Undying Affection - The Love Story of J.D. & Emmaline Peters

Since the very first time visiting Stockton Rural Cemetery with my best friend (whom I also happen to be engaged to), I have always been enamored by the monument for Emmaline Peters. After Roland showed it to me the very first time, I have always felt a closeness and a connection to this plot, and I have always admired the detail and obvious thought put into erecting such an elaborate and beautiful monument.

Then came the curiosity. How did she die? Where did she die? And then even more so, how sad for the husband. The broken heart, the pain, the sorrow...and then, where was the husband buried? Since he wasn't buried within Emmaline's plot. So many questions and so very little answers.

Well, as most of us are, we get busy with life and even when we plan to look into something that interests us, sometimes we get caught up in the day to day stuff and forget. Well, it took revisiting one of my favorite cemeteries recently to resurrect that eagerness to tell Emmaline's story.

Emmaline Taylor was born on February 9, 1839, in New York. By the time the Gold Rush had began, her family had traveled up to California and started a hotel in Columbia, California.  It appears that her father may have passed away by the time we get to this particular part of the story, as by this time her mother, only referred to as Mrs. Taylor, was running the hotel with her two daughters, Emmaline and Zuba Taylor.

According to the History of San Joaquin County, authored by George Henry Tinkham, he allows Ernest J. Hopkins to tell his recollection of how J.D. Peters found his bride.  Enjoy!

“First of the teamsters’ tales is the story of how J.D. Peters won his bride. Be it remembered that the problem of getting a wife in those days was a costly one. It costs $2,000 for a man to leave his business, go east and return with the lady of his heart. One of the hotels in Columbia, a favorite hotel of the teamsters was kept by a Mrs. Taylor, a refined and charming woman, who had two pretty daughters, Emmaline and Zuba Taylor.  

One day in the ‘50s a new team drew up at the watering trough, and the young man who swung the blacksnake was merry and likeable. He had left his native Genoa and landed in America under a vow that he would never work for any man. He had struck a little gold and this team was his first step towards fortune. This young man, J.D. Peters, tied up and went inside for his meal. He was served by the charming Emmaline herself. Peters’ fate was sealed. But soon his eyes took on a weary look. He was a poor man, and this young lady had said, “I’ll never be a poor man’s bride.”

“Now the teamsters were a jolly lot, with more than usual brotherhood. They sized up the situation and laid their plans to help. Two fancy teams with bright steel trappings and gaudily painted wagons met one noon at the eating house, the drivers entered together to be greeted by Miss Emmaline. And one driver said to the other, ‘Who are you driving for now, Bill?’    ‘Oh, I’m driving for Peters.’    ‘Why, I’m driving for Peters, too,’ replied the other. ‘He’s a fine fellow to work for.’

Emmaline listened with interest. Every day after that new names were added to the army of men who were working for Peters. Then signs began to appear hung on the sides of wagons where all might read.  J.D.P., J.D. Peters,  J.D. Peters & Co. The legend grew and grew – a colossal joke spreading over the whole Stockton-Sonora district.

Wherever the young lady walked or rode on horseback she would come across that sign, J.D. Peters, or be greeted by pleasant-faced fellows who straightway praised their boss. ‘When I came to America, I swore I would never work for another man’, he told her at evening at they sat on the porch of the hostelry, ‘And I’m keeping my promise.’  What girl could resist?”

History proves that Emmaline could not for she and J.D. Peters were married at Columbia in 1858, and a jovial crowd of teamsters attended the wedding and made Rome howl far into the night. Later she learned the joke, but Peters was then making big money and she had no cause for complaint.

Mrs. Peters died in April, 1874, and to her memory her husband erected an ornamental markble block, surmounted by a life-sized figure, the features resembling the deceased. Imported from Italy it was of pure marble, personifying Hope, a work of art costing $1,000.”

