Baumgartner Garcon Mc Masters is now a full-member of the New York-elite. A well-known business-entrepreneur, and teacher of the form, he is now a newly, hired professional deeding much-of his duties to handling the specific-’supply and demand’ of newly, begun industry/stock-promisseuration. Hired as research and discovery of funds for advance business-investors he reached a new-plateau; with leading the central-region of Philadelphia and now, works as a ongoing-officer of the NYSE and has investment from his-work as a practicing, theater-musician. My Bau, is quite an example of proofing as there are no-basic faults in my boys…
He has always been an active-duty-man; illuminates much about the exactness than any young-man, whom I have ever-known. He will-come visit his-mother on his days-off and inform-her of some of his-skills, that may rub-off. His-father is proud, reading aloud what he-writes not, always understanding that he is a proficient and not a-perceptionist… If Will wants to see the valuable, acuity from off his-oldest son then he will write him instead of poising, as the head-manager of Mc Masters surveys and having to take days-off to fish, and drink-beer.
Dear Diary,
My surgery has gone-well. I am 53 years old and I am not getting any younger, my-sisters are all in their later-years. But ennobling the justness of my-countrymen and women, and all that are-known. It has been a wonderful, joyous and noble-life. I am a grand-mother, aunt and mother yet I feel, I have reached my-twilight and need to pull those I love, closer for what may be the last of my-life. I have met with my-sisters only, once perhaps the last-time. I read the Parisien-Newpapier and stay-informed about the goings-on in my homeland yet I am an American and I would not go back to France. But alas, this country is not my-birthplace. If I could see my sisters, again. Especially, my youngest-one Patrice who was named after my aunt, as my-daughter. My belief and love in God, as in my homeland and in my long-life has been my blessing and hope and the devotion I’ve given all I have-known.
I hope one-day to be with mother and father. I have-not heard from my-sisters yet, in their visit years-back shows me that my family goes-on and my children will exist, after me. I shall stay-strong and stay a-’light’ to the world. I have met a nice black women, a nurse, who it seems her-soul is strong by her-suffering as a black-slave and a free-man; and as a dis-famed-individual her people go to church every Sunday and she sings gospel, while and where she cleans up her-patients and has great-feeling for those sick and ailing. I joined-in and sing with her, as I have heard some of her-songs in French. She says her favorite-songs are ‘Amazing Grace’ and ‘Swing-low’, she has a wonderful-voice carries a wonderful-note. I thank her every-time she voices into song and I have never felt so truly, attended-to unless, I hear her long solos.
I am returning home soon, the ship I will return to California is to pull into Pennsylvania harbor, soon. I hear the ships from my room at the clinic and many sailors visit their mothers or girlfriends, or brothers; are strong and forthright and have good-manners. I have met some of them and sat awhile discussing the thinking and ventures, of some and feel touched by their sincere-devotion to their-comrades and ladies. I have never been in a clinic, before. Our doctor back home merely, visits once a year which many back home assume its hypochondriacally. But Parsien doctors invest much time in-working to keep their clients healthy, safe and well-inspected… Involving, serious effort to deduce the healing and health, of everyone…
I have seen some of what my sisters say is the sophistication and illumination of the harbor-town… Though, I have lived here long ago, nothing seems, the same. Much has changed in-them, populating and improving-growth of people, prosperity and prospect… No doubt, developing a successive step-up; that gradually, altered the circumstance of ‘policies’ and places… Yet, I do not invite in the aspects of this-location but as well, the distinction of place is only, temporary. Those who-know the quarterlies of facet-and-figment will one-day, see that ‘essence’ and awareness is just the understanding-of understatement and the focus of fascination. This, is probably the fortune of so many who relocate; so self-vocal, seeing the betterment on other-shores and intending to seek, higher-standards.
