Travel: An Overnight In Old Town

Dear Diary,

I’m perpetually hesitant to call posts of this nature “guides,” because I don’t want to sound like I’m telling you what to do, or that it must be done in same manner I did it.

Instead, my goal with this post is to spark your interest in a place and inspire you to see it for yourself. I will share with you what I experienced, but in the end, the choice and opinion is yours. 

With all of that said, exploring Old Town San Diego was like stepping into a time capsule. It is considered the birthplace of California, with the first settlement created in 1769 with merely a mission and a fort. After strolling along the modern downtown city and watching the seals, a visit to this historic site completes the picture.

When we traveled: mid-December (this Minnesota family was EAGER!)

Where we stayed: Hilton Garden Inn, Old Town (request a room with a renovated bathroom!)

(source)

Restaurants we ate at: Café Coyote and Casa Guadalajara (we ate at Casa multiple times!)

(Casa Guadalajara)

What we did:

We bought souvenirs at the Bazaar Del Mundo.

(Inside the Mormon Battalion)

Take in a free tour at the Mormon Battalion.

Purchase tickets for a walking tour through the Whaley House. It’s completely self-guided, and they allow photography. This was one of the most interesting homes to see! (Whaley House Web site)

Then, go to the nearby cemetery. The stories that come from this site stay with you.

We also walked around the State Historic Park and the Cosmopolitan Hotel, which is another option for your stay.

(*All photos by Brianne Sieberg unless a source is linked beneath the image. Links will take you to either my related blog posts, or the official site of the places mentioned here.)

For more information, visit the Old Town San Diego Guide.

A MN Urban Legend Inspired a Megadeth Song

Dear Diary,
I revisited a post I wrote in 2016 that discussed one of Minnesota's infamous urban legends.

Mary Jane Twilliger was a real human being, not a beheaded witch as the legend describes, who died young at age 17 from diphtheria.

I wish I could pinpoint why and how her memory was spun off in this story, which has spurned frequent online searches to uncover any reasoning behind it.

According to one result, the legend can potentially be traced to a man named James Sanford Peters, who had operated a mill. Anytime something went wrong at the mill, he’d blame the witches.

What kept it growing remains unsubstantiated.

Another result points to the proprietors of the Loon Lake Store. In the 1970s and 80s, alcohol was not sold in Iowa on Sundays. In order to boost sales and entice Iowans to cross state lines, they relied on the myth. “After all, it is best to confront a haunted area when fortified by spirits." I take issue with this assumption as well, since Minnesota also didn't sell alcohol on Sundays until just recently.

It is also undetermined if May Jane Twilliger’s name is spelled is one ‘l’ or two. I keep seeing both.

What I found most intriguing, and thus, inspiring today’s update, is the legend’s connection to the heavy metal band, Megadeth.

Turns out, their song “Mary Jane” is not about marijuana as notably assumed, but rather – Mary Jane Twilliger.

You see, founding member David Ellefson graduated from high school in Jackson, MN, and released the song in 1988 on the band’s ‘So Far, So Good … So What’ album. 

In fact, Twilliger’s epitaph inspired the song’s chorus:

Beware my friends, as you pass by
As you are now so once was I
As I’m now so you must be
Prepare my friends to follow me.

As I mentioned in my previous post, Twilliger’s tombstone is on display at a museum in Lakefield, MN to protect it from vandals.

It appears this story is much more far-reaching than I had thought.

(source)

DESTRUCTION OF THE CEMETERY

The Loon Lake Cemetery, where Twilliger’s family plots are, had its first recorded burial in 1821 and last in 1926. Unfortunately, as was the case with the Farmington Middle Creek Historic Cemetery, when the associated small country churches close, these cemeteries become abandoned, neglected and lost to time.

It is a felony to destroy the property. That’s why Highland remains at the intersection of a busy thoroughfare, and Middle Creek stands within a modern subdivision. However, as properties change hands and farm equipment got bigger, maneuvering around headstones became difficult. 

There are reports of farmers simply piling headstones in a ditch to plow the land atop the graves.

At one time, there were over 70 gravestones and markers standing in memorial. Today, there are less than 20.

Finally, as nature reclaims the land, the neglect and abandonment likely contributed to the spookiness that propels the urban legend into the present. It’s important for us to remember that every person matters – that they had a life, a family who loved them, and have earned the right to be respected in death.

