We went back to Coloma yesterday. There’s something here I felt connected to: maybe it’s the Sierras, maybe it’s the discovery of gold, maybe it’s the serenity after the madhouse of the gold rush.
While standing in front of the Sutter Mill, where in 1848 the first gold flake was found that started an era; how excited Marshall must have been, how nervous Sutter must have felt to lose his workers, and his dream of building a utopian city, over gold. Sutter’s dream was his utopian city, not finding gold, so he walked away, didn’t make any money from the gold discovery. After all, that was his choice, as his heart was not in the gold. Marshall was handed the golden spoon of being the founder of the Gold Rush, though he ended up making no money from it. He ended up back being a carpenter.
By contrast, Hiram Young, a former slave with a great business mind started his wagon business at that time. He not only freed himself from slavery, but also made his own fortune from supporting the businesses of gold mining. Just like Levi Strauss, who created the denim clothing needed by the miners. When a new “gold rush” starts, don’t just rush to dive in and starts digging, instead, pick your position, stake your claim with what you uniquely have to offer. That’s a classic case study for business school classrooms.
On our way to Marshall’s monument, we saw a quaint building called “Olde Coloma Theatre”. What a unique experience created here: after being immersed in the gold rush history during the daylight, diving into the dramatized show staged in the tiny one room theater, then walking out into the starry-night of Sierra Mountains.
Outside the theater, we saw the sign: Highway 153 The shortest California State. I searched and it’s half a mile long. At the end of highway 153, we saw the Marshall Monument, where Marshall standing on top of the hill, overlooking Coloma. It was he who gave Coloma, if not California and even a young United States of America, a new start, even though he didn’t benefit from it.
We also visited Marshall’s cabin, which was his third one. Appropriately, a very humble but practical existence, like himself. It sits across from the Coloma Catholic Cemetery, supposedly containing 70-80 graves (many of the wooden markers have long gone).
Our last stop was Pioneer Cemetery. I love the name, especially after reading the sign telling of the two murderers that hanged here as a double hanging, made it even more interesting. In 1855, more than 5000 people gathered here to witness the double hanging of the murderers: Mickey Free and Jeremiah Crane. Even now, the population of Coloma is only less than 300. It’s here where those pioneers, who followed their hearts, chased their dreams; also the prostitutes along with those murders, all ended up. They all sleep here after all that, in this quiet corner of the Sierra.
The gate of cemetery was already locked for the day, but as I walked in between the old tombstones, most of the carvings having been eaten by time and nature, barely readable, I gathered what I can: most of them died very young, not surprising for that time; also, quite a few family plots, with a little fence circling in all the loved ones. After all, love is all that matters and travels through time!
Walking down the hill, I was reflecting on my day’s tour at Coloma, as if it were a microcosm of a Life, an Era, a Dream. We are all given a chance here with time and space to fulfill, how do you make out of it?
