Half Moon Bay Memories & El Granada Observer

“Pablo Vasquez, slender, grave,white head and beard, unbelievably poised and graceful. And his golden pony. Little hooves flicking like white butterflies, golden skin polished and glinting in the sun. They pass. An era passes on those twinkling hooves.

“The stage draws up to the porch of the Schuyler House. Quick leaves, hand shakes, and you board it,climbing to the high seat beside Bob Rawles.

Wells Fargo’s box lies at your heels, and the reins of six horses, complex and demanding, are in Bob’s hands.

“You look at his seamed and weathered face. He is no longer young. Soon Eddie Campbell and Frey of Purissima will drive, and old Bob will linger at the stables, unable to leave the animals he has handled so long.

“From your high perch you survey the homes, the picket fences, the bursting, overflowing gardens. This is the land of the fuchsia, the geranium, the nasturium.

“Against the quiet neutrality of the sky and green-grey lands, the flowers flame with a passionate glory.

“The homes look loved and well cared for. The contentment reaches you on the high seat and you are happy.

“The hay is a long sea before you. Occasional fields of flex are heliotrope lakes. Eucalyptus and cypress fence the farms with sheltering walls.

“Purissima beckons, but Irish Ridge is your destination. There are the fields of potatoes for hungry San Francisco. This is your business today.

“A road winds steeply and curves from sight. Goldenrod and wild aster border it. You leave the stage and look forward to the climb. But here is John Ring, with his team behind you. You ride.

———————————————————————————————————————————

“On Irish Ridge, the fiddles sing. The merry quips and laughter ring. At night the lads and lassies dance. The old folk dance the clog.

“On Irish Ridge are Garrigans and Rings. On Irish Ridge the Caseys live like kings.

“The dusk of the dawn is in the barns as leather is flung on sleepy horses. In lamp-lit stalls the bit, collar and harnass are fitted. In the quiet of the morning, you are on your way to Amesport [ Miramar Beach].

“Six wagons are coming. Loaded high and heavy with potatoes. Kinds unknown today; Bodega Blues and Sonoma Rose and Peerless. Blue shirted, big-framed men quietly handled the teams. It is a land and a time of horsemen.

“Up through dusty miles. Dust in little cataracts falls from the wheel rims.

“On through the half-wakened town. Northward, where the whistle of an impatient steamer blows.

…To be continued…

“You know the man speaks the truth. Across the Peninsula, a few dairies lie scattered from Colma to Redwood. Although it is a county seat, Redwood is just emerging from the prevailing marshland.

“Here on the coast is vigorous, bustling life. Two stage lines serve the coastland and the traffic is phenomenal. Sometimes three steam schooners are waiting their turn at Amesport.

“Wheat, potatoes, cattle, hay, flax and timber pour out to nourish the new growth of San Francisco.

“The Steeles, Moores and McCormacks farm all the way to the Santa Cru county line. Doble, Dowell, John Mein, Deany, Schult and Martin are at Lobitos, at Tunitas and Purissima. The latter boasts a hotel, a store, a dance hall, a saloon, a school and a church. Fishermen from San Francisco know these streams well.

“Irish Ridge is populated. Rings, Garrigans, Casey and O’Briens have built there, high above the sea.

“Halfmoon or Spanishtown, throbs with life. Its stories, schools, churches and saloons are all patronized as occasion calls.

“Bolts of cloth are piled to the ceiling in Levy’s store and Boitano’s. The barns bulge with grain. Team after team crawls up and down Main Street.

“Mary McCormack and Miss Pringle and Clara Mullen have their schools.

“And on Sunday, the workaday community quiets to a hush. The church bells call their singing cadence. Almost to a man, woman and child, the town turns out.

“As you stand on the porch of the Schulyer House, you can see across the grainfields the mouth of Higgins Canyon. Sanor and Tom and Wm. Johnsonn farm theere, and Clement Nash. The hill of Rudolpho Miramontes is a waving backdrop of grain beyond the town streets.

“A six horse team strains at the tugs as it starts a load of lumber. It hass three miles to go to the long pier at Amesport.

“There will be more of these teams soon. Charlie Borden and Rufus Hatch are cutting in the Purissima. Hughes at Tunitas, Walker, Bloomquist and a score of others in the San Gregorio, the Pomponio, the Pescadero. The walls of San Francisco are being created.

“Behind you the election talk simmers. Now local pride has its hour. A man tells of the running of Andy Younker from San Francisco with a fifty pound sack of flour on his back. He made Amesport before dark and won his wager.

