e s t e r n L o r e ISSUE NUMBER FOUR The production of the last three issues of Western Lore focused on one major theme: time. The idea was to put this crap out efficiently. I seemed to be fixated on the idea of a regimented routine complete with subscriptions and a regular schedule. You know, professionalism. Since the last issue, I teamed up with Ed and Alex, two guys who'd helped on past issues, to help move things along and put some organization to this project. We got together semi-regularly and threw out ideas, assigned projects and set deadlines. I sat down with a friend of mine who'd helped start a magazine from scratch and take it to a huge, well-known publication to get some advice. I called, mailed and schemed until my brain hurt. Not a single thing came from these efforts and I'm proud to say that Ed, Alex and I didn't meet a single deadline. Right around this time, Ed got kicked out of his apartment and had to move, Alex quit his job, and I quit mine. By the time we sat down to take a look at what we had for issue number four (at that point 3/4 finished) it dawned on me that it sucked. More than the other stuff, #4 was an insipid, unfocused jumble of crap thrown together. So we started over. Shit-canned most of the issue and began again. Now its spirit is back and I learned my lesson: professionalism and organization don't necessarily make for a better publication. Sorry, reader. Basically we're doing the best we can to make it good, and we stopped caring how long it takes. With that I give you Western Lore #4. STABLE OF CONTENTS The Dirt on Candelaria 02 Spade Cooley: King of the Stomp 06 Story About Dirty Roads 08 An Old Man Foster Comic 12 Book Report: Car Camping 13 Why Nell Murbarger is Great: My Story 14 Why Nell Murbarger is Great: Her Story 15 Getting High With Dry Cleaner Bags 34 Tim White Editor In Chef Alex Zangeneh-Azam Creative lnsultant Edward Carroll Hysterical Preservationist Gerri Ranta Outtern Western Lore • 210 21st Street • Sacramento, Calif. 95814 COVER PHOTO: A. ZANGENEH AZAM Come on boys, it's time to go campin'! Now let's see, we got Hans, Jeff, Scott, Casey, Bill, William, John and myself into the idea of a trip to Candelaria. We set the weekend. A few Between Nevada's Exceis1or days before, I wasted a good chunk of my range and the cold, bald boss's money by spending half a day faxing pates of the MontE· Cristos, i1es a sections of road maps, topes and hand-drawn harsh world of sullen salt fiats deals to all those guys. Just for kicks, I photo and grim mountains, warpt::cl in copied articles and photos and sent those too the fiE'i}' crucible of Earth's ere- so's to waste more time and paper, as well as f <:W• on. IA' JIO spar..k ,u. ng streams so t·· give my friends some background on the town. ('Jn this somnolent waste, no trE•e- Candelaria is one of the infamous Seven sn, ac...je ctI wI .k e s uj• e cuppea1 1• 11 1• ts Sisters of which Murietta is a proud member. These two towns are close to one another, and valleys. It is a hard land that asks if you, the loyal reader of Western Lore, no quarter and grants none; yet, remember from previous stories, it takes a even here, are the hallmarks of long-ass time to get there. the prospecto1; the monurnents We got there late on a Friday night. We did that mark his rninE.·s, the cairns the matching number of beer cans to vehicles that monument his graves. under pylons thing that is described in the Gold Point article in Western Lore #2. It works. I think Scott, William and Bill were there first MurbarQ-er. and left the markers. Casey came later, John . was due in the morning and all of us 1956 Sacramento folk caravaned, being the last --------- arrivals of the evening. William and Bill had ,,. . 2 WESTERN LORE Candelaria done some scouting and reported the bad meeting our friend. I really tried to make sure news, and explained why base camp was in a everything would go smoothly; I mean, we had random spot in the desert and not at the town. a good time on the last trip despite Rawhide William and Bill went to Candelaria earlier not even being there, but was that a fluke? that day and found current mining activity at It was at this point that I began to under the outer edge of town where the old mines stand that you can't expect a town that sprung were. Damn. This happened to us on the last up from the desert, lasted twenty or fewer trip. Rawhide was leveled because of this shit. years, then busted, to still be intact a hundred Our scouts did report that it was worth check years later. It just doesn't happen. If it does, ing out, but we'd obviously need to find a new it's usually due to preservation