St. Patrick's Day

Today, we want to celebrate St. Patrick's Day - a holiday that's near and dear to our hearts, as we both have Irish heritage.

Welcome to Dublin, Ireland

St. Patrick's Day is a time to celebrate all things Irish, from traditional foods like corned beef and cabbage to festive decorations in shades of green and gold. But for us, it's also a time to reflect on the rich history and culture of Ireland - and to explore the country itself.

Laureen and John onboard and on the North Sea - exploring

One of the highlights of our travels in Ireland was visiting the ancient ruins of the Rock of Cashel - a sprawling complex of stone buildings perched on a hilltop in County Tipperary. As we wandered through the ruins, we were struck by the sheer scale of the structures and the intricacy of the carvings and designs that adorned them.

Laureen in front of an ancient metal gate

But it wasn't just the buildings themselves that captivated us - it was the stories behind them. From the legends of Irish kings and queens to the struggles of the Irish people under British rule, every stone at the Rock of Cashel seemed to hold a tale waiting to be told.

And of course, no discussion of Ireland would be complete without mentioning the country's literary heritage. From James Joyce to W.B. Yeats, Ireland has produced some of the greatest writers in the English language - and exploring their works is a journey in itself.

A great pub to sit and discuss the Literary Giants of Ireland

So as we celebrate St. Patrick's Day this year, we're reminded of the rich history and culture of Ireland - and of the incredible adventures we've had exploring the country. Whether you're Irish or not, we hope this holiday inspires you to learn more about the Emerald Isle and all it has to offer. 

John exploring one of the many ancient sites visited in Ireland

The Bradford House

 It was one of those lazy fall days when I found myself in the city of Placentia with not much to do.

Some days are just like that. Cruising down this avenue or that avenue, sort of randomly driving here and there. I had to be somewhere but as usual, I was hours early and had time to kill. So, there I was, randomly driving around.

Not like how millennials use the term ‘random.’

“It’s so like, random,” one millennial will say to another.

“What’s so random?” another millennial would respond.

“The sun, its so random how it rises every day and sets every evening.”

That may a bit of a stretch – perhaps but truly random things do happen daily, if not more often.

So, I’m cruising near Palm Circle in Placentia when I randomly spy a beautiful turn-of-the-century styled home. Not the Twenty-First Century, but the Twentieth Century.

“I must stop and take a gander,” I said to myself. 

In all transparency, I do sometimes talk to myself about this or that, but I never answer. That could be considered a bit off or even crazy.

“We will, we will,” I heard my inner voice responding to me.

Turns out that I had discovered The Bradford House in the City of Placentia, which is located about 75 miles southwest of Victorville, or 3,000 miles west of Shapleigh, Maine where the owner of this stunning home had been born on August 8th, 1860.

The Bradford House

Albert Sumner Bradford, otherwise known as the ‘Father of Placentia,’ grew up on a farm but due to some health issues including asthma, he missed a lot of school and at the age of twelve, he ran away from home.

He had an independent nature and wanted to prove to the world that even at that tender age he could make a success of himself.

Laureen and I had a hard enough time just getting our girls to make their beds each morning let alone having them prove to the world they would take it by storm.

“I successfully made my bed this morning,” Erica would state before leaving for school.

Laureen would only nod. “It’s a start.”

An interesting sidenote on Bradford. His father was William Bradford, a native of England, who was also a descendant of another William Bradford, the governor of the Plymouth Colony from 1621 until 1632. 

And Bradford’s mother came from a very patriotic and loyal Revolutionary family.

A lot of historical branches on that Bradford tree.

Anyway, Bradford ended up in Boston working in the agricultural field and learned how things grew. He learned about horticulture - no idea, hotbed culture - no idea, and vegetable gardening – that I know since I do it each year and end up feeding feral rabbits and squirrels for an entire growing season.

That is what those agricultural type folks, like Bradford, do successfully.

In 1887, Bradford left the east coast and headed west to truly seek his fame and fortune.

And he did, in the city of Santa Ana which at the time was in Los Angeles County. 