After the marriage, the couple went on to have one daughter,  Mary Emma Peters who was born on March 27, 1864, but I have found no other records of any other children being born. Emmaline passed away on April 29, 1874, and this beautiful monument was erected in her honor, out of love and loss, and one that is said to resemble the likeness of Emmaline herself, is all that is left to remember Emmaline by.  I have searched and searched but have failed to come up with anything explaining Emmaline's death. Did she die from illness? Complications from childbirth? So many unanswered questions.

I did find that her husband, Joseph D. Peters, remarried to Anna Foreman and they are both buried at the Catholic Cemetery together just next door to Stockton Rural. Hopefully sometime in the future I will be able to add that to this blog. But until then, I hope you have enjoyed this short story raised from the depths of the forgotten archives, giving light to the love story of Joseph D. Peters and his beloved, Emmaline. ----

(Copyright 2019 - J'aime Rubio. All Rights Reserved. www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Photos copyright of J'aime Rubio. 

A Brutal Slaying Remembered

While strolling along the perimeter of Stockton Rural Cemetery, you might notice the elaborate crypts and monuments placed amidst the meager and modest graves. Like everyone rich or poor, famous or not, we all have a story to tell and we all deserve to be remembered. Some stories are more tragic and far more disturbing than others, but again, they didn't choose the way in which they passed no more than we will when our time comes. And just because a death is more shocking or uncomfortable to read or hear about than others, does not mean their story is any less important or shouldn't be shared for fear of upsetting someone's sensibilities.

In this case, we have the story of Geraldine Ortega who was born on August 25, 1946 in San Joaquin County. She was the daughter of Mr. & Mrs. Copeland, and she more than likely attended high school in Stockton. At the age of 20, Geraldine married a slightly older man named Daniel Ortega, Jr. on August 31, 1966.  Very shortly after exchanging their nuptials, Geraldine became pregnant with their second child, Teresa. The marriage would prove to be one filled with domestic violence and after 15 months, Geraldine fled from her husband to live with her grandmother, Elva Copeland at 1734 Rhode Island Avenue in Stockton, California.  She had only been living with her for about two weeks before the tragedy struck.

It seems Daniel was not about to let his family leave so easily. Geraldine had been receiving the worst threats from her estranged husband just one week before Halloween, but she had no idea how real the threat was. Just a week later, On November 1, Daniel showed up at Elva Copeland's house and started a physical assault on Geraldine. At some point her grandmother, Elva attempted to intercede to stop him, but that was when the brutal crime began.

During the struggle Daniel took a meat cleaver and physically attacked both Elva and Geraldine, fatally wounding both women. The details of the crime were too gruesome (and in bad taste) for me to describe, so I will just leave you with the fact that he butchered these poor ladies, all the while Geraldine's two infant daughters were in the home, possibly witnessing the act. After Daniel had committed the murders, he threw the murder weapons (meat cleaver and hunting knife) on the rooftop of a nearby building and many hours later, he eventually called the authorities the morning of November 2 and turned himself in.

"Dual Suspect Cries 'I Am Guilty!'

Daniel R. Ortega, 25, of Stockton, who was arraigned in Municipal Court yesterday for the murder of his wife and her grandmother, admitted the slayings during his court appearance. Ortega was booked at the county jail early Friday morning for the murder of Mrs. Geraldine Ortega, 21, and her grandmother, Mrs. Elva Copeland, 80, of 1734 Rhode Island Street in East Stockton.

The suspect reported the murders to Sheriff's deputies Thursday afternoon and subsequent investigation led to his arrest. Officers said the murders occurred several hours earlier. The two women had been hacked to death with a meat clever. Officers said the slaying apparently climaxed a domestic quarrel.

Ortega cried out in court yesterday, "I did it, I am guilty."  His arraignment was continued to Tuesday, November 7 at 2 p.m." -- Lodi News Sentinel  (November 4, 1967) ---

Such a sad and terrible end to two precious souls, who lost their lives far too soon and in such a horrific way.