efforts. It's real camping spot tomorrow. ly selfish of me to think that this place, or any We pulled up lawn chairs, popped some other, has been sitting there quietly waiting for tasty cans of Oly, and caught up. Of course, I my arrival, undisturbed. really don't remember much of what happened I then started to wonder what happens 'til that morning. Woke up, made food, drank next with both this trip and future trips. If all more beer (yes, I did have a beer before noon). my research and planning is being shit-canned We sat around waiting for John to show up, but on a regular basis and we find ourselves wan after debating the finer points of democracy dering off aimlessly into the desert - then and friendship, we decided we should split. It what? And if I can't research ghost towns and pained us. We didn't think he was going to plan trips -then what? show, but what if he did? That's a long way to Bummed am I, heading down the dirt road come to miss your friends. We really just came towards the paved. When we all reached the to the conclusion that he would understand. main road we stopped to take a piss. And you He was late, after all. know what? It really doesn't matter if you are I started getting a little down; Candelaria leaking next to those main thoroughfares was being mined and we may have missed because you could stand out there for a good WESTERN LORE 3 twenty minutes without ever seeing another and the history crumbled. When one reads car. As luck would have it, one was heading what little is in history books of this town, then our way. "Fuck it" was the general agreement. visits the location, staring at ruined founda So this Jeep pulls up and stops, and who tions, the mystery is overwhelming. We were gets out but our old friend John! We all all standing there, gazing off into the distance, laughed really hard at the luck and the rarity of or milling about the buildings and thinking the the situation. In a few minutes we were in our same thought -what happened here? vehicles heading to see what Candelaria was I stood at the edge of Main Street, holding up really about. a book with a photo of the town, taken from Candelaria, even today with the current where I was standing back in the day, and com mining activity, is quite special. When you pared. stand on Main Street there's just enough visual references to help one comprehend how big Life and death. Death and life. this town was, but little enough to make you wonder what happened. We hit the road again, deciding we'd head Sometime during the up around Mina and just take Civil War, Mexican prospec any ole dirt road heading to tors discovered silver and in nowhere in an attempt to find a 1865 Candelaria was officially camping spot. There's a road founded. What's interesting heading straight, just behind about this town is that in its Mina. We took that and drove heyday, foreign-born citizens a ways. outnumbered American-born We went a considerable four to one. Mexicans, distance, with the road getting Chinese and Anglos digging rough enough to just about in the dirt without a care for stop us. Almost at the point of God or water. giving up on this road for any There were no churches hope, we spotted an old stamp in Candelaria and water was mill up on a hill. Eureka! We as scarce as the religion. For found gold! Or silver, or maybe 17 years, water was hauled just leftover ore that wasn't from a spring nine miles away worth shit. At least we had a at a price of a buck a gallon. camping spot. Residents didn't need water This was a great camp. It though, they had booze. Ten was a three-tiered stamp mill saloons lined these streets, built on a hill of about a 30 next to a couple of hotels, degree angle. The ground and a half dozen stores. floor was a spacious square Violence and rough living with plenty of room for stuff - conditions were on par with coolers, lawn chairs, tiki torch neighboring towns of the es. On the second floor, Scott times. The editor of the set up his hammock - a perfect town's newspaper shot up everyone's fave spot for it. The stairs up to the third floor were saloonkeeper -that kinda stuff. A former resi narrow and rickety and rendered the top level dent of Candelaria, Doug Robinson, remarked, only good for sitting up there, enjoying the "Candelaria was a great camp! But it wasn't a view, playing guitar, and crooning dumb hillbil good place to live! There were no sewers and ly songs. few screens on doors or windows. The flies Once again, we had the foresight to drive were terrific. The stamp mill was a dry crusher, by the fireworks stand, so we were loaded. with no water for the battery box. The result Between Hans