Disaster

The worst disaster which befell any and all of our old pioneer towns was fire.

All of the fires that I have ever known started internally in the towns or within the buildings that burned. The first big fire destroying Camptonville was in 1889-90, in which the major part of the town was consumed. The town was, of course, built back, and every now and then, someone's house would be lost. The next big fire took place in March 1908.

This took place on a day when a terrific north wind was blowing. There were no men in town; all were out working. And, of course, the water supply was inadequate. Someone in the Post Office took occasion to burn a quantity of waste paper in the stove; a burning piece got onto the shake roof, and within a short time, a raging fire pursued.

In the course of a few hours, 14 buildings were consumed, including the Post Office, Express Office, store, saloon and the music hall over it, hotel, two stage barns, blacksmith shop, butcher shop, social dance hall, livery barn, and outbuildings and dwellings, with nothing being saved, and only a ruined, smoldering mass remaining.

The only thing standing of the entire business section of the town was a soapstone vault in my grandfather's office, in which my grandfather had presence of mind enough to carry the store cash register (which ordinarily would require two people to lift) therein, and lock the door.

As soon as the situation cooled enough to do anything, my grandfather obtained a flag pole and a large American flag, which he had erected on said vault and had his picture taken, waving hat in hand on top of the vault, and composed a verse. He later had cards made for his friends with the picture thereon, the verse on the back of it.

Instead of printing his name completely, he had the picture of a billy goat, a charging bull, and his last name, it representing, of course, William Bull Meek. On the sides of his name, he had the emblems of the Masonic Fraternity, the Shriners and the Elks, to which orders he belonged. The Elks took exception to this, considering it "advertising" (which it was not, the cards being made for good fellowship only), and after a hassle about it, he became disgusted and withdrew from the order.

He immediately started to clean up the ruins and rebuild. It was an awful mess. One thing alone I can recall - enough baked potatoes to feed an army, where the potato stock had been stored in a cellar. His aim was to build back a "fire-proof" town, practically an impossibility. He did, however, do the nearest to it he could. Along with trying to make the building fireproof, he saw to it that there was space for a vacant lot between the buildings.

Thus like the Phoenix, another town arose from the ruins. The two main buildings were the store and the saloon. Both two-story high-ceiling structures were made of concrete, very heavily constructed. This was before the days of automobiles or machinery. All the rock, gravel and cement had to be hauled by horse team, and all shoveling and cement mixing by hand and the sweat of the brow. There were no cement mixers or elevators. It was all mixed by two men. It was all carried up to the forms on gangplanks via wheelbarrows.

At the time this was going on, the Nevada County Narrow Gauge Railroad was building a new trestle (a cut off) over Bear River. Kidder, the president of the railroad, and my grandfather were good friends, so he gave my grandfather all the railroad rails from the old track and trestle, and they were hauled to Camptonville by horse team. They were linked together every four feet all the way around inside the walls of the two cement buildings, providing extra strength to the construction.

During the period of reconstruction, a makeshift town had been set up, with a temporary post office, stores and, most importantly, a saloon. And a bunkhouse had to be erected to house some of the workers on the two buildings.

On the front of the temporary saloon, which was located on China Lane, W. B. erected a sign, "Wet House for Dry People", and over the entrance to the bunkhouse, he placed the sign, "Dry House for Wet People". All the lumber for the buildings was cut and milled at the Slate Range Mill -- 7 miles NW of town, which at one time was owned and operated by W. B. All of the interiors were made of the finest sugar pine lumber, a grade which can hardly be found in this day.

By late summer, the buildings were completed, and the date of September 9, 1908, was set for the dedication and opening, and a general celebration was in order (and at the usual procedure -- at the expense of Bill Meek). For this festive occasion, the town was bedecked in red, white and blue bunting and flags. The second story of the store building was made into a huge dance hall, with a stage for the orchestra and band.

At the end of China Lane, on the outskirts of China Town, a framework was set up, covered with large tree limbs to create shade, tables erected, a large iron kettle set up, and Peter Mondata, a life-long friend of the family and an unexcelled cook specializing in Italian-Swiss Cookery, was at hand. For a couple of days, he served his spaghetti and chicken to all the participants of the celebration (at the expense of Bill Meek), which concession, you may well be aware, was highly "patronized".

A big all-night dance took place in the store building on the 9th; a bootblack stand (something unheard of and foreign to Camptonville) was set up on the store porch. It goes without saying that whiskey flowed freely during these few days, and naturally the entire dedication of the new modern town was a huge success.