Southwest Sierra Then & Now - #14

The Alleghany Jail before the big fire of 1933. It consisted of two concrete cells with iron doors. Jerry Nickels speculated that the woman in the story was the last prisoner to be kept there overnight. He said that only one cell was usable. It was located kitty-corner to the Kanaka Club where my family lived in 1977. At that time only the concrete remained and it was half-buried. It was probably bull-dozed during the 1987 fire clean up. Photo courtesy of undergroundgold.org

Sunday June 18, 2023 ~ Today I am going to tell the story of the first time that I came to Alleghany. Both of my parents grew up in what was once a rural area of Southern California. Bell Ranch (later renamed “Movie Ranch”) in Chatsworth is still rural because of the terrain. But Grandpa Bell had lost the property by the time my parents got together. Mom grew up in nearby Simi Valley. They used dad’s VA loan to purchase a house in a brand-new suburb in Newbury Park when I was five. I have a memory of standing in the front yard with dad, shortly after we moved there, and I asked him how long we would live there. He said: “At least until you graduate from high school.” I couldn’t fathom that. After about three years of living there they decided that it was time to head north. It was 1974.

They rented a house on East Main Street in Grass Valley adjacent to the golf course. My older brother stayed behind with his biological mom and I missed him greatly. We had a tan Datsun pick-up truck with a camper shell and a “boot” that connected the cab with the camper (no back cab window). There was a mattress in the back where we kids rode. My parents liked to go exploring on the weekends. They were warned by some well-meaning locals not to go to Alleghany: “because you’ll get shot!”. So of course, dad had to check it out. On the day that we went, we drove a lot of dirt roads “exploring”. It must have been Foote’s Crossing Road that we came in on, arriving at dusk.

The first business that we saw was Casey’s Place. Dad parked and asked us what we wanted because of the “No Person Under 21” sign on the door. I said: “tic tacs” referring to the candy that was fairly new at the time (the plastic box was the real novelty). My brothers said that they wanted the same. We waited with mom while dad went in. He came back out with candy bars in hand and said: “They don’t have tic tacs”. Being the slightly spoiled brat that I was, I exclaimed with indignity: “I would hate to live here, they don’t even have tic tacs!” Less than a year later we were living in the Mott Cabin. The Hall Family moved into a cabin near the Golden Bear Bunkhouse at the same time (another story). It was a profound experience for all of us, that first summer in the woods. Things like tic tacs no longer mattered, and I felt a little embarrassed when I thought of that day later.

Many years later, in 1999 to be exact, I got involved with Underground Gold Miners Museum. Jerry Nickels (“as in nickels and dimes” as he used to say) volunteered as a docent. He had lived in Alleghany in the 1960s working as a miner at several of the mines here. He and I got the place spruced up and kept the doors open for a few summers before we switched the hours to “for special events and by appointment only” due to the dearth of visitors. (The museum is open weekends this summer thanks to directors Wayne Babros of Alleghany and Chris Smith of Graeagle).

It was from Jerry that I learned part of the reason for the 1974 warning “not to go to Alleghany”. On Labor Day weekend, in 1961, the Alleghany Mining Company (Gold Crown Mine next to the Sixteen to One) was having their annual shareholder’s meeting. A lot of people were in town for the meeting and many of them went to the Golden Eagle Hotel Bar for a drink after the meeting. A married man from out of town was dancing with another woman when, in a jealous rage, his wife pulled a pistol and shot him! Jerry Nickels sitting at the bar took a stray bullet. Jerry and the husband were taken by ambulance to the Miners Hospital in Nevada City. The ambulance driver was Mike DiGrio. Back then there was no patient attendant (and no room for one). Jerry, who was not seriously injured, rode shotgun and the husband was in back. That ambulance doubled as a hearse. I remember it; a white 1950s chevy station wagon kept in the County Yard. (I’m pretty sure that it is now parked at a house across from the gas station in N. San Juan painted orange with flames).

According to Jerry, the jail in Downieville did not have a female jail matron so the wife was locked in the Alleghany jail for the night. She was transferred to Stockton the next day. Unfortunately, the husband died several days later in the hospital and the woman hung herself before the case ever went to trial.

About the author: As a kid in 1975, Rae Bell (aka Pauline) moved with her family to the Ruby Mine area located between Alleghany and Downieville. She and her husband have lived in Alleghany proper since 1992. If you have news or suggestions to share, please send an email to: raebell44@gmail.com