CALIFORNIA S T A T E LIBRARY FOUNDATION

C A L I F O R N I A S T A T E L I B R A R Y F O U N D A T I O N

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EDITOR

Gary F. Kurutz

EDITORIAL ASSISTANTS

Brittneydawn Cook Gene Kennedy

COPY EDITOR

M. Patricia Morris

BOARD OF DIRECTORS

Kenneth B. Noack, Jr. President

Marilyn Snider Vice-President

Mike Ueltzen Treasurer

Jeff Volberg Secretary

Greg Lucas State Librarian of California

Phillip L. Isenberg Thomas W. Stallard Phyllis Smith Susan Glass

Katherine Weedman-Cox

Brittneydawn Cook Gene Kennedy Executive Director Foundation Administrator

Shelley Ford Bookkeeper

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C A L I F O R N I A S T A T E L I B R A R Y F O U N D A T I O N

Number 1282020

2 Anonymous Black Gold Seeker at Auburn Ravine, 1852 By Shirley Ann Wilson Moore

4 Discoveries in the Library’s Archives: Louis J Stellman’s Photographs of the Women Who Fought Slavery in San Francisco’s Chinatown By Julia Siler

10 Meet Designer and Artist Angela Tannehill-Caldwell By M. Patricia Morris

14 From Pollywog to Shellback: The Story of the SS Adolph Sutro By Carolina Basave and Mattie Taormina

20 Tale of a City: Community Resistance to Redevelopment in Sacramento’s Japantown By Moriah Ulinskas

26 Foundation Notes The Trail Turtles Archive By Gary F. Kurutz

28 Recent Contributors

Front Cover: Daguerreotype of Black Miner Working a Sluice Box in Auburn Ravine, circa 1852. Quarter-plate daguerreotype by Joseph Blaney Starkweather.

Back Cover: How Does Your Garden Grow, mixed media piece by Angela Tannehill.

Illustrations and Photo Credits: Pages 2-3, California History Section, California State Library; pp. 4-9, Cameron House, San Francisco and California History Section; pp. 10-13, Angela Tannehill-Caldwell; pp. 14-19, Sutro Library, California State Library and Naval Historical Foundation; pp. 20-25, Center for Sacramento History and Sacramento Bee; p. 27, Oregon-California Trails Association.

Design: Angela Tannehill-Caldwell | www.angelacaldwell.art

California State Library Foundation 1225 8th Street, Suite 345, Sacramento, CA 95814 tel: 916.447.6331 | web: www.cslfdn.org | email: [email protected]

2 C A L I F O R N I A S T A T E L I B R A R Y F O U N D A T I O N

Dr. Shirley Moore is Professor of History, Emerita, California State University,

Sacramento. She is a highly acclaimed scholar in the field of African American studies.

She is the author of “Sweet Freedom’s Plains: African Americans on the Overland

Trails,1841-1869,” which won the 2019 Barbara Sudler Award for the best nonfiction

work on a Western American subject written by a woman.

Anonymous Black Gold Seeker at Auburn Ravine, 1852

By Shirley Ann Wilson Moore, Ph.D

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 3

oseph B. Starkweather’s

daguerreotype of an unnamed

black miner posing with shovel

in hand in front of a sluice box somewhere

in Placer County’s Auburn Ravine, circa

1852, recalls the old saying “a picture is

worth a thousand words.”(See Editor’s

Note) While the miner’s name and

nationality are lost to history, he was likely

an African American who shared with his

gold-seeking counterparts, irrespective of

race or nationality, a willingness to endure

the harsh and perilous conditions of the

goldfields for a chance to “strike it rich.”

The image, one of the treasures of the

California History Section of the California

State Library, provides glimpses of the

life and times of this man, but when the

racial landscape of the United States in the

nineteenth century is considered, a fuller

picture emerges.

Like all 19th-century African Americans,

he lived in a society that consigned him to

a subordinate status. Whether enslaved or

free, black people had few legal rights, were

denied the franchise, and were particularly

vulnerable to exploitation of all kinds because

of race. If he were a slave, he likely was com-

pelled to leave his family behind to accom-

pany his owner to the goldfields. His only

solace was his owner’s promise of manumis-

sion for him and his loved ones in exchange

for his labor. Unfortunately, many slaveown-

ers reneged on their promise. This was the

plight of Kentucky-born slave Alvin Coffey

who trekked from Missouri to California with

his owner in 1849. Although his owner had

promised that Coffey could purchase freedom

for himself and his wife and children, he

broke his promise, stole Coffey’s hard-earned

gold, and sold him to a new master. Coffey

would make three round-trips to California

with two different masters, work again as a

gold miner, and perform other jobs before

he had made enough money to finally buy

himself and his family out of bondage.

The black miner at Auburn Ravine may

have been a free man. If so, he, like many

other free blacks, refused to remain in their

home states where black laws and anti-

black violence restricted their livelihoods

and threatened their lives. In a bid for real

freedom and opportunity, countless free

black people headed for California and other

western regions. If the anonymous black

miner were free but had family members

still enslaved back home, he may have been

like Peter Brown, a free black man from

Missouri who in 1851 was a gold miner

on the Cosumnes River. In a letter to his

wife, Alley, in St. Genevieve City, Missouri,

Brown revealed that his efforts were for

the purpose of getting enough money to

purchase their son’s freedom. If, however,

the black miner at Auburn Ravine were a

free man without loved ones still enslaved,

his story might have been like that of David

Brown. David was a free man from Ohio who

left his free-born wife Rachel in Ohio and

set out for California in 1852, bound for the

goldfields. He wanted Rachel to join him,

but she refused. David stayed in California

where he began a new life in Downieville

as a miner and businessman.

This daguerreotype is intriguing for

what it reveals but even more so for what

remains unknown. Fortunately, the image

of the anonymous black miner at Auburn

Ravine has been preserved, but his name,

his story, and his reasons for working in the

gold fields have yet to be discovered. These

things remain as hidden as the gold that he

and countless other anonymous argonauts

toiled so hard to find.

EDITOR’S NOTE

Unfortunately, little is known about the pioneer daguerreotypist Joseph Blaney Starkweather. A short biography of him was published

by Peter E. Palmquist and Thomas R. Kailbourn in Pioneer Photographers of the Far West: A Biographical Dictionary, 1840–1865, Stanford:

Stanford University Press, 2000, pp. 521–522. Born sometime between 1822 and 1827 in New York State, he came to California around

1852 but lived in Massachusetts through the 1850s and early 1860s. He worked as a photographer in San Francisco from 1867 to 1904. In

1880, he exhibited 10 daguerreotypes of mining scenes at the Fifteenth Industrial Exhibition at the Mechanics’ Institute in San Francisco,

which may have included the Starkweather quarter-plate daguerreotype in the Library’s collection, featured in Dr. Moore’s article. In

addition, the State Library has two other quarter-plate daguerreotypes by Starkweather taken in Placer County.

Starkweather employed the daguerreotype process. Invented in 1839, this is considered the first practical form of photography. Briefly,

the daguerreotype was made by using a thin sheet of copper plated with silver and sensitized with iodine in a portable dark tent when

on the road. The plate was then exposed in the camera for several minutes to make a “latent” image which was, in turn, made visible

by exposing the plate to mercury vapors. Once fixed, this “mirror image” of sensitive chemicals was placed under a glass shield and

inserted into a protective case usually made of wood and leather. Each image is unique and did not involve the positive-negative process.

Fortunately, with digitization, the full glory of these highly detailed and unique images can be readily seen on a computer. The vast

majority of daguerreotypes were portraits. Open-air scenes like the Auburn Ravine image are extremely rare as it took a great logistical

effort for these early photographers to set up their dark tents, equipment, chemicals, and compose the scene.


Tien Fuh Wu (standing in the back, on the left) and Donaldina Cameron (seated, center), with a group of women who may have been Mission Home staffers. Photo by Louis B. Stellman, California State Library.

Discoveries in the Library’s ArchivesLouis J Stellman’s Photographs of the Women Who Fought Slavery in San Francisco’s ChinatownBy Julia Flynn Siler

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 5

our years into my research for

my recent nonfiction book,

The White Devil’s Daughters, I came

across a photograph that upended my under-

standing of the role Asian women played in

the fight against slavery. Snapped in the early

twentieth century, it was a formal portrait

of six women. Two were white; the other

four were Chinese. All wore light-colored

garments unsuited to their daily work in a

group home where as many as sixty people

lived at any one time. The white women in

the portrait wore summer muslin gowns

with delicate lace. The Asian women wore

shimmering quipao gowns, whose high col-

lars were joined by fabric frogs.

