In the last few months, since my mother's death, we have been sorting through the flotsam and jetsam left in her house. Every now and then we discover something notable, usually because we can't believe anyone would have saved it for so long. Last week, we discovered a piece of family history, a real treasure, just in time for Father's Day.
My father's mother, Bernadette, hand-wrote a brief autobiography on
the back of a photocopied article by John Risser. Neither the print
source or date of the published article are visible on the copy. The article tells the story of John Augustus
Sutter, and bears the title: Gold Found
in California. His story has been told and retold over the years; you can find one version of Wikipedia.
This article begins, “John Augustus Sutter, who, for a while,
was one of the richest men in the world, was not born to wealth.” And continues
with the saga of how John Sutter discovered gold in California and died in
Washington, D.C., with nothing but his reputation.
Above the photo of John A. Sutter "as a young man," Bernadette has written,
“He looks just like my father.” The story she has written on the reverse side, begins with her family of origin, all the way back to John Augustus Sutter's brother, who never came close to being the richest man anywhere. I have preserved her handwritten story in a
Word document, without changing her spellings and lack of punctuation--not an easy task for and English teacher.
An abridged version of the story
appears below. Suffice to say it's filled with my grandmother's wit and knack for storytelling. Her story and the details of the article itself fill in some of the family names and dates, so useful in filling out the family tree. It also fills in the gaps of her life, the childhood that often was unhappy and accounts for the strong willed, often cantankerous grandmother I knew. My maternal great-grandparents died before I was born, and I don't recall ever hearing anything about my great grandfather.
This, in part, is Bernadette's story:
This is my great grand fathers brother. [John Augustus Sutter]
My grand fathers name was George Sutter and he was born in
Switzerland and when he came to the U.S.A. settled in Mexico Missouri.
He made hand made cigars for a living.
All the Sutters had a son named John. After there grand
father. My grand parents George and Caroline are buried in Mexico Missouri. Her
maiden name was Brown. I have a picture of there tomb stone its five ft high.
My father had a brother Charles and three sisters Elizabeth
and Katie and Caroline my father was the youngest. He was two ½ years old when
his mother died and three ½ when his father killed his self went out to the
Cemetary leaving five little orphans.
He was a Mason and lodge brothers the children in there
homes. Captain John Sutter was my grand fathers great Uncle.
A family named Ed Hilderbrandt raised my father on there
cattle farm. And Pa Pa was raised as Edward Hilderbrant they never adopted him.
When he was sixteen he ran away came up to St. Louis to look
for his brother Charlie and three sisters. Lupton the undertaker raised Charlie
and he had been Mayor of Mexico and owned a General store and undertaking
Parlor. His first name was Clayton. And there family still own Luptons on
Delmar.
Charlie was married when Pa Pa found him and so Lizzie and
Caroline. Katie never married and was the only aunt I knew never met Caroline
or Lizzie.
I worked one summer for my Uncle Charlie and lived with him
and his wife Kate.
Thats how I found out so much about what happen. His Mother
was 28 when she died and his father 20. Charlie was eight and Lizzie 10
Caroline 6 Kate 4. So Charlie told Pa Pa they had an Uncle Otto in Chicago and
he went up there and Otto and his wife Mary took him in. But he visited the
others often and one June he met mama at a Garden party. And they started
writing. She was daperate girl trying to get away from her domineering father
and so she gave him her address.
She would have given Jack the ripper her address.
...And so Christmas came and there windows were so dirty and
mama said John will you wash the windows for me. And so he got some rags and
newspapers and coal oil and he wiped the windows down on the outside with a rag
dip in coal oil to cut the grime and soot off and then wash them with water and
vinegar in it dryed them and shined them with newspapers. Mama said it was a
work of art. So clean and clear they were.
And so she said John you have found your calling you were
born to be a window cleaner.
Thus was born the St. Louis House and Window Cleaners.
...He got so many Jobs word of mouth he had to hire a crew. And
so he hired green horns from other countries. Had a Swede and couple Germans Pa
Pa spoke fluent German. His brother Charlie owned the Sutter Shade Co. and he
threw Pa Pa a lot of work and Vice Versa.
...His favorite past time was drinking and his favorite sport
was drinking and his hobby was drinking get the Picture. He was a Drunk.
He hardly ever came home only long enough to get mama
pregnant he had a room in a hotel down town. And it was his office too.
If mama needed money she went to his banker the Barender
where he spent a lot of time and money and she would get fifty dollars and tell
him put it on Johns Tab. Tell him I was here and if he ever gets in our neighborhood
to stop in Wed like to see him....
This article begins, “John Augustus Sutter, who, for a while,
was one of the richest men in the world, was not born to wealth.” And continues
with the saga of how John Sutter discovered gold in California and died in
Washington, D.C., with nothing but his reputation.
In the fictionalized account of JFK's assassination, one of Stephen King's characters says, "Life turns on a dime. Sometimes towards us, but
more often it spins away, flirting and flashing as it goes: so long,
honey, it was good while it lasted, wasn’t it?" Not many people embrace the kind of change described in that line. Some people avoid change at any cost. I live somewhere in between the two, ordinarily waiting for change to come to me, which happens more often than not. This time I chose change on my own. One week later, I have no regrets.
I have the dime in hand and have taken a good long look at the other side of change. Not bad. The journey of life often goes uphill, requiring more than a dime's worth of effort and risk. At the top of the hill I don't expect to see anything except a new view, another hill, maybe a ravine to cross or a steep cliff, and many more hills to climb. The last hill was good while it lasted. And the view from the top? It's worth a million!