and William, there were a bunch was an endless cloud of dust and bad lungs for of rocket engines and model gliders. Jeff the millhands who put in 12 hours a day for thought to bring the U.F.O. box, too. $3.50." Someone was going to get hurt by the end of As with most of these towns, the silver ran the night. out, or, at least, exhausted the mining methods Night came. Intoxication set in. Food was of the day. People moved on and the buildings eaten. We constructed modified rockets and 4 WESTERN LORE gliders out of our stock. Taping two D engines for a couple of hours. to a glider with an M-80 and firecrackers All of us eventually were forced to slumber. attached made for quality entertainment. The next morning was bright, hot and difficult. Surprisingly, no one got hurt. We embarked on a mission of breakfast and After all of the explosive stuff, we decided packing -very difficult with hangovers. We got to construct a nice, peaceful, safe U.F.O. It was back down to the main road where the south a perfect night for it -slightly chilly, but still. It erner heads south on 95 and the northerner went up quite a ways, then the wind picked it heads north. up and it headed for the hills to our right. The The long exhausting trip home I spent candles were dripping and it started to plunge. coming to terms with something: what it means It crashed just over the ridge. Kurt and I to relax. noticed a glow and screamed, "Fire!" as our I love ghost towns, I love camping, and I drunken selves ran as fast as we could to go love to plan trips where it all comes together put it out. It was much farther away than we nicely with everyone involved enjoying it on thought. We eventually ran out of breath; as some level. I was worried when John didn't we did, John and William pulled up in the Jeep show up on time. It bugged me that we could asking if we wanted a ride. n't camp at Candelaria, that it was still living, The fire was soon out and we were back at even if it wasn't a town anymore. We ended up camp drinking even more. All was calm and camping at a stamp mill that we didn't know peaceful, which wasn't right. We realized that existed previously. We still managed to have a Bill was missing! Oh shit. Sure, he's a big, slow great time. How does that work? It was simi man, bllt it's a bigger desert. We started call lar to the previous two trips. ing his name. Nothing. A couple of us were climbing the hill behind the stamp mill, calling Balance. out Bill's name. When we got tired, we stopped and sat there on the hill. A few min It's okay to plan trips - it's good, actually. utes later this large, ominous thing emerged on And researching these locations is not only the side of the hill about twenty feet to our left. worthwhile, but quite rewarding. You can con Bill, who had been going up the hill to put the trol things to an extent, and that's good, but at fire out, had gotten tired, stopped to sit down a point you need to let go and turn down a and then passed out. street you've never been down before, just for Bill must've started a trend. Later that fun. night when we were all sitting around the When you complete a hard job, you're still campfire, John, who had a cast on his right in the productive mind-set. When you force arm, was sitting in his lawn chair, quite late, yourself to kick off the boots and pop open a quite drunk, and, when he went to take the last beer, everything is okay. Too much work will sip of beer left in his can, fell backwards and kill you. Too much relaxation will too. passed out. He slept all cattywampus like that WESTERN LORE 5 PADE LEY: KING OF THE STOMP Among the most typical of responses I have on to his very own band. Spade was in. received upon answering the question, After playing for a time with Roy and the "Who's that playing on them thar speakers?" boys, Spade's amazing talent earned him a include, but are not limited to: "Are you sure growing reputation as a mean- ass fiddler with that's a real name?" "Spade Cooley?" "What is nothing to lose. He had his fill of the poor a Spade Cooley?" "Is it contagious?" My house and his share of rough times, so when he answer? "Yes". got the chance to prove his talent to the Spade lived the dream. Donnell Clyde greater populace, he lunged, tackled and pul Cooley sprung forth from the dirt and grime of verized the opportunity. With the actual details the Oklahoma dust bowl on December 17, being obfuscated by tall tales, ego and brava 1910, and eventually found his way, thanks to do, all that really matters is the end result. his astounding fiddle playing, to the glamour Spade took over the Venice Pier Ballroom in and excess of