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!

Posted by Charles at 01:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
Found in Agriculture, Animals, At Home, Barbecue, Events, Get Involved, Holidays, Misc, Participate, Prepare, Remember, Thanksgiving, Wells Fargo Bank, Women's History

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.

Since I was already there, I decided to re-shoot some of the Box Canyon video (hence the "costume" change you may notice during the Box Canyon footage). Then it was off to the Oak Grove Station  in route to Los Angeles.

Oak Grove, located between Borrego Springs  and Temecula , is an interesting site. The name, as Ormsby states, comes from the large oaks surrounding the area. One oak just in front of the building must be over 200 years old based on its size. How amazing to think that this oak may have been there providing shade for Ormsby as it is to me today, 150 years later?

The building itself is a wood structure — the first one not made of adobe I've seen since I left Arkansas. And it is the only station still standing on the entire route. As I peered through the windows, it occurred to me that it must have been used as a museum of sorts at some point. The rooms were decorated and staged with furniture from the period, and in one of the rooms were these strange looking mannequins dressed in period attire.

After a quick exploration of the old station, I was off to Los Angeles for an overnight stay at Juan's house. Juan, you may remember, is the curator of the Wells Fargo History Museum there and my partner on this leg of the journey. As L.A. is his home, he was particularly glad to arrive and looking forward to a night in his own bed.

I still had 4 days to go before I was able to sleep in my own bed again. But, at least I had my old friend Ormsby with me again.

The Mail and the book are safe and sound and just four days from San Francisco!

Posted by Casey at 10:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)
Found in Artifacts, At Work, Environment, Experts, First-hand Accounts, Get Involved, Misc, Museums, On the Road, Overland Mail Co. 150th, Participate, Perspective, Prepare, Remember, Ride sharing, Transportation, Travel, Wells Fargo Bank

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...

I thanked her for the tip and headed over the Colorado River crossing for the first time in 25 days back into California on my way to Warner Springs. Reaching California was probably not as exciting for me as it was for Mr. Ormsby. After all, he had never been and was probably anxious to arrive after such a rough and weary trip. I, on the other hand, while feeling somewhat weary, was none-the-less sad to see the trip coming to an end. I could keep going and going and going.

I followed the directions given by the RV park owner and headed to see her ruins. She was right. There were definitely some adobe ruins where she said they would be in the little town of Winterhaven. However, I'm not sure they are Butterfield related. Ormsby doesn't mention one in this spot and it seems much too close to Yuma. After all, the spots were usually separated by 12 miles or more and this was only a couple of miles from where the Yuma spot would be.

I got out to look and they were very cool. Most of the walls were crumbled like so many of the other existing spots. So you never know — this could very well have been a stage stop.

From Winterhaven the journey took me through some very cool sand dunes several hours outside of San Diego. They are amazing, towering high above the desert like a scene from The Mummy . Looking out at the sand and the ATVs with their shadow dust clouds, I understood why the Butterfield Route at this point dipped for a time into Mexico. The terrain would just have been too much for the strongest horses and most skilled driver.

In a few miles the landscape made another dramatic shift: I had finally reached the Anza-Borrego Desert. With the mountains in the distance and the rock-strewn desert alive with all sorts of brush and the ever-present Ocotillo , the desert canvas was full of textures and color.

Soon I was at the Vallecito Station . Vallecito was built originally for the San Antonio to San Diego Mail Line  and was then used for the Butterfield. There is a building here, but it is a reconstruction done in the 1930s. Still, it is one of the few places to see what an actual station looked like.

After Vallecito I made my way to Box Canyon. It was here that the stagecoach passed through the arduous mountains of San Diego County. It was also here that Ormsby described as one of the most beautiful stretches of the entire route.

As the day was waning — and because I had made plans to meet with Allan Peterson of the San Diego Wells Fargo History Museum and his wife Janet — I took a quick hike into the canyon. What an awesome site! It is very beautiful as Ormsby said. But the juxtaposition of standing on the Butterfield Road with the old Mormon Battalion  Road to my right and the modern highway to my left reminded me of the scene at the Guadalupe Mountains that had inspired me the week before.

