2009 - What A Year! 2010 - Bring It ON!

Looking back at 2009, I am amazed by the opportunities that came my way. If you had told me a year ago that I would pan for gold in the place my great-great-grandfather did, find a cousin named Gayle Christison (my maiden name), speak to 200 people at the Pikes Peak Regional History Symposium about my great-great-grandfather and Cash Creek (Cache Creek), and keep finding new developments in the cattle rustling story, I probably would have said, "Yeah, right."

These opportunities would not come without people. I am so grateful to each of you who read my blog and to you whose paths have crossed with mine on Twitter and Facebook. I appreciate librarians, archivists, and regular people who listen to my story and answer my questions, pointing me in the direction I need to go.

New Year's resolutions have never held much interest to me. Oh, I can set them and fail within two weeks, so I tend not to even come up with resolutions. But as I think about the opportunities that have surfaced in the past few years, I realize I do have some attributes I try to live out in genealogy and life. These are beneficial when opportunities arise and I hope to become better at each in the years to come.

In 2010, I resolve to:

Be curious and see where the next computer click, phone call, e-mail, turn in the road will take me.

Be courageous and follow up on what I find. Make the phone call, set the date, make the drive, meet new people.

Be faithful and stay on track. Write the book, do the research, enter the data.

Be true to myself. Write the way I write, research the way I research, and don't compare myself to others.

Be open to new opportunities, new people, new ideas.

Be courteous to others and respect their stories. Remember that the pioneers I research and write about have family today who may not know the whole story and who have their own family stories.

Some attributes are easier for me than others: curious is easy, courageous - not so much. But all of them are essential in what I love to do - research and writing. I would love to make a resolution that the book will be written in 2010, but I won't. The book will be done when the time is right.

Here is to the New Year - 2010 - Bring it ON!

(This post was written for the 87th edition of the Carnival of Genealogy, hosted by Jasia at Creative Gene.)

The Christison Musicians

(poster by fM)

Prospecting is in my Christison blood, but there is another talent that runs through the Christison family – musical ability. It seems that those who weren’t bitten by the gold bug honed their musical talent. And, in two cases, without music (and the U.S. Air Force) two marriages may never have happened.

Ernest Christison never seemed to care much about prospecting; he got into cattle ranching at an early age. But he could fiddle a tune! He played for dances and gatherings in Fairplay, Salida and Howard. Ernest’s granddaughter, Betty Regnier, remembers him playing “Devil’s Dream” on the fiddle when she was a little girl.

Ernest wasn’t the only one of Wilburn’s children to play an instrument. His younger brother, John Christison, was a professional musician—a piano player. According to one source, he joined the circus as a musician and married a trapeze artist! John is listed as a musician in the 1885 Colorado Census and was the leader of the Aspen City Orchestra in 1889. By the time of his death in 1890 at the age of 31, John was the leader of the Wheeler Opera House Orchestra.

(United States Air Force photograph)

Unites States Air Force Academy Band - Ken Christison right corner

The music talents of the next generation are unknown to me; however, the Christison musical talent came through loud and clear when my Dad, Kenneth Christison, Jr., began playing the trombone in school in Los Molinos, California. Ken Christison joined the Air Force in 1961 and was stationed at Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery, Alabama. He played in the Maxwell Air Force Band. He also met my mother, Connie Revelle, in Montgomery and, after they were married, it’s where I was born. Dad was stationed at the Air Force Academy in 1966, bringing him to the state of Colorado where 3 generations of his family had lived before him.

(United States Air Force photograph)

The Falconaires

As a bandsman of the United States Air Force Academy Band, Dad played trombone in the Marching Band, Symphony and, for a year or two, the Falconaires, a jazz ensemble. Dad played on the Falconaires album, “The Snake Creek Diversion Project,” a respected jazz and funk recording. Here’s a YouTube video I found with the recording of “Memphis Soul Stew.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGqmBqz3UaI

Every day the Air Force Academy Band played breakfast, noon, and supper formations, marching the Air Force Academy cadets to their meals. The band also performed concerts throughout the year at the Academy. My favorites were the Christmas concerts. Dad was stationed at the Air Force Academy for eighteen years. He was also the instrument repairman, which made him indispensable to the band.

