“Oh my, he’s a handsome fellow,” Mara said. She looked up at Patrick’s face, startled once again by his smoldering eyes. She looked away before she lost herself in his gaze. “Do you mind if I pet him?”
“Of course. My boy loves the pretty ladies.”
Mara blushed. For a moment she wondered if Patrick brought Sammy around many pretty ladies. She imagined that he probably did. She couldn’t have been the first woman to notice Mr. Deane’s handsome face.
“Oh, yes, Sammy is a good old boy. I should get him set up in the paddock with his dinner, but let’s get you settled inside first.”
He took her bags and walked to the front porch. Two white columns surrounded the entryway. A wooden swing sat underneath a large arch window. Colorful flowerpots swayed under the eaves. A middle-age woman opened the front door and smiled, and the aroma of baked goods drifted past. Mara’s stomach rumbled in hunger. Patrick introduced Mara to Mrs. Sarah Levy. Thick, gold-rimmed spectacles magnified dark blue eyes. Her salt and pepper hair was done up in a large bun. A floral apron was tied around her plump waist.
Patrick gave Mrs. Levy a quick retelling of the incident at the Embarcadero. Her eyes widened as he described Mara holding her own against the assailant with her hatpin.
“Oh, my poor girl. Just arrived in the city and you’re already fighting for your life! San Francisco is becoming overrun with meshugas.”
Mara looked up, startled.
“What I mean to say is…well…there are crazy, dangerous people everywhere in this town. You have to be careful. I’m glad you know how to protect yourself.” She smiled approvingly. “Sounds like you have a good head on your shoulders. And a pretty one too! Come on in and warm yourself by the fire.”
Mrs. Levy led Mara to a large fireplace at the back of the parlor where family photographs covered the mantel. The warmth of the flames eased her shivering body. “My grandson, David, will bring your bags up for you.” A few moments later, a tall, lanky boy came down the steps. He had a mop of curly hair and dark blue eyes like his grandmother. He smiled shyly and introduced himself. His polite, easygoing attitude made Mara take to him at once. They took a quick tour of the bottom floor, which lead to a comfortable parlor, dining room and kitchen.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Miss McClain?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”
Mrs. Levy brought over two porcelain cups from the cupboard and set them on a table in the kitchen. Both women took their seats
“Your house is lovely.”
“Oh, I’m glad you like it. I don’t like to boast, but we do have one of the finest boarding homes in town. My husband, Jacob, God rest his soul, built it with his own two hands.” She smiled proudly. Miss Levy poured steaming tea into the cups, offering cream and sugar.
“How long have you lived in San Francisco?”
“Oh, well, let me see. A while. Our journey started in the spring of 1850.We traveled by covered wagon, down the California Trail. There was no choice but to sell most of our belongings before the trip. The load needed to be light, it’s hard on the horses otherwise.” She smiled with a far off look.
Mara nodded with interest. Mrs. Levy took a deep breath and went on.
“My husband and I were newlyweds, just starting out on our own. Mr. Levy had recently inherited some savings from his father. It gave us the means to travel and start over in a new city. We decided to try our luck in San Francisco. There was so much to do before we left; we had to pare down our possessions for the long wagon ride. We discussed what was most important to us—what to sell, what to give away, what to keep. My husband brought along his carpentry tools packed in an old cedar chest. Mr. Levy came from a long line of carpenters. Many generations of Levy practiced the trade. He’d worked with his father in the family business back in our hometown in Idaho.
“Well, I brought along my hope chest, a wedding present. Inside were a few family quilts, photographs, my wedding dress, and an antique silver brush and mirror. I had three homespun dresses, which I washed between wearing. The wagon train often camped by rivers and lakes along the trail. We used the water for cooking, bathing, and cleaning. It was quite an adventure, and a long, difficult journey. My husband and I had joined a wagon train over near Fort Hall along the Snake River. It’s good that we left when we did. We were able to bypass some storms that season.