Elva was laid to rest at Burwood Cemetery in Escalon, California, while Geraldine was buried at Stockton Rural Cemetery in Block 19. Her simple concrete marker lays neatly in a row with others who have passed before or after her, and just like them, she had her own unique story to tell.

I visited Geraldine today and took photos of her grave for her granddaughter, and she was kind enough to give me permission to share the photos and her story with all of you. Since Geraldine's story has been forgotten for so long, I felt the need to share it with you, so she will be forgotten no more.--

Thank you Heather Benfield for reaching out to me! May your grandmother and great-great grandmother rest in peace, always.

(Copyright 2018 - J'aime Rubio, All Rights Reserved)

The Murder of Judge Belt

Newsclipping of the time- Sac Daily Union, June 4, 1869

The Stockton Independent, dated June 4, 1869, relayed the story as follows:

“The Late Homicide In Stockton”

“Shortly after twelve o’clock yesterday, Judge George Belt, of Merced county, was shot and killed by William Dennis, of this city, on Center Street, in front of J.A. Jackson & Co.’s office. The tidings of the tragedy soon spread extensively throughout the city, and but a short time elapsed after the sad affair transpired before a large crowd had assembled at the scene of the homicide, every one manifesting eagerness to see the body and ascertain, if possible the cause of the shooting. Various rumors prevailed in regards to the matter, all showing that an old and bitter enmity had existed between the parties for years. As the case will undergo a rigid legal investigation, and not desiring in any manner whatever to bias public sentiment in regard to it, we refrain from giving any of the vague and unauthenticated rumors prevailing, but await the testimony of those cognizant of the facts in the matter.

Coroner Bond soon arrived at the scene and took charge of the remains of Judge Belt. The Coroner, in removing the hand of the deceased from his coat pocket, found firmly held in its grasp a loaded derringer pistol. On the body was a bowie-knife, apparently new, and a new scabbard (dagger). Dennis, it is stated, fired the fatal ball from a revolving pistol. The ball entered about two inches under the deceased’s left ear, severed the spinal column, ranged up-ward, and is supposed to have lodged in the brain. The remains were removed to the office of the Coroner, on Weber Avenue, and the following jury of inquest summoned and sworn: C.G. Hubner, E.R. Dagget, J.B. Sears, Patrick Tye, Benjamin Chadsey, and M. Stoll. After examining the body, further investigation was postponed until this morning at ten o’clock, when witnesses will be examined.

Deceased was an old pioneer. He was the first merchant that settled and established a store in Stockton, having arrived in 1848, and located his store on the corner of El Dorado and Levee Streets, there occupying two lots given to him by Captain Weber. Dennis has been a resident of this city for many years, and is an extensive property holder. Dennis was arrested by Chief of Police Fletcher, and placed in jail.”—-

The following news article gives a little bit more information about the incident, although it appears some of the statements contradict the first article:

“About twenty minutes past twelve o’clock this afternoon Stockton was the scene of one of the most horrible homicides (murders would perhaps be a better name) that ever occurred in any civilized community. At the time specified above, George Belt, an old, wellknown and highly respected citizen of Merced County, was shot dead by William Dennis, of this city, in front of the office of J.A. Jackson & Co., on Centery Street.

Without any warning, but in deliberate cold blood, the deceased was sent into the presence of his Maker. For a number of years—dating back at least as far as 1863—- the parties to this tragedy have been engaged in a legal feud involving the right of certain property. A bitter enmity had consequently sprung up between them, and for years no kind word, if any at all, had passed, and for the last three or four years we doubt if they had exchanged a word of any kind. Thus matters have stood.

Last evening, Judge Belt arrived in Stockton, for the purpose of attending to some business. Today, until the moment of his murder, he was about the streets attending to that business and conversing with friends, of whom he had many. About twenty minutes past twelve, he left the office of Jackson in company with that gentleman and McFarlane of Merced, and when just reaching the edge of the sidewalk, preparatory to crossing the street, Dennis approached him from behind, drew a revolver and deliberately shot him.

