A Day in Jamestown

My sisters and I had a lovely time in Jamestown today.
We had a special reason for going.
Our brother, John had a handgun, a Colt 45 and a special holster that meant a lot to him.
He purchased them in Hollywood in the early 1960s.
The holster was made especially for John.
He drove all the way to Hollywood to pick it up when it was finished;
my Dad and youngest sister went with him.
From that time on, this gun and holster was John's greatest treasure.
He took it with him to the mountains on vacation with his friends and just about everywhere else.
When John died last year, we weren't sure what to do with this special gun.
No one in the family was so fond of guns like he was.
My sister and brother-in-law had it appraised in Jamestown.
Found out the gun and holster together was worth $1,000.
So it was left there to sell on consignment.
It sold recently for $1,200. to someone from Ohio.
This person was in Jamestown to attend a "Western Shoot-Out."
After the show, this man went into the B-Bar-Y Traders store.
They have a wide assortment of guns, gun supplies and Old West clothing.
When he spotted John's special gun and holster, he had to have it.
So now John's gun is in Ohio and will be used in gun shows.
I think John would be pleased to know that his treasured gun is very special to the new owner.
We sisters had lunch in town and browsed the antique shops.
I found this silhouette at the "Time Travelers" antique store.
I always have an eye out for silhouettes, but really didn't expect to find any. Surprisingly, there were several to choose from.
I chose this one because it is so different from the others that I have.
It was a very enjoyable day.

A Poem

AUGUST EPISODE ~ by John B. Giesbrecht
Established in 1961, Prior to the trip to Kennedy Meadows

On a sunny summer day
‘Twas then we traveled away
Through Sonora vacationlands gate
Up to Tuolumne’s 108

On to the place that won’t bore us,
In Stanislaus National Forrest
With spirits higher’n elevation, we said:
Hell: This is Vacation!

We loaded our rear, then threw in gear
And roared off toward Destination
My bombs spitin Fire,
Bumps hit every tire,
But soon, over smooth roads we’ll go.

Six-gun by my side, enjoying the ride
And playing the radio
Got to catch Jim, He’s not far ahead
Can see by the turds along the roadbed.

We’ll stop in LaGrange to water our thurst,
For the next few miles it’s best I go first.
I’ll do as I please, Might go through Chinese
And wait by the road for Jim and his load.

Here’s the one-twenty, the stretch we can fly
Just watch for a Cop, to pass the time by.
Now on a down grade, something whizzed by-
A hot rod dare devil that’s dome on the fly.

From traffic behind, a bull dodged in line
He’s sneaking up fast,
and might slow the domes ass.

Sonora’s gone by, we start climbing high.
With rocks and pine trees, a fresh mountain breeze
A good place to be, among scenery.

With trees that demand speculation,
With rocks in every formation-
This is my idea of vacation.

And I don’t give a damn,
For people who’ll scram,
Uncared for conservation.

We’re on our way,
A thought for today,
Make the most of it, Man,
Have fun while you can
‘Cause after it’s over, and you’re coming home
You get a sad feeling, unless you’re like Dome.

We’ve passed the last town
And sun’s sinking low
But why should we care
‘Cause we’re on the Go!

When sundown is near, in my pack I’ll peer
And pull out a can of cool western BEER.

Turnout ahead- I’ll stop for a rest
Give things a check
Then on to Pinecrest.
Motor a fire- we’re off once again
With air getting cool and dusk setting in.

As sun is sinking toward the far west
I’m thinking of things I like the best.
Flying along, I’m singing a song
The radio’s quit- but who gives a shit!

Stars are out now, and moons on it’s rise
Ridges lay outlined, Against clear blue skies.
From over a meadow- across Pinetrees high
Swoops an owl, on his nightly fly.

Roads getting smaller, we’re almost there.
With moonlight through Pine trees.
Adventure in air.
The time has arrived, ahead lights tell me,
We’re here once again.

The Place? Kennedy!!!!

Johnny's Story

My sisters and I went through our brother, John's stuff today. We found this typed story that John sent in to Reader's Digest. It wasn't published, so here it is. I wanted to share his story with you.

Editor, Life In These United States

The following is my true story entry;

Taking time off my trucking job last August, I joined my old camping buddys for a reunion in remote Sierra Nevada country. Having a lifelong obsession for guns, I acquired an expensive outfit from the best silversmith and leathercraftsman in Hollywood, California.
An equally impressive Colt .45 is carried in this holster. Needless to say, I think of myself as a fourth generation "HICKOK" wearing this outfit.
We finally reached camp, tired and sore.
Two days later, our moods begin to change. We forgot some bait down at base camp, and fishing was lousy.
Our packer slipped on a log and disappeared - gun and all, under icewater. While my shivering friend practically stood over the fire, I cleaned his gun. We all had a few drinks and wondered what was next.
Someone suggested we film ourselves drawing against each other with empty guns. A movie camera was used, and things went fine until we shot ammo at a mountainside. With film rolling, the pressure was on to be fastest. However, lack of practice proved to be my undoing.
With gun leveled, and smoke around my leg, I felt a sting turn into a burning ache. Tearing the holster's opened end, the bullet grazed my leg, imbedding itself in the bottom of my foot.
Two men took the rough six hour ride out while I lay in camp, cursing my luck.
At dawn, the noise and wind bolted a jackass as the rescue 'copter settled on the meadow near camp. With the whole scene being filmed, as I was carried to the 'copter, an imbibing camerman slyly remarked: "Look at it this way, you're riding out of here in style, your vacation is extended and you've got an extra reason for your C.B. handle!"
My trucking handle hereafter will remain - "LEADFOOT".
John Giesbrecht - Winton, California
(An article of this accident was in The Modesto Bee August 7, 1980.)

My Brother, John

My brother, John B. Giesbrecht was born in 1943, the fourth child in the family and the first boy for my parents. My dad was thrilled to have a son at last and wanted to show his love by giving him all that he could. Money was not plentiful, but Johnny got pretty much what he wanted.

For some reason, Johnny had a serious stuttering problem, which started at an early age. This made school difficult for him. I learned later that the kids teased him, which didn't surprise me. His teacher and the school principal tried to help him and set up an appointment with a hypnotist to come to the school. A note was sent home informing my parents of the appointment. My dad did not trust this method of treatment, so he kept Johnny home from school that day. So, life was not easy for Johnny. He graduated from the 8th grade at Winton Grammar School and that was the end of his formal education.

The neighbor boys were his close friends and he had a close relationship with them all his life. They liked to go camping in the mountains, in the higher elevations where they had to pack in by mule or on foot.

At the age of 18, Johnny's brother-in-law taught him how to drive truck. Johnny loved trucks and this would have been a wonderful career for him, but he became addicted to alcohol and gambling. Johnny never married. At times he verbalized his dissatisfaction with his life, but was not willing to give up the gambling or alcohol. He wanted to make a living by gambling and at times he did win big, but of course lost more than he won over time.
On December 23, 2006, Johnny fell (he had been drinking) and broke his neck. This fall caused him to be paralyzed from the neck down. He was able to gain some movement, but not enough to be able to summon help from the nurses if he needed it. Johnny could not breathe on his own and had a Trac and a ventilator, which he depended on continually. Johnny was transferred to Los Angeles County because the hospital in Fresno could not find a bed for him in a Sub-Acute facility closer to home. His big desire was to be moved back to Winton and be closer to family and friends.

Johnny died on February 1, 2008, exactly one year from the date he went to LA county.

Click here to see more pictures of Johnny.