The rumor has it that the folks in Santa Ana and the surrounding towns did not like being in Los Angeles County and wanted to form their own county.

“If Los Angeles can be a county, why can’t we?” A man in a top hat yelled at a meeting of other like-minded people.

“Humph, humph,” was the reply from all gathered.

In 1889, he was part of a group of citizens who helped establish Orange County.

Most people at the time grew grapes or raised hogs in the area at the time.

Why Orange County then?

I suppose, when the locals thought about it, Hog County did not sound quite right.

“I reside in Hog County,” a rather oversized person may have stated.

“Yes, we can see that,” may have come the reply.

Could have been worse.

“I’sss lives in grap, no grain, no Grape County, I thinks,” a rather inebriated person may have stated.

“Yes, we can see that,” may have come the reply.

So, Orange County it was.

Soon, people moved into the area and started planting all sorts of citrus trees. It turned out that the orange trees they planted, over a million by 1890, gave the state of California its second gold rush.

Everyone loved oranges and with refrigerated railcars reaching nearly every section of the nation, the citrus industry blossomed.

Bradford knew this is where his family’s fortune would be made and purchased the Tesoro Ranch on Palm Avenue, in the Placentia District. As profits rose, he continued buying up more lands to grow his Valencia and navel oranges to sell at markets across the country.

With his fortunes growing, he built the beautiful home at Palm Circle in 1902.

Another view of the Bradford House

I was surprised that the house, which is now a museum decorated as it was when the Bradford family resided there in the early 1900’s was short on visitors.

Such a gorgeous abode once owned by the man who founded the city of Placentia should have a waiting line of looky-loos.

Wandering about the property, I noticed tours had to be arranged by appointment.

Since this was a random discovery on my part, this Bradford House, (random being used correctly), I knew there would be no tour for me this day.

But, as luck would have it, a young woman by the name of Nancy exited the house by a side door.

“Howdy,” I said. I always say ‘Howdy.’

She looked at me and then clasped her purse a bit more closely.

“I’m a travel writer and just love the history of this place,” I said, while raising my arms to show I was not carrying anything lethal.

The ice was broken.

“Usually you need to have a reservation for a tour,” Nancy said, “But it turns out that a group of Girl Scouts are coming in an hour to visit. Would you like to wait and go with them through the house?”

No, I thought. I really did not want to tour with a group of young giggling girls. 

So, Nancy took me on a private tour of the Bradford House. 

There are public tours from 2 to 4 pm the second Sunday of each month. 

The Bradford House is a two story, 15 room mansion that is like walking back into a different era. Large colored carpets lay over highly polished wood floors, staircases that seem to have been chiseled out of solid pieces of wood by a professional sculpturer, furnishings – many that had belonged to the Bradford family, were in each room giving the place a feeling of warmth.

Beautifully carved staircase

Nancy was a fount of knowledge.

“As beautiful as this house is, Albert’s family only thought of it as a farmhouse,” she said. “In fact, they had to leave their muddy shoes at the entrance after traipsing through the groves when they came in.”

No mud in the dining room!

I nodded while following this docent about the rooms.

“I tell school children that there are eight bedrooms but only one bath. They all say yuck, but at that time, this was very special in a person’s house.”

The only bathroom, a luxury

When I had arrived, I noticed small windows at ground level. “Is there a basement here?”

“Yes, and Albert had it made special, since he moved from the east, a basement was expected,” she replied. 

She did not offer any tour of the basement. I did not pry.

Turns out, Bradford’s wife played an important role in the Placentia Women’s Club, which is still active today.

The Bradford family was crucial to the growth of the city and surrounding communities with their generosity, forward-looking attitudes, and knowing how to be at the right spot at the right time.

The city of Placentia was incorporated in 1926.

After Albert’s death, the house reverted to his son who visited rarely. He had his own successful businesses in Los Angeles, and besides, did not seem to enjoy visiting the farm in Placentia.

“His son only stayed here on weekends. His main residence was in Los Angeles but much of the furniture you see was purchased by him and shipped from Italy. He liked to travel.”