“You hear of Louis Cardoa who carries two sacks of grains at a time to the boats and earns two men’s wages.

“You hear of Wm. Griffith. He bought the first lot in 1862. It seems he has again won the turkey shoot with frontier markmanship.

“And then, visual focus of their pride, a horseman rides by. He rides simply, without ostentation. But here is drama living.

….To be continued…

Photo: Main Street, Half Moon Bay

“And now the town. A tall white church, new and imposing. A store, and a store, and a store. Joe McCarthy’s, Angelo and Joe Boitano’s emporium. The headquarters of the Levy brothers; Ferdinand, Joe, Armand and Adrian, from Alsace Lorraine. And their wives from a German merchant port. They had come to serve and to prosper and they are doing both well.

“On the right, on Kelly Avenue is Nelson’s livery stable. Harry the post carrier, is still to be born. The postmaster is Fred Valedejo. Here is Quinlan’s blacksmith shop. There, Charlie Gonzales’ forge, showering sparks and tinkling with hammer blows.

“Now neither rawles nor the horses are too tired for the expected dramatic finale. Bob brings the team to a spanking trot. With a roar of wheels, a grind of brakes and trampling hooves, the stage comes to a hard down stop in front of the Schuyler House.

“The Schuyler House looks down from four impressive stories and balconies. A few years before it had been sold to a corporation of ten, at a thousand dollars a share. So now in the bar is young Andy Gilchrist. And in charge of the kitchen is young Kate Burke.

“They are to have many years of marriage and hotel keeping before them. But the years of the foredoomed Schuyler House are to be few. On April 26, 1894, it is to vanish in an avalanche of flame and thundering fall of roof and floors. Charlie Walker’s drug store is to be burned too, and the whole town threatened. Half Moon will fight back desperately with buckets and will never forget that day.

“You clamber a bit stiffly from the stage. The strap bound Wells Fargo box plummets to the board sidewalk. Not always has it survived the journey. The stage is not the only institution of the West to travel that lonely road. There are highwaymen too.

“On the hotel veranda you see the Higgins boys. Also McGovern, Clement Nash and Wm. Savage. You see splendid Dr. Church, and towering alongside him Johnny, all eight feet and one inch of him, the tallest man in America.

“The passengers separate to the bar, the dining room, to their homes. New passengers arrived; John Mein for Lobitas, some for Irish Ridge and for Doble’s ranch at Purissima. Three drummers are going through to Mc Cormack’s new hotel, the Pescadero House, and one to the Swanton House.

“Here they will take the Sears stage through the heavy timber to La Honda. Up and down the terrific Upenuf dusty grade to the Trippes store at Woodside and thence to Redwood City.

“It is a jolting, bone-weary job the drummers have, but with a pint of whisky and big black cigars they will see it through.

“After dinner in the bar, there is quite a gathering. It is nearing election. The strong voice of Judge Pitcher asserts, ‘As goes Spanishtown, so goes the county.’ A cheer goes up. The new name, Half Moon Bay, is yet strange to say.

…..To Be Continued….

“The horses strike up a trot. You feel the ride will be too soon over, a delusion that will fade as the mountains slow the journey to two hours, or three if the road is badly out. Then the passengers must perforce dismount. And walk. Or push. Or pluck pickets from a nearby fence and pry the suddenly stubborn wheels from one deep hole into another.

“The hills part. A gate in the canyon rises on either side. Men are working, clambering, sometimes rope-supported from above. ‘That’s Herman Schussler’s gang preparing for the new concrete dam. It will make a lake of the whole Spring Valley’.

“There is a short stop at Crystal Springs House. Ax men are setting up camps to clear the trees from the lake bed to be. The road soon mounts. The horses walk.

“The hills are green-grey with varied brush. The yellow flowers, the lupines, the primrose, wormwood and mimulus dust the slopes with gold. The sun draws rich odor from aromatic plants and from the yerba buena.

“Suddenly a breath of air comes cool to your face. The scent of the sea is on it. Refreshing and exciting,. You are nearing the top of the grade.

“Now the whole world slopes westward to the sea. Far down a canyon checkered with cultivation the sun picks up the white of houses and of a tall church.

“Bob Rawles has his foot on the brake, the leather hub shuches and squeaks. The horses break into a trot. The coach rocks and rolls.

“Nearly straight below you see the roofs and the golden pumpkin patches of Albrecht.

