley, two beautiful long haired yellow tiger cats, and Forrest, a big white cat who is really pale yellow with stripes when you look at him closely. He used to be a terrified tiny kitten that I got from an Indian family, and he would snuggle on my shoulder for reassurance. He is huge now but still likes to do that.

Now, at midnight I feel as if it is morning, and ideas for stories are chasing each other around in my mind. I want to tell about my trip to Campo yesterday, but it is hard to keep from being sidetracked into Campo’s history, which is several stories in themselves. Between the years 1993 in the spring, until the fall of 2000, I lived in the heart of ‘downtown’ Campo as a county volunteer at the Gaskill Brothers Stone Store Museum. That is 19 miles from this Indian horse camp on a windy mountain where I now live, so that makes it a 38-mile round trip. At the price of gas, I don’t go often. The reason I put the single quote around ‘downtown’ is because Campo is such a rural place that bobcats and coyotes make forays during the day among the widely spaced buildings. Most of the business is a mile east at a six-store mall with a dirt parking lot. There is also a convenience store with two gas pumps and a hot dog. hamburger, and taco stand called the Ice Cream Place.

During the seven years I lived at the Gaskill Brothers Stone Store Museum I made quite a few friends. I miss them, so yesterday I decided to have lunch there in hopes of seeing them. I called the Community Center where lunch is served for seniors three days a week, and made my reservation. Beef stew was on the menu with a salad made with spinach, a delicious soft hot roll, and lemon pudding for dessert. When I arrived I was pleased to see that lot of the people I know were there.

 Hilda, a Dutch war bride from WWII was there. She and I helped a beautiful English girl who came through Campo on a horse about ten years ago . She was finishing a trip from Brunswick Georgia, to Imperial Beach, California, just north of the Mexican border. She was two days away from the end of the ride when she arrived here. That is another story I want to tell you someday. Roger Challberg, a retired school principal, who was another county volunteer, and my supervisor at the Stone Store was there, as were at least ten other people I know.

But, I get the news from my friend Rich, a man of about 65 years who took over my job when I left after my husband, Donald, died in 2000. I think Rich told me he was schooled as an engineer, but he worked a long time in Hollywood in the movie and TV film industry. Later he worked for a large company who sent him around the world conducting seminars on something that I don’t remember. Now, he is a one-man show, making everything at the Stone Store Museum better, and updating the archives and computer equipment. He has done wonders since I was there. He needs a secretary desperately, and it makes me feel bad that I am no longer able to help. I used to be uniquely fitted for the job there. Someone had better step in and help him, or he is going to disappear under a deluge of unsorted mail and donations of artifacts to the museum .

After lunch we went to the museum and Rich showed me the recently acquired bronze bust of a notable black veteran, Fred Jones, who was stationed at Camp Lockett here in Campo, during WWII. He was a sergeant in the 28^th Cavalry, one the regiments of Buffalo Soldiers that dated to the Indian Wars on the Great Plains right after the Civil War. Fred had worked hard, along with Roger Challberg, to try to establish a state park in Campo on the site of Camp Lockett which was the last home of the Buffalo Soldiers before they were sent to North Africa and disbanded. He died not long after learning they had succeeded, and the park is in the pipeline. An impressive niche is being built to house and protect the bronze bust.

Rich also showed me three books that have finally been completed with his help. Two are about the Kumeyaay Indian tribe and their history. One version of this book is a coffee-table model with wonderful, very old pictures. This was compiled and written by Mike Connolly who retired from an engineer career to work for the betterment of his tribe. He wrote another version that is a textbook to be sold to the general public, and also be used in Indian schools. There is a teacher's guide to go with the second book. The books sell for $60 and $25, so it will be a while before I can buy them.

The third book is about the history and geology along the route of the railroad that runs through Campo. Since inception several railroad companies have owned it, but while being constructed it was called the Impossible Railroad because of the extremely difficult mountain route it took. It was finished as far as Campo in 1916, and reached completion at El Centro in 1919. I know most of the history from working in the archives at the Stone Store Museum, but I am eager to read about the geology along the tracks. I’ve got to have that book! The railroad track was modernized recently by lowering the tracks. They dug down more than four feet deeper, and re-laid the tracks at that level to allow more head room. Now they are making twice-weekly trips down the perilous route bringing lumber from a junction with the Union Pacific line, and sand, plaster board and bales of alfalfa from El Centro. This train may be slow, but it can haul a lot more per trip, and is a lot cheaper than hauling freight by truck up the freeway route through the mountains.

When I lived in Campo, and every time I visit, I feel as if I have gone back in time. I learned so much history of the families who settled there around 1868, that in my mind I see it the way it used to be. I enjoyed telling the pioneer stories when I was docent earlier at the Butterfield Stage Station in the desert, and later at the Stone Store Museum on weekends; so much in fact that I stopped falling down in a faint. I actually did that once! I stopped being so afraid because most of the people listening to me looked as if they were fascinated. I lost my extreme shyness because of the way they received my amateur performances.

Well, that was my day yesterday. I wonder what today will bring. The dogs are barking at maurading range cattle, and the wind is coming up again. I hear rain  pelting my roof from time to time. I hope the outside dogs and my feral cat, Tiger Tom, are OK. It's three o'clock in the morning and I'm going back to bed.