The setting was a light-filled parlor in

the Presbyterian Mission House, an often-

chaotic refuge for trafficked and vulnerable

women in San Francisco’s Chinatown.

After the photographer set up his camera,

he arranged the six women in front of a

dark, wood-paneled wall, placing the white

woman with the Gibson Girl bun in the

center of the frame. At the moment the

shutter clicked, both of the white women

gazed languidly off to the side. The four

Asian women, in contrast, looked directly

at the camera lens, as if any fear they might

have felt as immigrants living in a time of

virulent anti-Chinese racism was gone. The

photograph gives equal visual prominence

to both the Chinese and the white women.

This portrait came as a revelation to me.

Asian activists and anti-slavery pioneers had

been all but cropped out of the frame by

Julia Flynn Siler is the author of The White

Devil’s Daughters: The Women Who

Fought Slavery in San Francisco’s Chi-

natown (Alfred A. Knopf, 2019) a finalist

in nonfiction for a California Book Award.

She is a longtime staffer at the Community

of Writers in the High Sierra, which will cel-

ebrate its 50th anniversary next summer. For

more information, please visit www.juliafly-

nnsiler.com.

Discoveries in the Library’s ArchivesLouis J Stellman’s Photographs of the Women Who Fought Slavery in San Francisco’s ChinatownBy Julia Flynn Siler


most photographers and historians from that

time, in favor of portrayals that cast white

colleagues—women and men—in heroic,

larger-than-life roles. But this photo visually

articulates the key role that Asian women

played in a seven decades-long fight against

slavery waged from the home. Taken by the

photographer and journalist Louis J. Stell-

man, possibly to accompany a newspaper

feature story, it is one of three surviving

images from that session preserved by the

California State Library. Not only did it

change my understanding of the dynamics

between the characters in my history, but

it also forced me to reexamine some early

assumptions in my research.

Stellman’s photo challenges the endur-

ing myth that has surrounded Donaldina

Cameron, the woman with the Gibson Girl

bun. It topples the mistaken belief that the

Chinatown “safe house,” now renamed in

her honor as Cameron House, was an opera-

tion she ran single-handedly. It does this by

showing us the people who actually ran the

home. They were Chinese and white women

who lived, worked, and ate together most

days in a large house located at 920 Sacra-

mento Street, an old brick building made of

clinker bricks that had been salvaged from

the 1906 earthquake and firestorms.

Together, the Chinese and white staffers

fought the “slave girl trade”—a criminal sex

trafficking enterprise that thrived between

China and the U.S. Their work made for

Donaldina Cameron and some of the residents of the Mission Home. Photo by Louis B. Stellman, California State Library.

The dust jacket for Siler's epic chronicle. Cover design by Jenny Carrow. Image of girl courtesy of Cameron House.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 7

good copy. There were countless newspaper

and magazine stories about the efforts to

disrupt this profitable and violent business

in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but

most contemporary readers identified that

crusade with just one woman. For nearly

four decades, from the end of the Victorian

era to the end of the Great Depression,

that woman was Cameron, the youngest

daughter of a Scottish sheep rancher and

his wife. She arrived at the home in 1895

to teach sewing and became the home’s

superintendent four years later. Tall, charis-

matic, and articulate, she was typically the

focus of the journalists’ often sensational

stories of rooftop rescues and missionaries

busting down the doors of brothels.

Cameron wasn’t the whole story, though.

I came to realize that not only did she rely

heavily on Asian colleagues to run the home

on a day-to-day basis, but she also needed

them to accompany her on the dramatic

“rescues” that captured the public imagina-

tion. Because Cameron did not speak or read

Chinese, due in part to a tin ear for music

and languages, her Chinese colleagues

were often the first point of contact with

the home’s staffers. In crucial immigration

hearings and courtrooms, it was the home’s

Chinese aides who translated and served

as chaperones and guards to the vulner-

able women. When survivors of trafficking

rings testified to California State legislators

in 1901, it was the home’s Chinese staffers

who made sure their words were understood

by the politicians who would ultimately, as

a result of the hearings, pass one of Cali-

fornia’s first anti-trafficking laws.

For decades, Cameron was the public face

of the Mission House. She was resilient,

courageous, and a highly effective fund-

raiser, often spending weeks at a time cross-

ing the state of California. She transfixed

society ladies with stories of brothel raids

and slave girls as a way to convince them to

support her crusade. She travelled across

the country checking up on the home’s far-

flung former residents, many of whom had

married, and raising money so her organiza-

Donaldina Cameron (far left) and police officers stage a rescue of a Chinese girl. Not the Asian colleague on Cameron’s left. Courtesy of Cameron House.

Together, the Chinese and white staffers fought the

“slave girl trade”–a criminal sex trafficking enterprise that thrived

between China and the U.S. Their work made for good copy.


Donaldina Cameron (center) and unnamed Asian assistant supporting a distressed young woman, aided by law enforcement officials. Photo by Louis J. Stellman, California State Library

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 9

tion could continue its work of disrupting

trafficking—and expand. Word spread and

soon the home began overflowing with resi-

dents. It then expanded—opening a new

home designed by architect Julia Morgan in

Oakland for younger residents. That second

home became known as “Ming Quong,” or

“Radiant Light.”

While Cameron was on the road, Asian

staffers did much of the work of running

the two homes. They’d feed, clothe, and

maintain the health of its vulnerable resi-

dents. Sometimes, they’d assist when babies

were born or disease broke out, as during

the outbreaks of the bubonic plague in

Chinatown or the terrible flu pandemic of

1918–1919, which sickened nearly all the

home’s residents and staffers. They’d work

with law enforcement officers to assist girls

and women who sought refuge at the home

on Sacramento Street, in the shadow of

Nob Hill. As many as 3,000 people passed

through the home’s doors from the time

it opened as a safe house in 1874 to the

time its mission changed in the mid-1930s.

Stellman’s photograph underscored my

growing awareness that Cameron and the

other white superintendents of the home

could not have done their work without their

Asian colleagues.

One Chinese colleague, in particular,

became a key player in this long, and often

violent fight against slavery. Tien Fuh Wu

is one of the six women in Stellman’s photo-

graph. She stands between the seated Cam-

eron and the other white woman, probably

the assistant Ethel Higgins. A former child

slave sold by her father in China to pay his

gambling debts, she ended up working as

a servant in a Chinatown brothel before a

policeman heard of her abuse and brought

her to safety at the Mission House. With the

help of a sponsor, she attended a prestigious

boarding school in Philadelphia and then a

Bible college in Toronto, before returning to

work at the home in 1911. She spent much

of the rest of her life as a staffer there, liv-

ing and working closely with Cameron for

decades. It was Wu, alongside the white col-

league Ethel Higgins, who nursed to health

the many residents sickened by the so-called

“Spanish Flu” pandemic more than a century

ago. (None of the residents died from it.)

I’d begun to realize that Wu was a crucial

part of the home’s story, yet I’d found very

few photographs of her. I scoured news-

papers, which focused on Cameron, and

poured through archives, including those

of the Yale Divinity School, the National

Archives and Records Administration,

and the Presbyterian Historical Society in

Philadelphia. Then, on a Friday afternoon

in mid-November of 2017, about three years

into my research, an unexpected email

landed in my inbox. “Ms. Siler—I previ-

ously sent you information on the images

of Donaldina Cameron you requested,”

wrote Senior Librarian Marianne Leach.

But she had discovered a new set of group

photographs of Ms. Cameron, her staff, and

students. She asked, “Are you interested in

these further images or is the original set

sufficient for your purpose?”

Was I ever! About a month later, the set

of three remarkable black and white por-

traits arrived. In the online catalogue, the

sole person identified in the photograph is

Cameron, which was typical of the many

photographs I found of the Mission Home

during my research. Luckily, by then, I’d

done enough digging to understand what

the photograph meant. I could also identify

both Wu and Higgins.

Stellman’s photograph was taken after Wu

returned to work at the Mission House at

920 Sacramento Street in 1911. (The series

of photographs that Stellman took that day

are not precisely dated: the California State

Library notes indicate that they were taken

between 1908 and 1915.) Her jaw is set.