“Beyond this the canyon opens. ‘That’s where a bear treed old man Digges. He came ahead of the wagons. They had to ground brake them down the hill. No road then. Digges sat in an alder. The bear sat on the bank. Real patient. Till the wagons come. And someone shot him.’

“The road is proving good. It is summer, the stage rolls past the adobe of the Campbells. There the boy Eddie waves, and waits for his day on the driver’s seat to come.

“The next adobe is Fred Fillmore’s. You are nearing town. Here is the Catholic cemetery. Here is Gilchrist’s creamery. Ahead is the piled bridge that spans the Pilarcitos.

“On the right, the long, low adobe of the Vasquez family. Daturas bloom against its walls, and marguerites, yellow and white, crowd the yard.

“a horseman is quietly riding out on a golden pony. Only his white beard tells you he is not a youth. He is instead a centaur. He is Pablo Vaquez. Legend had many tales of him. Did he ride with Murieta? Who knows….

….To be continued…

Photo-courtesy San Mateo County History Museum. Visit the museum at the historic Redwood City Courthouse–or better, yet, become a member!

“It is June and the year is 1885.

“The train you boarded at Third and Townsend Streets, San Francisco, has been running southerly, through meadows and marshes for nearly an hour. Now it is slowing. A few houses pass the window. The brakes grind.

“The conductor flings open the door and his shout runs the length of the car: ‘San Mateo!’ You are on your way to the coastland.

“As you step down, a few surprising vehicles meet the eye. Hitched to a well-chewed pole are dog-carts, jaunting carts, tallyho and tandem. The horses are bobbed roached and the harness silver trimmed. They tell of the playland of the millionaires, D.O. Mills, Flood, Crocker, Parrot and Wm. Ralston.

“Beyond these polished but effete conveyances looms a great Concord coach, utilitarian as a merchantman in a harbor of yachts. It is the ship of the West, tremendously traditional, almost mystic. And it will carry you to the land behind the mountains.

“Its bulging body is Indian red and striped with gold. A landscape is painted on scrolled panels on either door. Leather straps support it in place of springs, and it will rock and roll like a true ship in a sea.

“Today four horses draw it. Often there are six, and it has carried the unbelievable number of twenty eight passengers. They ride in three layers, a top-heavy shortcake of seating. In the coach itself, on the roof with legs dangling, and on a seat like a hatch on top.

“Bob Rawles sits on the high perch of the driver. The passengers gather about.

“Here is Loren Coburn of the Pescadero lands, crackers and cheese in his pockets. R.I. Knapp, short and bearded, back from his plow works in San Jose. A tall man, bearded like a patriarch, swings up. You recognize James Hatch.

“The vigorous form of Chas. Borden, pipe smoking , piles in. You ask about the redwood canyon he has acquired form the Lanes and about the progress of the mill.

“A bareheaded man with pale face and ample moustache collects the fare; Ferdinand Levy. It is one dollar to Half Moon, two dollars and a half to Pescadero.

“Rawles gathers the lines, cracks his whip. The coach rolls out of town, along a single street bordering the railroad tracks. It crosses the meandering red-rock roadway of Camino Real.

“Here stands a sign post. Some joker has shot a piece from it. Truncated, it read, “Moonbay and scadero”. Beyond, the green-grey hills rise.

…to be continued…

Photo: courtesy San Mateo County History Museum. Visit the museum at the historic Redwood City Courthouse in Redwood City.

Photo taken in the 1970s.

As night fell, the crew believed they were 40 miles offshore–but soon discovered they were in the midst of crashing breakers. The “Coya” rammed a reef, rolled over and sank instantly.

Twenty-six of the passengers, including the crew, drowned. Two men and a boy managed to survive by clinging to a rock, then swam ashore for help.

Two years later in November, 1868, a combination of a steel gray sky, gusty, unpredictable winds and heavy seas blinded the ship “Hellespont” as she struggled up the coast carrying one thousand tons of coal.

Captain Soule, a native of Brooklyn, New York, mistakenly believed he was 20 miles off the coast when the “Hellespont” was engulfed by the breakers and crashed into the black reefs.

As the breakers swung the “Hellespont” around wildly, the ship split in half–and the main deck was carried out to sea.

Captain Soule and seven of his men perished. The rest of the crew reached help at the Portuguese whaling station at Pigeon Point.

The tragic loss of lives aboard the three vessels contributed to a popular, local movement seeking construction of a lighthouse at Pigeon Point, a project completed in 1872.