The unfortunate man did not know that the assassin was near him, and had no opportunity to defend himself. He fell immediately and expired without a struggle. The ball entered about an inch below the left ear, passed through the spinal column and come out on the other side. Dennis immediately gave himself up to the authorities and was taken to jail.”—- Sacramento Daily Union, June 5, 1869

So just who were Judge Belt and William Dennis? 

Hon. George Gordon Belt
Born: September 25, 1825
Died: June 3, 1869

Born in Beltsville, Maryland, George came to California with the Stevenson Regiment at Monterey, later arriving in Stockton around 1849, where he opened up a tent store. At just 24 years of age he was appointed as the first Alcalde (Chief Officer and Judge) of Stockton under the former rule of Mexico. He also was appointed as a licensed trader at the Merced Indian Reservation. He was the one who established the city government in Stockton in 1850. Later on, he was affiliated with the Mason Henry Gang.

William Dennis
Born: April 18, 1809
Died: January 22, 1874

Native of New Jersey, William Dennis was infamously known as the man who shot Judge George Belt and killed him in June of 1869. His infamy seemed to overshadow any sort of reputation he had in Stockton, prior to this incident. It was known that Dennis owned a lot of property within the city, but little else is mentioned. After Belt’s murder, Dennis was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment by Judge Cavis of the Fifth District Court.

In Conclusion

The strangest thing I found while researching this story was documentation that claimed Dennis was sentenced to prison for the murder, but died before his term was up. I didn’t think to question it at first, given the fact he did die in 1874; However, according to the Sacramento Daily Union dated November 27, 1869, Judge Crockett released Dennis on a $15,000 bail AFTER he had already been sentenced to 10 years by Judge Cavis.

So apparently, Dennis literally got away with murder. Did he have some friends in high places? It really makes you wonder. When he died in 1874, he was buried in Block 12 of Stockton Rural Cemetery, not too far from his victim, Hon. George Belt, who is buried in Block 11. Now these two enemies are stuck with each other, for eternity. Funny how that worked out, huh?

(Copyright 2018 -J'aime Rubio - www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Early History of Stockton's Cemeteries

(Copyright - J'aime Rubio)

Early History of Stockton’s Cemeteries

According to “The History of Stockton” by George Henry Tinkham, Captain Weber deeded the land for the cemetery to "rural associates" who then brought in plants and trees to make the cemetery more like a park. When Captain Weber was still alive, he was often seen there in the cemetery spending a lot of his time working on the grounds. In his older years, he was more reserved and spent a lot of time gardening and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the cemetery as well as other gardens.

“The Illustrated History of San Joaquin County” states the very first cemetery in Stockton was located on Channel Street near San Joaquin Street, and later a second one (Citizen’s Cemetery) was started near Weber and Union Streets. Apparently, there was no fence surrounding the grounds, so livestock would run rampant through the cemetery, as well as vandals defacing the monuments and stealing vases. Because of this, that cemetery was also closed.

When the rural cemetery was finally planned, a huge parcel northeast of town is what was chosen. That land belonged to E.M. Howison, Captain Weber’s former clerk. It was after the city appointed six trustees to plan a newer cemetery, that Weber and the trustees purchased the seventy-five acres from Howison together to establish the rural cemetery. Weber paid $1,000.00, while the trustees appropriated the remaining $1,700.00, making the total cost for the land, $2,700.00.

Mr. Lowe was the very first landscape gardener for the cemetery. The land was broken down into 1,500 lots, both large and small, along with roadways, plots and lots of trees and bushes. The cemetery was established in 1861, and remains one of the only privately owned cemeteries in California operating under the State Act of 1859.