Hopefully this particular urban legend has been laid to rest.

Highland Cemetery, Dakota County, MN

Dear Diary,

You learn a lot about a culture (or in this case, an era of time here in my county) when you read about how they treated their dead.

Nestled on one of the busiest corners in a tri-city area stands the historic Highland Cemetery. In the 1800s, it was associated with a church that was located across the street, but was eventually destroyed  in a tornado.

The new church was rebuilt in a neighboring city, leaving this cemetery to get lost to time.

This spot feels out of place, as it's next to my grocery store, affluent subdivisions and a 6-lane, high-traffic road. It's not the calm and peaceful setting to lay people down for their eternal rest. But, because of the effort and expense required to relocate, the cemetery remains as is.

People were interred here through 1886. At the time, religion was a cornerstone of people's lives, and it imposed a rather strict set of "guidelines" to follow to ensure a place in heaven. People also didn't understand the complexities of mental illnesses, so suicide was considered a sin.

Behind the rows of well-maintained graves is a dirt path that cuts its way into the woods. Where the ornate headstones were bathed in sunlight, this section felt depressing and gloomy.

Then suddenly, in a small leaf-and-moss-covered patch, stood the headstones marking the burials of souls once considered to be "in limbo," and "morally problematic."

Y'all. I was deeply saddened to discover these were the graves of babies, who passed away before they could be baptized, and therefore, were deemed "unworthy" of a plot on the consecrated ground.

Those poor, sweet, innocent babies ... who failed to meet the "guidelines" set by men of the cloth, because of something beyond anyone's control, were therefore disrespected in this manner.

Among the babies' headstones was one belonging to a man believed to have committed suicide, and also deemed "unworthy."

PERCEPTIONS CHANGE

Over 130 years have passed since that time period, and thankfully, so too has that belief system. The church now recognizes the seriousness of mental illness, but I still feel continued improvements are necessary for the church to better serve as a place of comfort and sanctuary. The graves of those babies break my heart, their burials reflecting more so on the cruelty of a system aimed at control rather than acceptance.

The church once associated with this cemetery has tried to make amends with the people it disrespected. Knowing what they now know, church officials made a pilgrimage to Highland to conduct a healing prayer ceremony, where they asked the souls for forgiveness. While I appreciate the effort, it doesn't change the fact that this was a society that abandoned its most vulnerable members for their own conveniences, rather than offer any sort of assistance or alliance.

(The headstone of an infant, who was fortunate enough to have been baptized prior to her death, because she was buried among those "deserving" of the consecrated grounds.) 

(You can see the roof tops of the homes in the neighboring subdivisions.) 

(The busy intersection that disrupts the cemetery's peace.)

Today, Highland Cemetery is regarded as a historic landmark, offering a testament to the fact that as human beings, we can do better. What was once acceptable, is no longer.

Farmington Middle Creek Historic Cemetery - Farmington, MN

Dear Diary,
Today, an untold story will be told.

The forgotten, long departed souls will be remembered.

And I will document a cemetery classified by the State of Minnesota as "unrecorded."

In the middle of a public park located in the middle of a subdivision in the town we once lived in lies the Farmington Middle Creek Historic Cemetery.

A natural footpath winds its way up a small hill.

The combination of melting snow, fallen leaves from a season ago and mud created a very slippery walking surface. It's easy to navigate though, since the leaves have not yet grown back and I can clearly see where I'm going. However, plenty of large trees had been uprooted and fallen.

And then, the path leads here.

I pause at the decaying sign with the names of the two dozen people buried at this site. Many are children. Young, young children whose innocent lives were cut short due to disease. I wondered how long it had been since their names were last spoken.

The cemetery, once associated with a church, interred people from 1859-1906. Record-keeping from that time wasn't thorough so I wasn't able to pinpoint what happened to the church, or why the cemetery was left to be reclaimed by nature.

It's been abandoned for over 60 years. Nothing can be built here, as its hallowed ground. The site just sort of exists, in between the realms of time as modern families raise their children with this cemetery in their peripheral.

Without headstones, it was hard to determine where the graves were. As I walked, I repeated, "sorry, sorry everybody." I did find this one, topped over and bearing the names of two young children. One passed away at age 2, the other at the age of 28 days. I thought of the anguish felt by their parents, and what a struggle life must have been in the mid-1800s when Minnesota was still considered an untamed, wild frontier.

