My Mother's Help

A Page of History

 


As many of you know, I suffered a great loss April 1, when my husband Ed died suddenly. I was at a loss on how to cope when I remembered that my mother Marion Deaver lived seven years after my father Paul died. She would have lived even longer but died of cancer right before her 92nd birthday.

She got “needier” as she got older, in the sense that she did not drive, and we had to take her to the doctor and buy her groceries for her.

She had a standard list of what she ate, and when she forgot to write something down we would just buy it anyway.

Since my dad did all the grocery shopping she had no idea of the price of anything. I remember she always checked the grocery bill and threw a fit when she saw how much bread cost in the ‘90s. She thought it was still 25 cents!

The main thing I have chosen to take from her was that she lived all those years after my daddy’s death by herself. She cooked, read the newspaper every day, did her laundry and had a sense of normalcy about her life.

She always had a dog, and if one died I would go get her another one to keep her company.

She started watching football and NASCAR, and she always wanted to share it with us. I don’t watch those things, but that didn’t stop her from telling me all about it anyway.

I’ve decided that if she could do it, so can I. I am 20 years or so younger than she was when she was widowed and have a busy life with children and grandchildren, but at night – when it gets dark – I am still alone (except for the dogs!).

My mother made us tough, and our German stock keeps us going. I know I will be okay because of her.

I decided to share a happier time of when she was out doing what she liked best with my Dad – roaming around the desert on dirt roads “exploring.”

One day they were coming back from such an excursion, driving home along a dirt road northwest of Mojave, when my Mom saw something sticking out of the ground. Of course she yelled “Stop Paul!” – and he did.

There was a steel wire and wood sticking out of the ground, and when they pulled on it they discovered an old wooden water pipeline. My Dad, with his trusty shovel, which he always carried in case they got stuck, dug up a piece of the line.

My Mom knew it was old and in her newspaper reporter mind started investigating it.

According to Bert Wegman of Randsburg and Bill Shore of Rosamond, she found out that it was part of an old water line that ran from Cameron Canyon.

Some of the line was made of iron pipe.

The pipe was originally buried one to two feet deep, but wind and flash floods destroyed much of the pipe line. The old timers noted that coyotes caused problems digging it up as well.

Another section was found about nine feet long as well. The old water pipes were turned over to the Kern Antelope Historical Society and later displayed at Tropic Gold Camp Museum.

This discovery was probably made in the ‘60s (Again, my Mom with her not-including-the-dates-with-the-clipping). The historical society planned a field trip to visit the area. The pipeline was still under bare ground and in 60 years, from the date of the article, no vegetation had grown back.

Richard Bailey, curator of the Kern County Museum then, noted that similar pipe was used back then in the Bakersfield area.

When you are “out and about” in the desert, camping or riding a dirt bike, slow down once in a while and look around – you never know what you might find.

 
 

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