——————————————————-

The Cemetery in the Sand Dunes

In the summer of 2001 something white in the sand caught the eye of a hiker as he walked among the wind-eroded dunes near Point Ano Nuevo. There was something about it that made him start digging.

He quickly uncovered a shocking discovery that made him think violence had happened here: Murder.

For there, only inches beneath the sand in front of him, he later told the San Mateo County Sheriff’s Department, there was a skull.

Actually, the sheriff’s investigation would find there were many skulls there and many leg and arm and back and rib bones. Dozens of them. Enough to fill a cemetery.

And indeed, that’s what the hiker had found, a cemetery lost for decades among the shifting sand dunes.

While wrong about this being a murder scene, the hiker was right in surmising that these unfortunates had died violently and the clue was in the roaring of the surf that pounded the nearby beaches.

The sound of the surf is probably the last thing these poor souls heard and is precisely why most of them died.

These dead people had once strode the decks of sailing ships such as the “Sir John Franklin”, the “Coya” and the “Hellespont”.

All perished in the 1860s when their ships, blinded by the heavy fog, struck reefs between Pigeon Point and Ano Nuevo and sunk wuth heavy losses of life. The dead were buried side-by-side in a dunes area originally fenced off and marked with headstones.

The remains of ship’s officials were generally not found at these sites as relatives often claimed them for burial in family plots.

Overtime the strong winds disturbed the sand dune environment, exposing the cemetery site. the shipwreck victims had been buried in redwood coffins–but even this superior wood could not withstand the effect of the sometimes brutal weather and the coffins are now the consistency of wet cardboard.

When I last worked on this story, park rangers were working to stabilize this historical shipwreck gravesite so not to disturb the human remains. A pedestrian boardwalk was to be built with interpretive signs enabling the visitor to learn about the cemetery (and at the same time they will be advised of the laws against disturbing archaeological remains).

In Part 2 Bill Miramontes was telling me about the rise & demise of the Ocean Shore Railroad– that the main reason for its failure was the stiff competition from cars and trucks (that could transport vegetables from Half Moon Bay to market in San Francisco faster).

Bill: The train just ran out of passengers and freight because it was so much better to buy fresh vegetables picked the same day and have [the produce] at the market the next day. If they put the vegetables on the train they had to pick it, sort it and then bring it down to the train and it would stay there one or more days on the tracks. It could be three or four days before it got to the market.

Bill: When they got solid tires, trucks were better than cars. They were slow, even 8-10 miles per hour but they’d leave at 10 and get to San Francisco at 1 or 2 in the morning.

Bill: The artichoke was a big item in those days, fresh and green. When shipped by the train artichokes would be–after you pick them–and they sit for 2, 3, 4 days–they get kind of withered and dark.

Bill: People started buying Fords or cheap cars and they’d go to San Francisco in an hour and a half. On the train it would be an all day trip. The Ocean Shore Railroad ran out of passengers and that’s why they failed.

…To be continued…

Bill Miramontes: My father–being that he worked on the highway–used to commute from Half Moon Bay to Pedro Valley on the Ocean Shore. On holidays, or Sundays, he didn’t work so he’d take me with him to San Francisco.

Bill: My father was a huge man. He’d take me to San Francisco to see the town. I used to get a big kick out of going down to see the waterfront. Around noon you’d see all those beautiful teams come in. They’d put the feedbags on ‘em…All these beer companies that have matched horses, matched teams of fours…beautiful. Their harnesses, all glistened, polished.

Bill: When we’d go to San Francisco, I couldn’t stand looking in the ocean over Devil’s Slide. I used to jump across the train and look out against the hill….You’d look right over the water, oh brother….I couldn’t bear that…we’d go round, in through the tunnel and around….

June: How long did it take?

Bill: About an hour.

Marion Miramontes: Oh, longer than that, honey. They used to make all those stops every mile or two.

Bill: About two hours. Every time we had a little rain we had a landslide…rocks on the track around Devil’s Slide. During the latter part of the life of the Ocean Shore they used a gas train… it didn’t pay them to run a big steam engine down here. They’d bring down 30-40 people…had this gasoline bus…it was really a bus….on the tracks and could hold 40-50 people.

Photo: Gas train at Moss Beach

Bill: [The Ocean Shore Railroad] failed because these farmers who were so close to San Francisco started using trucks–people from Half Moon Bay started buying trucks and cars and doing their own hauling and riding into San Francisco in their own cars.

