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• _UID: 44C006C4B9A01A4988FB4AA907B65C3B5440

Notes:

"BACKFIRE- Old Ranch Out West" Written by Alice Rue Eaton Grigsby
The old rustic ranch house, with its pleasant porches, overlooked a winding creek which was fringed with Pussy Willows and overhanging cottonwoods. During the winter months, this stream became a small river. We stood at the windows and watched the wild rush of turbulent waters. Driftwood, washed out fences, and flood gates, rode the crest of the waves. When the storm subsided, our river was again a winding brook, and during the summer months, it was merely a depression in the bottomland. In the occasional ponds of water beneath the cottonwood trees, the cattle stood knee deep, chewed their cuds and with their tails, switched away the flies.

This house was situated in the midst of a two thousand acre tract. Pleasant valleys and rolling foothills, which submerged into the rugged Coast Range Mountains, made this area beautiful. My brother, Charles, and I spent a wonderful childhood on this old ranch. It was a playground of abrupt hills and verdant valleys, which in springtime was colorful with wildflowers.

Beneath the drooping branches of the massive oaks, the sheep and cattle sought refuge from the summer's hot sun. The pleasant valleys were encircled with rugged foothills which were heavily wooded with scrub oak, manzanita and red holly bushes, Giant digger pines silhouetted against a blue sky, crowned the hilltops, and when the wind blew strong, they sent their music reverberating in valleys below.

This land was paradise for a flaxen haired boy and a freckled faced girl, who found unbounded happiness with their good saddle horses as they daily traversed this area.

We tramped through the woods, where we often found a spring of crystal water, from which a gurgling stream dashed down the hillside. Growing in profusion were beautiful wildflowers. In the shadows of the rocks grew the lacey Maidenhair ferns. On the hilltops we gathered armfuls of Indian Paint Brush. Often, we caught a glimpse of a bright yellow Gopher Snake making a hasty retreat.

A brook is always the home of creeping things. Our Mother constantly warned us to beware of the rattlesnake. He generally sounds his baneful warning with his wriggling tail, raised head, glittering eyes and hissing tongue. He throws himself into an instant coil with the even rapidity of an electric device. All animals know instinctively the danger of combat with him, and the sound of his rattles fills them with fear and terror for many are his victims in the densely wooded areas and around the deep water holes during the warm summer season. This land held many joys and also heart breaking tragedies in our lives.

Mount Shasta stands at the north of this valley; magnificent in her grandeur, rising to the height of 14,380 feet. She has been chiseled by wind and storm until she stands clear and white against the blue sky, like a mighty pyramid. The building of the Shasta dam placed her name before the world, as the giver of that elixir of life; water.

Looking east from the old ranch, we could plainly see Mount Lassen, which stands like a battle scarred warrior. She became famous on 19 May 1914, when she sent her rocks and lava pouring over the surrounding country; becoming the only active volcano in the United States. She is visited by many tourists during the pleasant summer and fall months. Impressive canyons, primeval forests and alpine lakes, add to the beauty of Lassen Park.

It was Indian Summer in the California foothills. Autumn had turned the land into crimson and gold. The hills and valleys were veiled with a blue atmospheric mist, which at times almost obliterated the world around us. The fertile valleys were covered with a heavy growth of sunburned grass, which crackled in the afternoon breeze, as it stood like and abundant harvest awaiting the reaper; for the harvest of the earth was ripe. The dangerous days of autumn had arrived when all western ranchers were keenly alert for any trace of smoke to appear on the horizon.

My brother, Charles, dashed through the house (screaming), "Forest Fire", then he was soon galloping off toward the western rim of the ranch on his beautiful saddle horse, Gray Bess. His faithful dog, Cappy, was following in the dust of the horses heels; ready and willing to follow his master to the end of the world. Looking into the distance, we saw angry volumes of black smoke, curling up from behind pine crested hills and rolling off into gray sky. Each moment it was coming closer, slashing its way through the forest with devastating fury, roaring through the crowns of the trees and sending pine cones rolling down the hillsides, leaving ribbons of fire, as it raced on its way; driving all forest animals before it and devouring the unfortunate which failed to escape.