Hollywood. Learning his craft ·. late 1941, where he and his new band ruled the from his father, a real old time Hoedown fid roost. Now this was during wartime folks, and dler, our man Spade lit out for the territory and the biggest thing around Venice at the time never looked back. Spade worked the occa was a little old thing called McDonnel Douglas sional odd job: ranch hand, probably a card aircraft, who employed a number of people shark, hence the moniker "Spade", until he hit too astounding to mention here (actually, I the bright lights of Hollywood in the 1930's don't know the figures). Two of these employ where he became a film stand in for old Roy ees happened to be my future Grandmother, Rogers. Now Spade must have figured himself Martha, a riveter, and my future Grandfather to be on the road to riches, and guess what? Jack, The Big Cheese. The two of them along He was. Roy Rogers came to find about with most of the other employees would head Spade's fiddling prowess and soon signed him down to the pier after long shifts at the plant. 6 WESTERN LORE By this time, 1943, the western ballroom scene ceeded to start an inmate music program that was peaking, so the interest in Spade was of no earned him model inmate status and parole, small matter. Later in '43, Bob Wills was hired slated for 1970. In November of 1969, he was as a replacement for Spade, and you can imag allowed to play his first concert in over ten ine the reaction. Mr. Cooley called for a week years, for, ready for this, the Alameda County end long battle with Wills' band in order to let Sheriff's Association in Oakland, Ca. Irony ruled the audience decide on who would replace the day and Spade played. Spade walked off who. Spade won. Spade left. the stage. Spade died. His third and final heart He smugly moved on and leased his own attack claimed him backstage, allowing him to pad, signed a deal with Okeh, and swung into make good on his refusal to die in jail and the late 40's with a whole lot of dough. He cementing his status among the legends of made movies, lots of records, lots of money country music. and few friends. He wasn't in the business to Since my youth I had been exposed to the make friends, he was there to play the hell out rolling, drawling twang of Spade and his boys of his fiddle. And so he did. He married Ella as they played country swing standards to the Mae Evans in a grand, Las Vegas ceremony that amazing originality of Spade's own composi was undoubtedly gaudy as hell (just like his tions such as Troubled Over You and Detour. suits) in 1945. In 1946 he scored big with Now, as I enter my fifties, I am still enamored, Detour for Okeh, then he left for RCA Victor amazed and more a fan than ever of Spade the and a bigger fish to fry: television. maverick, and his ground breaking musical Spade starred in the Hoffman Hayride in innovations. This one's (and the next couple) 1949, (Hoffman made television sets) and pro are for you Spade. pelled the show to ultra- hit status. My father tells me stories of him and his siblings being taken by my grandparents, Jack and Martha, to this show many a time. However, interest in the country scene was waning toward the early fifties, so Spade, in all his wisdom, changed with it. He re-arranged his orchestra, threw some curves and batted .1 000. Shorter, sim plistic country was replacing the lavish, com plex, almost big band style favored by Spade and others in his genre. The Spade Cooley Show prospered into 1953, then Lawrence Welk. happened. Spade hit the bottle. Hard. (Who wouldn't?) After all of this, one might be inclined to regard Mr. Cooley as a kindred spirit, a gentle sage amidst the heartbreak and loneliness of country music. If I may, I would like to set the record straight. Spade was no saint. Spade was as rough and tumble as any cowboy on the prairie. In fact, it seems that Spade had more cactus needles in shorts than damn near any one else. Fast forward to 1961. His show can celed, his marriage and career in ruins, he got ugly. And mean. So mean in fact that on April 3rd, 1961, Spade killed his wife. Talk about a country legend! But it gets better, if that's how you want to look at it. Not only did he kill his wife, but he stomped her to death. In front of his 14 year old daughter. He was given a life sentence. Now that folks, is country. The rest of the story is something out of a novel. While holed up in Vacaville Correctional, Spade declared that he would not die in jail and pro- WESTERN LORE 7 " ... The road narrowed. For a while we wondered if it was passable. We came up over a hill and hot damn! Right in front of us were about five wild mustangs ... "