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Out of the Mouth of Boards
By Nancy J. Knight
Homesteading in the High Desert – Morongo Valley, Joshua Tree, Twentynine Palms, Wonder Valley, and other
outlying areas began in the late 1800’s, but picked up after WWI and WWII. Veterans hoped the dry desert climate would cure their many sufferings from the wars. Conditions had to be met to qualify as a
homesteader, and then the government gave you a one quarter section of land – 160 acres – for about $16.00.
Later, came five acre parcels (“Small Tract Act of 1938”); just make the required improvements on the land, and it was yours.
- He said: “Martha baby, I know you don’t want to leave family and friends
(cough-cough).
And I know you’ll miss shopping, gardening, and the morning newspaper, but Baby (cough-cough), with the clean, fresh air in the desert (cough-cough), and the natural beauty to behold, I know this move is the right thing to do (cough-cough).”
- The cabin-to-be-built-someday said: “Why people leave their nice, warm homes,
beautiful landscapes, comforts and conveniences, beats the heck out of me!
After they are here, there may not be material to build me; they may have to live in a tent, abandoned cabin, maybe even a cave. Nope, the missus won’t like that one bit, but it is beautiful, and there’s lots of fresh air in this here desert!”
Homesteading was not a piece of cake. You had to build a “livable” house, and usually an outhouse,
in the first year. There was no electricity, plumbing, or running water. Other improvements had to be made the following years.
Some souls survived, but mostly, harsh desert life was not to their liking, and they left.
- She said: “I swear Harold, when you said the desert had fresh air, I didn’t
expect hurricane winds and sand blowing all over everything! Why just today, I washed clothes, laid them on some boulders to dry, and that mean, ole wind blew them away! They’re probably –
probably…well who knows where by now. And you told me it was beautiful. What’s so beautiful about sand and rocks? There aren’t even any trees, except those ole spiny things if you want to call them
trees. I just hate this awful ole place!”
After WWII, growth began to blossom, and by 1947, Joshua Tree had a whopping population of about 550
people! Small cabins dotted the landscape in the Morongo Basin, and even turkey ranches in the Sunfair area.
It was estimated 500,000 turkeys were there, and was even suggested the area be named “Turkey Town, USA.” Well, that didn’t go over, and for unknown reasons, the turkey ranches faded away. Some say an occasional wild turkey can be spotted though; I think I’ve seen some at Wally World in Yucca Valley!
- He said: “Well, Martha, do you like your new digs?
This is much better than “tenting” huh? You were such a sport though; especially after Harold Jr. came along, and later, the twins. Now I know the outside walls look a lot like the roof, but Bill from down the hill gave me a good price on the stuff. And, if you string yardage up inside, you can partition off three or four little rooms! How about that? You’ve even got a wood cook stove, and little windows so you can look out and see the younguns! Don’t ya just love it Martha? Say, I’m not coughing much anymore am I?”
- She said: “Yes, I do love it, and I love you for not giving up when I wanted
to. The desert beauty … sunrises, sunsets, wildflowers in the spring; little critters that scurry around, and yes, even those spiny ole trees have beautiful blooms sometimes. This land has taught us
to appreciate nature, one another, and things that money cannot buy. Yes, Harold I do love it here.”
Homesteaded cabins were many things to many people, a step up from what they previously lived in i.e.
tents, caves, lean-tos, etc. As they could afford it, they added rooms, improved construction to adobe or concrete bricks, or a better quality of wood; then a well, and indoor plumbing, which meant not using
the old “two-holer”. Others simply left the area. Believe it or not, some people still live in them, and wouldn’t live anywhere else, and some use them as a week-end retreat to get away from the city.
People were surprised to find that Grandma Martha had left a dilapidated, run-down cabin to them in her
will … in some god-forsaken place known as the High Desert of California for gosh sakes! And, they had to fix/repair the disgusting mess, or, as deemed by San Bernardino County officials, the unsightly, more
visible by often traveled roads, were going to be leveled and demolished.
- The County Officials said: “Look at these ugly, ramshackle shacks.
They’re nothing but eyesores. What will people think when they come here and see these old things? What good are they anyway? Let’s get rid of them. Let’s mow them all down!”
Over one hundred cabins, deemed the most unsightly, were razed. Although a few owners of these
cabins did comply with county requests to fix/repair them, most did not; however, over 300 cabin owners flattened their own.
Only a fraction of the infamous homesteaded cabins were destroyed.
Many still dot the land, beaten by sun and wind with only their frames left. Some are more intact, perhaps a broken window or two; the door is wide open, but if you look quickly while passing by, you’ll see an old sofa or a bed. Sometimes faded curtains flutter in the breeze. There are still some, who if they had their way, would “mow them all down.”
- The cabin said: “They say
that I have outlived my purpose – that I’m no longer needed. That may be so with some of my cabin mates, but not me. What? I’m not entitled to having feelings? I am a part of history. If my walls could talk, you’d learn so much. If only you would try to see the beauty in me. If you would wonder what happened here. When was I built? Who lived here? Were there children? What kind of lives did they lead?
- If you dispose of me and others like me, what will artists have to paint, or photographers have to
shoot, or writers have to write about?
Sure, there are occasional cabins (through no fault of their own) that become involved with some not so nice things. Sometimes people hang out in them and do drugs, even make drugs in them. Some just live there for a while, leave a mess, and move on. I understand why people don’t want these things in the area, but not all of us are like that.
- Sometimes when people stop to take my picture, I hear them talking, “Mary, it’s so
peaceful and quiet here (this shouted over noisy three wheelers that just roared by), I just love this old cabin. With a little fixing, we could retire here and
get away from the rat race down below (this shouted over the roar of the two four wheel drive trucks that just flew by leaving them in their dust). We could watch the stars at night (not really folks, most houses around here have bright
lights on their property and leave them on all night). Look! They’re building more new houses, and behind us – two more.” It’s really built up around here huh? Oh dear,
they’ll probably tear this old cabin down soon and put up another new house. Man, this is getting to be like Orange County.” That’s only some of the things they say.
Some things I can’t repeat.
- I hope future generations will have places to go - to look at, walk around, and wonder
what took place there. It’s too bad big cities and greedy people had to ruin things for us.
Why, I can’t even see my old friend with the pink tiled roof anymore. I don’t even know if it’s still there. You’ve heard the expression “out of the mouths of babes …? If only they
knew what could come “out of the mouth of boards.”
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