If one considered the Bradford House as simply a farm house, then I would expect they had a lot of moola-boola to travel with.

“Honey, should we spend the weekend at the farmhouse or a stay at the Gritti Palace in Venice?”

“Una domanda stupida.”

Don’t need a translator for that reply.

With the personal tour over, I thanked Nancy for her assistance and vast knowledge of the grounds.

“We love visitors,” she stated.

And this Bradford House in Placentia should be visited to understand how even twelve-year-olds from Maine can think big and prove they can make dreams come true.

Albert S. Bradford certainly did.

And look at this wonderful desk he ended up with

For more information: https://thebradfordhouse.org/

Boron, a welcoming town

John R Beyer welcomes you to Boron

I was working on my second Street Taco, when Patricia, the owner of Lola’s Diner in Boron, came over to our table.

“How are the tacos?”

Laureen smiled, “Some of the best I’ve ever had.”

“I like the salsa,” I mentioned. “Not too spicy but with enough kick to let you know it is salsa.”

“Our own recipe,” Patricia replied.

We had been driving along Highway 58, after visiting the Rio Tinto open pit borate mine and decided it was time for a bite.

Just a small section of the Rio Tinto borate mine

Lunch and then some wandering around this small berg to see what it had to offer.

Turns out, Boron has a lot to offer, and the folks we spoke to say the town in Kern County, has some truly big plans.

Docent Debi, of the Twenty Mule Team Museum, in Boron, told us that the museum is getting a whole new make-over.

New carpet, new display cases, new this and new that. We thought it was a pretty good museum as is, with all sorts of things to interest any tourist. The entire history of Boron, including nearby mining operations, was there methodically laid out through the large building.

The town has something for everyone

“Everyone who volunteers here takes pride in this place and want each visitor to leave knowing the history of our town.”

There is no way a person could leave without understanding each development in Boron’s history. The museum is broken up into three separate, but equally informative sections. There’s one room which is the entry and gift shop, but with displays of the different ore specimens found in the area. The second room details the people and effort it took to conquer this part of the Mojave Desert and set up their homes and businesses there. And the last room explains the danger and benefits of such mining that surrounds the town of Boron. There are videos dedicated to the history of Boron, a working model of a Twenty Mule Team wagon, including moving mules and a driver snapping a whip. 

A model of a team at the local mine

A closeup painting of a pretty mule

And of course, there is information concerning some of the movies filmed there, such as Erin Brockovich (2000), Dragon Day (2013), and my favorite Apocalypse According to Doris (2011), just to name a few.

With Hollywood only a hundred and nineteen miles southwest of Boron, the town is a perfect backdrop for all sorts of movies.

“We’re getting a lot of tourists coming in now, and we know that in spring and summer this place will be seeing a lot more each and every day.”

As of now, the museum is still averaging fifty or more tourists per week. Not bad for a place that does not advertise itself, but that is about to change.

“We’re going to redo the signage near Highway 58, inviting travelers to the historic part of town,” said Jerry, who was busy building new shelving for the museum. “This town has a lot of draws, but it will have more once everything is in place.”

Jerry seems a determined man. As he explained how the museum’s exterior park, filled with all sorts of old mining equipment, picnic tables, walkways, and an actual outdoor stage, is also getting a face-lift.

“We want the town to come alive again,” he said. “We want people to feel welcome and enjoy their time here in Boron.”

Main St., Boron

Exiting the museum grounds, we noticed an old railway depot standing just to the west. It was in mint condition – as if it had been recently painted, just waiting for train passengers.

Turns out the depot, built in 1896 by the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway company, served rail customers in nearby Kramer, now Kramer Junction, until 1941 when it was moved to Boron as a freight depot.

“Makes you wonder how many people stood outside that depot waiting for their tickets to so many varied destinations,” Laureen mused.

“Two hundred and thirty-three thousand,” I replied, believing it was a good guess.

Laureen simply rolled her eyes.

Boron rose from the dusty desert landscape in 1913 when a water well was being drilled and Borate evaporites in the form of colemanite were discovered. This was the beginning of a mining boom. The claims were purchased by the Pacific Coast Borax Company and more mining and exploring for further valuable sites was begun. In 1925 commercial mining began in the area, and as the old saying goes, the rest is history.