There’s only the barest hint of a smile in

the uplifted corners of her eyes. It is easy

to imagine Wu tallying up in her mind the

day’s long list of tasks ahead of her. A woman

known for keeping a detailed list of chores

that residents jokingly called her “Book of

Lamentations,” Wu was an exacting and

disciplined housekeeper in her early years

as a staffer at the home. Later on, she would

travel solo across the country on the home’s

business and plan and execute the rescues

of trafficked women—an extraordinary role

for an unmarried, Chinese-born woman

at that time.

Wu’s solid shoulders fill her formal qipao.

In the photograph, she’s not relaxed. But I

can imagine she felt she’d earned her place

alongside the other staffers. From reading

Tien’s letters and researching her life, I know

she was resilient and had a biting sense of

humor, especially in her work of helping

to arrange marriages for residents of the

home. “Everybody is after me for girls,” Wu

wrote to Cameron on a trip to Boston in

1915 where she checked up on a married

former resident. “I might as well open a

Matrimonial Bureau here in the east,” she

joked, an acknowledgment of the role that

the home played as a matchmaker over the

years. Wu was the bouncer, the enforcer, and

the toughest and most passionate defender

of the home’s vulnerable residents. The arc

of her life moved from overcoming her own

vulnerability as a child to a lifetime of car-

ing for others.

As I begin the research for my next book—

an investigative history of an unsolved mur-

der during California’s Gilded Age—I’ve

become more aware of the power that images

have to reveal truths that written records

can’t show us. Stellman’s photograph of

the women from the Presbyterian Mission

Home has forced me to think more deeply

about who was actually in charge of working

with the trafficked women on a day-to-day

basis. It was not who I first thought it was.

Likewise, when I learned that Cameron and

Wu were buried together in the same family

plot, that discovery reinforced my belief that

they were colleagues working alongside each

other in a decades-long fight against slavery,

rather than famed employer and unnamed

staffer. I’m deeply grateful to the California

State Library archivists for preserving this

photograph and helping reshape the way

we understand history.

1 0 C A L I F O R N I A S T A T E L I B R A R Y F O U N D A T I O N

Meet Designer and Artist Angela Tannehill-CaldwellBy M. Patricia Morris

id you see the last issue of this

Bulletin? On the front cover is

a nearly full-page image of a blond,

curly-haired woman reaching out to you with

an expression of intense emotion on her

face. Dressed in red, white, and blue patri-

otic costume, she is a figure from another

time, no doubt from one of the wars. How

can you resist opening the publication to

find out about her?

The striking cover is just one of fifty

designer Angela Tannehill-Caldwell has

created to entice readers to open and explore

the contents of the California State Library

Foundation Bulletin. Once inside, readers

have found issues that are beautifully laid

out with inviting, readable typefaces and

images positioned to their best and often

most dramatic effect.

Until recently, the credit line appeared

on the Bulletin’s title page—Design: Angela

Tannehill, Tannehill Design. In October

2019, Angela remarried. As a result, the

credit line now reads Design: Angela Tanne-

hill-Caldwell Design | www.angelacaldwell.

art. Since there is so much information out

there under Tannehill, she plans to keep it

as part of the firm name at least for a while.

As the Bulletin’s copy editor and occasional

contributor, in a way, I have been a colleague

of Angela Tannehill-Caldwell’s for sixteen

years, but I only met her for the first time

on July 21, 2020. That was the day I set up

a Zoom conversation to find out more about

her and her work. It was a delight at long last

to see and speak with our congenial designer.

Mer-Magic, 22" x 30", hand-cut collage by Angela Tannehill-Caldwell

http://www.angelacaldwell.art


B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 1 1

Meet Designer and Artist Angela Tannehill-CaldwellBy M. Patricia Morris

In Search of a Career in New York City What was it that led Angela to choose a

career in design, a field which seems such

a perfect fit for her artistic talents? I was

curious. As the story unfolded, I learned that

Angela was originally from the East Coast.

She was born in Kentucky and raised in

Ohio, where she attended Kent State Univer-

sity, earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree.

“After college,” she reminisced, “the funny

thing is I read a Sidney Sheldon book, and

there was a character that did typesetting.

I didn’t even know what typesetting was,

but it sounded glamorous and cool, and her

character was in New York City. I felt, why

not? I could try that.”

Angela happened to have a friend who

had moved to New York City after gradua-

tion. She went to visit her. “I basically called

every magazine in the phone book—there

was an actual phone book—until I found

someone who needed an assistant,” Angela

said. She succeeded in landing an internship

as a graphic designer with Countryside, a

magazine with an emphasis on rural life.

She stayed for a couple of years and then

decided to leave the city. She had become

close friends with a woman who was at the

same shop where Angela worked. Both

women had become “kind of tired” of New

York living. Their plan was to move to San

Francisco. Fortunately for us, they didn’t

make it to the City by the Bay. Her friend’s

family lived in Elk Grove. The two came

west for a visit and didn’t go farther. They

both settled in the Sacramento area. Angela

remains a resident of Elk Grove to this day.

Along the way, she worked for employ-

ers such as Hearst Magazines in produc-

tion and The Dunlavey Studio as a graphic

designer. Then in May 2002, she established

her own firm. As the owner of Tannehill

Design, her list of services included graphic

design; brand/logo design; website design

and development; publication design; and

production management, including pho-

tography, illustration, and printing.

In 2004, the California State Library

Foundation (CSLF) became one of her cli-

ents. Gary Kurutz, who was then execu-

tive director of the foundation and editor of

the CSLF Bulletin, a position he still holds,

was looking for a new designer. Actually,

it was Gary’s wife, KD Kurutz, who knew

of Angela’s work and steered him in her

direction. Contemplating her many years

of work on the Bulletin, Angela noted, “It’s

been a lot, but it’s been great. It’s an easy

job to do and certainly, there are so many

good photos and illustrations. It’s always

exciting to get the materials for the next

issue—all that history. I just love it,” she

said. The first issue Angela designed was

No. 78, Spring/Summer 2004. We are now

at issue No. 128.

A Designer for Do-GoodersAngela describes her work on LinkedIn in

this way: “I am a mixed-media artist and

graphic designer based in Sacramento, Cali-

fornia. I am a self-employed ‘designer for

do-gooders,’ providing services primarily to

local nonprofit organizations.” She enjoys

working with a variety of clients that tend

to be smaller businesses. “But, for the most

part I like working with nonprofits,” she said.

“It doesn’t feel good to work on something,

and promote something, and do your best

to bring people to a group or a product that

you don’t believe in. I kind of steer away

from that,” she explained.

Specializing in do-gooders “sort of

evolved,” Angela said. Ten years ago, she

started working pro bono for 916 Ink. Based

in Sacramento, the nonprofit offers writing

workshops for children in grades 3–12, with

the goal of transforming them into “confi-

dent writers and published authors.”1 Many

of the program’s participants come from at-

risk situations—foster care, homelessness,

involvement in the juvenile justice system.

“They are learning creative writing,” Angela

observed, but in the process, they are build-

ing such a sense of self-esteem. That to me

is the core of it.”

Over time her involvement with 916 Ink

“grew so much it couldn’t be pro bono,” she

C A L I F O R N I A S T A T E L I B R A R Y F O U N D A T I O NN u m b e r 1 2 72 0 2 0

Bulletin 127

Pretty Lies is a mixed media collage was created by first digitally painting and collaging pieces together, followed by printing and cutting out pieces of the image and reassembling them on a painted wooden surface.


nesses are open in the evening for wine,

food, exhibits, and other festivities, Angela

went to see a show by collage artist Jill Allyn

Stafford. She had met Stafford at 916 Ink

where she was on its board of directors.

Angela stopped by to say hello and see her

exhibit at ARTHOUSE on R Gallery and

Studios, located in downtown Sacramento

at 1021 R Street.

“I saw her collage work,” Angela said,

“and I thought, you know, that looks like

something I would really be interested in.

I had these little 3" x 3" tiles that had been

sitting around forever and I started collag-

ing on those tiny little tiles. It just sort of

took off from there.”

What I liked about collage is the same

thing I liked about design—especially the

Bulletin—you get to draw from other images

to create something new. Those images

bring with them the history that they have,

and you are looking at it in a new light.” She

proceeded to describe the main person in

an illustration she did called Mer-Magic.

The person was a renaissance figure that

she had taken out of the original context. “I

created something new out of it, but it still

feels like it has some of that history to it in

the new image. That’s one of the things I

really like about collage.”

