Uncle John’s Unsinkable Bathroom Reader (37 page)

Many of San Francisco’s leading citizens were men who had struck it rich during the gold rush of 1849 and had managed to hang onto their money since then. They weren’t the kind of fellows who took to the hills chasing every rumor of a new strike. But seeing the newly minted bullion in the offices of Walsh’s bankers made believers out of everyone, and soon they, too, were on their way over the Sierra Nevadas. By the first week of November, when snowfall blocked the mountain passes for the rest of the winter, several hundred people—from the wealthiest speculators to the lowliest prospectors—had made their way to the area and were riding out the winter in tents or whatever shelter they could improvise.

Mining the surface gold and silver out of a deposit like the Comstock Lode is easy enough: the ore was so soft, in fact, that it could be mined with just a shovel. But once all the surface ore is gone and prospectors have to start digging deeper into the earth to get at the rest, mining becomes a much more dangerous and expensive proposition. And who knew how long the rich deposit would hold out? Each time the prospectors lifted a spadeful of ore, they faced the very real prospect of finding nothing but worthless dirt or rock underneath.

The thinking among experienced prospectors was that the best way to profit from a lucky strike was to sell out
before
the limits of the strike had been discovered—hopefully at top dollar to feverish
investors foolish enough to think the good times would last forever. So when the big money boys from San Francisco rolled into camp, many of the original claim holders sold out for what must have seemed like obscene profits at the time and happily went on their way.

Pat McLaughlin sold his claim for $3,500. His partner, Peter O’Reilly, held out the longest of all the original stakeholders, eventually selling out for $40,000, after collecting about $5,000 in dividends.

Henry Comstock sold his claim to Judge Walsh for $11,000 and used the money to open mercantile stores in Carson City and Silver City, both of which he hoped would profit from the mining trade he’d helped create. No such luck—both stores failed. Comstock spent the rest of his life roaming the American West, looking for a second mother lode. No luck there, either. In September 1870, Comstock—by now broke, broken, and mentally deranged—committed suicide in Bozeman, Montana.

Old Virginny, the man who made the first discovery, was also one of the very first to sell out, reportedly surrendering his interest in the mine for “an old horse, worth about $40, and a few dollars in cash.” Another version of the story says he got a couple of blankets and a bottle of whiskey in the bargain as well. It didn’t make much difference either way—Old Virginny wouldn’t have lived long enough to enjoy his riches even if he’d gotten any. In the summer of 1861, he was thrown from a bucking mustang while drunk and died from head injuries a few hours later.

But Old Virginny does have another claim to fame. According to local legend, in an earlier drunken escapade he fell down and shattered a whiskey bottle. As he watched the contents soak into the dirt, he rose to his feet and proclaimed, “I baptize this ground Virginny.” And the town that grew up around and on top of the Comstock Lode was named Virginia City in his honor.

Part III of the rags-to-riches-to-rags-to-riches-to-rags story of the Comstock Lode is on page 338
.

From the Dustbin of History, the story of an American colony that didn’t quite make it, brought to you by BRI historian and master spy Jeff Cheek
.

Y
OU CAN’T GET THERE FROM HERE
Most American students are taught that the first two permanent English colonies in America were Jamestown, Virginia, founded in l607, and Plymouth, Massachusetts, established in l620. They’re also taught that Jamestown and Plymouth became the nucleii of the first two of the thirteen original British colonies. Their hardy pioneers survived famine, disease, and conflicts with the Native Americans to found what eventually became the United States of America.

Few students (and possibly only the most dedicated American-history buffs) are aware that another successful colony—the Popham Colony—was established in Maine
before
Plymouth. Its demise is difficult to understand, since the colony was fairly well managed, safe, and well-supplied. The other two defied all logic by hanging on; Popham didn’t. The reason? Popham’s boss got a better offer.

In May l607, as Jamestown was being settled, two ships carrying l20 colonists sailed from England, headed for Maine’s Kennebec River. The
Gift of God
arrived on August l3, the
Mary and John
three days later. Leading the expedition was an aging nobleman, Governor George Popham, nephew of Sir John Popham, Lord Chief Justice of England and one of the mission’s chief financiers. Second in command was a naval officer named Raleigh Gilbert (nephew of famed explorer Sir Walter Raleigh), described by historians as ambitious, brash, and arrogant—and just 25 years old.

Within two months of their arrival they had built Fort St. George, a large walled fort, inside of which were no fewer than 18 buildings, including a storehouse for supplies, a governor’s house, a blacksmith’s shop, and homes for colonists. Land was cleared and planted. Shipwrights even used local timber to construct a 50-foot ship called the
Virginia
—the first English-built ship in the New World. Popham was a thriving colony with a bright future.

Many of the Popham settlers were English gentlemen who had simply come along for the adventure. When the
Gift of God
sailed back to England in December, almost half the colonists went home—a comfortable English estate was preferable to a bitter Maine winter in a stockade. But all those who remained made it through to spring…except Popham himself, who died in February 1608. Compare that to Jamestown, where more than half of the 104 settlers died before the first winter had passed.

Popham’s death made Raleigh the colony’s new governor…and he did a pretty good job. He used the
Virginia
to fish for cod and to map the rocky coastline, established at least some trade with the local Abenaki tribe, shipped the goods back to England (the whole point of establishing colonies), and reportedly kept the colonists in high spirits through the summer and in the face of winter’s return. Then, in September, another ship arrived…and the news it brought was the death knell for Popham Colony.

