Another Winter Storm

With a weather forecast of heavy rain — which started today, through next Wednesday, it’s not looking good for plans to tackle Devil’s Canyon Road this weekend.

I do have makeup refills to pick up at the mall this weekend, before the orders gets cancelled. So, hopefully there’s a lull long enough to let me venture out.

The good news is, I made a fortuitous mistake and placed the order with a store in a mall other than my preferred location. The mall I mistakenly placed the orders with is one I can reach by street travel, no traversing the freeway in a storm required and I’ll be able to put in some walking miles as this mall is covered, while my preferred mall is not.

The fact this fortunate mistake was made kind of takes me out of the "Trouble Trouble Boil and Bubble" worrying frame of mind and into thinking that "All Things Work Together for Good" — that what looks bad on the surface, a mistake, may be a step in the right direction.

At any rate, curious as to how Devil’s Canyon Road got it’s name, I did a little research and learned a man by the name of Daniel Sexton, who arrived here in 1841, was working for a Colonel Isaac Williams on Williams’ Chino Ranch.

Now Williams had been an Indian Fighter. He fought as a Captain under General Andrew Jackson "Old Hickory", along with Davy Crockett and Sam Houston in the Creek War, involving the Muscogee, the Choctaw (my people), Cherokee Nations, and Lower Creeks faction of the Muscogee — whoever they were.

The "hostilities" ended in 1814 with the signing of the treaty of Ford Jackson when Andrew Jackson "forced" the Creeks to "surrender" more than 21 million acres in what is now southern Georgia and central Alabama.

Stolen land, which has nothing to do with how Devil’s Canyon Road got its name, but was so interesting that I thought I’d add it in.

Back to Daniel Sexton working for Colonel Williams ...... one day Williams told Sexton he was tired of eating meat, and craved vegetables. He sent Sexton and two of "his Indians" (slaves???) to survey a road so that they might get up to timber lands, and there cut trees for fencing, so that he (Williams) could keep cattle out of a vegetable garden.

Sexton had not gone far when one of the Indians was bitten by a rattlesnake and died.

Sexton and the remaining Indian continued up the canyon, found a feasible route for the proposed road and, as they returned, the second Indian was also fatally bitten by another snake.

The Indian yelled "El Diablo" as he died, and so the Canyon received the name Devil’s Canyon and the path, from the college to the top, Devil’s Canyon Road.

At least that’s Sexton’s story as to why he started off with two Indians, then there were none.

I personally don’t believe him.

My spidey sense is telling me Sexton did something dastardly to the Indians and the yelling of "El Diablo" was that Indian's dying words towards Sexton — calling him the devil for having murdered the first Indian and now him, the second.

So other than exposing Sexton as an 18th Century serial killer, I’ve been a bit of a bookworm.

After sitting on the Faun of Grey Gardens for months, I started reading it early last week — around the 10th. Such an engrossing read that I couldn’t put it down. Finished reading a few days later … on the 17th.

Due to her many cruelties to Jerry, I ended up not liking Little Edie very much.

Yet another example of how it so often is that "No good deed goes unpunished". I never could or would have extended to Little Edie the patience and kindness Jerry did.

I also couldn’t believe Jerry gave a shoutout to his parents in the Acknowledgment — parents who did nothing for him besides giving birth and a terrible childhood.

At any rate, investigating online, I see the house still stands — though looking at photos of the renovation, it looks nothing like the house formerly inhabited by the Beales.

Little Edie passed away in 2002, while Jerry is pretty much all that’s left of that interesting saga.

Looking at Jerry’s Instagram page, I see that he just had (on February 6th) an event with the book’s co-author Tony Maietta. So, with his stoneware business, continuing book sales and related events, it all came together in good for Jerry.

Judging by the book title, this life of George Dawson — the grandson of slaves, turns out well. But the start of the book is so triggering that I don’t think I’ll get far enough to get to the good part.

First few pages begin with an incident much like the unaliving of Emmet Till — a crowd of angry Whites dragging an innocent Black man through the streets to the hanging tree because of a lie.

A young White girl, pregnant by her White boyfriend, lies and says the teenage Black farmhand is the father of the child.

Why?

Who knows. Especially since, when the child is born, everyone will see it’s a White baby, no color in it.

Which is exactly what happened. A White baby was born and there was not a care the girl had lied and caused the torture and death of an innocent young Black man.

The book, thus far, is too disturbing. So, I think I’ll get rid of it — drop it off at the Library.

It’s banned it some states, so I’ll drop it in the slot and let the Library do as they will with it, if it's banned here as well.

I’m not without reading material because Walter Mosley's latest book, which I preordered months ago, arrived in yesterday’s mail.

Most all of Mosley’s book are page turners, this one will be especially so as it's a continuation of Mosley's earlier novel — Down the River Unto the Sea, and solves the mystery of who it was that framed former NYPD Investigator Joe King Oliver for rape of a White woman, sending Oliver to Rikers prison.

Art imitating life, but this one isn't triggering because Joe King survived Rikers, became a Private Detective and is now about to take names, kick some arse.