(Copyright 2018 - J'aime Rubio, www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Honoring the Kennedy's

Brothers Glenn, Maurice and Roy Kennedy were born at the turn of the Century in Stockton, California, to parents Ernest Walter Kennedy and Avah May Jones Kennedy.  Growing up in Stockton during it’s infancy, and watching it sprout up into this huge city over the years must have made a huge impact on this family, because it was the history of Stockton and its early pioneers that led to them getting

involved in the Rural Cemetery.

Anyone who is truly knowledgeable about Stockton Rural’s history, will always mention the Kennedy’s at some point while speaking about the cemetery itself. The Kennedy’s were the life blood of the cemetery for decades upon decades. Had it not been for this passionate family of history lovers, much of what is preserved today regarding those buried within these gates would be forever lost.

Maurice Kennedy and his wife, Marietta, both worked at the cemetery together. Maurice was the cemetery’s superintendent and general manager, while Marietta worked as the secretary for over 20 years until her retirement. Glenn Kennedy, brother to Maurice, was the biggest history lover of them all, and he not only worked as secretary and treasurer to the cemetery for many years, but he devoted his life to researching the history of everyone buried within these hallowed grounds.

Glenn Kennedy spent years researching, compiling, writing and publishing small books dedicated to honoring the dead at Stockton Rural, by telling their stories in great detail. He would often donate his published works to the local elementary schools to encourage the children to learn more about Stockton history and those who made history in Stockton. His lifelong work is remembered with every story that has been resurrected from the past and put to paper by way of his hand.

According to all the records I could find, it does not appear that Glenn ever married, but instead was married to his work as a local historian. On November 30, 1994, at the age of 94 years, Glenn Kennedy passed away. His obituary found in the Stockton Record stated that at his request there was no funeral or memorial service. His accomplishments were not given a mention either. 

The fact that he requested there be no funeral or services for him shows he must have been a very humble person, and not one to toot his own horn. That is very telling on the part of his personality. Although he strove to bring back the stories of the forgotten ones at Stockton Rural, digging through archives, books and every record he could get his hands on to make sure none of these pioneers were forgotten, Glenn was uninterested at leaving his own personal legacy.   

No other person had such dedication to this cemetery, and I doubt there will ever be anyone with such devotion there again. Those who roam the winding paths of this property, taking photos, reading headstones and even researching the stories within, will never understand the depths of loyalty and love he shared for this place. Sadly, when Glenn passed away, his legacy was swept aside and nearly forgotten.

I have vowed that as long as I am researching the stories hidden here, and as long as I am walking these grounds, I won’t let Glenn Kennedy be forgotten. I will always keep Glenn Kennedy’s legacy alive by speaking about him and all the work he did here so that his lifelong passion and dedicated research will have not been in vain, because I feel that just like he wanted to make sure everyone was remembered here, now I want to do the same for him.  

To the original keeper of the forgotten ones, you will not be forgotten either.

  Rest in peace dear Glenn.



P.S. Thank you to Roland Boulware, a long time Stockton Rural Cemetery researcher who initially introduced me to both Glenn Kennedy's work as well as the cemetery itself. 

(Copyright 2018 - J'aime Rubio, www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Photos by: Roland Boulware.

The Two Graves of Henry Behnke

This mystery has been puzzling me for a while now and it was originally brought to my attention by my fiancé.  Mr. Henry Behnke, one of Stockton Rural Cemetery's eternal residents has not one, but two headstones and they are in separate areas of the cemetery, too!  

Henry Behnke was born on May 20, 1829 and died on March 2, 1862. One of his headstones states his name "Henry Behnke" (found in Block 26, lot 24) while the other just says, "H. Behnke" (found in Block 24) - but both share the exact date of birth and date of death. 

Although a few people have pondered the thought that perhaps there were a set of twins, both with the same date of birth and similar names starting with an "H," that maybe in some freakish accident both lost their lives on the same day.  Although I guess anything is possible, I would say that it is near to impossible and in this case highly unlikely.