The collages are stunning. In an article in

Submerge Magazine in 2017, author Andrew

C. Russell described her craftsmanship so

beautifully when he wrote: “In the two odd

years since she began working on her mixed

media pieces—found cutouts layered and

blended into textured background paint-

ing—she has honed a special knack for

creating surrealist landscapes possessed

of a storytelling power.”2

In a relatively short period of time, Ange-

la’s artwork has appeared in many exhibi-

tions. While most have been in Sacramento,

she has also shown in Berkeley, San Fran-

cisco, Santa Cruz, and Seattle.

Angela had a solo show scheduled to

open in September 2020 at Sparrow Gal-

lery, downstairs at ARTHOUSE on R. Like

the plans of so many Americans, this one

was disrupted by Covid-19. She didn’t feel

she could ask people to come to a gallery

and look at her art in the middle of a pan-

demic, and the show was postponed. She

was also concerned that all the pictures she

planned to exhibit had a black background.

“While they afforded striking images, as I

said. It is now her main client. At the end

of each 12-week session, the writings of the

young authors are compiled into anthologies.

Angela has designed over 100 of these books,

sometimes illustrating them as well. Since

2010, the organization has served more than

4,000 kids.

The California State Library Foundation

and 916 Ink are not the only do-gooders

for whom Angela provides design services.

Eureka Schools Foundation (ESF) in Granite

Bay has been a client for a long time. ESF

provides support for students in the Eureka

Union School District. Angela said, “Given

our circumstances right now, that contract

has fallen through for the time being. We’ll

see what happens after the pandemic.” She

also provides graphic design in the form of

brochures, infographics, signage, etc.” for

a very large and well-known do-gooder—

Sutter Health.

A Second Career as a Mixed Media Artist About seven years ago, Angela embarked

on a new career as a mixed media artist.

On a Second Saturday, a monthly event in

Sacramento where galleries and local busi-

Fizz, 30" x 60" hand-cut collage by Angela Tannehill-Caldwell is on display in the private dining room at Fizz Champaign Bar in Sacramento.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 1 3

looked at it through the lens of the pandemic

and all the strife that’s going on, the black

background just didn’t feel like it was the

right time for it,” she explained.

Sadly, the pandemic caused her to give

up her studio at ARTHOUSE on R too.

“The only way to pay for the studio was to

get people to come to the studio. I am just

not asking people to come out now.” In the

interim, you can see samples of her works of

art on her website at www.angelacaldwell.

art. Instagram, though, is the best source

for viewing “new stuff,” by going to @dzn-

rgrl. Angela said this is “pronounced like

‘designer girl,’ which helps to remember it.”

Trying Out New MediaAngela has been exploring other media

besides collage. “I have gotten more into

digital painting,” she reported. “I do acrylic

painting as well, but I love having the free-

dom of the digital canvas. It is so similar to

painting, but it feels like I have more con-

trol.” Some of the subjects she has portrayed

digitally are a striking red octopus holding

mice and a fearsome crocodile with a hum-

mingbird. “I did a little series called mythical

mice,” she said. “I have a Mermouse, and a

Fairy Mouse, and a Unicorn Mouse, and a

Dragon Mouse, and a Pixie Mouse. Just little

paintings of cute mice. It was relaxing and

it was fun. There is just so much dark out

there right now, I just needed something

light and cheerful.”

Finding the Magic in NatureShe has also embarked on creating fiber art

sculptures using a felting technique. Some

of the sculptures featured on Instagram are

of an owl, a red fox, a ruby-throated hum-

mingbird, and a deer. “Nature,” Angela said,

“is my primary inspiration. When I was a

kid I grew up in the country and my parents

both worked kind of far from our home, so

we were alone a lot and we had fields to play

in and ponds that were about a half a mile

back. That’s what we did all day. We played

outside, caught things, chased things. It was

magical for me. I was always looking for

ENDNOTES

1 This description of the work of 916 Ink appears on its website at 916ink.org/about: “916 Ink is Sacramento’s arts-based creative writing nonprofit that provides workshops for Sacramento area youth, grades 3–12, in order to transform them into confident writ-ers and published authors. Our work-shops increase literacy skills, improve vocabulary, teach empathy, positively impact social and emotional learning, and expand communication skills.”

2 Russell, Andrew C., “Orchestrating A Dream: Angela Tannehill and the Power of the Wandering Mind,” Submerge Maga-

zine, (Sacramento), May 21, 2017, p. 19

something that might be magical in nature.

I think that’s why I have landed where I

have landed in this kind of magical realism.

It is somewhere between fantasy, surreal-

ism, and magic, so I am always looking for

something that feels magical.”

The Final WordsWhat does Ms. Tannehill-Caldwell like to

do for relaxation? She has two grown chil-

dren, who are both in their twenties and who

both live in the Sacramento area. She likes

to make some time in the backyard when

they come over and hang out. She takes

her dog for walks, and it’s not surprising

that she enjoys going for walks in nature.

“It would be nice to get out and do more of

that,” she said.

When I asked if there was anything else she

would like Bulletin readers to know, Angela

said, “I do want to stress how wonderful it

has been to work with Gary Kurutz all these

years. He is such a kind person and just very

supportive and sweet. Brittney Cook has come

on board, and she has been wonderful too.

I really enjoy working with them both and

I’m grateful I have the job, to have worked

on it for so many years, and to have seen all

the images.” What a gracious thought with

which to conclude a lovely conversation.

Flutter and Fox, 8" x 24", is a digitally painted and collaged artwork by Angela Tannehill-Caldwell




he acquisition was small—just a cer-

tificate, a picture of the ship, and a

small, white card with “Leonard R.

Gray” printed on the front—yet it inspired

so many questions. What was this ship used

for? When was it in operation? Why was the

ship named after Adolph Sutro? Who was

Leonard R. Gray? In the fall semester of

2019, article co-author Carolina Basave, then

a San Francisco State University undergrad-

uate majoring in history, agreed to spend her

twenty hours of required community service

to help answer some of these questions.

The ShipThe first question Carolina tackled was what

kind of ship was the SS Adolph Sutro? Caro-

lina quickly learned from a Wikipedia search

that the SS Adolph Sutro was classified as a

Liberty ship. The creation of the SS Adolph

Sutro and other Liberty ships was part of a

government program tasked to build simple

cargo ships to carry troops and materials

during World War II, with an eye towards

speedy construction.1 Liberty ships “were

built on a mass-production scale in order to

save supplies . . . [as] the war progressed, the

ships were also utilized as troop transports

in the convoys.” Additionally, the ships took

approximately 70 days to complete as “the

250,000 parts were pre-fabricated through-

out the country in 250-ton sections and The Line Crossing Ceremony certificate earned by army private “L.Gray”

in 1943 on board Liberty Ship SS Adolph Sutro. Sutro Library.

From Pollywog to Shellback

The Story of the SS Adolph SutroBy Carolina Basave, San Francisco State University Senior

and History major, and Mattie Taormina, director, Sutro Library

INTRODUCTION

Today’s San Franciscans are familiar with the name Sutro because it is tightly integrated into

their physical environment: Sutro Heights, Sutro Baths, Sutro Tower, Mount Sutro, etc. In

addition to Adolph Sutro’s surname being attached to these San Francisco places, it was also

attached to another object that would carry its name across the seas: the SS Adolph Sutro.

This interesting part of naval history came to light when the CSL Foundation helped the

Sutro Library acquire an original SS Adolph Sutro Crossing of the Line certificate.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 1 5

June 4, 1943 the SS Adolph Sutro was completed and launched from Richmond, California. Courtesy of the Naval Historical Foundation,

collection of Rear Admiral Paul H. Bastedo, USN.

Image of United States Liberty Ship: SS Adolph Sutro from 1946. Sutro Library.

welded together.” The program ran from

late 1940 to September 1945 and produced

6,000 ships, including 2,600 Liberty ships,

one of which was the SS Adolph Sutro.

The speed and efficiency of building so

many Liberty ships was in large part due to

the Kaiser shipyards in Richmond, Califor-

nia, and it was exciting to learn that those

California workers built the SS Sutro.

The SS Sutro launched on 4 June 19435

and did indeed carry troops and cargo

during the war. Proof of this service was

found online in a cruise book for the 63rd

Naval Construction Battalion. Cruise books

documented the daily life and voyages of a

ship’s crew in narrative form, supplemented

with an abundance of pictures.6 The 63rd’s

cruise book mentioned the SS Sutro sailing

from Manus Island off the coast of Papua,

New Guinea:

On 14 March [1945], loading of heavy

equipment started aboard the S.S.