It is my hope that this post memorializes the souls of these people, as I believe the best way to honor the departed is to speak their name in remembrance. They were important to someone back then, and now over a century later, they have left their mark on me.

I'll Be Gone In The Dark by Michelle McNamara

April 25, 2018 - It gives me great pleasure to update this post with the news that authorities have arrested Joseph James DeAngelo in the decades-long investigation into the Golden State Killer/East Area Rapist. #MichelleMcNamara - you did it. He stepped into the light.

Dear Diary,
Imagine being so obsessed with something that it consumes you.

Perhaps this is why I find the show 'The Curse of Oak Island' so compelling, not for the thrill of the treasure hunt they've embarked on, but because it was an endeavor Rick Lagina dreamed of taking on since childhood.

It's why I purchased Michelle McNamara's book, I'll Be Gone In The Dark, published following her untimely death, and restocked since Amazon sold out following its release.

I'll Be Gone In The Dark by Michelle McNamara

The book chronicles her exhaustive search into who she dubbed the Golden State Killer, whose rampage through California included fifty violent sexual assaults and at least 10 grisly, gruesome murders that left a generation cowering in fear.

He was a boogeyman, emerging from the darkness to carry out his horrific crimes.

And then one day, inexplicably, he stopped.

No one knows who he was, where he was or why he did this. And it was this mystery that motivated a graduate of the University of Minnesota to investigate the case herself.

She started a blog, True Crime Diary, which became quite popular among circles of armchair detectives and so trusted by the actual investigators that Dateline enlisted her assistance for interviews. She wrote, and researched, and interviewed, and chased leads that turned into frustrating dead ends, and she would sob in defeat only to somehow find a renewed strength to keep going. She began to organize her tireless efforts into a book; a book that she could unfortunately never see finished, yet triumphs thanks to her husband and closest associates. She died tragically in her sleep as she neared its end. That chapter was printed as it was with the Editor's Note that she had passed.

This book read like both a memoir and a case summary. I learned quickly that it was unwise to read at night yet continued to do so anyway, often times reading well into the morning hours. I found myself relating to her on so many avenues of her life - her Minnesota ties, her passion for chasing stories, journalism, her blog, writing as her family slept, and finally, her obsession with the process of how law enforcement traps monsters.

This book went above and beyond the narratives of the profiler who helped catch the Unabomber. Where he was cocky, she was confident. She was empathetic when he was selfish. And she connected to her audience to share her obsession in such a way that I couldn't help but simultaneously weep and cheer for her.

"You'll be silent forever. I'll be gone in the dark."

We live in a world filled with monsters, but also a world filled with helpers. Look for the helpers, even in the darkest of moments. They're there. And I hope from where Michelle is, she'll soon be able to hear the echo of a jail cell door clicking shut behind the man she calls the Golden State Killer.

Read the book. Just not in the dark.

This post contains Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase a book through the link, I will receive a small percentage of commission. You are under no obligation to use these links, but if you do, I will use the money to reinvest in the blog.

We're Never Meeting in Real Life by Samantha Irby

Dear Diary,
I was looking to prioritize a few things in my life. I soon came to the realization that in order to make time for them, I needed to stop investing time in other things.

Before, once my children were asleep, I would schedule posts to various social media accounts. I wasn't writing. I wasn't reading. My new camera has the ability to shoot video, which I wasn't editing. It made sense to me to deactivate a few of those platforms and delete the apps from my phone, in order to pursue the passion projects I had set aside.

This post focuses on my desire to read more.

If you look at my archives, you'll discover I've penned only ONE book review. This publishing celebrates the fact that I've finished another book.

We Are Never Meeting in Real Life by Samantha Irby

Samantha Irby pens the popular blog, "Bitches Gotta Eat," to which I am a loyal reader so I was already familiar with her writing style.

She's hilarious.

And as the tracking number for my order brought her collection of essays closer to my doorstep, my building anticipation turned quickly to excitement.

In her book, Irby writes about much heavier topics than on her blog but injects the subject matter with such humor that I laughed out loud on numerous occasions. I found myself relating to her discussions of her autoimmune diseases, nodding in agreement when she refers to life as a "dumpster fire," and despite the book's title, I longed to meet her for coffee (or something stronger) to ask for her advice. Irby is relatable, speaking right to the heart of her struggles but still embracing the life that she has been given.