From Box Canyon I was on my way to meet up with Allan and Janet for dinner. However, being so closed to the town of Julian , I couldn't resist stopping for a famous Julian Apple Pie. I love these pies!! The town of Julian is such a special place nestled in the mountains just outside of San Diego. Walking down the main street is like stepping back in time. The pies made at nearly a dozen shops with the apples grown in Julian are to die for.

However, when I turned the corner on to the main street, I suddenly realized that it was Sunday. The town was filled to the brim with tourists, many with the same goal as I. As I drove down the street, I saw the lines at the pie shops — many stretching around buildings.

With not much time to spare, I remembered that there was a great little shop on one of the side streets and decided to give it a shot. The shop is called Candied Apple Pastry Company . Unfortunately, like most of the shops this late on a Sunday, they were out of apple pie. In fact, they were out of all pies! But, the nice lady behind the counter told me that the lavender pear tart was really good, so I decided to go with that.

Boy, was she right! It was amazing.

After loading up with tarts and a few other goodies, I headed to Borrego Springs to have dinner. We decided on The Red Octotillo at the Palms Hotel . The groovy 1960s architecture is really something to see. The food was great and the conversation was even better. It was nice to catch up on what had been happening in San Diego since I'd left nearly a month ago. I was also happy to share my experiences so far with Allan and Janet.

It was getting late and the day had been a long one. So after the great meal and conversation I headed back to the RV for a good night's sleep.

Next stop, L.A.

Posted by Casey at 02:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Found in At Work, Environment, Experts, First-hand Accounts, Get Involved, Misc, Museums, Overland Mail Co. 150th, Participate, Perspective, Prepare, Remember, Ride sharing, San Diego, Stagecoach, Transportation, Travel, Wells Fargo Bank

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.

Twenty-seven years later, after a long career as a newspaper reporter, I found myself researching the life of Isaias Hellman, my great-great grandfather and the president of Wells Fargo Bank from 1905 to 1920. Hellman had come to California from Bavaria in 1859 and started the first successful bank in Los Angeles. He moved to San Francisco in 1890 to take over the Nevada Bank, which he merged with Wells Fargo in 1905. Hellman, one of the most influential Pacific Coast financers of the late 19th and early 20th century, served as president or director of 17 banks and controlled more than $100 million in capital at the height of his power in 1910.

Yet it was amazing how long — and how hard — it was to find out that information. Even though Hellman had been famous during his lifetime, he was almost forgotten by the time I started my research in 2000. No one had ever written a biography of him. I didn't even know the names of his brothers and sisters as I set out.

Finding out about Hellman's life entailed an immersion into some of the state's most distinguished archives — the California Historical Society, the Bancroft Library, the Huntington Library. I also was granted special permission to do research in the Wells Fargo Archives, one of the great repositories of western Americana. It is not generally open to the public, but since I was researching a Wells Fargo president — and a relative — I was provided access.

The archive was full of fascinating material. I found an old red and black ledger that was cracked and a bit musty. As I turned the pages, I realized this was the ledger Hellman had bought in 1865 when he opened his first dry goods store in Los Angeles. The town was more Mexican pueblo than American city then and only had a population of about 5,000 people. The names of the customers in Hellman's store were the names of some of the pioneers of Los Angeles — Pio Pico , the last governor of Mexican California; John Downey , the governor of California during the Civil War; and Harris Newmark , a merchant and early Jewish resident.

I stumbled upon another document — a list of the people who had bought shares of stock in the Nevada Bank in 1890. The Nevada Bank had been created in 1875 by four men dubbed "The Silver Kings"  for the massive fortunes they accumulated during the Comstock Lode . But by 1890, the Nevada Bank was almost broke, and Hellman agreed to buy it for $2.5 million. By that time, Hellman had such a sterling reputation that businessmen around the country clamored to invest in the business. "Millionaires stood in rows for hours waiting for their chance to subscribe to the stock and men feeble from age were among them," a Los Angeles newspaper reported.

Some of those investors included Levi Strauss, the founder of the jeans company; Meyer Lehman, the founder of Lehman Brothers and Hellman's brother-in-law; the Walter family, who had one of the largest rug and furniture stores in the state; and the Haas cousins, Kalman, Abe, and William, who had a string of dry good stores along the Pacific Coast (the Haas family are prominent philanthropists today and control Levi Strauss & Co ) and many more. What a thrill it was to examine this list.