Adolph Sutro. Outgoing mail was

secured at noon on 23 March and the

battalion was alerted for movement at

a moment’s notice. Seabags and duf-

fle bags went aboard the Sutro on 24

March, and she sailed that afternoon

for Hollandia for additional construc-

tion materials7

Eventually, the SS Sutro was reportedly

scrapped in 1961.8

The CeremonyThe mimeographed certificate commemo-

rates the occasion of “Leonard R Gray’s”

crossing the equator in the Pacific Ocean.

Since this seemed like an odd thing to com-

memorate, Carolina researched the history

and significance crossing the equator has

to maritime history.

The Sutro Library’s certificate represents

“Leonard R. Gray’s” participation in a long-

held maritime tradition called Crossing the

Line or Line Crossing ceremony. Thomas

Wildenberg noted in Naval History Maga-

zine in 2014, the Line Crossing ceremony

might have evolved from Viking rituals,

passed on to Anglo-Saxons and Normans,

with the purpose of testing the newest

members of a ship’s crew to see if they

could endure the hardships at sea.9 Addi-

tionally, Wildenberg states:

“The Crossing the Line ceremony, one of

the oldest customs at sea, is a rite of pas-

sage for landlubbers and seamen alike

who have never before crossed the equa-

tor, or line. In the boisterous ceremonies

that accompany a ship’s crossing, the

“pollywogs,” those on board who have

never crossed the line, are initiated into

King Neptune’s realm in a series of haz-

ing rituals conducted by “shellbacks,”

those who have already experienced this

tumultuous rite of passage.”10

What is it about the equator that inspires

this frivolity and faux pomp and circum-

stance? According to Wildenberg, the equa-

tor represents the home of the Neptunus


Rex or King Neptune, ruler of the deep and

guardian of the mysteries of the sea. The

night before the ship crosses the equator,

Davy Jones (a member of King Neptune’s

royal court) appears in front of the ship’s

captain with a message on behalf of King

Neptune, “…stating at what time he wanted

the ship to hove to receive the royal party.”11

Davy Jones then subpoenaed all the polly-

wogs and requested them “to appear before

the royal court on the morrow to be initiated

in the mysteries of King Neptune’s Royal

Domain.” The subpoenas would include a

long list of fake offenses the pollywogs were

charged with like “too many captain’s masts,

excessive liberty, or seasickness.”

Once King Neptune and his royal court

appeared on deck, his flag known as the

“Jolly Roger” (the black flag emblazed with

white skull and crossbones so ubiquitous

in pirate movies) would be flown and the

ceremony would commence.12 The ceremony

involved scripted hazing which, according

to the U.S. Navy, included, “embarrassing

tasks, gags, obstacles, physical hardships,

and generally good-humored mischief—

all of which were meant to entertain the

shellbacks and degrade the pollywog.”13 It

is estimated that the hazing rituals could

last twelve hours or more, but once com-

pleted, the pollywogs became shellbacks

and worthy members of King Neptune’s

realm. According to the sources consulted

for this article, every ship practiced their

own unique hazing rituals, making each

shellback’s experience unique to them.

According to the U.S. Navy, the Crossing

the Line (or Equator) ceremonies are com-

pletely voluntary,14 and not every ship and

crew participates or practices the ceremony.

One interesting aspect of the Crossing the

Line ceremonies is the temporary flattening

of the military’s traditional power structure

and authority. Traditionally, United States,

Royal, and other British-descended navies

lower their country’s flag and instead hoist the

Jolly Roger before the line ceremony begins.

By lowering their country’s flag, the ship

has effectively removed the home country’s

President Roosevelt pleads his case before King Neptune’s Court. Courtesy of the Naval Historical Foundation, collection of Rear Admiral Paul H. Bastedo, USN.

James Roosevelt (center), son of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, participates as a “Pollywog” during Neptune ceremonies on board USS Indianapolis (CA-35), November 1936. Courtesy of the Naval Historical Foundation, collection of Rear Admiral Paul H. Bastedo, USN.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 1 7

jurisdiction and control of the ship’s admin-

istrative, technical, and social matters. In

essence, the ship, floating in international

waters, belongs to no one, no country. The

hierarchy of military command is suspended

and flattened so that Neptunus Rex, the most

powerful man on the ship, is not the ship’s

captain, but instead, the oldest or most senior

shellback on the crew, regardless of rank or

title. In fact, when President Franklin D.

Roosevelt participated in the Crossing of

the Line ceremony on board the USS India-

napolis in November 1936 while on a “Good

Neighbor” cruise to South America, he had

to plead his case before the Royal Court of

Shellbacks like every other pollywog. The

charges brought against President Roosevelt

by King Neptune’s court were disregard for

the traditions of the sea and taking liberties

with the piscatorial subjects of His Majesty

Neptunus Rex.15

Along with Davy Jones and King Neptune,

some other members of the royal party or

court included:

Her Highness Amphitrite

The Scribe

The Doctor

The Barber

The Royal Baby

The Navigator

The Chaplain

The Jesters and the Devil

While Her Highness Amphitrite was

Photograph of submariner, YNSN Scotty H.’s Crossing

the Line Certificate.

often a young seaman dressed as a female

in a skirt made of seaweed and rope, the

Royal Baby was usually the girthiest man

in the crew wearing a diaper. Also joining

King Neptune’s royal court would be a notary

and/or chancellor, whose job it was to enter

the names of the candidates to be sentenced

by the court.

The Certificate The last question Carolina had time to

investigate was the production of the cer-

tificate itself. Many Crossing of the Line

certificates issued during World War II were

incredibly detailed, vibrant in color, and

contained a short description of what the

certificate signified. Many of them included

Latin phrases alongside drawings of mer-

maids, the ocean, a globe, King Neptune,

dolphins and other marine life, and mythi-

cal creatures.

While the Sutro Library’s certificate was a

mimeographed copy of a quickly assembled

sketch, it nevertheless included illustrations

such as mermaids, clamshells, a map of

the world including the ocean, and even

King Neptune’s trident. The certificate is

not as colorful as some other certificates

from the time, but none of these certifi-

cates were “officially” created or issued by

the government. Each certificate’s creation

seemed to fall to local practice, with a few

local commands designing and printing

such items as the Shellback certificate in

their own print shops. Many certificates were

originally drawn and lettered by the men

who participated in the event, and then all

the copies were handed out to the crew.16

Regardless of the lack of color and detail,

the Sutro Library’s certificate is signifi-

cant, as it proves that even during wartime

conditions, ships still exercised the long

maritime tradition of initiating men into

King Neptune’s world.

In 1953, the certificates for the line cross-

ing began to be made, and continue to be

made, by a small, woman-owned firm,

Tiffany Publishing Company in Norfolk,

Virginia.17

Small white card that came with the mimeographed certificate. Sutro Library.


the pollywogs had to keep a raw oyster

in their mouths for a couple of hours

while we crawled around on our knees

on the main deck. As we were crawling

around, the shellbacks threw food at

us and made us sing while dousing us

with a water hose. At the end you had to

pay a token to get into King Neptune’s

Court which was the raw oyster you

kept in your mouth.18

Another more recent example comes from

the USS Roosevelt. In January 22, 2009,

the USS Roosevelt issued an official press

release stating that the “Sailors aboard

the guided-missile destroyer USS Roos-

evelt (DDG 80) held a ‘crossing the line’

ceremony while deployed to the U.S. 5th

Fleet Area of Responsibility....”19 The press

release specifically calls out that the ship’s

leadership made sure that the high jinks

of the event stayed in line with the “good

order and discipline, and aligned with the

Navy’s anti-hazing policy.”

The stated goal of the Roosevelt’s cer-

emony was “to bring unity and camarade-

rie to the ship.”20 The ceremony featured

much more composed activities than what

might have happened in past, such as pol-

lywogs proving their singing abilities by

singing nautical-flavored songs like such

as “Popeye the Sailor Man” and “Sponge

Bob Square Pants” and a talent show the

night before featuring skits and songs to

build team spirit.

