November 2008 Archives

Charles

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Well, it's Thanksgiving. As every red-blooded American ought, I salute the bounty of the harvest and take fork in hand. Of course, the bounty is from someone else's harvest: I'm a supermarket guy, myself.

This year's art is from the Wells Fargo Messenger, the Company's internal news magazine from the 'teens. It shows all the best of home, family and food, with old-fashioned gender delineation — we mean no harm. But if it's harm you want, the Messenger has just the art for you!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Casey

I awoke this morning in beautiful Borrego Springs  to my normal routine of walking the boys, having breakfast, and preparing for the days videoing and site-seeing. First I consult my notebook to see which cities and sites are on the agenda for the day. Then I consult Ormsby via his book, The Butterfield Overland Mail Route.

Notebook, check. Ormsby...uh oh...I couldn't find Ormsby! I searched in all the usual spots but with only 24 feet of space there aren't that many spots to look in. No luck. Ormsby was nowhere to be found.

So, I thought back to the last time I had seen the book, Box Canyon. While filming at Box Canyon I laid the book on top of the site marker. Oh, man! Without Ormsby I had no guide. I wouldn't know what had happened on that first historic journey.

I had to make a decision, continue without him or go back. No brainer. I had to go back and retrieve Ormsby.

I feared that I wouldn't find the book because the wind had been blowing so hard the past 24 hours. I just knew the book had blown off the marker, and I would have to search the vast canyon.

The trip back to Box Canyon took nearly an hour. As I hiked to the marker, I strained my eyes in anticipation of seeing the book atop the marker undisturbed. It wasn't there.

But, as I approached the marker I discovered to my joy and amazement that the book was indeed there — it had been placed sacrificially below the marker. Not only that, but some kind soul (Ormsby's perhaps) had placed stones on top of it to keep it from blowing away!

Ormsby, I think, must be watching over my journey.

Casey

Well, it was a long ride last night from Phoenix to Yuma, but I was happy to be back on the road. We reached Yuma late in the evening and after consulting the Woodall's Campground Directory  found a place to park for the night.

I awoke this morning at the Riverfront RV Park  in Yuma, Arizona. Turns out I was in a prime spot. The park is located right on the Colorado River. So not only was it a beautiful spot to take the boys for a walk, but it also provided a great location for filming. Near this spot was once a ferry that would have provided safe passage over the river for the stagecoach. So the videoing continues!

As I was preparing to leave, the owner of the park came over to share some information. She had noticed the RV (how could you not) and wanted to tell me about some ruins she was sure had once been a stop on the Butterfield Route. It's always great to talk to folks about the Butterfield Route, and it's nice to not have to do the talking from time to time. And let's face it, much of the information I've gained during this trip has been through all the great people I've met along the way.

When it's a random meeting like this it is particularly exciting...

Charles

Guided by History is pleased to offer this guest post by Frances Dinkelspiel. Frances is a journalist and the author of new book — released today! — called Towers of Gold: How One Jewish Immigrant Named Isaias Hellman Created California. It tells the story of Frances' great-great grandfather, one of the premier financiers of the Pacific Coast, and the president of Wells Fargo Bank from 1905 to 1920. (CR)

Even though I am a fifth-generation Californian, and my great-great grandfather, my great-grandfather and a close cousin were all presidents of Wells Fargo Bank, I grew up not really understanding my family's connection with the bank.

It wasn't until I was a teenager that I figured out the relationship was something special. I had gone down to the Old Poodle Dog  restaurant in San Francisco to have a celebratory birthday lunch with my father, who gave me a checking account as a birthday present. After we finished eating, we walked into the Montgomery Street office of Wells Fargo, a massive room decorated with marble wainscoting and crystal chandeliers. My father took me over to an elderly banker, who handed me a card of thick white cardstock with my name on it.

"Don't lose it," the banker said. "It's identification for your checking account."

The first time I whipped out the card I was amazed at the reaction I received. I was only 13 and could barely see over the counter, yet the teller treated me with exaggerated courtesy. She didn't ask to see a picture ID, but just handed me my money.

That was my first clue that my family held special status at the bank.

Casey

After not sleeping especially well, worrying about making it to the grand opening event in Yuma  today, I awoke early. First on the agenda was coffee. Next I put in a call to Bill over at Premier Transmissions  for an update on the RV.

What I was hoping to hear was that the RV was fixed and ready to go so we could make our event. The folks in Yuma were really excited about adding the RV and the story of our journey to their event and had lined up press to cover it. They were all expecting the RV and me to be there along with the stagecoach to celebrate the grand opening.

On a personal note, I knew that Marge Rice had really been instrumental in setting this up, and I really didn't want to let her down. Marge is "the bomb"  and has been a great partner helping with all things marketing for this great adventure. I had no control over the RV's mechanical problems, obviously. But, not making the event would have been the first failure of the journey. And because I had become so personally staked out of necessity in its fortunes, its failure was my failure.

