mystery of the secret gold mine - chapter 1

Mystery of the Secret Gold Mine 1

Sean McClure © 2012

Chapter 1

Dark clouds rolled in from the west, hovering over the house

on the river. It was an unusual summer storm for the Northern

California town of Redding, but a refreshing break from the

earlier 105 degree late summer August afternoon.

All three kids made it into the house from the black bottom

swimming pool just as the wind pressed its way up against the

dual paned windows that overlooked the back yard, pool and

the Sacramento River.

Giant sycamore trees reached high into the sky as if to touch

the bottom of the growing cumulonimbus clouds expanding

like water balloons the kids filled earlier in the day. Long

branches on the majestic trees wrestled with each other,

protesting the wind, as if made to dance at a High School

formal.

Outside on the overhanging porch, a thermometer read 86

degrees with the barometer increasing, indicating moisture in

the air. Grandma Lynn waited to close the door behind the

kids, but hesitated while Shasta, the life guard and black

Labrador ushered in at the back of the line. A gust of wind

found its way into the house before Grandma shut the door to

any additional unwanted intruders.

Looking South out of the windows in the rear of the house, a

bright bolt of lightning struck just across from the river, only

several hundred yards away from the house, followed by an

explosive boom that rushed against the bay windows and

pounded each pane like robber searching for treasure. The oak



floor of the wood paneled house felt the disruption outside

and shuttered under the feet of the wet, towel wrapped

swimmers.

All three kids winced to block the flash of light and jumped

with fright, including the oldest, Tyler who recently

celebrated his fifteenth birthday only a month ago. Seconds

later another lightning bolt lit up the sky and simultaneously

cut the electricity in the house, cutting power to the TV in the

family room.

Fierce lightning pierced a hole in the bottom of the water

balloon cloud, opening a torrent of rain the size of quarters,

smacking the porch as if snapping fingers to a rock band beat.

Evidence of swimmers waves in the pool were replaced with

water kamikaze dive bombers ending their short life that

began moments ago only five hundred feet above.

Pappy rose up from his chair in the family room, unaffected

by the sudden storm outside, and called out to the kids, “Who

wants to hear a story about the gold mines of Redding?”

The kids loved their Pappy’s stories and the way he came up

with a story on the fly and acted it out. They were on the edge

of their seats and never wanted the stories to end. Shasta was

equally excited to be part of the story, or maybe it was just

that she could sit between three kids who would pet her

during the entire story. The ten year old dog followed behind

pappy into the living room on the other side of the house.

“I do.” Exclaimed Ben, the youngest of the three kids and four

years younger than Tyler.



Alison, was almost dry and took her towel with her so she

could dry up any drops of water she left behind on the

hardwood floor. “Me too.” Said the thirteen-year old without

hesitation.

Tyler was excited about the story, but his teenage status

would not allow him to act excited or interested in the same

way he was when he was his youngest brother’s age. He

followed Ben into the tiled living room where each found a

seat on the floor facing Pappy who sat in the leather chair next

to the empty and unlit fireplace.

More lightning found its way in through the windows and

illuminated the house, inside and out. Nighttime would not

come for another four hours, but the thick clouds blocked the

scorching sun, leaving the impression of late evening.

Grandma lit some candles to add ambient light into the room.

Pappy settled into his chair as Grandma took a seat on the

opposite facing couch. Light flickered from the wicks of

sweet smelling candles, licking the air and fluttering across

the walls and Pappy’s face, as if invisible shadows walked

throughout the room. Each kid used their own towel for a

cushion against the hard floor, with Shasta laying sprawled in

front of the kids who were already transfixed on Pappy.

Pappy’s gray eyebrows rose above his widening eyes, as he

leaned forward as if telling a secret that nobody else should

hear. His shifting body caused the leather beneath him to

moan. Placing his elbows on his knees he gestured with his

hands to open the scene of the story, and began in a deep

whispery voice.



“This story is real. It was passed down from my grandfather to

my father, and I passed it down to your father. This land by

the river we own, along with the tens of thousands of acres

throughout Redding including where the barn and the hilltop

are. This story is about how we got that land.