“We made sure to time our trip so we wouldn’t be caught in the snow. You see there was a terrible incident that took place back in’46. This was a few years before our journey. A group of travelers were trapped by a heavy snowfall in Truckee, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I believe they called themselves The Donner-Reed Party, if I remember correctly. Their wagons couldn’t get through the storm. The poor souls were low on supplies. Quite a few starved to death. Only about half of them made it to California. Good Lord, I heard that some of the travelers resorted to cannibalism.” She shuddered. “Thankfully, we were luckier than that. We left earlier in the season and avoided most of the heavier snow.
“We traveled along the California Trail, through the Nevada desert, down the Sierra Nevada Range. Oh, the heat was terrible in the desert. It was more than anything we could have ever imagined. Afterwards we boasted that we had seen the elephant, meaning we hit some hard traveling for sure.
“So many stories…good and bad, but I’ll have to wait to tell you about those tales another day,” she smiled.
“It was such a relief when we finally made it to San Francisco. We were both exhausted from the journey, but no sooner had we arrived than I began to wonder if we had made a terrible mistake.”
Mara added a splash of cream to her cup with a spoonful of sugar. She blew away the steam as Miss Levy continued her tale.
“The little town of San Francisco had grown from a few hundred residents to over twenty-five thousand by the time we had arrived in the spring of 1850. California had recently joined statehood in the Union. It was such an amazing time. I’m sure you’re familiar with all of the exciting stories of the 49ers seeking their fortunes. People sure did have the Gold Fever.”
“Yes. I’ve read about the Gold Rush in newspapers back home,” Mara remarked.
“Everyone had dreams of striking it rich in the Sacramento River, down by Sutter’s Mill. Businesses were thriving in San Francisco. There were makeshift hotels, gambling halls, and mercantile stores. Entrepreneurs were eager to take advantage of all the new arrivals and their gold dust. Oh, dear, there were even brothels being built. Everything was so strange and exotic compared to our hometown.”
Mara nodded and smiled. She took a sip of tea. “My cab passed a building called Lola’s Ladies,” she said blushing. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Mrs. Levy rolled her eyes and nodded.
“Did you and your husband ever try to mine for gold?” Mara asked.
“Oh, no, dear. Thank goodness Mr. Levy never had any interest in gold hunting. He had another idea on how to make our fortune. When we first arrived, we met families returning from the Sacramento Valley. They told us stories of their gold seeking adventures and some were quite disturbing. The winter of ‘49 was harsh. Miners suffered from the elements, from cold and disease. Vegetables and fruit were hard to come by. Scurvy struck many of them. Some were so weak they could barely walk. The miners risked their lives when they made their way back to San Francisco.
“Robbers would sometimes ambush them along the trail. They hid their gold dust under horse saddles, in food containers, coffee pots. You name it. We met one family who told us that they had bagged up some of their gold and hid it inside their toddler’s diaper. Oh, my goodness. Can you imagine? What a crazy time.
“The men that returned all had different stories. Some came back with real fortunes. Others were destitute. Some prospectors wanted to settle down after their first trip to Sacramento. Some struck it rich and then lost their money in the city’s gambling halls or by other foolish ventures. They would return to Sacramento and s
tart all over again, but gold mining was not an easy way of life. You know, it’s funny; I think the smartest ones were the shopkeepers. They sold supplies to the miners. The prices went up as more and more people arrived into town. I heard they were selling picks and shovels for bags of gold dust. The merchants were richer than the gold prospectors!”
“Well, anyway, when they returned, housing was difficult to find, sometimes impossible. There were a few hotels, mostly pre-fab buildings; most of them with just sheets separating the rooms. People leased out all kinds of places to sleep in or on. I even heard some rented saw horses for beds! The miners took what they could get. They were desperate. And oh, the prices they charged the renters! Obscene! Some places would charge by the cot. Strips of muslin dividing rooms, if they were divided at all. Privacy was a rare find. And people were willing to pay just about anything, even for an old dirty mattress. Oh Lord, and there were vermin too. Lice, fleas, rodents. She shuddered. “People had to cover themselves up so the rats wouldn’t bite them in their sleep. It was so awful.