The atmosphere was heavy with the odor of the burning woods. All pasture and grazing land, upon which droves of sheep and cattle were dependent for winter food, was being swept away. The bonds of friendship and loyalty were strong between the frontier ranchers. When adversity befell them, they remained staunch and true. They borrowed, loaned and gave without reluctance. It was their code of existence.

After the first glimpse of smoke appeared in the skies, men began arriving at the old Eaton ranch from within a twenty five mile radius. They immediately made a back fir line around the old home and buildings.

My sister, Leah, taught school far away from home but was spending a few days with us. We supplied the fire fighters with wet sacks to beat out the flames in their effort to save the valleys. We placed two large tubs in the back of my car and filled them with burlap sacks and water. Driving between the house and the backfiring line we passed through the canyon approaching the house. The hills were burning on both sides of us. The roar was so terrific, I could not hear the sound of my engine. I turned to my sister saying, "My engine has stopped!" Still, my car kept going and carried us through the narrow road. The horror of being stalled in the midst of the fire, turned my blood cold. When we emerged from the canyon, I could hear my old Super Six Hudson ticking away. My foot pressed the accelerator to the floor and we traveled safely through the walls of fire, which had left the hills bare and black. The skeletons of the pines were standing like death sentinels, guarding the old mutilated canyon.

Our little mother was bravely doing her bit. She baked pans of hot biscuits, kept a huge pot of coffee on the stove, opened jars of pears preserves and pickled peaches. The old dining table became a banquet board where the fire fighters came in relays to refresh and replenish their strength. They were sterling men who gave freely their friendship and loyalty. I shall always appreciate them.

There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. Prov. 18:24

Several hours had passed. The smoke disappeared from the skies and the fire was brought under control. A beautiful gray saddle horse without a rider galloped into the barnyard. She was seared and burned over her entire body. Her mane, tail and fetlocks were entirely gone. Her hoofs were black. The barn door was opened for her, and she dashed into her stall. The scorched saddle and blanket was removed, and she was attended in every possible way. She was almost unmanageable from the ordeal through which she had passed.

Anxiety and fear held everyone speechless. Where was Charles? The tired men broke up into groups and hastily started out in different directions in search of him. They found him wandering aimlessly in the hills, trying to reach home. His face and hands were badly burned and he was as black as a colored man, although in life he was the fair English type; an athlete with a wonderful body. He was rushed to the Sisters Hospital in Red Bluff, where he remained for many weeks. His hands and face were solidly bandaged and all food had to be taken through a glass tube. He carried pitted scars on his face as long as he lived.

His dog, Cappy, was lost in the crackling hell, and was never found. His beautiful saddle mare, Gray Bess, never recovered. Each hoof became infected and one by one, dropped off. Her suffering was intense and her life had to be mercifully ended.

Charles was never again the superb physique and happy personality he had previously been. There was a break in his life. He soon followed our Father and Mother into the invisible land.

Today the United States Aviation Fire Patrol make their daily trips over this area; ever watchful of this frontier area where herds of sheep and bands of cattle graze in peaceful contentment. The isolated ranchers look up into the blue sky and know that Uncle Sam is standing by when the dreaded forest fire goes to work. To all men of the Air Patrol, we are greatly indebted.

It is comforting to know that when Charles closed the door upon this world and walked into the invisible, awaiting was his beautiful gray saddle mare, Gray Bess, with flicking ears, arched neck and champing bit. As he swung into the saddle and galloped into the distance, a sleek black mongrel dog was following in the dust of the horses heels.

AU Revoir, Charles!

Alice married Byron Lindsay GRIGSBY on 25 Aug 1905 in Methodist Church, Red Bluff, Tehama, California, United States. Byron (son of Erasmus Dorwin GRIGSBY and Elmira MILLER) was born on 2 Mar 1872 in Brentwood, Contra Costa, California, United States; died on 11 Jun 1959 in Brentwood, Contra Costa, California, United States. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Notes:

marriage recorded Book H page 61, Tehama County, CA marriages

1. Virginia Holland GRIGSBY was born on 11 Aug 1914 in Oakland, Alameda, California, United States; died on 6 May 1992 in , Contra Costa, California, United States; was buried in Brentwood, Contra Costa, California, United States.