“It’s a story of old miners, lots of bright shiny gold, dark

caverns and real live ghosts. Bruuhha haaa haaa haaa.” Pappy

added for emphasis with his hands raised high in the air as if

he were going to sweep down and snatch up the kids. Smiles

covered each of their faces and the two younger ones recoiled

a bit at the gesture.

“It all started in 1852 when the gold rush became a way of

living for the young and old alike. Your great, great, great

grandfather had already built a house, this house, as a matter

of fact. It has since been re-built several times, but this is

where the first gold nugget was found.”

“How big was it?” Asked teenage Tyler, a bit more

enthusiastically than he had intended.

“It was this big.” Pappy made a circle with his hand the size

of a quarter. “He found it right down there at the river bank.”

Pappy extended his right arm and pointed out the back

window beyond the formal dining room to the river less than a

hundred yards away.

“Redding was rich with gold, but our great ancestor knew that

gold was limited along the river bank. He was a geologist and

land surveyor and he knew where to look for gold.”



Ben held up his hand and interrupted, “What’s a geeligist and

sir-bayer?” he asked, struggling with the unfamiliar words.

Pappy chuckled and explained. “A geologist is someone who

looks at rocks and dirt and takes samples to know what is

deep in the ground. A surveyor makes maps. As you can

guess, these are two very important skills to have if you want

to dig for gold.”

Pappy paused a moment to settle the mood and then

continued. “His name was Jack, we’ll call him Grandpa Jack.

He knew he could find gold here. Lots of gold. So he and his

sons started to dig in the areas he thought there would be gold,

and guess what?” The kids hung on every word, so Pappy

continued, “He found gold, lots of it. But there was only so

much he and his family could do on their own, so they started

to employ miners to dig deep into the ground. They had found

enough gold already that they could buy dynamite and tools

for going deeper into the earth and finding gold where nobody

else wanted to look. As they mined more gold they bought the

land over the areas they were mining so that no other

prospectors could dig where they were. At one point they had

thousands of men digging hundreds of tunnels all over

Redding. Most of these men would live, but some of them

would die.”

Another lightning bolt split the air, illuminating the sky and

finding its way in through the curtain-less windows, dancing

on Pappy’s grey beard and stately glasses. Wind continued

pressing on the windows, looking for a way in but finding

none. Shasta, sitting between the kids and Pappy, lifted her

head, ears perked as if to hear an un audible noise beyond the



human hearing spectrum. She decided the noise was not worth

pursuing and rested her head again on her two front paws.

Tyler, turned his attention from outside and asked, “But didn’t

the miners steal gold from grandpa Jack? I mean they were

down there mining it, they could easily take some for

themselves and become rich.”

“There were many thief’s among the miners. Many who put

gold nuggets in their mouth or try to hide it in their boots. But

grandpa Jack knew all the tricks of these miners and he would

fire them immediately and make sure they could not get work

at any of the other mines in Shasta County. Grandpa Jack paid

a good wage to get the best miners. They made more money

working for grandpa Jack than they would have anywhere

else, including their own prospecting. Although many left to

chase their own riches, they would many times come back to

work so they could earn a living. The miners respected

Grandpa Jack. They knew he was a tough man, not to be

double crossed, but he respected his workers back and they

remained honest during their employ with him.”

Rain thumped the roof of the large river house as if thousands

of little men repelled from the bottom of the clouds to the top

of the house, then tumbling to the edge of the roof and falling

to the ground.

Alison saw a hole in the story and asked, “How did Grandpa

Jack check thousands of men every day after work? That

would take days just to make sure nobody stole the gold.”



“Grandpa Jack hired supervisors and managers, making each

responsible for each set of miners. Grandpa Jack had an idea

of how much gold he should be receiving each day and if he

did not receive that much, people would be fired from their

job.”

Another rumble, this time from a far distance, but loud and

strong enough to cause everyone to peer out the window as if

the rumble was a bulldozer waiting outside the front of the

house for its order to destroy.

“By the time Grandpa Jack finished mining for gold, he was a

multi-millionaire, and he had purchased thousands of acres of

land to protect his tunnels from other mines.”

“But why haven’t we heard about grandpa Jack when we go

to Turtle Bay and learn about Redding history?” asked Tyler.