You see, the only record I can find where he is mentioned, there is not other mention of another male "Behnke" with him.  According to  "An Illustrated History of San Joaquin County, California" Henry is mentioned very briefly in the biography of a man named John Corsten Grupe.   Grupe went on to marry Catherine Behnke, who I believe was Henry's sister, and this is how Henry's name was mentioned within the biography.

"In the spring of 1852, he (Grupe) went to San Francisco and took ship for New York, going by way of Panama; from New York he shipped at once to Germany and in the fall of the same year returned to New York. In the meantime he had sold his store in New York to his brother, and after stopping there a few days, started on a return trip to California. This time he came by way of Panama. 

In New York he met a number of persons who came to California with him. Among them was Catherine M. Behnke, who he afterward married. The others were Henry Behnke, Hattie and Rebecka Behrmann, Lena Meyer, John Kulmoe, John Wilkins and Henry Meyer, -- nine in all; of these, four only are living.  They crossed the Isthmus on a mule train, then took ship and came to San Francisco, and landed at Stockton on November 10, 1852.

On December 1, he was married to Catherine Behnke, and Henry Meyer was married to Rebecka Behrmann, both on the same day. " --

So we now know that Henry came to Stockton on November 10, 1852 and he died on March 2, 1862. After searching archived Census records I was able to determine that both Catherine and Henry came from Germany just like Mr. Grupe. According to the 1900 Census for the Douglas Township in San Joaquin County, Catherine Grupe was still living, but now a widow. She was living with two of her sons by that point. She was listed as being born in 1831, just four years younger than her older brother Henry, and that she was from Germany.

Unfortunately, this is where I have hit a dead end with learning more about Henry's life here in Stockton, and why on earth he has two headstones. I have found three other Henry Behnke's who lived in San Joaquin County, between the 1850's up to about 18 years ago. 
I can only assume that some of these "Henry's" are related to him somehow.

1) Henry August Behnke was born in 1854 and lived in Stockton in the 1890's because he is listed as a registered voter in the 1896 voting registry.  

2) Henry Behnke, born in 1850 and died 1928 (San Joaquin County)

Could one of the above listed men be his son? 

3) Henry John Behnke was born on February 8, 1918 and died in January of 2000, in Lodi (San Joaquin County). 

Could he be a grandson maybe? 

After searching the abstracts of the Stockton Daily Independent newspaper, dated March 3, 1862, I located Mr. Behnke's death notice. (They misspelled his name though).

"DIED- in this city, at the Avenue House, on Sunday morning the 2nd, Henry BENCKE, a native of Hanover, Germany, aged 32 years. His funeral will take place from the Avenue House at 1 o'clock this Monday afternoon."---

Answers to the rest of this mystery are still eluding me at the moment. 

I recently reached out to the Stockton Rural Cemetery office to see if they could shed some light on the mystery of the two headstones, one being found in Block 24 and the other in Block 26.  After speaking to Clara Navarro, who works in the cemetery office, she had no information to give me. The cemetery staff state that their archive records are in storage, so basically they were not willing to search through the records for this information.

As disappointed as I was to hear this, it does not deter me from my search for answers. I will keep searching to find out just who Henry Behnke was, and why he has two headstones, and I will not stop seeking these answers until they are available. 

I hope you will check back with me in the future as I plan to continue updating this particular blog post with more information as it becomes available.

(Copyright 2018- J'aime Rubio. -- www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Daisy Dryden's Deathly Visions

(Photo: J. Rubio) 

Tucked away in the middle of the historic Stockton Rural Cemetery in Stockton, California, you will find many locally historic graves and crypts. One that particularly stands out in the "unexplained" department is the final resting place of 10 year old Daisy Dryden and her siblings: brother "Allie" and sister "Nellie." Daisy’s story became famously known for her visions of heaven and the "other side", she claimed to have seen while on her death bed.