The certificates celebrating the transition

from pollywog to shellback are still being

conferred as well. Recent Crossing the Line

certificates earned by a current submariner,

YNSN Scotty H., look just as colorful as

past certificates.21

Researchers wishing to know more about

Line Crossing ceremonies and naval tradi-

tions should also note that there are many

other certificates that represent different

equator crossings based on a specific loca-

tion, ocean, or sea. There is the “Royal

Domain of the Penguin” for crossing the

Antarctic Circle, the “Northern Domain of

the Polar Bear” for crossing the Artic Circle,

and the “Golden Dragon” for crossing the

180th meridian (International Date Line)

to name a few.22

Conclusion It is astonishing how one piece of paper can

launch so many lines of inquiry, but many

of our initial questions remain unanswered:

Was the SS Sutro only stationed in the Pacific

Theater? Who was Leonard R. Gray? If the

boat was not decommissioned until the early

1960s, how was it used after the war? Did it

participate in any other wars? For now, these

questions remain unanswered but the Sutro

Library staff are grateful to the California

State Library Foundation for acquiring this

small part of maritime history related to

our founder Adolph Sutro.

Photograph of submariner, YNSN Scotty H.’s official shellback card from 2018.

Crossing the Line Ceremonies Today Today’s U.S. Navy military men and women

crossing the equator still become Sons or

Daughters of Neptune by showing their

loyalty and worthiness to King Neptune

in Crossing of the Line ceremonies. Over

the years, there have been slight modifica-

tions to the frivolities in order to keep up

with modern sensibilities, but the initiation

remains an important naval tradition.

A pollywog sailor fighting during the First

Gulf War in the early 1990s, remembered

his line crossing initiation like this:

The event was not mandatory but every-

one on the ship—be they Army, Marine,

or Navy—was welcome to participate. It

was about a 10-hour experience and all

Today’s U.S. Navy military men and women crossing the equator still

become Sons or Daughters of Neptune by showing their loyalty and

worthiness to King Neptune in Crossing of the Line ceremonies.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 1 9

ENDNOTES

If you are interested in viewing the SS Adolph Sutro Crossing of the Line certificate, please send an email to [email protected] and request call number MISC000346. Please allow 2-3 busi-ness days to process your request.

1 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emer-gency_Shipbuilding_Program.

2 “WWII: Battle of the Atlantic: Liberty Ships,” National Museum of the United States Navy, Accessed. 08 Oct 2019.

3 http://www.usmm.org/libertyships.html.

4 https://www.maritime.dot.gov/content/emergency-shipbuilding-program.

5 https://calisphere.org/item/ark:/13030/kt7x0nd5z0/

6 The Navy Department Library (NDL) has a large collection of cruise books. https://www.history.navy.mil/research/library/bibliographies/cruise-books.html

7 https://www.history.navy.mil › Cruise-books ›ncb-cruisebooks › 63rd NCB page 112.

8 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Liberty_ships_(A%E2%80%93F).

9 https://www.usni.org/magazines/naval-history-magazine/2014/december/nep-tunes-band-brothers. Thomas Wilden-berg, “Neptune’s Band of Brothers,” in Naval History Magazine, volume 28, Number 6, December 2014.

10 Ibid.

11 Ibid.

12 https://www.navy.mil/submit/display.asp?story_id=75241.

13 ht tps ://www.gao.gov/assets/680/ 675370.pdf page 15.

14 ht tps ://www.veteransunited.com/network/the-navys-line-crossing-cere-monyrevealed/ Pollywog or Shellback: The Navy’s Line Crossing Ceremony Revealed.

15 https://www.history.navy.mil/browse-bytopic/heritage/customs-and-tradi-tions0/unofficial-navy-certificates.html.

16 “Ceremonial Certificates: Proudly Serving the U.S Armed Forces Since 1953,” Tif-fany Publishing Co., Accessed 17 October 2019.

17 C. A. Taormina, personal communica-tion, October 3, 2019.

18 https://www.navy.mil/submit/display.asp?story_id=42026. “Crossing the Line” Ceremony Honors Heritage, Builds Camaraderie

19 Ibid.

20 Scotty H. is a friend of Carolina Basave’s older brother and his last name has been omitted for privacy reasons.

21 https://calisphere.org/item/ark:/13030/kt7x0nd5z0/

21 https://www.history.navy.mil/content/ history/nhhc/browse-by-topic/heritage/customs-and-traditions0/unofficial-navy-certificates/list-of-unofficial-us-navy-cer-tificates.html.


Tale of a CityCommunity Resistance to Redevelopment

in Sacramento’s JapantownBy Moriah Ulinskas

The Foundation is grateful to Kim Hayden, Archivist, Center for Sacramento History is making available the illustrations for this article.

Street scene of 413 L Street in Japan Town, north side of the street. 1930’s. Eugene Hepting Collection, courtesy Center for Sacramento History.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 2 1

rban renewal programs, bluntly

referred to as “slum clearance”

in their day, reshaped American

cities and formed new urban identities. In

California, the fight between redevelopment

agencies and minority communities still

resonates. While preservationists worked

to enact legislation addressing the threat to

historical structures and neighborhoods,1

what became of their inhabitants? This essay

sets out to revisit the history of California’s

earliest redevelopment project through the

perspective of the community that fought it.

California led the nation by becoming the

first state to pass its community redevelop-

ment act in 1945. In 1951, the state codified

the Community Redevelopment Law (CRL),

which became a part of the California Consti-

tution, granting local governments the abil-

ity to fund redevelopment projects by using

projected increases in property taxes. “Tax

Increment Financing” relieved taxpayers of

financial responsibility and eliminated most

public opposition to redevelopment projects.

In 1949, the City of Sacramento com-

missioned a survey of 244 blocks in the

downtown area, of which 65 were identified

as “blighted.” In December 1950, the city

established its first redevelopment agency,

and agency Director Joseph T. Bill proposed

an ordinance to establish 62 blocks in the

West End of Sacramento as “Redevelopment


Cartoon from the front page of The Sacramento Bee,

July 2, 1954.

Henry Taketa addresses city council in a public meeting, June 16, 1954, Sacramento Bee, Sacramento.

Area 1.” At the time, the West End of Sacra-

mento was home to a largely mixed minority

community. According to the project area

survey, the West End comprised of 21%

African Americans, 30% Asian Americans,

and 13% Latin Americans—demographics

which reflected a long history of segrega-

tionist practices. Since the 1920s, racial

housing covenants defined Sacramento

neighborhoods and were written by devel-

opers into contracts for new subdivisions,

prohibiting occupancy by “Negro, Japanese

or Chinese, or persons of African or Mon-

golian descent.”2 Ultimately, they restricted

non-whites to the West End and limited them

from owning or living in new subdivisions

that were being developed.

Sacramento’s Japantown, which dated

back to 1891, had just found its feet again

as a community after the forced relocation to

internment camps during World War II. In

1941, an estimated 7,000 Sacramento resi-

dents of Japanese descent had been forcibly

relocated, first to the Walerga Assembly Cen-

ter, then to remote camps, the last of which

did not close until 1946.3 Upon their return,

Sacramento’s Japanese Americans found

Moriah Ulinskas is an independent archivist

and PhD candidate in Public History at the

University of California, Santa Barbara. She

received one of the first Mead B. Kibbey Cali-

fornia State Library Foundation Fellowships.

This scholar is the former director of the Pres-

ervation Program at the Bay Area Video Co-

alition, has been a member of the Community

Archiving Workshop (CAW) since 2012, and

manages CAW’s IMLS funded “Training of

Trainers” project and NEH funded “Audiovi-

sual Collections Care in Tribal Archives” proj-

ect. Moriah has worked as a consultant for the

Smithsonian Institution, SFMOMA, San

Francisco Arts Commission, and is the man-

ager of the Diversity & Inclusion Fellowship

Program for the Association of Moving Im-

age Archivists. She has published articles in

KULA: Knowledge Creation, Dissemination,

and Preservation Studies and Places Journal.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 2 3

stated to the City Council, “The agency

should fully apprise the people of the city

of Sacramento of the need for their coop-

eration and to urge them to accept as their

good neighbors those who may be required

to relocate from the project area.”10 However,

an article in The Sacramento Bee reported,

“The agency could not guarantee minor-

ity groups would not be subjected to some

pressure and prejudices if they attempted to

move into certain residential areas.”11 Dis-

located residents faced an uncertain future

as their community faced demolition and

other neighborhoods showed no intention

of welcoming them in.