..to be continued…

Clay Fountain was one of many Coastsiders I interviewed in 1980-81 for a documentary called “The Mystery of Half Moon Bay”.

Here are more of Clay’s comments. (See the earlier post for more information on his background).

–The Coastal Commission–

“I think the Coastal Commission has worked quite well although I know a lot of resentment has built up against it recently.

“The opponents of Prop 20 weren’t able to deflect it at the polls and so then they set up about working at it, in all sorts of other ways, at local levels, running advertising, getting groups together which sometimes misrepresent what the Coastal Commission is trying to do.

“In the interim the Coastal Commission has tended to soften some of its attitudes somewhat.

“And I disagree with that.

“I think they shouldn’t have softened under this underground and sometimes open attacks by people who are interested in getting richer, getting fatter and having more power.

–Coastside Roads–

“I’m perfectly happy with the roads the way they are.

“I think Devil’s Slide is dangerous and I would agree to having a bypass on the other side of the mountain—but not a massive freeway.

“Like we try to get off our side street on a Saturday or Sunday and sometimes you gotta wait 20 minutes before you find a break in traffic.

-Coastside Fog—

“Enduring fog is worth it to me because there are so many aspects…I can hear the surf pounding at night and I can hear the sea fowl calling down there and there’s a school of smelt or anchovies and I can hear the wind in the trees.”

-Newcomers-
“I find that they [newcomers] change after they get here…they become excited about the coastside and wish that so many more wouldn’t come…

“I was a naturalist and I loved the outdoors and a clean environment from the time I was a child. I’ve spent time in big cities and I don’t like big cities…”

-Environmental Movement-

“My feeling is that the ecology and environmental movement is growing. It’s growing steadily and will one day be the cause of a spiritual rebirth…

“I think we’re marking time. There’s population trickling in. The sewer plant is now going to be built but there’s been some limits put on what can happen with the sewer plant.

“I think there will bew a continuing increase in the population but we’ll still be able to keep it under what the developers want to do……”

During 1980-81, I worked on a t.v. documentary, called “The Mystery of Half Moon Bay�.

Clay Fountain, whose comments follow, had campaigned for the 1976 California Coastal Act and had been the El Granada postmaster. Yes—he was eccentric– today some would say radical—but he was also very kind. I remember one time he called me after the post office had closed—he told me a special package had arrived (it was my birthday) and he waited for me to come and pick it up.

Clay Fountain is no longer with us. A Half Moon Bay friend brought me along to visit him before he passed—he was then living in a Foster City “home� but the elderly widower suffered from Alzheimer’s….

–On Growth—

“…that all started in 1971 when the Granada Sanitary District and the Half Moon Bay City Council voted to form a joint powers agency which would have authority to get grant funds and build a $5 million sewage disposal facility….

“A group of citizens banded together in opposition to building that disposal plant because it was meant to open up the area for high-density housing and industry and commerce.

“We were able to get an injunction. Fred Lyon (who became a County Supervisor) came into the picture at that time. He was just a law student but he helped to prepare it.

“We had an organization called SOS, Save Our Shoreline..”

–Living On The Coastside–

“I came here because it was a pastoral scene—it was pleasant and serene and I’d like it to kind of stay that way.

“The whole massive growth thing—big institutions, big government…everything seems to keep getting bigger and bigger. And the individual is either being turned into a zombie or is being made into a kind of slave for this massivity.

“I campaigned hard for Prop. 20 [1976 California Coastal Act which greatly limited Coastside construction) and I was glad it passed and it passed very strongly in this area because [pause] natural beauty, scenic majesty ought to be like the air, you shouldn’t have to pay for it and it shouldn’t be cluttered up.

“The cosmos gives us these things.”

–Clay Fountain’s Philosophy–

“I have a very peculiar sense of what ownership is…I think the cosmos owns everything and that it’s improper for people to buy it or steal it or seize it and say, now this is mine, and I’m the only one to use it.

“I think the cosmos owns everything. The earth belongs to all of us and we ought to be humble about that and use it not for vain glory, not to get fatter than anyone or richer and use what abundance there is on earth in a fair and pleasant way.”

…to be continued…

Says Don Carder, New Chamber of Commerce President; Action On Freeways Is Urged

“1971 will be a good year for Half Moon Bay and the coastside,” said Don Carder, newly-elected president of the Half Moon Bay Chamber of Commerce as he took over the gavel at a Thursday noon luncheon.