Make the most of it. Laugh at it.

My favorite chapter introduced me to her bitch of a cat, Helen Keller. Rescued as a kitten, Irby didn't expect her cat to survive and wrote that it was apparent the two hated each other. "You're going to die soon," she'd promise as the cat side-eyed her. The descriptions of Helen Keller reminded me so much of Sasha, our cat who died at age 3 from cancer and whose cremated remains became a white elephant gift after taking up an awkward residence in a bathroom.

(Oh did that surprise you? It's true. I promise we love our pets, we just harbor a disgusting amount of shock value when we don't know what to do with something, like an urn.)

Look, life isn't going to be fucking perfect. No person is either. But what matters most in any situation, is that you go to bed knowing you tried. You tried your best, and if you didn't, well ... you can always turn your failures into a laugh-until-you-cry memoir.

This post contains Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase a book through the link, I will receive a small percentage of commission. You are under no obligation to use these links, but if you do, I will use the money to reinvest in the blog.

Minnesota's Connection to Jesse James

Dear Diary,
On Sunday, the kids and I walked in the footsteps of history.

Northfield, MN is located approximately 20 miles south from our house with strong ties to the infamous outlaw, Jesse James. In fact, the townspeople are credited with influencing the end of his crime spree.

On September 7, 1876, eight members of the James-Younger Gang rode into Northfield with the intent to rob the First National Bank.

It was supposed to be textbook.

The gang assumed the townspeople would be so naive to the reality of a bank robbery that they would cooperate. When 3 of the desperadoes stormed the bank and ambushed the 3 employees, they were promptly told that the vault door could not be opened.

Out on the street, the townspeople sensed something was amiss and began to arm themselves. A merchant stumbled upon the robbery in-progress and yelled, "Get your guns, boys - they're robbing the bank!"

Two of the gang members got on their horses and began firing their pistols and ordering people to leave the area or be shot. A non-English speaking Swedish immigrant named Nicholas Gustafson didn't understand, and he was mortally wounded. He died 4 days later.

The foiled robbery lasted 7 minutes.

When the smoke settled, two gang members lay dead. Two more were badly wounded. The remaining fled southwest, triggering the largest manhunt in U.S. history at that time. 

Much of what is seen at the site is original. The vault was restored to its former glory, and the actual clock stands frozen at 2 p.m. to commemorate the events that wrote Northfield into the pages of history.

A photograph of the bank as it would have looked at the time of the robbery hangs in the building, and below is how the bank appears after its stunning restoration.

The attention to detail and historical fact takes your breath away.

The kids tried to disobey posted signage that prohibited access to the vault area, as their curiosity got the best of them. It was a tough negotiation.

(Square-head nails!)

Bank teller Joseph Lee Haywood is regarded as a hero. He was shot and killed for refusing to open the fault. His blood stains the pages of the transaction ledger that is now enclosed in glass and covered by a thick, black cloth to preserve the penmanship.

If you look closely at the names recorded, you'll see the name J.S. Allen, the merchant who shouted for the men in town to get their guns. What's remarkable, is after the failed robbery the bank continued recording in the ledger.

In 1870s America, banks didn't carry the peace-of-mind of federally-insured deposits. Bank robberies devastated towns and sent people into financial ruin. A museum employee was kind enough to have a conversation with Landen and Madelyn about the handwritten logs, and how they differ from account management today.

(The large, beautiful windows let in a lot of natural light.)

As Landen read the exhibit notes, and realizing he was standing where Jesse James once stood, it made the stories come alive. I firmly believe that learning in a classroom only takes you so far. When you can connect the lesson to a real life experience, the effect is everlasting and deeply impactful.

Northfield celebrates the bravery of its citizens with a festival every September, the Defeat of Jesse James Days, featuring reenactments and parades. Minnesota may be known for being "nice," but its people have shown that we are not ones to be messed with. That spirit lives on.

Should you find yourself in the Twin Cities, it is worth the drive to visit the site that stopped Jesse James.

The Historic First National Bank of Northfield Site
408 Division Street, Northfield 55057
*There is a small admission fee and specific operating hours, but well worth it for the step back in time.