The Sun Sunnyvale's Newspaper Markers are sites for sore eyes By Deborah Taylor-Hollis When I was a kid, we called them "hysterical markers," those plaques with bears in the corners by the side of the road throughout the state. They were hysterical because they always seemed to tell you about some historical site that no longer existed on the forlorn stretch of freeway you were traveling: "Here, in 1843, some guy you don't know started a flour mill because the stagecoach that ran only five miles from here was convenient. The mill burned to the ground in six months, the guy moved away and no one ever came here again." I once drove myself and some college friends for more than four hours on dirty back roads during construction in the gold country in search of Mark Twain's cabin, one of the most forlorn sites in the state. Mind you, the actual cabin had burned down years ago, and a "replica" was constructed on the same site using his original chimney and hearth area. Still, I just had to blow a day to go see the place where he had been writing, creating, making his future. History is so cool, even when it's replicated bogus history. Now that we have an RV and a child to impart history to like a friendly flogging, I bought the state parks historical landmarks book, with everything listed by county. I am sad to say that Santa Clara County has done little or nothing to get our heritage listed and preserved. Every place in the state that any member of Gen. Vallejo's family ever went is a historical site, from brother Jose's flour mill in Fremont to the parents' home site. Every spot Fremont pitched camp is given a marker, and of course, Father Serra's Habitat for Missions crusade is commemorated behind every rock and tree statewide. Christmas Tree Lane in Altadena has a plaque; the "Shell Mound," a garbage site of the American Indians in Emeryville, has a plaque. Everywhere the Pony Express kicked a rock, they've put up a plaque, and despite the thousands of deserving people who died coming overland to California, there's only one commemorative plaque--for Rachel Melton of Iowa, marking where she died in Kirkwood. She was the "joy of the party," so they got her a plaque. Every adobe, bridge, mining bar, hanging tree or place Gaspar de Portola saw through the porthole of the galleon on his way north got a plaque. Every "first church," "first courthouse," "first ferry," "first graveyard," "first temple," "first joss house" and "first drunk who got run over in the road" in other counties has a plaque. The grave of Elthia Cumi Donner, one of the survivors of the ill-fated Donner party, has a plaque in Sacramento. Our county has plaques marking three adobes, one mission, two mines, one hot springs, six homes, two schools, four towns, one flour mill, two foundries, an arroyo crossed in 1776, one hill, one post office, two churches, a Japanese house, an introduced honeybee, a birthplace (the garage where H-P was launched) and 12 "sites"--places where something good happened that have since been torn down or burned to the ground. We must have more than 20 Donner party members buried at Oak Hill, but not one plaque for any of them or the houses they lived in or the businesses they started. We have lots of important buildings, theaters, churches and private homes in San Jose alone--none commemorated by "the plaque." If it weren't for the three adobes and the quicksilver mines, you'd think Santa Clara Valley sprang up full-bore from Tom McEnery's head like a child of Zeus. When I grew up chasing down those elusive roadside historical markers and shaking my head at the flotsam they commemorated, little did I know I would one day shake it in shame for this county--a place where, nothing good seemingly ever happened. [ Back to Contents Page | Sunnyvale Sun Home Page | Archives ] This article appeared in the Sunnyvale Sun, October 21, 1998. ©1998 Metro Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved.