Newberry Springs
My dad really wanted to move out of the city. The desert town of Newberry Springs, out a few miles past Barstow, is what he found. I remember the one room real estate office, with the outhouse in the back, and the real estate agent, Mr. Thatcher, a real chain smoker, who always snuck me a piece of salt water taffy. He kept saying to my skeptical mother
“Things are happening out there!”
My brother recently found that my they bought the land when I was three, in 1956.
And things were happening. There were lakes being built out there. There is a large underground river that runs through that valley. You really can’t see it from the ground, but you can see the path of green on Google maps. People could dig out holes, tap the river, make a pond or lake, and then try to do something with it. Trailer parks, little vacation spots. Trout fishing ponds. When I was little I wanted to have dolphins there.
Plans.
Not the dolphins or any other idea really worked out.
Nearby, off the highway, there was a lava field and a little volcano that fascinated me for years. And there was a mysterious spigot just out there on the side of the road. A spigot with water for anyone!
One of the things that people did out there, if they didn’t dig a lake for themselves, was to have chicken farms. A few years after my dad bought his 40 acres we went and visited this family and their chicken farm. The kids were two boys and two girls. The oldest girl was a little older than me. One of the boys we would now label as autistic. He liked me very much because I could understand what he was saying. He only could speak with his tongue, but not his lips.
We visited them a few times. The last time I was 12, the older girl paid a lot of attention to me. She gave me a Me Too experience.
Look for the movie, Baghdad Café, which was filmed in Newberry Springs, a good eccentric film. Don’t fail to miss it if you can.
We would take a drive out there a couple of times a year. I would kid my dad that we went to see if the land was still there. I’ve done that a few times myself since, going out to see if the property is still there.
Nearby was Calico Ghost Town. A real silver mine ghost town then owned by the Knott family, now a state park. It was the inspiration for Knotts Berry Farm, and even a couple of buildings from Calico were moved to Knotts. I often managed to get a trip to see Calico, which was very underdeveloped at the time, and a lot of fun, for me.
Out with the kids to check to see if the land was still there, we were challenged by a pack of neighbor dogs. I opened my Swiss Army knife, I couldn’t think of any other way to protect the children. But I think I got away with alphaing the dogs away.
We went when the kids were grown. We rented a big van. Joe and his dad were there as well. The day didn’t work out smoothly, but I do remember that day very fondly. It was an adventure.
A couple years before she died, my mom sent me to Barstow to see how much the 40 acres were worth. The city people and a realtor I talked to almost laughed out loud at the question. At first my mom wanted me to have it, then minds were changed, and Mario still pays the taxes on the near worthless piece of land. I have hopes that my kids, or the cousins, or some of them together, do something with it.
Things are happening out there!