At my age, a few years short of the century mark, some of my friends may wonder what keeps me going at full throttle. I think I know the answer. It’s because I dig holes. I dig myself into a hole so that I am forced to climb out or perish.
All my life I have welcomed challenges. But, after many mistakes, I’ve learned it isn’t always smart to jump off into empty space just to see where you land. There were times when I bit off more than I could chew and I choked on what I tried to swallow.
What I am trying to say is this. It’s a good thing to try new things. Usually, even if you make a mistake, new doors open and, as long as you keep trying, you will come out OK. But it’s better if you use a little judgment beforehand … knowing you have a fighting chance to prevail.
I come the real subject of this column; my book, “Lake County History.” I am as excited as a kid on Christmas morning about to see my book in print on Sunday; in a week or so. More than anything it will be a testament for one like me, with only average smarts but with more persistence than I know what to do with, to finish a good book.
I fell in love with Lake County during the half century I’ve lived here. Yet, when I turned my mind to Lake County’s past, I discovered what little I knew would not fill one of Cleo’s kitty bit saucers. I hardly knew anything about our people or the events that left their mark on Lake County.
Once I started to dig I found I had a tiger by the tail. As I looked into the dozens of Maldin Files, read every issue of the Pomo Newsletter, studied every back issue of county newspapers, interviewed every person with a smidgen of knowledge about our history that would talk to me, hounded the people of our museums, dug into the files of our genealogical library, and searched every dusty corner that might reveal some shred of data, I had enough reference material to fill the five metal files in my back office.
The job turned out to be more of an Everest to climb than the mole hill I thought it would be. I turned the mountain of my writing over to my editor, along with the hundreds of photographs our museums and historical society had kept over the years, and put together in some fashion that would be clear, interesting and accurate.
What was the result? My daughter answered that question best. Dolly Riley lives in Mendocino County. She just retired as a hard working supervisor for Mendocino County Social Services and, as a part of her work, spoke with judges, supervisors and attorneys on behalf of abused children of crack-cocaine parents. Like me, she is passionate about her job.
Dolly has just been appointed to the Ukiah Library board and she is still thinking of taking on more responsibilities.
She said, “Dad, after I read Lake County History, as I was driving through Lake County on my way to Sacramento the other day, I had an entirely new vision of how unusual and wonderful is Lake County’s amazing history.”
Last week, when I re-read Lake County History weeks after I had finished the writing, I had the same feeling. I am a story teller and Lake County history has more than a hundred good stories told in chronological order from 12,000 years ago when the Pomos came over Beringia from Asia to Lake County up to the present day.
I am very fortunate to have chosen such a job. I consider myself a lucky man. I had the opportunity to tell Lake County’s story in a new way and, now that the work is finished, I’m satisfied and happy. I dug myself a large hole and managed to climb out and finish the job. It made me feel young again.
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs.