There is no way I could pull this trip off with all the long hours of research and planning and finally all the hours put in on the road up to this point unless I had embraced it completely and utterly. And I have. This has become a labor of love and to use another tired cliché, my baby. And not to be able to share my "baby" with all those folks in Yuma was terribly disappointing.

Luckily, Ormsby never had Transmissions trouble. The biggest delays his historic trip suffered were at the hands of unruly and uncooperative wild mules. And here I was with all my modern technology delayed and behind schedule. But I held out hope.

Unfortunately the call to Bill did not go as I had hoped. Despite all the hard work and extra hours his men put into fixing the old clunker (and they stayed late last night trying to fix it), an unexpected problem delayed the works completion. He tried to explain what the problem was, but he may has well been speaking Latin. As I stated before, mechanics is not my thing and all I heard was, "Blah blah blah Transmissions blah blah case blah blah blah I'll have it done by 2:00pm."

Well 2:00pm was too late. Now, I had the unfortunate task of calling Marge and Teresa Mosley of the new Yuma store and delivering the bad news. They were both disappointed but very understanding and for that I was grateful.

Soon Bill and the team at Premier Transmissions completed their work. I have to tell you, mechanics sometimes get a bad rap but Premier Transmissions is first rate. Bill kept me up to speed on what was going on, and, understanding and appreciating the nature of my journey, worked really hard to get us back on the road as soon as possible. Before we found them our options had been bad and worse. But Bill saw to it that the work was done quickly at a very reasonable price, always with my safety and the success of the rest of the trip in mind.

I can't thank him enough, but I can say that if you are in Phoenix and need some work done, you can't make a better choice than Premier Transmissions.

With the RV fixed and the mail safe and secure, I was on my way again. Destination, Yuma, Arizona!

Casey

Although I had to be up early, it was nice that Eddie let me sleep as long as I could. Seems he knew the RV was in the shop and decided not to even check on it this morning.

We had a bit of a drive on our hands to meet up with Daryl Hatch at the Butterfield Trail near Gila Bend . Daryl is a driver for our Stagecoach Appearance Program and owns lots of horses and wagons. Turns out he's also a really nice guy and yet another "real" cowboy (see Day 7 of trip journal) I've had the pleasure of meeting on this trip.

We arrived a bit late — Daryl was waiting patiently with his horses out and spring wagon ready to go. It was a very warm and dry day out in the Arizona desert, but I was looking forward to the ride. Just before we were set up to go, I received a call from the RV rental company. They informed me they had located a place in Phoenix that would fix the transmission and that it would be done possibly by the end of the day.

They gave me the number of Premier Transmissions  and told me to speak to Bill. Well, turns out Bill is not only a first-rate mechanic but also a real pro and a great guy. He assured me he would do everything he could to have the RV up and running as soon as possible. I felt much better after talking to him and looked forward to making the event in Yuma the next day.

Feeling as though we were back on track, I loaded up the boys in the spring wagon and we headed to the trail. While I've had the opportunity to ride on the parts of the actual Butterfield Trail, this was the first time I was doing it in an actual horse-drawn wagon! The ride was very bumpy as you can imagine. Unlike the Concord coaches, which have a suspension system of leather thoroughbraces  that create a rocking motion, this wagon had next to no suspension system and created a jerking motion.

While Charlie quickly lay down, I was a little worried about Eddie. He likes to be where the action is and doesn't sit still. So I held on tight.

Melissa

We have a Diebold safe here in the Minneapolis Wells Fargo History Museum, that consistently draws the attention of young and old alike. Our fourth graders are especially excited to try to crack the safe for all of the gold and money they envision stashed away inside!

The Diebold Safe and Lock Company  was founded in 1859 by a man named Charles Diebold  in Cincinnati Ohio. Wells Fargo & Co. made use of these paragons of safety and security in their agencies throughout the U.S. In 1875 Diebold created the world's largest bank vault for Wells Fargo Financial in San Francisco, and later, in 1947, Diebold entered the drive-up banking and electrical alarm systems businesses through its purchase of O. B. McClintock of Minneapolis .

Now all of this is interesting information, but what made me feel I had to bring it up? While double-checking my voter registration and voting location (which is very easy to do here ), I was reading about the machines that tally up the votes or "mechanical ballot counters," and can you guess what brand is used right here in Minnesota?

Why, Diebold, of course! The Diebold Accuvote  is one of the two ballot counters used most often in this state.

I could go on to tell you other states in which the Accuvote is used – however, I instead encourage you to go to your Secretary of State's website, read up on voting requirements, and make sure you are registered. Then, while you're at it, check out what kind of ballot counters or other tallying devices are utilized in your voting location.

This is an historic election — make sure you're a part of it.