Casey’s Place, 1962. James Kimball on porch. Kimball collection courtesy of undergroundgold.org

The Cat ~ This week I am continuing with memories from 1977. I had my 11th birthday shortly after we moved to the Kanaka Club. Jack and Lou Howard were running the bar at Casey’s Place. Their daughter Cindy is exactly one year younger than I am, and they invited us to celebrate both birthdays at the bar. All the kids in town were invited (about a dozen). Cindy got a real dirt bike (motorcycle)! Jack had two daughters (no sons) and Cindy was his tomboy. It must have been the smallest dirt bike on the market because she was tiny, and it was just her size. My only present that I remember was a pink plastic toy sewing machine from Grandma Bell. I was excited because it could really sew.

After the birthday party, Mom helped me set up the sewing machine. She had a Raggedy Anne doll pattern that we set to work on. We had enough pink fabric for the skin but lacked anything with stripes for the lower legs. With Mom’s permission I cut up a brown and white striped shirt that belonged to my brother Steven. We didn’t think he would even notice, but he burst into tears when he saw it. I felt bad, but it was too late! Once the fabric was cut, Mom tried to help me use the toy machine. After less than ten minutes of struggling with it, she got out her sewing machine. I had been sewing by hand for several years and had the basics down. I made the doll on Mom’s sewing machine and never did use the toy one. Once the doll’s body and clothes were finished, on our next “town trip” we went to Ben Franklin Crafts where I got a skein of bright orange yarn for her hair. I gave her a thick mop of orange hair and my doll was complete!

Shortly after that, I woke up one morning itchy all over. My eyes were tiny slits in my swollen red face. Mom took me to a doctor in Grass Valley who prescribed calamine lotion and said that it was an allergic reaction to something in the environment. It took a while, but we narrowed it down to the Raggedy Anne doll that I had recently started sleeping with (instant karma for cutting up Steven’s shirt?). The orange yarn hair was prime suspect. I glumly pulled out each strand of hair after the tedious task of untying each knot with the help of a large needle. I had the doll for many years, but never found the motivation to put new hair on her. Eventually, on a cleaning spree, I threw the bald Raggedy Anne in the trash pit at the Golden Bear Mine (the caved-in Golden Bear Mine shaft was used as a trash pit when the road was closed by snow, and we couldn’t get to the dump). I kept her green calico dress and white bloomers for my other dolls.

Another memory from that time is walking to school in the morning past Casey’s Place and seeing the front window busted out. There was bloody broken glass strewn all over the street. We gingerly stepped around it to get past, then hurried on our way! That happened more than once.

About a year ago, I introduced myself to musician Paul Emery of Nevada City. When he learned that I am from Alleghany he had a story to share. He told me that he got a gig at Casey’s Place in the 1970s and a group of bikers from out of town showed up. They started harassing the women and generally pissing everyone off. The bartender made a phone call, and the next thing that happened was several older bikers, who lived in Alleghany, showed up. They took the out-of-town bikers outside and had a talk with them, then left. For the rest of the evening those young bikers were as polite as could be with: “yes sir, no sir, yes ma’am, no ma’am.”

Paul asked me if I knew the Cat. Yes, I remember the Cat. He was an old man who moved into the upstairs apartment across from the bar, previously occupied by Etta Casey. He always had a pile of free candy for any kids who came over. When Mom heard about this, she went over and vetted him. She must have decided that he was ok because she gave us permission to visit. Steven had the biggest sweet tooth of all, and spent the most time over there. I only went up once, found it boring and left. Paul told me that the Cat was an old biker from the 1930s! An original.

About the author: Rae Bell (aka Pauline) grew up in the Ruby Mine area. She currently resides in Alleghany proper and can be reached at raebell44@gmail.com or PO Box 919, Alleghany, CA 95910.