There was so much more. Hellman played a vital role in restoring San Francisco's financial system after the 1906 earthquake and fire, and the archives had descriptions of opening the bank vault to see if any money had survived the conflagration. Wells Fargo also took the lead in selling Liberty Bonds  — really war bonds — during World War I, and it was fascinating to see how the entire country rallied during that crisis.

Eight years after I started my research, my book, Towers of Gold: How One Jewish Immigrant Named Isaias Hellman Created California, is about to be published. It tells the tale of the rise of California from a state dependent on the barter of hides and exchange of gold dust into one of the country's most dynamic economies.

Isaias Hellman — and Wells Fargo Bank — were crucial to that transformation.

Posted by Charles at 01:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Found in Branding, Earthquakes, Farmers, First-hand Accounts, Misc, Perspective, Photographs, Remember, San Francisco, Wells Fargo Bank, Women's History

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!

Posted by Casey at 03:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Found in At Work, Events, Experts, First-hand Accounts, Get Involved, Misc, Museums, On the Road, Overland Mail Co. 150th, Participate, Perspective, Prepare, Remember, Ride sharing, Stagecoach, Transportation, Travel, Wells Fargo Bank

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.

One of the things you hear about in all the travelers' accounts of the Overland Trail is the alkali  dust. Well, I can tell you all the complaints leveled against it are very well-founded — the dust gets everywhere. Most troublesome is the amount that you breathe and swallow. If I had been better prepared, I would have worn a handkerchief over my face. But, like so many who've come before, you just don't know until you get in it. And boy was I in it!

Despite the dust, the scenery was spectacular. The mountains, the living Giant Saguaro Cacti , the dead and decaying Giant Saguaro and the rocks all come together in a quintessential Southwestern landscape. John Wayne would have been right at home.

It was on the way back I had another one of those moments that I will never forget — it was right up there with the buffalo at Ft. Chadbourne. I was allowed (under Daryl's watchful eye) to drive the horse and buggy.

What a thrill! Daryl is an amazingly patient man, and for five or so miles, I handled those horses with skill and determination. Daryl was quick to praise my newly discovered talent, and I was proud as could be with the reins in hand. I learned very quickly that horses don't just go down the road by themselves. They actually have to be steered in the right direction otherwise they will just veer off-course. And the reins must be orchestrated in unison lest the horses — you got it — veer off-course.

Once I got the hang of it and was able to relax, I imagined myself heading to town for supplies as though I had been transported back in time. It was an amazing experience and I am forever grateful to Daryl for his trust, patience and conversation as we moseyed down the trail.

After my thrill ride, I said goodbye to Daryl and was off again to Connie's and Bill's. It was a bit strange to be in one place so long, but without the new RV coming, I had to wait for Bill the mechanic to work his magic.

Back at the house Juan and I said goodbye to Connie and Bill — they were headed to their cabin for the weekend. I'm really going to miss Connie and will never forget the time we shared on this adventure. She's been a great companion and a real trooper, despite the grueling schedule and exhausting work. But her time is up, and she deserves a relaxing weekend with her husband Bill.

A call from Bill at Premier Transmissions (so many Bills!) confirmed what I had feared. Despite their staying late in the evening, the work would not be completed until sometime tomorrow morning.

Now we were back to a time crunch. The event in Yuma was between noon and 2:00PM the next day. It was too late to call the folks in Yuma — I just hoped that the RV would be finished early in the morning so I could make a mad dash to the event. With the pressure building, I retreated to Connie's massage chair (I love this thing!) and tried to work out the knots that had been tightening since the fresh RV problems started.

Then, knowing the mail and the RV were in the capable hands of Bill and his crew, I headed to bed, hoping for some better news and fewer tense muscles tomorrow.

Posted by Casey at 10:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Found in Artifacts, At Home, At Work, Dogs, Environment, Events, First-hand Accounts, Get Involved, Misc, Museums, On the Road, Overland Mail Co. 150th, Participate, Perspective, Prepare, Remember, Ride sharing, Stagecoach, Transportation, Travel, Wells Fargo Bank

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.

Posted by Melissa at 05:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Found in Artifacts, Branding, Get Involved, Misc, Museums, Participate, Perspective, Remember, Wells Fargo Bank