Many of the people, whom I’ve known have-confused distance with direness… An advocate of suspicion which undo the true-deeming, relied upon by the thinking of confiding in instance, and enamoring. Committing-to a ‘vision’ of vestige, can mean a sacrifice to so much, ‘centrality’. That may lead to a-rift of undermining. I look-back and see so much, which has changed and how so many things, end at the hand-of ‘self-mission’. An integration-invading, the affording of ‘centralism’; and sovereignty of ‘self’-service. An ‘imposition’-of ‘inter’-involvement… An active, chance to-revisit the giving-over to fostering-of, unknown… How can I, look-back and see the pride and the price, of safety… The price may-have been to-abandon and see the ‘smallness’ of self-civility and the single, of shedding subversion…
…The utter-reward of so many-years in California has been splendid. Her offerings are, unbeatable. I arrived today in Los Angeles to warm, sun and pleasantness… Defining Her-beauty is very awkward, and has existed since my-arrival in 1843 with Will, who accompanied-me to our-house. We rode the long-road to town and noticed how the beach was opulent and the sea-breeze came in, and invited further-exploration. We wanted to stay all-day but life has its own-road and sometimes you have to go your own-way.
End
Seven
Dear Diary,
The official statement says; “All whom live in Los Angeles come to the town-hall to visit with the Governor of California to learn of new-railroad station to be build by Pacific and Atlantic train-companies. You are duly, requested to attend and there will be contracts given to area-business owners to buy needed supplies and the purchase of duty-goods. All are welcome …” I and Will have read the bill posted at the livery station, a number of times and still consider it quite, exciting. Just think of it. The east and west will be joined completely here in Los Angeles, California. Will wants to see if he can obtain a contract with their survey-team, and increase his-business output. For so long we have been only connected through ship and coach now travel will be joined forever to the other end of our continent.
The advancements, occurring these days have created immense-improvements some I never thought of or imagined. It has been told in the news-paper and over telegraph that they would be coming, yet the progress had only been assumed; now its certain… The change will effect so much of what will happen, soon. There has been increasing-visitors who must have been hired-in ahead of what was to come. People of many races and creeds have landed in out city. Yet still there are wealthy people told by the L.A. Times a rather new paper that there is a new-mission to forward the foundation of our city; to include the likelihood of homes and workplaces as the nice-climate makes for better-living and farming of fruits and crops brought-in once, deeded foreigners in the attempt to make for production of vegetable-goods.
California is the last-state to see before shipping-out to the Islands or Asia. I have never seen the Pacific overseas, yet in the improving-times theirs too, will be included-in the travels far-off... Some of the girls say sailors have seen all sorts of great-mysterious animals, people and places, beyond our waters. We can see whales from shore which some men say cap-sized ships. Seals, otters and other seas creatures are caught to sell for coats. Zack says hunting such things is worth much money. Will insists that killing for money and not survival is just plain unfair and men who do so are not worthy of our-lands. Yet these men were at-once individuals in search of a home and prosperity they found their livelihood, just as we. Yet today, more and more, people are leaving the ways of adventure for the privateer-of-profit. Men and women are paid good money to employ themselves, in the name of progress. It is beginning to make sense that other things as times show benefit without the irreverent, disability, of earnestness.
Learning, skills and professional
-propriety has the greater-good as the vestment of new-directions, understandings and ideas to gain the security of human-advancement. One day, my children and others will live-by the rules of human-destiny rather than the elements of harshness. Proving and undertaking greater-rules of society. As in my ancient-history of France and Europe, they will know the umbrage of living-benefit and the condition of community, affirm. In the variable-contention of so many people who now, and will; occupy the effort to liberate and deliberate the enrichment will prove, that expansion, will be for the good, of all.
