For fourteen years we lived in the mountains. Fourteen Channukahs, fourteen Christmases, 3 High School graduations, 13 grandchildren born, and almost a mile long tunnel dug with some monetary success.
By 1993 all of the children had moved out on their own and we had children spread across Iowa, Michigan, California, and New Jersey. The grandchildren were visiting the mine on weekends and holidays and life seemed like nothing would ever change. But I had changed. The years on the mountain had been hard on my physical and mental health. I began to dream of leaving the mountains and going back to school to finish my degree. Problem was, Bruce was dead set against leaving the mountain and he had no intention of letting me go either. He was a very controlling man and for the last ten years I had not been allowed to drive any car, or go off of the mountain by myself. Bruce insisted because the truck was in his name only that only he could drive it. I began to rebel and push him until he would allow me to go to the Banner Store once a month, all by myself. So many times I wished that I could just drive the car to Debby's house and live there.
As Bruce observed my struggle to get free of his tyranny, he became abusive in his treatment of me. We would go to visit one of his many friends and he would leave me sitting in the truck for hours, no matter what the weather or the temperature was. I was not allowed to move. My soul rose up in rebellion.
When I went to my next Psychologist's appointment, right in front of Bruce, I began to tell the doctor of my imprisonment up in the mountains and my fear of repercussions from Bruce if I decided to make a move on my own. The Doctor told me about a Social Security P.A.S.S. Program that was in place to help people like myself, on S.S.I., get training to get a job, start up their own business, or go back to college. The program paid for what you needed to get started up, in my case it was my own car so that I could go off of the mountain and continue my education near to my daughter, Debby.
Bruce went up in smoke at the idea, but the Doctor told me the name and phone number of the P.A.S.S. program director and told Bruce that if he interfered with my getting into the program, or didn't give the help that I needed to qualify for the program, that he was going to the authorities and file a complaint against him for imprisonment against my control. Bruce capitulated and began to really worry if I was going to leave him forever, or not. I tried to reassure him, but the process was hard and the more I got into it the more I knew I had to do this program and get off of the mountain or I would die. The program, the Pathway for Achieving Self Sufficiency, was marvelous and after gathering much data about college and the car I needed to be able to get off of the mountain and go to school, I was approved for the program and was given a grant-like program where I would receive a check for X amount of dollars each month and that was to go toward paying off a used car; every cent went into buying the car. Then I was obligated to get good grades in school and go full-time until I got my degree. I moved in with Debby for the week days and then went to the mountains for the weekend. I WAS FREE!
Bruce remained on the mountain, he was not alone, but had his son with him and one of his daughter's boyfriends lived with him throughout the winter to help in the mine. When I would go up to the mountains on the week-ends I would find disaster there. Nothing had been done to the house; no dishes washed, no sweeping done, no cleaning of the cat boxes. The cats had begun to use the entire house as a cat box. Bruce allowed all of the cats to sleep with him and they had used his (our) bed as a cat box. It was gross. It took me all week-end to straighten things up again, and when I left for Debby's on Sunday nights I was exhausted and angry. I went up to the mountains less and less, but tried to keep up a relationship with Bruce with letters of encouragement.
On my last day of school, I was on my way to my last final when I saw Jared and Debby walking down the hill toward me. How surprised I was as Jared was in his military uniform. They sat me down and told me that Bruce had just been killed when he had a heart-attack while driving to Ramona from the mine. He went over the side of an embankment in order to avoid oncoming traffic as he became unconscious. He died heroically.
The BLM refused to have people live on the millsite after Bruce's death. After all, it was only he who could actually do the mining operation. So the family had to put the mine and millsite into its original condition; tear down the buildings, remove all of the equipment, and seal the mine so no one else could get into it. Today, after suffering three more forest fires to the exact area where we had lived, the millsite is invisible and the mine has caved in in sections.
It was a sad way to end the mining business, but we had met our goals: the children had been raised and learned a lot of skills; we had recovered a small amount of gold; and we had had a priceless adventure and learned how to survive in the wilderness. We still miss grandpa Bruce and we all miss the mountains, but life had to move forward and so we all went out and seized the world.