In a public editorial in The Sacramento Bee

on June 21, 1954, Henry Taketa explained,

“We are not adverse to the principles of rede-

velopment and would support wholeheartedly

a program which is equitable and just, by

which every person in the city would be a

beneficiary and none would be penalized.”

He continued, “We sincerely feel it is reason-

able and just for us to ask that appropriate

safeguards be made by the Sacramento Rede-

velopment Agency to protect the economy

and livelihood of those who may be dislocated

or required to relocate or even give up their

business interests.”12 Taketa’s pleas fell on

deaf ears, though, and the city offered no

provisions or support for homeowners and

business owners alike.

On June 29, 1954, the City Council called

a second public meeting and residents of

Japantown showed up in droves. Mamoru

Excerpt from The People of Sacramento plan for 1960 Through Redevelopment. A report prepared by Richard Neutra for the Sacramento City Council. 1950.

their businesses lost to foreclosure and their

homes occupied by other migrant minor-

ity groups, specifically African Americans,

Mexican Americans, and Filipinos. Since

they could not move elsewhere, returning

internees crowded their way back into the

West End. Families doubled and tripled up

into single family homes, slowly initiating

the process of rebuilding. As these residents

resettled, Sacramento city officials set their

sights on a project to connect the Capitol

Building to the riverfront, and Japantown

stood squarely in their way.4

When the Sacramento Redevelopment

Agency announced its plans in 1951, many

residents of Japantown—which was, in its

entirety, located in Redevelopment Area 1—

felt unfairly targeted. Anti-Japanese senti-

ment following World War II still prevailed,

and the Japanese American community had

little political power or public support in Sac-

ramento. Property owners challenged the

Sacramento Redevelopment Agency, stat-

ing that officials provided no evidence for

their claim that there was blight in the area.

The Sacramento Bee’s publisher Valentine

McClatchy had been a vehement and well-

known anti-Japanese activist. McClatchy

utilized the paper as a mouthpiece for rede-

velopment and had no interest in humanizing

the community of Japantown.

“It was one of the worst slums in the coun-

try,” Sacramento’s chief land agent Jerome

Lipp went on record saying: “The filth was

something you can’t even conceive. . . . This

was a full-blown, three-dimensional, hor-

rible, filthy slum.”5 In a City Council hearing,

white realtor W. C. Wright—whose office

was located in the redevelopment area—

challenged that notion: “I don’t think the

Redevelopment law was meant for a city like

Sacramento. We don’t have slums here, there

are homes in that section, proposed for rede-

velopment, as nice as in any other part of

the city.”6 Debate over the “slum” designa-

tion went back and forth like this with the

redevelopment agency opinion broadcast

through the local paper, while opponents

to redevelopment struggled to be heard.

After two years of public debate, the Sacra-

mento Redevelopment Agency emerged with

a new plan comprised now of only fifteen

blocks,7 but still including all of Japantown.

The community responded immediately,

and the Japanese American Redevelopment

Study Association (JARSA) formed to do its

own redevelopment research and to legally

represent the community in negotiations.

The Nisei Veterans of Foreign Wars, rep-

resented by Japanese American soldiers

who had served while their families were

interned, joined in the fray. African Ameri-

can attorney Nathaniel Colley teamed up

with Japanese American lawyer Mamoru

Sakuma to represent West End residents.8

West End residents recognized the need

to make improvements in the area, but the

clearly biased manner in which redevelop-

ment was poised to play out in Sacramento

set off alarm bells. “We are aware that this

is a relatively new concept and is fraught

with many problems,” said local NAACP

representative Douglas Greer. “We do not

expect miracles but we go on record savor-

ing progress. We ask assurance that this

Council will take every step possible to make

sure that adequate housing and business

opportunity be made available to those who

must be relocated.”9

Non-white residents of the West End faced

the difficult task of trying to integrate them-

selves into all-white neighborhoods if they

were to try to remain in Sacramento and

implored the city for support. T. D. Itano


Sakuma explained to council members that

the Sacramento Redevelopment Agency had

made no effort to engage residents of the

project area. He also accused the agency of

having no clear plan, beyond demolition.

“The agency has been so evasive,” he said.

“We can’t put our finger on a thing. We are

not interested in what the agency might do,

can do or will possibly do. We want to know

what actually is proposed to be done.” Sakuma

went on to admonish the Sacramento Rede-

velopment Agency for turning down offers to

meet with JARSA for several years. “I believe

it is to the credit of the people of this area,”

finished Sakuma, “that they have, until now,

sat back with the sincere belief the agency

would get together with them and attempt to

work out the problems.”13 Opposition to the

project was framed publicly as detrimental

to progress with The Sacramento Bee print-

ing political propaganda against minority

opposition, going so far as to run front page

editorials and political cartoons clowning

those in opposition.

The final blow to Sacramento’s Japan-

town community came on July 1, 1954 when

San Francisco mega-developer Ben Swig

put forward a proposal to fund the develop-

ment of a pedestrian shopping mall across

much of the contested area. Swig and his

associates offered an investment of $10

million ($94.5 million in today’s dollars)

to erect a shopping center between 2nd

and 5th Streets, and L Street and Capitol

Avenue. Swig wowed city officials with a

promise of modern architecture and mov-

ing sidewalks. Picked up and promoted

by the Architectural Forum magazine,

Swig’s shopping mall proposal developed

an unstoppable momentum of its own.

A special meeting of the city council was

called on July 20, 1954, to decide on Swig’s

offer and the redevelopment agency’s plan.

T. D. Itano, secretary of JARSA, proposed

that “the agency set reasonable standards

for altering, improvement, reconstructing,

modernizing, and rehabilitating existing

structures and allow us an opportunity to try

to meet those standards and by this method

achieve the objective of redevelopment.”14

Representing the Sacramento chapter of the

JACL, Toko Fuji read a statement in opposi-

tion to the plan.15 “Japanese Americans, as

a particular minority group, are just barely

recovering from the tragedy of the recent

mass evacuation of World War II,” Fuji

stated: “We hope that safeguards will be

insured for every resident of Sacramento

regardless of his economic status and that

the City Council will defend the needs and

right of every person regardless of race or

color.” In a last-ditch effort, JARSA represen-

tatives proposed to retain a one block section

of the redevelopment area, where Japanese

American merchants could consolidate their

businesses. The Sacramento Redevelopment

Agency immediately shot down the idea,

arguing that it was an obstacle to large-scale

construction projects.

On July 22, 1954 Sacramento’s City Council

unanimously approved the agency’s plan for

Project 2-A. Councilman Leslie E. Wood, who

The front page of The Sacramento Bee. July 1, 1954.

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 2 5

1 The National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 was a direct response to “rampant federal development” established by archi-tectural historians and preservationists. This act created a federal policy for estab-lishing and protecting national landmarks, such as historic homes, neighborhoods, and other structures. However, to this day the majority of sites and structures iden-tified by the National Register of Historic Places are significant only to the nation’s European–American heritage.

2 Brooks, Charlotte. Alien Neighbors, Foreign

Friends: Asian Americans, Housing, and the

Transformation of Urban California. (Chi-cago: University of Chicago Press, 2009), 69.

3 Wildie, Kevin. Sacramento’s Historic

Japantown: Legacy of a Lost Neighbor-

hood. Charleston, SC: History Press,

2013.

4 “Study of West End Rebuilding Plan

Continues.” Sacramento Bee, November

29, 1951.

5 Wildie, Sacramento’s Historic Japan-

town. 137. Lipp went on to become SRA

director.

6 “Redeveloping Plan Hearing is Put

Over.” Sacramento Bee, June 16, 1954.

7 The newly proposed area boundaries

were between 4th and 7th Streets, and

K and P Streets.

8 “City Promises Fair Deal in Mall Proj-

ect.” Sacramento Bee, July 16, 1954

9 Meeting notes, Special Meeting Sacra-

mento City Council, June 15, 1954.

10 “Redeveloping Plan Hearing is Put

Over.” Sacramento Bee, June 16, 1954.

11 “West End Gains Reassurance on New

Locations.” Sacramento Bee, May 22,

1954.

12 “Letters from the People.” Sacramento

Bee, June 21, 1954.

13 “West End Group Accuses Redevelop-

ment Agency of Ignoring Residents of

District.” Sacramento Bee, June 30, 1954.

14 Meeting notes, Special Meeting Sacra-

mento City Council, July 20, 1954.

15 Sacramento City Council Minutes, Sup-

plemental Statements, June 15, 1964.

