One day dad, George, decided to hire a workman to help him put up his monuments for the year. He chose a couple who had come up from the Imperial Valley to escape the law. They were personable and dad was taken in by their willingness to help him run the dozers and walk the mountain sides putting new papers in the monuments. Dad figured that they could help him out for months and in return gave them a trailer to sleep in and food to eat. What he never took into consideration was that Bruce would become very jealous of the man and his wife and decide to run them out of the canyon by any means necessary. The man's name was Tom and I don't remember the lady's name as she was as quiet and withdrawn as I was and we never really made contact.
At first, Tom and Bruce tried to put on a good face, but you could feel tensions simmering between them right from the first. All Bruce could talk about was Tom and getting him out of the canyon. Tom also wore weapons (as did dad) everyday, all day long, and even to bed at night-just in case a problem should arise. Bruce screamed at Tom in his sleep and in the daytime he plotted ways to get something on Tom to go to the sheriffs with. He had the boys break into Tom's trailer when they were gone one day in order to look for marijuana or other drugs-which they found and stole. Bruce told the sheriff what they had found and the police told him to mind his own business that they couldn't just accept his word to arrest a man; they had to find a reason on their own and they promised to keep a close eye on Tom as they had already had complaints about him from the Julian merchants.
That was not good enough for Bruce who fussed and fumed all the way home.
Then one day the fight escalated when we left to go to town and when we came to dad's property, lying in front of Tom's trailer, in the middle of the road, was a dead fox who had been shot and then laid out on the road as a "death threat" to Bruce. Of course, that was Bruce's interpretation of the dead fox. It was kind of odd and I remember getting chills up my spine as I watched Bruce create a mountain out of a molehill on the spot. Bruce began to carry a shotgun and a high-powered rifle with him at all times and lean them against the wall at night by the side of his bed.
At first I thought this was just another incident of Bruce's outrageous temper, but the man began to obsess about Tom 24 hours a day and could talk of nothing else. Then he began to stalk Tom in order to see if he had a regular schedule that he kept. He soon knew that Tom would go to town on Thursdays and then spent the rest of the days going past our millsite to other areas of the canyon. Bruce took this as a personal threat. He believed that Tom was stalking him and had it in his mind to blow him away at first opportunity. Usually, Tom's drive by our house was followed by his return within about two hours. Bruce never figured out what they were doing, but he suspected that they had marijuana growing up the canyon and would go most days to water the crops.
Then one day when we returned from town we saw that one of the neighbors had come home from town himself and returned to find his seven wolf-dogs all shot where they had been staked out. Everyone of them dead. He was devastated; they had been his closest friends and he took excellent care of them. Bruce immediately decided that Tom had been the culprit and that seemed to break something in his mind.
The next morning, after Tom and his wife had driven past the house, Bruce started stuffing guns of all kind from hand-guns to semi-automatic rifles and shotguns into his 4-wheel-drive truck. When the truck was filled he demanded that I go with him, threatening me if I didn't go. I got in the truck and immediately started praying hard that somehow there would be no more trouble and no one would get killed. We drove down the road after Tom until we came to a huge stand of scrub-oak trees. The area was also covered with tall bushes and manzanita. Bruce looked the area over then he backed the truck way up the little foothill and positioned it behind some tall bushes where you couldn't see us from the road. We sat there watching the road in front of us, waiting for Tom and his wife to drive by on their way home. Bruce sat there muttering what he was going to do which was to shoot and kill both Tom and his wife when they passed in front of us. I spent the time pleading with Bruce, but I might as well have been talking to the wind. I was TERRIFIED, and sat there shaking and praying with all of my might that somehow Tom and his wife would never come past. We sat thus for four hours with Bruce having his weapons pointed at the road and never moving an inch. I finally broke down and began to plead with him to just let us go on home quietly. I was sobbing and rapidly loosing control. I begged Bruce, "Please let's just go home and deal with this another day. You don't really want to kill someone and then have to go to jail and never be in the mountains again, do you?"
Finally, after five hours of waiting to kill another human being, Bruce relented, and we drove back home and put the guns back in the house.
That was the end of the madness because Tom and his wife quite inexplicably disappeared that day and never returned, even leaving their belongings in the little trailer. Rumor had it that they were arrested in the Imperial Valley over some of his past warrants and couldn't get back to the mountains again. They never returned and I praised God for what I was sure was His intervention.