“My husband’s predictions came true. Lodgings were few and far between. Word got round about his carpentry skills. Soon, families were offering gold dust to help build their homes, sometimes even gold nuggets! Can you imagine?
“Well our first few years were definitely challenging, but we were lucky compared to most. My husband and I were able to purchase a nice plot of land. It’s the same lot where our house rests today. We’d become good friends with a family in the neighborhood. They were fed up with the wild lifestyle of San Francisco. The husband did quite well for himself mining. They tried to settle down in the city but changed their minds after a few months and wanted to move back east. They sold us their land for pennies on the dollar. We were humbled. And it was lucky we purchased when we did. Real-estate prices were becoming outrageous.
“Jacob set up a tent with spruce beams and thick canvas—just one large room. He built us a bed, a table—bought us a small stove. We kept it outside underneath an awning. There was a wooden outhouse in the backyard and another small tent to do our washing and bathing. My husband added a paddock for our horses to shelter them too. He was so busy building those first few months he barely had time to sleep.
“Eventually, everything started to take shape. It was pretty dry that first summer, dust everywhere, on our clothes, the furniture, even our food. You’d wipe it down and it would come back the same day. We prayed for rain. Our prayers were answered, but the relief didn’t last long. Then came the mud. The constant traffic of men, animals, wagons cutting up the streets to make giant sinkholes. Why, you were in danger of sinking and never coming back up again! I remember a time when a couple men left one of the saloons up on Kearny Street. They fell into one of the sinkholes and barely made it out alive. I read all about it in the Alta Vista, our one and only news source in the city. The paper was full of crazy stories like that!
“Residents tried to fill in the mud holes. We didn’t have anything like them paved streets you see today. The city purchased large quantities of brush in an attempt to fill the muddy roads. City employees would throw it down into the sinkholes, but it didn’t help much. People were so desperate for solid ground. All kinds of rubbish tossed into the streets and sidewalks—garbage, old furniture, sinks, you name it. Ground got firmer and walkways were built up over the debris.
“About the same time, ships came in with more people, supplies, and building materials. My husband and his new partner, Isaac Collins, were excited to get to work building new homes, but they ran into a very big problem. They had to find a way to get their supplies. Ship crews were abandoning their vessels to seek their own fortunes in Sacramento. Soon, the beautiful bay had turned into a ship graveyard. The giant hulks were left out to rot where they were anchored. What a sight!
“Well, for a short time, things seemed to settle down. Supplies were eventually brought to shore. Many of the ships never made it back to sea. Some of ‘em ended up being used as boarding houses and stores after they were hauled to shore. Gold dust was flowing into town. Jobs were abundant. Anyone willing to work could get hired.
“My husband and his partner started building pre-fab houses. Their first homes were simple constructions, square boxes really, but they were better than the makeshift tents and shanty rooms many of the residents were living in around town. They hired a nice crew and soon had several homes going up at once, including ours. We added onto our home as the business grew. I can’t tell you what a joy it was to have solid walls again! Homes in our neighborhood were springing up around us. We made friends with a couple of families in the area. Now, at the time, men far outnumbered women and children. It was always nice when you could find a family to spend time with…like our neighbor, Rachel Connor.
“Her husband worked at the mercantile down the street. They had a young daughter and another on the way. The poor family was sleeping in a drafty tent downtown. It was heartbreaking; I offered them a room for rent. They paid what they could, and Rachel helped around the house, cooking meals and helping with the chores.
“Word spread that we had extra space in our house and we had so many offers. It was nice to be able to pick and choose from the more respectful renters. The lodgers paid nicely, and between my husband’s contracted work and our boarders, we were able to continue to build onto our home, eventually fashioning it into the Greek Revival you see today.”
