The Call of the Wild

The only sounds to be heard during this early morning five mile trek through the San Bernardino National Forest were those of our snowshoes breaking the half inch icy crust which hid the newly fallen two and a half feet of fresh powder. The day was picture perfect, proven by the photographs in this blog, with the sun stretched out in the clear blue sky shimmering on a winter wonderland before us. This is not another tale of snow shoeing but one of enjoying the outdoors where no other human had tramped through in days. Enjoying nature, no matter the season, is an extremely important aspect to living. It is easy to sit in a chair watching television but when one ventures outdoors and sees nature at its finest that is what makes life worth living.

Ah, but I pontificate on the wonders of this earth and there is no need when one only needs to turn their head once in a while and view it for themselves.

 Of course, as with all our blogs this one is special and odd. Friday the 8^th of February we had no intention to going to our cabin in Big Bear but simply enjoy a long weekend at our other home until we heard the local and national news.

There seemed to be a large snow storm coming to the San Bernardino Mountains with expectations of six to eight inches of snow (they missed that call by over a foot) and a killer (his name will not be mentioned since that would only give him credit he does not deserve) who was on the loose in the vicinity of Big Bear.

Hmmm, a blinding snow storm and a murderer on the loose in our neck of the woods (literally). What other enticement did we need to make the hour drive up the mountains from our desert home?

By eight-thirty in the morning of the 8^th we were in the cabin planning on snowshoeing as soon as the weather allowed. It was snowing so hard that we could not keep up with the shoveling of the porch and stairs leading into the cabin. We allowed the dogs, all four of them, to run wild in the street since no vehicles were going up or down our street in this snow storm and they had a ball. But as the sun set with the temperature dipping to the low teens while the snow continued to fall it was time to call it and inside we went.

Saturday the 9^th we were up and out early to clamber over the snow drifts through the national forest. The only other sound besides the breaking of the icy crust of the snow were the regular and suddenly routine sounds of police helicopters above us sweeping for signs of the elusive cowardly killer of a lovely young couple from Irvine and a brave police officer from Riverside.

With this in mind our attention was drawn to fresh animal tracks in the snow near a large Western Juniper. There were little ones seeming to be running for their lives, rabbits probably by the looks of the tracks, instantly followed by larger ones, coyotes to be sure. There were scuffle marks by bushes, escape routes by the looks, and final chases. This is the cruel nature of things but it is nature. Animals need to live and living means finding food sources. May sound cruel but it is the way nature works and in some bizarre way it does. A single female rabbit can give birth to hundreds of little ones (some estimates as many as 800 during breeding season) where coyotes usually produce an average of six pups and only fifty or seventy percent ever see adulthood. So, there are a lot more rabbits to feed the coyote population. It was the way nature was meant to work.

Not some self-proclaimed human bent of destroying those far more valuable than him. As an ex-cop, J of J&L believes this low life killer is the worst of the worst. Cop or ex-cop the term ‘protect and serve’ are not simply decorations on the side of a police unit but a soul-based belief that police officers live by.

We, of course, would not recommend this activity or constant search for adventure to our readers. Indeed, our daughters and friends warned us against this and other intrepid adventures. But being who we tend to be, J&L happens to do such things as a way to explore, understand and to share. These stories need to be written. It is who we are.

And, being an ex-cop, J of J&L would never venture into these situations without the means to defend those who are with him on these adventures.

He packs heat.

Being a non-political blog we will not venture into the hot gun control topic but only state the following – an old cop saying: “I’d rather be tried by twelve than carried by six.”



Nothing will stop the continuing adventures of J and L. In the words of Herodotus, “It is said that as many days as there are in the whole journey, so many are the men and horses that stand along the road, each horse and man at the interval of a day’s journey; and these are stayed neither by snow nor rain nor heat nor darkness from accomplishing their appointed course with all speed.  Our journey is an adventure through life and no storm, nor darkness of the threat of man will keep us from our day’s journey. 

Treasures Crop Up in the Most Unlikely Places

Many years ago while strolling through a local swap meet with two of our four daughters, Katie and Kelly, I happened to stop in front of a blanket full of books. Being an avid reader, as all explorers tend to be, the compulsion to stop and pore over the materials was too hard to resist. I spoke to the kindly older gentlemen who was selling the books a bit about this and that while lifting one book and then another turning a page here or there. After a moment my eyes landed on Dodsworth by Sinclair Lewis and of course being a fan of this particular writer I nonchalantly hefted the work up into my hands and carefully opened the front cover. To my surprise, and later my delight, I saw a very strange and telling inscription from the author.

my dear commissioner, I do so hope that you will make a reasonable America  

Sam Dodsworth per secy Sinclair Lewis

I felt my hands start to tremble a bit when I realized that I was not only holding a rare autographed book by Sinclair Lewis but one with a special message to someone who seemed to be important enough for the writer to take the extra steps in penning the note personally.

Did I happen to mention it was a 1929 First Edition?

I closed the text and as calmly as I could asked the fellow selling the book how much he wanted for it. He took a glance at the old blue green cover and responded. “How about fifty cents?” I tossed the man two quarters and stumbled away with my treasure cushioned beneath my right arm.

As life goes on so does time and the book rested in my bookcase for over a dozen years before I started looking into the history of the book late in 2012. It took time but the research was well worth the effort.

It seems the book belonged to Frances Perkins who received the autographed copy from Sinclair Lewis. They were great friends according to the historical records and after contacting the Frances Perkins Center in Newcastle, Maine (within the Brick House Historic District) it turned out the research was dead on.

What makes this book so exciting, besides it was an autographed First Edition by Sinclair Lewis, is the fact it was given to one of the most influential yet under-rated political figures of the early 20^th century. At the time of the presentation of the novel in 1929, Ms. Perkins was the New York State Commissioner of Labor, having been appointed to that position by her friend and benefactor Franklin D. Roosevelt who was Governor of New York at the time. In 1933, Perkins was appointed by now President Franklin D. Roosevelt to the position of Secretary of Labor for the United States. Frances Perkins was one of the first women in the history of the United States who started breaking the proverbial ‘glass ceiling’ to become the first woman to serve in a presidential cabinet. She later played a key role in assisting in writing up the New Deal legislation and in fact was involved in all aspects of a brand new venture for the United States, the Social Security Act of 1935.

This woman did it all and never once, per all available reports, shirked from her belief system, her loyalty to President Roosevelt or to the country she served. After President Roosevelt’s death on April 12, 1945 she stayed on with government service being assigned to the United States Civil Service Commission by then new President Harry Truman. She stayed on at that post until the death of her husband in 1952, when she retired from public service.

Frances Perkins is an American icon and to own a book that she had held, read, and had been given to her by the famous writer Sinclair Lewis made the novel all that much more valuable.

It was a treasure and like all treasures we decided to get an approximate value for it and after making the usual inquires through rare book sellers and the like came up with an estimated value of approximately $1500.

Not a bad investment for fifty cents.

But like many treasures it is not about the currency value but the historical value and with that in mind J & L will be donating the book to the Frances Perkins Center in Maine within the next month. The curator and members of the Center are very pleased and honored to have this piece of history on display. It is a piece of Americana which belonged to a very special American, a woman who was destined for greatness and showed it through her actions.

We felt very honored to have owned it for these many years and though missed will know it will be enjoyed by countless generations who owe so much to Frances Perkins.

For more information concerning Frances Perkins:

info@FrancesPerkinsCenter.org

wikipedia.org/wiki/Frances_Perkins

The World's Most Interesting Man (Blog)