“The emphasis should be for quality development and I believe that there will be growth. Controlled growth is better than having no planning to preseve some of the open space.”

–People Will Come–

“There are some who want no more people to come here, but the people will continue to come. I feel that not all the beach frontage should be taken by the county or the state.

“We should try to build better local sewer treatment plants so that we won’t have something like the Kaiser plan. The recreation aspect will be important in our future growth,” Carder added.

Carder was introduced by Ben LaMar, the outgoing president of the chamber, who urged continuation of the efforts to obtain construction of the Rt. 92 freeway from San Mateo and the Devil’s Slide bypass….”

(This 1971 article from the “Half Moon Bay Review” was sent to me by a reader.)

Ed Bauer moved to Half Moon Bay in 1960 where he became the publisher and editor of the Half Moon Bay Review for about 25 years.

(In 1980 I interviewed him for my documentary, “The Mystery of Half Moon Bay�. Here are some quotes that did not air).

On Growth:

“The community was essentially rural [when Ed arrived in 1960]. A rural community with an emphasis on agriculture. And it was just beginning to change from an agricultural area to a commuter or suburban area.

“When I came here they were building 9-10 houses a year on the whole Coastside—that would be from San Gregorio into Montara.

“And the cost of lots in Montara was from $300 to $400 which was less than the sewer assessment for the lot. So it was still pretty much…I’d describe it s a rural area in transition….

“…In the 1960s I made a statement that I didn’t want to see Half Moon Bay become another Pacifica. We wanted balanced growth. We didn’t want to see ultra-high density population and rows and rows f houses with no open space.

“What we were looking for was balanced growth. There’s enough area over here for a balance in the growth.

“I think this is what the City of Half Moon Bay has been attempting to accomplish—of having a balance between open space and housing.

“One of our biggest concerns was the people of San Francisco—we could see them pouring into Pacifica which had this ultra-high population density. And, with this came problems in schools, crime, and traffic, public activities and taxes.

“You get what’s called a ‘bedroom community’ which has an economic imbalance.

“We want to have some agriculture. We wanted to have some fishing. We wanted to have jobs for people who live here…�

On the Coastal Commission

“Parts of coastal communities in California are exempt from the Coastal Commision: L.A., Santa Cruz, San Francisco, exempt. By political pressure they were able to get special concessions because they have more political muscle.

“The Coastal Commission is one law for one group, another law for another group.

“Half Moon Bay, because of the lack of political muscle, couldn’t stand up to the Coastal Commission the way other cities could on the coast.

“Frenchman’s Creek is a typical example. Quite a few homes were bought by people who lived in the area, then they made a return on their houses at Frenchman’s Creek. Some of
the very same people have gone to the Golf Links.

“…I don’t think Montara Mountain is going to be packed with house side-byside. I think even if the Coastal Commission hadn’t been in effect, there are certain pressures operating, just like they operated against the Ocean Shore Railroad.�

In his July 30th report, the handwriting expert Chauncey McGovern raised grave suspicions. He advised all parties that the signature was not that of Sarah Coburn. There were too many variations, he noted, between the signature on the will and the one on official records.

The “s� and the subsequent “a� on the official documents, for example, were not connected—but they were connected on the alleged forgery. On the official documents, the “a� was executed with one stroke, while it took two strokes on the will. In the authentic signature, the final “h� in the name, Sarah, “faded out in a flourish�. In the will it looked like a drawn line.

Finally, Chauncey McGovern pointed out that the will was typed on a typewriter of “ancient vintage�. Only Sarah’s signature was actually signed by hand. The letters and the alignment indicated that the will had not been typed by a stenographer – and, in his opinion, not in a lawyer’s office.

Did Sarah Coburn know how to type? No one knew for certain.

McGovern’s report did not speculate on who the alleged forger might have been.

In 1920 the will contest was dismissed when a financial agreement was reached between the beneficiaries of Sarah’s will and the East Coast relatives. By that time, the plaintiff’s attorney Charles Humphrey had acquired a desirable stretch of South Coast property. At the scenic Pescadero ranch he now owned, Humphrey entertained a steady stream of guests until his death in the 1940s.

A year after the case was dismissed, Chauncey McGovern’s ad seeking artists to rent the Von Suppe Poet and Peasant Cottage in Montara appeared in the Half Moon Bay Review.

In the early 1990s the cottage still stood in Montara, across the way from the old Montara Schoolhouse on Sixth Street. At that time, maintaining its tradition, the Von Suppe cottage was home to a music teacher.