September 18, 1872
Dear Diary,
I am going to return to studies, as a student. A Mr. Taylor; a professor who came west through the advances of travel has begun classes for all who would like to learn by-way of our Chamber of Commerce who see the coming-need to share knowledge with employees. He is a professor of science and gained his degree three years ago at Princeton. A very intelligent man, he once knew my son while interacting with other collegians… My Zack has, said he is one of his school’s oracle-students and proved his worth in advanced-studies and discipline. I wish to understand the new system rules and laws…
***I am getting tired of the growing ‘beneficial’ discipline, not-being aware of its fundamentals. As priorities change as my once ‘hefty’, studies; I will learn the ‘new world’ of education and gain-insight into the precepts, of the new-era of learning. I have a general-understanding, yet as for the policies, as when I attended has changed as the law of knowledge-to-hypothetic in, entered inciting. I have watched my Zack come-home and speak in the new terms and rules, of professors my twenty year younger; and listen as if the men were gods. It is quite, subtle to expect the regent-era of the precepts of a preemption, posturing. Yet I do-not want to pragmatic pretext, or pre-examinational, so overtly, to have apposing. The learning in-scholarship shouldn’t be handed-over in held-over holding-sufficiency. “Proper”, though schooling may-be the eyes, ears and hands of teaching shouldn’t just grasped like some ‘preachy’, forded-figments…
**If I-learn in this study, I will improve as much as I can. Ms. Calvin, the lady long-deceased was one-who taught me beyond means. No-teaching, though accomplished, can out-span the casual, discipline of self-dedication, intention and out-standing, vocation… Yet that was those-times and this, is the proving-of these. Not possible, without those who gave-more for the advancement of people as the self-deeming, a-bridge… I remember all the learning; the perceptions, meditations and focuses of theory yet the redeeming, value as I graduated, and moved-on was the manner in-which the applying of those who-understand, and have quite, interpretative-mission; went into the relaying of the assertive-focus, of ‘self’-proctor. In the definition, of resigning-future in going-out and using it-in the world. I see as the class-left in-matriculation; that standards-change but the impression of-logic, discipline and allotting courageous to use-it; meaning-fully, valuing and beneficently for all and in the purpose-of all.
**It is a summer’s day, when I arrived from the small building-classroom, which served as ‘well’ for the young-professor and his-students and teachings. We are learning of new-studies skills and understanding of what he-gave examining. It was a small group-of people, as many are unlearned of architecture, the new-mathematic oracle and other developmental-visions and of defining-issues and a new-area; Advance-Politics. Thought-important back East as the new-parties and government move-forward and the new people-issues shown-in, Sociology.
**He seemed to-think much of it was oriented around theory, philosophy, religion and war. He is a talented-man but his-era seems to not-consider that much has been founded-on design and discipline yet so much has changed perhaps, for the better. I will try-to listen and contend with the new-founding which were wanting or had not-been expanded and exposed on the essence-of academics. Yet, one thing I did understand, was that people-issues designed on changing-events, which alter the-conditions of ‘wants’, ‘needs’ and fundamental-values… I listened and felt-that human-struggles are based-on resources that gain-and-lose; the fabric-of-prosperity; and reinvents itself and preside-on the requiem of sensitive-’semantics’ and ‘modality’-of fundamental, affirm.
~~The nice-weather which as, in-years past; are aspects which are dimensions I have always, enjoyed… I sit-in the sun and feel the warmth. And ride down to the beach and see the ocean and smell the salty-air. I traveled-down the shore and visited some of my Mexican friends who have large-families and do-not live with the European-Americans. They migrated to America or were descended from Spanish Conquerors and saw no-reason to leave. We drank red-wine and ate dispacho which taste quite interesting and gratifying. They speak in simple-English terms and have quite good-insight. Their-families lived eighty and ninety-years, in this area. They-say the French are people of unique-umbrage; a grand-father fought in the Spanish-Franco war, and did not like killing such brave-men.