“I’m not familiar with the Greek Revival Style,” Mara interrupted.
“Well, it was very popular in the fifties. The tiled red roof, stucco walls, front porch and attic are some of the features that make our home unique. All of the bedrooms in our house have large windows with Juliet balconies. The parlor and living areas have arched windows. One of my favorite additions is the column feature surrounding the porch.
“Our neighbors’ were quite taken with the design. Mr. Levy was barely finished remodeling our home when the neighbors started asking him to add onto their houses. Yes, we did well in those years. As better building materials became available, my husband and his partner was able to work on more sophisticated architectural projects.
“My husband eventually added a large room underneath our house. It made a wonderful root cellar. I planted a little garden out back. It was a challenge, but I finally managed to purchase a few hens and an old rooster. So we had fresh eggs whenever we wanted. And we were happy to share them with our tenants and the neighbors. The price of eggs was so steep back then, sometimes a dollar an egg! What a luxury!
“Well, pretty soon, Mr. Levy and I fell in love with our girls. They were wonderful pets. We never had the heart to cull them for dinner, even when they stopped laying. Even our old, cranky rooster was safe,” she said. “I eventually gave up meat all together. Being Orthodox Jews, we kept to a kosher diet. My husband and I already avoided pork and shellfish. So, giving up the remaining meats wasn’t that difficult for us.
“I still have a few hens left, offspring from the original flock. I hope you like eggs, dear. We always provide fresh eggs for breakfasts. I like to think it makes up for not serving meat.
Mara smiled, nodded, “I love fresh eggs. A vegetarian diet sounds interesting. I’ll be happy to try it. Do you ever get any complaints from renters about not serving meat?” she asked.
“Every once in awhile I’ll hear a grumble or two, but I always explain our policy to the boarders before they lease their rooms. It seems that most of them get used to it fairly quickly. And if they don’t, they have a variety of restaurants to choose from around town.
“Well, anyway, Jacob eventually added an upstairs wing with the extra money we earned. Seven bedrooms altogether. We figured that once the children came, our boarding business would end. Yes, we had dreams of filling our home with lots of babies.” She smiled sadly. “But, the good lord had other plans. Our daughter, Ruth, was our first and only child.
“My God, it’s strange to think of all that happened those first years. You know, I forgot to mentions the fire
s.”
Mara looked up with wide eyes. “I heard there were fires in San Francisco. Did any of them get close to your home?”
“Well dear, we were very lucky. As I said before, hotels and buildings were springing up throughout the city. There were quite a few new constructions on Kearny Street. A devastating fire happened before we arrived. It ignited on the early morning of Christmas Eve, 1849. It started down by the plaza, Dennison Exchange, and made its way down Kearny and Washington, eventually down to Montgomery Street—took out homes, hotels, gambling halls. Many lives were lost and people injured, but an even bigger fire was set in the spring off ‘50.
“My family and I were very fortunate. The fires didn’t reach our neighborhood. We found out later that arsonists were responsible. It was an opportunity to loot and cause chaos. The townspeople were angry and wanted them punished, but justice didn’t come soon enough. Eventually, a group of citizens decided to take matters into their own hands. They called themselves The San Francisco Committee of Vigilance. Suspects were being rounded up, tried, and sentenced the same day. Men were hung in the town’s square. It was a terrible time of violence and unrest.
“Life in San Francisco seemed to be settling down the last few years, but then the trains arrived. Now, we’re dealing with a whole new danger,” she sighed.
“What danger is that?” Mara asked in fascination, sipping her last drop of tea, eager to learn about her newly adopted city. She had no idea she would be getting so many facts on her first night.
“Well,” Mrs. Levy answered sadly, “the problems are old ones—ignorance and prejudice.
“Chinese laborers are being blamed for the rising unemployment in this town. The same kind of thing happened to Spanish-Americans during the Gold Rush. There were terrible crimes against them during those first few years. You see, they were seen as a threat, that the Spanish miners were competing for the gold.
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