16 “Tentative West End Slum Plan is

Approved by City Council.” Sacramento

Bee, July 23, 1954.

17 Charles Hillinger, “Survivors of Intern-

ment Honor 11 for Whom War Was For-

ever,” Los Angeles Times, September 11,

1989.

18 Caesar, Clarence. Oral Interview of

Nathaniel Sextus Colley. Sacramento

Ethnic Communities Survey, Black

Oral Histories 1983/146, Center for

Sacramento History.

ENDNOTES

made the motion to adopt the plan, stated,

“We have answered to the best of our ability

all of the questions that can be answered at

this time. I believe our statement of policy

the other night went a long way toward assur-

ing the people of the west end they will be

treated fairly.”16 What became known as the

“Capitol Mall” project cleared the way for

bulldozers to enter the area. Demolition

of Japantown began in January 1957, and

by March 1961, all 310 parcels in the area

had been flattened. Many of Sacramento’s

Japantown residents relocated to Oak Cen-

ter, a neighborhood that would become a

redevelopment target area in 1973.

Sacramento’s Japantown is more than

a story of decline and destruction. It is a

testament to community organizing and

resistance, and the enduring legacy of

responsive political engagement by com-

munities of color during the postwar rush to

redevelopment. When the Japanese Ameri-

can Redevelopment Study Association in

Sacramento dissolved many of its former

members remained politically active despite

losing their fight against the Sacramento

Redevelopment Agency.

Sakuma Mamoru continued with his law

practice in Sacramento and was appointed

to the Superior Court of California in 1963.

He returned to his own private practice in

1985 and did not retire until 2005. Henry

Taketa also continued his own law practice

in Sacramento, was a leader in the JACL,

and continued to champion the history of

Sacramento’s Japanese American commu-

nity, including the dedication of a histori-

cal plaque at the Walerga Detention Facility

in 1987 and the identification and reburial

of eleven internees at Tule Lake in 1989.17

Nathaniel Colley went on to become one of

Sacramento’s most prominent civil rights

advocates. He served as chairman of the

legal committee of the NAACP. Colley was

one of the lawyers who successfully argued

in the California Supreme Court to reverse

Proposition 14, which had allowed property

owners the right to refuse to sell property

to anyone based on their race.18

Street scene along 4th and L Streets showing the Ginza Sukiyaki Restaurant on the left at 1326 4th Street. Frank Christy Collection, courtesy Center for Sacramento History.


Foundation NotesBy Gary F. Kurutz, Bulletin Editor

In the field of Western history one of the

most devoted groups is the Oregon-Cali-

fornia Trails Association (OCTA). As stated

on their website,* this nonprofit organization

“is the nation’s largest and most influential

organization dedicated to the preservation

and protection of overland emigrant trails

and the emigrant experience.” As their

website points out, “Beginning in 1812 over

500,000 emigrants traveled the trails to

reach a brighter future.” The California His-

tory Section has enjoyed a long partnership

with OCTA, and they have donated wagon-

loads of books to the Library documenting

the overland trails. Late this spring, OCTA

presented the California State Library with a

white ring binder titled Trail Turtles Archive:

The Mapping of the Southern Emigrant Trail

1993 – 2015. In particular, we are grateful

to OCTA member Don Buck of Sunnyvale

for sending this ring binder loaded with a

treasure-trove of information. Appropriately,

the archive is “Dedicated to Don Buck with-

out his guidance and encouragement the

trail project would not have come about.”

Before describing the contents of this

archive, it seemed best to explain their imag-

inative sobriquet: Trail Turtles. Their humor-

ous and memorable nickname reflects the

heroic effort of the “Trail Turtles mapping

committee” led by Rose Ann Tompkings and

Tracey DeVault in carefully and deliberately

researching the Southern Emigrant Trail

through primary sources like pioneer diaries

and letters, early guidebooks, government

reports, and published maps. Loaded with

this information for guidance, they then

The Trail Turtles Archive Added to the California State Library’s Oregon-California

Trails Association Collection

entered into Southwest desert country to

retrace the path of the emigrants to Cali-

fornia. As explained in the introduction to

the archive, “because we moved slowly along

the trail, the mapping committee members

began calling ourselves the Trail Turtles.”

How did this trail project come about?

Several members of OCTA led by Mr. Buck

grasped the need “to learn more about the

emigrant trails that passed through the

Southwest. While there is abundant knowl-

edge of the northern trails [California and

Oregon trails] relatively little has been pub-

lished about these various southern routes.”

As the archival guide further explained:

“The Southern Emigrant Trail is defined

as the portion of the wagon road opened in

1846 by Philip St. George Cooke, his military

men and the Mormon Battalion, which runs

from Santa Fe, New Mexico to Warner’s

Ranch in Southern California.” These trail

scholars also grasped the important fact

that this trail through the Southwest was

much more than an easy-to-follow road from

New Mexico to Southern California. This

dedication to accuracy led to rediscovering

and documenting shortcuts and alternative

paths like the Apache Pass Trail used by the

49ers and later emigrants. Chronologically

their research endeavors ended with trac-

ing the famous Butterfield Overland Mail

Route (1858–1861).

For twenty-three years OCTA members

formed teams and went out into the wil-

derness driving four-wheel-drive vehicles

loaded with maps, various kinds of equip-

ment, and food supplies and water. In effect,

they were “dry camping,” that is camping

outside the amenities provided by estab-

lished campgrounds like running water and

electricity. Spending a week or two at a time,

they recorded the actual dirt trails hiking

over and through rocks, streams, ditches,

and desert vegetation looking for any trace of

the pioneers in the way of metal wagon parts,

partial mule shoes, musket balls, cooking

utensils, graves, and rocks with rust. Con-

cerning rock rust, one of the Trail Turtles

wrote: “For those of you not familiar with

this most common trail artifact, when an

iron-tired wagon runs over a hard rock like

quartz, some of the iron is rubbed off on

the rock. Soon the iron rusts and becomes

a permanent part of the rock. There are

places where we have followed the trail for

several miles just by following rocks with

rust.” In regard to artifacts, the members

used their digital cameras to photograph

the objects, making note of where they were

found, and then carefully placing them back

on the trail. One of the more interesting

finds was a remnant of a coffee pot.

As documented by the contents of the ring

binder, the OCTA members who engaged

in this project were endowed with consid-

erable skills not only as historians but also

as students of cartographic technology. To

supplement pioneer accounts and antiquar-

ian maps from the 1840s and 1850s, the

Trail Turtles took advantage of modern

technology employing drones, aerial pho-

tographs, Goggle Earth satellite imagery,

and handheld GPS receivers along with

the latest topographical maps. Once they

B U L L E T I N 1 2 8 2 7

OCTA member Don Buck points out a trail artifact to Richard Greene on the Southern Emigrant Trail, New Mexico. Photograph by Charles Townley, © 2016.

mapped a section of the trail, they trans-

ferred the data to the modern maps. The

ring binder contains eleven detailed maps

showing the places and dates explored by

the Trail Turtles.

Reflecting our digital age, OCTA’s South-

ern Trails Chapter made the wise decision

to digitize the early maps, photographs and

reports in creating the Trail Turtles Archive.

These are preserved on six Digital Versatile

Discs (DVDs) and a Universal Serial BUS

(USB) flash drive placed in the ring binder.

In addition, this archive includes the text of

articles and talks created by members. This

OCTA gift comes with two foldout maps and

six smaller maps detailing the exact location

of the trails and the dates.

Most impressively, the archive contains

data on mapping techniques and technology,

high-resolution scans of historic maps, trip

reports, handouts for modern guided tours,

historic marker projects, a bibliography of

firsthand accounts, and text of articles pub-

lished in two OCTA-related periodicals, Des-

ert Tracks and News from the Plains. The Trail

Turtles Archive is a treasure-trove of data and

will give researchers a detailed look at one of

the major routes that connected California to

the eastern United States during the pioneer

era. Words cannot adequately express how a

simple white ring binder could house such a

gold mine of data. Kudos to the Trail Turtles

for sharing this precious archive!

* Please visit their website at https://octa-

trails.org.

EDITOR’S NOTE

Kurutz is the editor of the Bulletin, retired ex-

ecutive director of the California State Library

Foundation, and retired curator of special col-

lections for the California State Library.

One of the trail markers on the Southern Overland Route placed by OCTA.

https://octa-trails.org

https://octa-trails.org


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