**He says the Americas is for sick, rich men who can not find their way. He told a story about gold, and it is one type of story I am well, aware. We talked into the afternoon, and after, we drank up the wine I headed home. They said we should meet again and bring my husband. I rarely, have seen the beach in all my-living here but as I realize its beauty, I will visit more often… It is amazing how things change-without, notice and how time gradually, involves the gentle, evolution of living-things…
Will has come down sick, in a strange new-illness. He has been seen by a doctor-of the condition, which has moved to California, as the need for better-treatment. He is French-taught and learned, in many fields. He came to be a registered-surgeon but found that America is more a place of specialist-need. He is quite wealthy and invites the Mayor, and other leaders to dinner in his big-house, overseeing the ocean… He grows grapes and figs, at his quite elegant-home. He is talented in painting and spends his weekends playing the piano. As he tends to my husband I feel very, assured that he will cure, my Will.
I watch Will asleep, his long red-hair, graying from the sun and still, as flamed as when we crossed the Great-Divide… He has shared with me, the elements-of-storm, trouble and crisis; always steadfast and willing. He is the man, I will remain married for the rest of my life… I, sometimes imagine, what he is dreaming about yet I think he has better waking-hours. He has told me about his family and their childhood-together, and how they all agreed to move across the ocean and live-in America. In times, that were hard and fast. He told me of times when they worked for pennies, all day to buy a dozen potatoes; which with his large family, lasted three days with cut-down meals… He said, when he could no-longer share what he had with all done… His brothers who stayed by him for-life, would not see anyone of them be separated or left, forlorn.
Their mother who could no longer keep them, in conscience, so-demanded they go to America and find a better-life… She has died some three-decade, ago. Will, was told she died not wanting and sent a letter to her oldest son Patrick; which he sent and was received up to three-years later. He whelped, sometime and he was never as hungry, again. I will feed him soup and his favorite food; apples, he has loved apples as the staple of stuffs once loaded in the wagon-train, west.
He will always be the man I love, and the heroic man who will not let others suffer… I will show him my places I’ve discovered; and when he is well, we shall ask Dr. Taylor to lunch, he will be-delighted to meet such a man of such potential.
September 25, 1872
Dear Diary,
A strange, out at-sea storm is expected to hit our shores, the sailors say the white-storms, are coming-in. Many ships have been caught-in them, and the ones that out-ran it say it is as big as two-hundred ships… They have had to rescue the sailors, who have been wrecked. Our leaders say we should go home and stay-in the cellar and wait-it out. Many of our town’s folk don’t have cellars so they will stay in the large church build by the pastor and twenty parishners. As we walked home, we watched in the di
stance as the menacing-clouds moved slowly, in. By early afternoon, it began to rain and have loud-clashing of clouds. We were locked in our cellar when rain came-down in torrents and water hit our house and pebbles…
We heard our horses and livestock-wrestle in the barn. Will, assured me that they were safe. The cellar shutter-doors went back-and-forth; but our steel-bolt and metal-frame held… By nightfall the front-head of the storm known as a ‘typhoon’ had hit in full-force and after it had passed the destruction, had been extreme. The house in which we lived had been torn apart, much of the house we exposed and the roof was nearly thrown onto the ground… We looked-in at the animals, and they were safe and quiet. When we went into town we saw strewn, debris and dead-animals who had run-away from their owner’s property…
Many people had went looking for their many livestock, who’d been missing. It was obvious that so much had been ruined. The paper, the next-day had said it was one of the worst storms of the decade… It headed in-land were many thought it would hit the mountains and bring immense snow-storms. Anyone up-by Donner’s Pass at that time would be inundated with snow-fall… Some had thought that the roads west would be washed-out… So the leaders sent telegram to other areas telling them of the situation.
I hurried Will home, and we began to clean-up the property and clear-land, of loss. A week-later the newspaper said that over a hundred-people had lost their lives up in the Sierra Nevada. With all the rain, mudslides and shifting dirt had made the area impassable… We tried to help as much as we could be regained… Many people were un-employed and had to find housing, by-rent. The majority, had declared a depressed-area; due to the unsecured-region… Within weeks, the military had arrived and joined by farmers and workers from all-around the state. Los Angeles always an abundant town since gold and traffic easily, paid for their damages. The militia was thanked for their-service and was given supplies and small-amounts of funds for their-time…
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