Growing up with music, I learned to play the flute, piano, and guitar in elementary school. My brother, Brian, played the trumpet and guitar, too. I played flute in the band through Junior High and one year in High School. That was 1981, the year Douglas County High School Marching Band marched in the Rose Parade. After marching five miles through Pasadena, I really didn’t have any desire to march again!

(Douglas County News, Castle Rock, Colorado)

The Range Riders

My musical interests turned in another direction a couple of weeks after the Rose Parade when a friend asked me to play guitar in a country-western band he was starting with his cousin. Ron Gresham, his cousin John Gresham, and I became The Range Riders. We played for a few community gatherings and a dance or two, but we found we were better as a gospel group than a dance band. And John and I have been making music ever since!

Today we play in a bluegrass gospel group that leads the worship service at church once a month. I’ve added a banjo and hammered dulcimer to my musical instrument collection. I can play both a little. I’m a pretty good rhythm guitar player and a decent harmony singer. John plays mandolin and sings, too. We enjoy playing old country western songs with John’s father, who plays guitar. And the Christison and Gresham music talent hasn’t ended with us—I enjoy playing guitar in the contemporary praise group at church with my daughter, Kate, who plays the bass and my son, Kenny, who plays guitar.

This post was written for the 83rd edition of the Carnival of Genealogy hosted by Janet Iles at Janet the Researcher.

Prospecting and Wild Strawberries: A Childhood Memory

Ken Christison, Sr., Elizabeth Christison, Gayle Christison, Brian Christison

Randy Seaver, author of the Genea-Musings Blog, has a regular Saturday Night Genealogy Fun challenge for geneabloggers. Tonight's challenge is to write one of your most vivid childhood memories. And tonight I accept the challenge!

My recent gold panning experience brought back memories of my Grandpa Christison. I wish I could say many memories, but I wasn't around him enough to have many memories. Therefore, the ones I do have tend to be pretty vivid to me.

When I was a child, Grandpa Christison lived in Salida. He worked as a deputy sheriff for Chaffee County, but spent his spare time prospecting or working his mining claim up on Poncha Pass. I remember camping at our camping spot on Spring Creek one time when I was seven or eight. My Dad drove the International Scout up the mountain trail until we found Grandpa's old green International pickup. I don't really remember anything about the claim other than Grandpa doing some shoveling. There wasn't a big hole or anything. Another memory is of Grandpa making pancakes and cooking them on the griddle over the open fire. I remember being amazed because I didn't know you could make pancakes when you were camping!

My most vivid memory is of Grandpa taking us hiking up past his claim; following Spring Creek until we found the spring, the very beginnings of the creek. Surrounding the creek were wild strawberries--the tiniest little berries that packed a strawberry punch like I'd never tasted before! We ate strawberries and knelt down by the small creek, cupped our hands and drank water from the cold mountain spring. I can tell you I've never had strawberries that tasted so good.

This memory came back to me when Shirley and Larry Weilnau took John and I hiking at Cache Creek. As we hiked up the mountain a ways, my eyes were on the ground looking at the wild strawberry plants. Even though I knew I wouldn't find any strawberries in September, I still couldn't stop myself from hoping one bright strawberry might reveal itself to me. It dawned on me that prospecting and wild strawberries will forever be entwined in my mind.

Grandpa Christison and his wife, Elizabeth, moved to Oregon when I was in the 4th grade in 1974. The above picture was taken in their yard in the trailer park in Salida when we said good-bye before they moved. It's the only picture I have of Grandpa Christison, Elizabeth, my younger brother, Brian, and I together. Actually, it's the only picture I have of Grandpa when I was young. I wish we had pictures of Grandpa at his claim or camping or cooking pancakes.

Grandpa Christison died in 1994. We had a family memorial for him at Spring Creek in 1995 and his four children drove from California, Oregon, and North Carolina to remember him at one of his favorite places.

So, here is to prospecting, wild strawberries, pancakes, Spring Creek, and Grandpa Christison! Thank you for the special memories.

The Death of Judge Christison

Death of Judge Christison
He Succombs to Pneumonia on Monday Night
Sketch of a Notable Life
(Fairplay Flume February 9, 1882)

Judge Wilburn Christison passed from life into the unknown, about midnight on Monday, the 7th, and in his death the community mourns a pioneer in Colorado, a fearless advocate of justice and one who has, during a large portion of his life, been a faithful servant of the people. Whatever were his faults, his virtues so predominated that we have only good to write of him at this hour.