Tomorrow I am going to be talking about family love and acceptance.
By 1993 all of the children had moved out on their own and we had children spread across Iowa, Michigan, California, and New Jersey. The grandchildren were visiting the mine on weekends and holidays and life seemed like nothing would ever change. But I had changed. The years on the mountain had been hard on my physical and mental health. I began to dream of leaving the mountains and going back to school to finish my degree. Problem was, Bruce was dead set against leaving the mountain and he had no intention of letting me go either. He was a very controlling man and for the last ten years I had not been allowed to drive any car, or go off of the mountain by myself. Bruce insisted because the truck was in his name only that only he could drive it. I began to rebel and push him until he would allow me to go to the Banner Store once a month, all by myself. So many times I wished that I could just drive the car to Debby's house and live there.
As Bruce observed my struggle to get free of his tyranny, he became abusive in his treatment of me. We would go to visit one of his many friends and he would leave me sitting in the truck for hours, no matter what the weather or the temperature was. I was not allowed to move. My soul rose up in rebellion.
When I went to my next Psychologist's appointment, right in front of Bruce, I began to tell the doctor of my imprisonment up in the mountains and my fear of repercussions from Bruce if I decided to make a move on my own. The Doctor told me about a Social Security P.A.S.S. Program that was in place to help people like myself, on S.S.I., get training to get a job, start up their own business, or go back to college. The program paid for what you needed to get started up, in my case it was my own car so that I could go off of the mountain and continue my education near to my daughter, Debby.
Bruce went up in smoke at the idea, but the Doctor told me the name and phone number of the P.A.S.S. program director and told Bruce that if he interfered with my getting into the program, or didn't give the help that I needed to qualify for the program, that he was going to the authorities and file a complaint against him for imprisonment against my control. Bruce capitulated and began to really worry if I was going to leave him forever, or not. I tried to reassure him, but the process was hard and the more I got into it the more I knew I had to do this program and get off of the mountain or I would die. The program, the Pathway for Achieving Self Sufficiency, was marvelous and after gathering much data about college and the car I needed to be able to get off of the mountain and go to school, I was approved for the program and was given a grant-like program where I would receive a check for X amount of dollars each month and that was to go toward paying off a used car; every cent went into buying the car. Then I was obligated to get good grades in school and go full-time until I got my degree. I moved in with Debby for the week days and then went to the mountains for the weekend. I WAS FREE!
Bruce remained on the mountain, he was not alone, but had his son with him and one of his daughter's boyfriends lived with him throughout the winter to help in the mine. When I would go up to the mountains on the week-ends I would find disaster there. Nothing had been done to the house; no dishes washed, no sweeping done, no cleaning of the cat boxes. The cats had begun to use the entire house as a cat box. Bruce allowed all of the cats to sleep with him and they had used his (our) bed as a cat box. It was gross. It took me all week-end to straighten things up again, and when I left for Debby's on Sunday nights I was exhausted and angry. I went up to the mountains less and less, but tried to keep up a relationship with Bruce with letters of encouragement.
On my last day of school, I was on my way to my last final when I saw Jared and Debby walking down the hill toward me. How surprised I was as Jared was in his military uniform. They sat me down and told me that Bruce had just been killed when he had a heart-attack while driving to Ramona from the mine. He went over the side of an embankment in order to avoid oncoming traffic as he became unconscious. He died heroically.
The BLM refused to have people live on the millsite after Bruce's death. After all, it was only he who could actually do the mining operation. So the family had to put the mine and millsite into its original condition; tear down the buildings, remove all of the equipment, and seal the mine so no one else could get into it. Today, after suffering three more forest fires to the exact area where we had lived, the millsite is invisible and the mine has caved in in sections.
It was a sad way to end the mining business, but we had met our goals: the children had been raised and learned a lot of skills; we had recovered a small amount of gold; and we had had a priceless adventure and learned how to survive in the wilderness. We still miss grandpa Bruce and we all miss the mountains, but life had to move forward and so we all went out and seized the world.
Tomorrow I am going to be talking about family love and acceptance.
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