Gilbert was notified that his elder brother, John, had died, leaving him an enormous estate—including a castle—in Devonshire, England. He had a choice: He could stay in Maine and develop the colony, or return home as Sir Raleigh, Lord of the Manor. He chose the latter, and the colonists, having lost two leaders in one year, had apparently had enough. They decided to go back to England, too. With that, Popham Colony was done…and was soon forgotten. If they’d held on—who knows—American students just may have been told the story of “the original 14 colonies.”

Epilogue:
In 1990 archaeologist Dr. Jeffrey Brain heard about Popham colony for the first time in his 40-year career. Using the only surviving document from the colony, a map showing the fort, buildings, and some coastline, he searched the Maine coast for the next seven years…and found the lost colony. Excavation is ongoing, but the remains of the fort and several buildings have been found, as well as artifacts such as glass beads, a clay pipe, nails, pottery, and armor. If you’re ever up on the Maine coast—go take a look at some forgotten American history.

An anagram is a rearrangement of the letters in a word or phrase to get a new word or phrase. Sometimes the new phrase is even a pretty fitting commentary on the original. Here are anagrams of the names of some popular TV shows, books, musicians, songs, and movies
.

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE
SLAYER becomes…
PITHY
  FEMALE BRAVES FURY

THE ROLLING STONES
becomes
…
HELL! SING
  SO ROTTEN!

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
becomes …
A STUD
   BENEATH, YA BET!

GREY’S ANATOMY
becomes…
AGONY
  MASTERY

THE WONDER YEARS
becomes…
DREARY
  TEEN SHOW

STAR WARS EPISODE ONE:
THE PHANTOM MENACE
  becomes…
REMADE
    PHENOMENON IS
       CATASTROPHE,
           WASTE

DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES
becomes
…
WE ARE
   DEVIOUS SHE-PETS

A CLOCKWORK ORANGE
becomes…
KOOK CREW
   GO CARNAL

GOLDILOCKS AND THE
THREE BEARS
  
becomes…
GIRL HAD
    CEREALS, THEN
       TOOK BEDS

THE SOPRANOS becomes…
A PERSON SHOT

CHARLIE AND THE
CHOCOLATE FACTORY
   becomes…
THE TALE OF
     CANDY-O-HOLIC
        CHARACTER

HOW THE WEST WAS WON
becomes…
WHAT WE
   SHOT WE OWNS

SOUTH PARK becomes…
OK, TRASH UP

BEST IN SHOW becomes…
WHITE SNOBS

ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF
THE SPOTLESS MIND
  becomes…
ELEMENT
     SHUTS RELATIONSHIP
        FONDNESS

“GOOD VIBRATIONS”
becomes…
AVOIDING
   ROBOTS

The best part about living in a free society is that you can complain about anything that bothers you. We all do it, but some people do it loudly and in public…which sometimes makes the rest of us laugh
.

R
OOTS AND SUITS
The Blue Parrot diner in Louisville, Colorado, was founded in 1919 by two Italian immigrants. Their signature sandwich is “the Wopburger.” The offensive name never received a single complaint…until 2007, when an Italian-American tourist objected and threatened a lawsuit. The restaurant’s owners changed the name to the “Italian Burger,” but after even more people complained about
that
, they changed it back to the Wopburger.

For six years, the Wilson County Fair in Tennessee has offered a $2 “religious” discount off admission to anyone who brought a church bulletin. In 2008 an atheist organization called Secular Life protested the discount, claiming it unfairly “promoted Christianity.” Fair organizers responded by extending the discount to customers who brought a printout from any atheist Web site.

In 2008 noise complaints led the city of Worcester in England to place restrictions on ice cream truck music. Music may no longer be played before noon or after 7:00 p.m., may last only four seconds, and may be played only once every three minutes.

The Atlantic Theater in Atlantic Beach, Florida, staged Eve Ensler’s female-empowerment play
The Vagina Monologues
in February 2007. A woman drove by the theater with her school-age niece, who read the marquee and asked her what a vagina was. The woman complained to the theater, which is ordinarily a comedy club, so they rebilled the play on the marquee as
The Hoohah Monologues
. “We decided we would just use child slang for it,” said Atlantic’s director Bryce Pfanenstiel.

For decades one of the traditional activities at the annual St. Patrick Catholic Church Roundup in Stephensville, Wisconsin, was a pig-wrestling contest. It was recently discontinued when some attendees complained that the pigs squealed too much. “Some city folks come out here and don’t understand,” said a St. Patrick spokesman.

In November 2007, England introduced a new scratch-off lottery game called Cool Cash. The game had a weather theme: The player won money if the temperature they scratched off was lower than the one printed on the card. Cool Cash was pulled from stores after officials received complaints from angry players who apparently didn’t understand how negative numbers work (such as how –6° is a colder temperature than –5°).

The Hopwood Unionist Club is a social club in Manchester, England. In 2003 it ended its 100-year tradition as a men-only organization and began admitting women. But in 2008, while a group of men and women were playing bingo and cards in the club’s sports room, golf was on the TV set and a woman asked if they could change it to a music channel. The response: Not only did golf stay on, but Hopwood leaders voted to ban women from the sports room. Club secretary Peter Burt said, “There was more to it than the TV channel thing.”

In 2006 Wall Street executives and brokers enjoyed record-high, multimillion-dollar annual bonuses. In a
New York Times
article on the subject, one anonymous broker complained that New York City didn’t have a decent selection of $20 million properties for sale.