The Judge’s life was an eventful one, though he was but fifty-five at this time. It has been the pleasure of the writer to sit for hours at the time and listen to him discoursing on the many stirring events that marked the early history of the State, the transition period, when these western wilds were passing from a perfect wilderness to a state of semi-civilization. Those were the “times that tried men’s souls”, and brought out the mettle of the frontiersmen. The Judge was never boastful of the part he performed in working out these changes, but he always was interesting, and often eloquent in his description of scenes of danger and trial with which he had evidently been most intimate.

He was born in Jackson Co., Missouri, April 14, 1827 and Jackson Co. was then on the far frontier. Doubtless, his early education imbued him with a love of adventure, which could only be satisfied by following the Star of the Empire westward, or rather keeping the lead in the march, for we find that in 1856 he moved to Kansas. The history of that state, from that time till 1861, is too well known to need much mention. It was chaos struggling to find order and law warring against border ruffianism. By '60 the peace loving element had gained the ascendancy and Colorado was then causing a furore, on account of the gold discoveries. With a family of young children, the Judge and his faithful helpmate again joined the march, and 1861 found them located on Cash (also Cache) Creek, near the Arkansas, a then wild region, frequented more by Indians than any other people. The Judge practiced law, when there was opportunity, at Granite, the county seat of Lake County, mined, and opened a trading post with the Indians. His manner inspired confidence among the simple inhabitants of neighboring fastnesses, and he soon reckoned among his fast friends, old Colorow, Saguache, and other noted chiefs and braves. He served as County Judge of Lake County for one term and was re-elected, but resigned shortly after, having decided to remove to Fairplay in 1873. The same fall he was elected County Judge of Park County and served the people faithfully in that office for two terms. His mind was singularly bright and his judgment clear, during these years and he established a wide reputation for judicial acumen.

It was during these years that the Judge was connected with the exciting contest between two elements struggling for the supremacy in Lake County. He defended Elijah Gibbs, and secured his acquittal on a charge of murder, though Gibbs was know to have shot at least three men. Briefly summarized the facts were as follows: One night George Harrington, a storekeeper on Gas Creek, found that his house was on fire, and going out to quench it he was shot by some hid in the brush. There had been trouble between the two, and the neighbors were not slow to accuse Gibbs of the murder. A party started to lynch him, but he got wind of their coming and barricading his cabin, stood a siege in which he killed three of the vigilantes and wounded a fourth. The next day he gave himself up and was tried and, Judge Christison appearing for him, was acquitted. He left at once for Texas. Out of this affair grew a terribly bitter feud. The vigilantes were constantly warring upon all who had been Gibbs’ friends. Some terrible depredations were committed, and Judge Elias Dyer, who was then acting as District Judge, was shot dead in his chair in the court room at Granite, on account of an attempt of the court to punish this lawlessness. Incidently, it may be mentioned that all the leaders of this lawless element have since come to an evil end, as if an avenger were following them. William Nolan became crazy, Anderson Gerry drowned himself in a fit of desperation, James Moore was killed in a row at Trinidad, James Deeming went crazy and the frightful death of Charles Nichtrieb last fall is still fresh in the minds of our reader. All of these names will be familiar to those who know Judge Christison in pioneer days, and will serve to recall a thousand and one instance in which the deceased was an able and eloquent advocate of the right.

Judge Christison leaves a wife and eight children to mourn his untimely death. He leaves also a large circle of friends who will sympathize sincerely and deeply with them. The funeral service was performed at the house yesterday afternoon by Rev. H.J. Huston, in the presence of a large number of citizens. The members of Doric Lodge, A.F. & A.M. were present in a body to do the last service for a departed brother.

My Cache Creek Gold Panning Experience

Gayle Gresham and Shirley Weilnau

After my first visit to Cache Creek in 2006, I began to dream about panning for gold in the same creek as my great-great-grandfather did in 1861. My dream came true this week after I discovered Shirley Weilnau's website, Hooked On Gold, while searching for Cache Creek info online. Shirley had her Twitter updates on her blog and, of course, I had to follow her. We began chatting and I told her of my desire to pan for gold at Cache Creek. Her reply, "Well, we'll be there tomorrow. Come on up!" Tomorrow didn't work for me, but Friday, September 11 did!