Boron became a major dot on the map in this part of the Mojave Desert. 

In 1938, the federal government knew the community was growing with all the new mining operations and opened a post office there. 

“Ma, we got us a post office,” it is rumored that little Tommy squealed in delight.

“Yes, son – we are in the big leagues now,” his mother replied. “And soon, probably a Starbucks too.”

Today, the largest employer for Boron is the nearby Rio Tinto mining company. Of its eight hundred employees, many live in the nearby town. And five miles to the east, just across the San Bernardino County line is one of the world’s largest solar power production facilities, with some of their employees also residing in Boron.

“One of the largest, in the little old Mojave Desert,” a stranger once hmphed.

Yes, doubtful stranger, that is true. In fact, the Solar Energy Generating Systems (SEGS) is so big, that it is rumored that the plant can supply power to every human on Earth, twenty-four seven.

That's a lot of panels

“And if they do not treat us correctly, we will simply switch the power off and plunge the world into darkness,” one of the SEGS managers reportedly said, with an evil laugh and wringing of his hands.

No wait, that was Mr. Burns from an old Simpsons episode. My apologies to SEGS.

The solar plant covers over sixteen hundred acres and can supply power to nearly two-hundred and fifty thousand homes during peak outlay and displace nearly three-thousand eight hundred tons of pollution each year.

There are also over nine hundred thousand mirrors pointing sunward at the plant. That is a lot of mirrors, may not be enough for some Hollywood celebrities, but for the common person – that is a heck of a lot of mirrors.

But this column is not about solar energy collectors or big pits in the ground to mine borates. It is about a small but charming town by the name of Boron.

After visiting the train depot, we sauntered over to the Saxon Aerospace Museum, which was named after Colonel Vernon P. Saxon Jr., a former Vice-Commander at the Air Force Test Flight Center at Edwards Air Force Base. There we met up with Alison, who seemed to know everything we did not about this flight museum.

The museum has a place set for one's no longer with us

“The museum needs some work,” Alison said, as we signed the guest book at the entry. “It’s been closed for a couple of years, and it needs some dusting off, but we are making great progress toward that goal.”

To state the museum had a lot of artifacts, would be an understatement. The building is literally filled to the rafters with every sort of aeronautical thingy-bob one could only imagine.

The motto of the museum is simple, but to the point – ‘To collect, interpret, preserve, and display aeronautics and aerospace materials relevant to flight research performed over the skies of Boron and the surrounding Aerospace Valley.”

Just one of many aircraft on display

That is one large mission statement, but as Alison showed us around the museum, the statement became increasingly true.

Since the opening of the museum in 1997, the collection of exhibits has grown so much that a larger building could be in order. She explained that there are so many donations, the entire volunteer staff are currently busy trying to figure out who donated what and if they want to leave the item in the museum.

“We just don’t know,” she said. “A lot of these items are extremely valuable, and I just want to make sure the families want to keep sharing them with the general public.”

There are cockpit control panels, landing gear, plane engines, flight trainer simulator, parachutes, photographs depicting the entire advent of human flight, mannequins dressed up as pilots, mannequins dressed up as various military personnel, and mannequins dressed up as mannequins.

So much to see and according to Alison, the museum wants visitors to take their time and look at each display as long as they would like.

Sounds good, if that visitor had a few extra months to spare, since there is so much to experience.

Our favorite item, I’m speaking for Laureen and myself here, was the wooden ski sleds that Admiral Richard Byrd used during his famous exploration to the south pole.

Admiral Byrd's skis

We were staring at history – and it was cool.

So, a slight jog off Highway 58 had found us in the small but inviting town of Boron. 

As we drove east toward Kramer Junction, I looked over at my darling wife and said, “That was really a pleasant stop.”

“Yes, a lot more then I expected,” she replied. 

And that what traveling is all about – not to expect too much but then to be pleasantly surprised when you find so much more.

For more information: https://www.facebook.com/BoronChamber/