Central Sierra Seasons

SierraSeasons.com

Magazine Recreation Entertainment History Lifestyles The Arts

What are the chances that Sierra Seasons not only has the best photos and articles, but we also have great fiction? Perhaps we should ask instead: Who are the Chances?

Well, first of all, there's "Ohio" George Chance, who first arrived in Tuolumne County in 1852. Then there are his progeny, who continue living and making their mark on Tuolumne County during all the years that follow. While you won't find these people in real-life history books, their story might seem notably familiar.

The Chance family is a fictional composite of the hardworking families that have made Tuolumne County's history so rich.

Mark Stoltenberg has done a great deal of studying notable characters of our past, and turned his pen to create a cohesive narrative that is both enthralling and educational. Through the eyes of the Chance family, we have the chance to watch five generations of history unfold.

Over the years, Mark Stoltenberg has contributed some of his Chance family stories to Central Sierra Seasons Magazine.

Fathers and Sons

Fathers and Sons follows the Chance family from one generation to the next, connecting each era with the link of a son to his father. Seasons published these stories in four parts for four generations. The story begins in our Summer/Fall 2002 issue, and continues through Winter/Spring 2004. Below is an excerpt of this compelling story.

That split-second glimpse into the future – who could have seen that
summer of 1914 how baseball would lead me through four years of
engineering school at the University of California at Berkeley, then
back up for summers working on the Hetch Hetchy project, and playing
ball on camp teams up and down the line from Moccasin to Hoy Ranch?
It led me to my wife and all the joy that’s come from that chance
meeting.
Nor could we have seen - my father and me - that August evening in
1914 that our family was about to be torn in half.
Dyphtheria in Melones. The word reached us at the work camp at Priest
Station. We saddled and left with the last bit of daylight down the
horsekiller grade, then, by moonlight across through Jamestown, down
into the canyon and across the river.
My dear sister had passed away while we rode; our mother followed her
that afternoon.
We tried to gather ourselves. The pall on the town of Melones lay
heavy – so many families bearing their grief.
Following the service, Bill Hales drove in his automobile to
Groveland to retrieve my father’s team. It hurt to look at him next
to me in the back seat. All his life he’d been up on the driver’s box
or in the saddle of his wheel horse. Now, the oaks and bleached dry
hills flew past behind him. We were riding out a runaway.
As we started up Priest Grade, he reached over and held my hand, and
said, “Your classes start in three weeks. Let’s be sure you’re down
to Berkeley in time to settle in.”
We wrote faithfully, at first. I told him about the all grass
baseball diamond and all the excitement over the Hetch Hetchy project.
As young, eager engineering students, we were being told that we
stood at the threshold of a truly historic venture. The great Panama
Canal was ho-hum-passe’. Everybody wanted to hear about the Grand
Canyon of the Tuolumne.
The basic premise of the Hetch Hetchy Water project was as simple,
practical, and beautiful as was the Miner’s Ditch in my grandfather’s
time: harvest the Sierra snowmelt and direct the water where it’s
needed.
We were instructed to look into the future to resolve the mathematics
of growth in the city of San Francisco, as well as agricultural
needs, for water and electricity in the San Joaquin Valley. Drought
years, floods, fires, earthquakes – all would have to be anticipated
and dealt with.
Storage and control were the keys. We were instructed to look into
the future, and we could begin to see the Hetch Hetchy Valley as a
vast drinking gourd, spilling down water for generations to come. A
system forged and maintained by men, but perpetually powered only by
clouds and gravity!
Our graduating class of engineers in June, 1918, shared a camaraderie
that I’d only experienced on the baseball field. As devoted as we
were to the “Almighty Project” (as my father called it), there was
always time for baseball. With Chief O’Shaunnessy’s heartiest
blessing, we graded a horse pasture at the edge of Groveland and
fielded a team to compete in the Mother Lode League – Sonora,
Jamestown, Westside, Standard, Melones, and a few others. It was
always us against the world, and we liked it that way.
It was a ball game at Camp Mather that September that caused me to
board the train at 5:30 a.m. on the morning of the 29th. Everyone was
fumbling in the dark. I finally got my bat bag stored under my seat
and found myself seated across from Marjorie Whitfield. I felt
protective of a young lady traveling alone, and I tried to put her at
ease. Introducing myself, I told her I’d help build this stretch of
track and it would be a fine morning to watch the sunrise over the
Tuolumne Canyon.
She considered this, then said carefully, “ Don ’t you find it odd how
one can take joy in the magic of nature at the beginning of the day,
then spend the balance working to spoil it?”
That’s how our life together began. There we were – face to face – a
preservationist and a dammer with 187 miles of track ahead.
We passed a water tank, and I told her I’d helped place them – eight
of them – 100,000 gallons each for the steam engines from here down
to the Hetch Hetchy junction.

Almost Home

In this tale it's 1915 and Powell Chance is returning to Tuolumne County from San Fransisco where he caught a glimpse of our then future at the Panama Pacific International Exposition. This story observes the role Tuolumne County played in the larger economy, and the importance of our natural resources.

Five Aprils

Ohio Chance tells tales of the Aprils of the years 1861-1865. We get to see events of the American Civil War and the Restoration from our local perspective. We also witness the development of mining in the Eastern Sierra and other new uses of our resources, and touch on the racial relations of the time.

Index