“Grandpa Jack was a very powerful man, and a very good

friend with the man whom Redding was named after,

Benjamin Redding.”

“Hey, that’s my name.” Proclaimed Ben who was excited that

Pappy would name a character after him.

“Yes, you two share the same name.” Pappy acknowledged.

“Benjamin Redding controlled the newspapers and was a

politician here. As with any politician and businessman, they

like money, and since grandpa Jack had a lot of it, he paid Mr.

Redding a lot of money to keep his name out of the papers

and to keep land purchases hushed. When Mr. Redding died

in 1882 he took a lot of grandpa Jack’s secrets with him. The

only thing we know for sure is that Grandpa Jack hired men to



dig mines and we only know this because of stories that were

told by miners, but nothing was really official. We know that

Grandpa Jack owned a lot of land because we have the deed to

most of it. Throughout each generation, some land is sold so

we do not have as much now as we used to, but it was all that

gold that bought this land. And you all have been to the old

Redding Saloon and Hotel by the fish hatchery. That is now a

historical monument and is protected by the State, but grandpa

Jack built that hotel for travelers along the Sacramento river.”

“What happened to all of the mines?” Alison asked.

“Who knows. There are stories of people who have tried to

locate the mines and while some say they have, it turns out

that it can’t be because the stories from the miners talk about

miles and miles of tunnels, and the mines people find on

grandpa Jack’s property don’t go very far before they dead

end. As a matter of fact, there is a old mine shaft on the

Redding airport property to the east of the runways. That

property belonged to grandpa Jack, but was sold by my father

in 1942.”

“Pappy, you said there were ghosts. What about the ghosts?”

Ben asked with trepid excitement.

“The Ghost of miner Joe.” Pappy began.

“Is the ghost real too?” Ben added.

As if on queue, a flash, then another, followed by two

simultaneous roars permeated the house, interrupting the

story, while the wind had a voice of its own. Wind is invisible

except when it carries with it rain or leaves or dirt. Rain did



not fall sideways either, but this storm found unity in the wind

and water drops, as together the rain made the wind visible

and the wind carried the rain to a destination other than

straight down.

“Legend has it that Joe was one of the first miners Grandpa

Jack hired. Joe was a quiet man, kept to himself and was a

good hard worker.

“After a year of working with grandpa, miner Joe was setting

dynamite to carve out a tunnel. Another miner who did not

like Joe very well caught Joe alone in this tunnel. A fight

broke out between the two men. They say it was because Joe

caught this other miner stealing gold, dynamite and supplies.

Instead of turning a blind eye, Joe was going to tell the

supervisor at the end of that night’s shift. Others heard the

commotion and broke up the fight, but not before on man fell

back against the ignitor box for the dynamite. The delay was 8

seconds before the dynamite erupted. One miner screamed out

‘fire in the hole!’ causing the group of men to scatter, but the

original miner pushed Joe back into the tunnel, catching Joe

off guard and off balance. As the thief fled, Joe lost his

footing and fell backwards. By the time Joe could have found

himself back on his feet, the dynamite responded to the

request of the ignitor box, and BOOM!” Pappy screamed,

motioning with his hands high above his head, and standing to

his feet. His emphasis was enhanced by the roar and rumble of

the excited storm outside.

Grandma jumped along with kids, and they shared a chuckle

before Pappy sat down and continued the tale in a hushed

voice.



“Miner Joe never made it out alive. But he lingers in the mine

searching for justice. Miners who worked with Grandpa Jack

over the years said they heard voices and felt a breeze pass by

them, when there was no air flow in the tunnels.”

Shadows in the room danced as the tips of each candle

resisted a gentle breeze from the unknown, causing light to

flicker throughout the room.

Shasta, took notice of the unusual occurrence and spoke

through a low throaty growl, warning the invisible imposter to

leave. She was satisfied with her warning and lowered her

head, but her ears remained attentive, and her eyes focused on

the window to the front yard.

Pappy finished with “The last man out of the tunnel on the

last day that grandpa Jack had his gold mines open, displayed

a white face, despite the dirt and soot from the tunnels, and his

eyes spoke of fear. The words that were spoken from the

man’s mouth were: ‘He’s not dead, he’s still down there.’”

mystery of the secret gold mine - chapter 1

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