Other Events:

• _UID: A8101E4E0869D34CA11F4F380A54C8DAFB38

Notes:

Possible?
1850 United States Federal Census
Name: George W Eaton
Age: 9
Estimated Birth Year: abt 1841
Birth Place: Missouri
Gender: Male
Home in 1850(City,County,State): District 94, Shelby, Missouri
Household Members: Name Age
George Eaton 46
George W Eaton 9
Harrison Eaton 12
James Eaton 19
John Eaton 17
Martha A Eaton 8
Mary J Eaton 13
Nancy E Eaton 1
Rebecca Eaton 44
Sarah E Eaton 4
William Eaton 15



1880 United States Federal Census
Name: George W. Eaton
Home in 1880: Chico, Butte, California
Age: 41
Estimated Birth Year: abt 1839
Birthplace: Missouri
Relation to Head of Household: Self (Head)
Spouse's Name: Louisa M.
Father's birthplace: Kentucky
Mother's birthplace: Kentucky
Occupation: Farmer raised stock
Marital Status: Married
Race: White
Gender: Male
Household Members: Name Age
George W. Eaton 41
Louisa M. Eaton 33
Fred. I. Eaton 13
Leah B. Eaton 12
George A. Eaton 8
Grace E. Eaton 6

1900 United States Federal Census
Name: George W Eaton
Home in 1900: Paskenta, Tehama, California
Age: 59
Birth Date: Aug 1840
Birthplace: Missouri
Race: White
Ethnicity: American
Relationship to head-of-house: Head stock raiser
Father's Birthplace: Kentucky
Mother's Birthplace: Missouri
Spouse's Name: Louise
Marriage Year: 1865
Marital Status: Married
Years Married: 35
Residence : Paskenta Township, Tehama, California
Household Members: Name Age
George W Eaton 59
Louise Eaton 56 wife
Charley Eaton 19 son
Alice Eaton 15 daughter
Minerva Woodey 7 neice
John Berry 76 brother in law
William B Byram 67 boarder

1910 United States Federal Census
Name: George W Eaton
Age in 1910: 68
Estimated Birth Year: abt 1842
Birthplace: Missouri
Relation to Head of House: Head
Father's Birth Place: Kentucky
Mother's Birth Place: Missouri
Spouse's Name: Louise M
Home in 1910: Paskenta, Tehama, California
Marital Status: Married
Race: White
Gender: Male
Neighbors:
Household Members: Name Age
George W Eaton 68
Louise M Eaton 64
Charles C Eaton 28
Josephine K Eaton 27
John B Holland 86
Manuel Vanesnceller 25

1920 United States Federal Census
Name: George W Eston [George W Eaton]
Home in 1920: Paskenta, Tehama, California (This town is 20 mi. West of Corning, southwest of Red Bluff)
Age: 80 years
Estimated Birth Year: abt 1840
Birthplace: Missouri
Relation to Head of House: Father
Spouse's Name: Louise M
Father's Birth Place: Kentucky
Mother's Birth Place: Kentucky
Marital Status: Married
Race: White
Sex: Male
Able to read: Yes
Able to Write: Yes
Image: 439
Household Members: Name Age
Charles C Eston 38
Josephine K Eston 37
Margaret C Eston 3 2/12
Laurence Etzler 40
George W Eston 80
Louise M Eston 75
Dorris Hoxey 18

George married Louisa Matilda HOLLAND in 1865 in Red Bluff, Tehama, California, United States. Louisa (daughter of Matthew HOLLAND and Nancy) was born on 20 Mar 1846 in Petersburg, Menard, Illinois, United States; died on 22 Mar 1929 in California, United States. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

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• _UID: 03CCB5F67C77794298EBB6C4A758CBC8B7C8

Notes:

Probably died in Redding Area CA

Could this marriage be a relative?
HOLLAND, MATHEW C WATKINS, ELIZA 01/19/1854 A/ 124 848 MENARD

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• _UID: AC393FABF24FF647BC74B1ECC1CD8AFE305B

Matthew married Nancy. Nancy (daughter of Lucas and Sara) was born in Dec 1856 in Missouri, United States; died after 1920 in California, United States. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

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• _UID: 233E002962FB4D44ADE8BEE1C5143FEEB203

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• _UID: B16DC621AEB1504CAECC83E379AA63DB418B

married Sara. Sara was born about 1829 in Kentucky, United States. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

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• _UID: 2B99A981847CA84B906F96EFB823DC3D591F