Shirley and her husband, Larry, welcomed John and I to the Cache Creek recreational mining area. They took us on a hike to show us some interesting sites, then it was time to get down to the nitty gritty. See my post "Gayle's Panning For Gold Video" to see how I learned to wash out the gravel. My wonderful husband took the pictures and video.

Once I'd washed the sand, gravel and rocks out of my pan, Shirley taught me how to separate the gold from the black sand. I tapped the top of the pan to "walk" the gold up to the top. I swirled the water in the pan a little to fan out the black sand. Then I began to swish water up and down to draw the black sand away from the gold. In the following picture (click it to enlarge it) you can see the black sand near the top of the pan. Just above it are three tiny particles of gold. Do you see them? My very first gold!

My first gold!

I washed about 6 pans of gold. There was gold in every pan but one. Shirley and Larry were so patient with teaching me how to pan. I learned to always keep the dirt covered with water as I pan, even when fanning the black dirt. And, Shirley told me that for a beginner I have a pretty good swish technique for washing away the black sand from the gold. Must be in my genes.
One pleasant surprise was a group of homeschoolers who were visiting that day to pan for gold. I asked if they'd like to hear Wilburn Christison's story and they graciously agreed. I love telling the story of the Cash Creek Miners to children. They especially like the part about Wilburn's children being the only white children in the camp and that they played with the Ute children when they passed through.

Gayle, Shirley and Larry

Now I am hooked on panning for gold. Ready to go buy a gold pan and a shovel! I knew any prospecting would be dangerous for me; after all, my great-great-grandfather, my great-grandfather, and my grandfather were all miners! And even though I didn't learn to pan for gold from my grandfather, I did learn from two former Colorado state champion gold panners. Thank you, Shirley and Larry, for making a dream come true.

Gayle's Gold Panning Video

This video was taken near the end of the day when I was getting better at working my pan. You experts out there will know I'm still not getting enough water in my pan, but hey, it's better than how I started out!

After Larry Weilnau shoveled out dirt from a spot away from the creek into a five-gallon bucket, he carried it to the creek. He also dug out two holes in the creek so we would have enough water for panning. The creek is low this time of the year, but Cache Creek has always had a problem with enough water flow. I put some dirt in the pan and began washing it.

In the video, you can see two different motions. With the first motion I vigorously agitate the pan side to side and slightly swirl it. This lets the heavier particles of gold settle to the bottom. Gold panning works because gold is 19 times heavier than water and will fall to the bottom of the pan. Next I swish the pan forward, washing out the lighter sand and rocks while the creases or "riffles" in the pan hold the heavier gold. I repeat this over and over until the pan of dirt decreases to a small amount of black sand.

More about the rest of the process in the next post...

Black Sheep Sunday

The old Buena Vista Jail, built in 1882. Now school administration offices.

Today is Black Sheep Sunday with GeneaBloggers. Since many of my posts have to do with my great-great-uncle outlaw, Ernest Christison, I haven't participated. However, today I thought I'd reveal one of Ernest's "black sheep" moments. And it's my last post about last week's trip to Buena Vista and Salida.

On January 27, 1884 Ernest escaped from the Buena Vista jail with 10 other prisoners. A fire in the town the previous night seemed to have distracted the guards and the prisoners removed bricks at the back of the jail and made their break. Ernest and another man headed to Salida and were captured the next day in Thomas Cameron's barn. Another escapee, Thomas Neinmyer (or Ninemyer), was the man who shot Salida Marshal Baxter Stingley and killed three other men on Memorial Day (read Baxter Stingley, Salida Marshal). Neinmeyer was never captured.

I visited the old jail and the old Buena Vista courthouse which now houses the Buena Vista Heritage Museum for the first time last week. As Bev and I walked around the building, I pointed out where the sheriff's office and jailer's office were in the front of the building from a diagram I have of the jail. Then the cells were in the back of the building. We turned around the back as I explained how the men removed the bricks and escaped. Then I stopped in wonder when I saw the place where the bricks and been removed and replaced! I never dreamed you would be able to see the exact spot the prisoners escaped through.

Then we went into the museum. Wendy Oliver, the museum manager, was very helpful and let me look at some of their manuscript and book collections. I had some great finds! The museum is wonderful and it was fun to see items from families whose names I recognize from my research. I look forward to having more contact with the Heritage Museum and their staff.