Strolling the Marble Orchards

By Antoinette May Herndon

Mokelumne Hill’s cemeteries sit like sentinels on either end of Center Street. Each morning I walk a figure eight, traversing both, while gunslingers and claim jumpers slumber through eternity beside school marms and preachers.

It’s quiet now (except for George Leger who’s said to haunt his hotel up the street), but that doesn’t mean there aren’t stories to tell.

Consider Elizabeth Markwood in the Catholic Cemetery. Her marker merely says “wife of George,” but consider the dates. George’s wife, (1834-1885) lived the Gold Rush, arguably the most electrifying period in history. She saw it all.

Wild things inhabit both cemeteries: turkeys, bunnies, deer, foxes. Recently a coyote took my measure in the Catholic graveyard. It was the same size and color as Chloe, our golden retriever. Big. No question the coyote was making a statement for it ambled across our path not five feet away, eyes on mine the entire while. (Chloe wisely looked the

other way.)

Another time in the Protestant cemetery, I heard a distant meow. It came closer and closer until the brush parted and a familiar form appeared. Half tabby, half Indian spotted cat, Bengals are scarcely a generation removed from the jungle. Think: leopard spots and great green eyes.

Our gorgeous Swami had been unaccountably missing for more than a year, but now the errant kitty came right up, rubbed against my ankles, rolled over to be petted and purred like a motor. Ah, the prodigal returned! When I tried to lift her, Swami had other ideas. It was not my way but the highway. I never saw her again.

Getting back to graves, Malcolm Lockheed’s is special to me. He once owned our house on Center Street. Malcolm invented the four-wheel hydraulic brake universally used for automobiles and co-founded the Lockheed Corporation.

Hired by a Chinese warlord to build and fly airplanes, the 25-year-old Malcolm landed in a Hong Kong jail. Two years later, during the Mexican revolution, he became that country’s

chief air force engineer—one plane involved.

In 1917, Malcolm founded the aviation firm that still bears his name and built the world’s largest passenger plane. He sold his interests in the company in 1930 to satisfy a lifelong dream of prospecting for gold in Mokelumne Hill.

It was not a smart career move. Malcolm died a pauper, but, oh, the memories . . .

The newest grave in the Protestant Cemetery is that of our son-in-law, David Lauter, who died last month. Dave had a dry, irreverent sense of humor. If jokes are cracked on the other side, his will be among the wittiest.

Come haunt us, David. We miss you.

PICTURES

1 George Leger is said to be a restless shade.

2) George Leger’s final resting place in the Protestant Cemetery in Mokelumne Hill may not be so final.

3) Mokelumne Hill’s marble orchard, the Protestant Cemetery on West Center Street

4 & 5) Coyotes have the right of way in Mokelumne Hill Catholic Cemetery

Photos by Antoinette May Herndon