I began to hate Bruce and was very much afraid of what he was capable of doing. I had terrors for years about the five hours waiting in ambush to kill another human being. I wanted off of the mountain for good...away from the crazy man, but I did not own a vehicle and Bruce never would let me drive one of his vehicles. I had to get myself in shape so that I could walk off of the mountain on my own two feet.
Tomorrow we will talk about surviving the seasons on the mountain.
At first, Tom and Bruce tried to put on a good face, but you could feel tensions simmering between them right from the first. All Bruce could talk about was Tom and getting him out of the canyon. Tom also wore weapons (as did dad) everyday, all day long, and even to bed at night-just in case a problem should arise. Bruce screamed at Tom in his sleep and in the daytime he plotted ways to get something on Tom to go to the sheriffs with. He had the boys break into Tom's trailer when they were gone one day in order to look for marijuana or other drugs-which they found and stole. Bruce told the sheriff what they had found and the police told him to mind his own business that they couldn't just accept his word to arrest a man; they had to find a reason on their own and they promised to keep a close eye on Tom as they had already had complaints about him from the Julian merchants.
That was not good enough for Bruce who fussed and fumed all the way home.
Then one day the fight escalated when we left to go to town and when we came to dad's property, lying in front of Tom's trailer, in the middle of the road, was a dead fox who had been shot and then laid out on the road as a "death threat" to Bruce. Of course, that was Bruce's interpretation of the dead fox. It was kind of odd and I remember getting chills up my spine as I watched Bruce create a mountain out of a molehill on the spot. Bruce began to carry a shotgun and a high-powered rifle with him at all times and lean them against the wall at night by the side of his bed.
At first I thought this was just another incident of Bruce's outrageous temper, but the man began to obsess about Tom 24 hours a day and could talk of nothing else. Then he began to stalk Tom in order to see if he had a regular schedule that he kept. He soon knew that Tom would go to town on Thursdays and then spent the rest of the days going past our millsite to other areas of the canyon. Bruce took this as a personal threat. He believed that Tom was stalking him and had it in his mind to blow him away at first opportunity. Usually, Tom's drive by our house was followed by his return within about two hours. Bruce never figured out what they were doing, but he suspected that they had marijuana growing up the canyon and would go most days to water the crops.
Then one day when we returned from town we saw that one of the neighbors had come home from town himself and returned to find his seven wolf-dogs all shot where they had been staked out. Everyone of them dead. He was devastated; they had been his closest friends and he took excellent care of them. Bruce immediately decided that Tom had been the culprit and that seemed to break something in his mind.
The next morning, after Tom and his wife had driven past the house, Bruce started stuffing guns of all kind from hand-guns to semi-automatic rifles and shotguns into his 4-wheel-drive truck. When the truck was filled he demanded that I go with him, threatening me if I didn't go. I got in the truck and immediately started praying hard that somehow there would be no more trouble and no one would get killed. We drove down the road after Tom until we came to a huge stand of scrub-oak trees. The area was also covered with tall bushes and manzanita. Bruce looked the area over then he backed the truck way up the little foothill and positioned it behind some tall bushes where you couldn't see us from the road. We sat there watching the road in front of us, waiting for Tom and his wife to drive by on their way home. Bruce sat there muttering what he was going to do which was to shoot and kill both Tom and his wife when they passed in front of us. I spent the time pleading with Bruce, but I might as well have been talking to the wind. I was TERRIFIED, and sat there shaking and praying with all of my might that somehow Tom and his wife would never come past. We sat thus for four hours with Bruce having his weapons pointed at the road and never moving an inch. I finally broke down and began to plead with him to just let us go on home quietly. I was sobbing and rapidly loosing control. I begged Bruce, "Please let's just go home and deal with this another day. You don't really want to kill someone and then have to go to jail and never be in the mountains again, do you?"
Finally, after five hours of waiting to kill another human being, Bruce relented, and we drove back home and put the guns back in the house.
That was the end of the madness because Tom and his wife quite inexplicably disappeared that day and never returned, even leaving their belongings in the little trailer. Rumor had it that they were arrested in the Imperial Valley over some of his past warrants and couldn't get back to the mountains again. They never returned and I praised God for what I was sure was His intervention.
I began to hate Bruce and was very much afraid of what he was capable of doing. I had terrors for years about the five hours waiting in ambush to kill another human being. I wanted off of the mountain for good...away from the crazy man, but I did not own a vehicle and Bruce never would let me drive one of his vehicles. I had to get myself in shape so that I could walk off of the mountain on my own two feet.
Tomorrow we will talk about surviving the seasons on the mountain.
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