Daisy Dryden was born on September 9, 1854 in Marysville, California. She was the daughter of Reverend David Anderson and his wife. She was named Daisy, “because she was such a petite child, with such large, luminous brown eyes, that to us she seemed like the dawn of a beautiful spring morning, and so we gave her that name because it signified the opening of the eye of day.”  The two Dryden daughters, only two years apart, were very much loved by their mother. Though Daisy was mentioned as having brown eyes, Lulu’s eyes were a beautiful blue, and “these two darlings made sunshine whereyer they lived.”

Her mother recalled that Daisy wasn’t a perfect child, but who really is at that young of an age? “There were times when she was self-willed and even to stubbornness. Obedience was often a very bitter morsel. She had a quick temper. There would be a sudden flaming up of fire in those brown eyes, and angry words would follow. And then there would be just a sudden repentance.”

Although Daisy was a lot like most children, at times she was also not like most children. She was very in tune with other people’s feelings, what today we would call empathetic. She also had a very strong faith in God, and once when her mother was very ill, she saw her father crying and took it upon herself to go pray that God would make her better. She told her father that she had prayed and that God was going to heal her, and she miraculously recovered.

She was also not afraid of the dark, which was uncommon for young children, particularly girls. Lulu, her older sister was terrified of the dark and always asked Daisy to come everywhere with her when it was dark.  Daisy would speak as logically as an adult when she’d say, “There is nothing in the dark which is not there in the light.”

Daisy also loved the outdoors, nature and a beautiful view. “Once she said, ‘I should like to climb to the top of that high mountain, because, you say, there are no clouds there, and we might see the angels looking down on us.” – (this is when the family was living in Nevada City, California). “There was a beautiful garden in the front of the parsonage at Nevada City, in which she loved to walk and talk to the flowers.  She had at the time a little watering-pot. One day a lady was passing and said: “Daisy, what are you doing?” “Oh, giving the flowers a drink, and you ought to see them laugh,” she replied. She was very fond of pansies and daisies; pansies because she could see faces in them, and daisies because of her own name. She said one day, when we were in the garden, “Let us have daisies every place we go, if we can have nothing else.”

She was also a little girl with a very sensitive conscience, even praying for forgiveness to God and asking forgiveness of her mother one time for picking blue bells (flowers she was not supposed to pick) and leaving them under the rose bush. As her mother said, “this circumstance showed how tender was her conscience at the early age of five.”

In the summer of 1864, Daisy became ill with “bilious fever,” but it seemed she was going to recover. But her mother stated that by the afternoons Daisy would droop and complain of weariness. The doctor was called and he diagnosed her with Typhoid fever. She lay in bed for five weeks, struggling to break the fever that tormented her poor little body.  It seemed as though she had conquered the illness and even her doctor believed she was “out of the woods,” so-to-speak, and on the road to recovery. He even gave her a shiny new silver half-dollar saying “This is for the little girl who takes her medicine so well.”  But Daisy knew, for whatever reason, that she was not going to get better. Her mother spoke of happy plans of them moving back to Nevada City from San Jose, but Daisy would tell her, “Mamma, you will go to Nevada City, but I don’t think you will take me with you.”

To her family it appeared that Daisy was getting better week by week, but then one afternoon she lost all expression in her face, and stared into thin air. Her father asked her what she saw and she claimed she could see Jesus. That very night she fell ill once again, this time with enteritis, and thus started the four days of visions before her tragic death. According to her mother the first 24 hours were the worst, as Daisy could not eat, drink or take any sort of medicine. After that she claimed she felt no pain, but her mind was very astute. Her sister would sing to her from their school hymnal book, and she could recite poetry she had learned before. She also enjoyed having her parents read the Bible to her. This was around the time she started mentioning that her brother, “Allie” (Albion) would come visit her. Allie had died just seven months before, from scarlet fever. She claimed that he would come to her every day, especially those last three days of her life. Many times when her parents would ask her questions that she felt she could not answer to them herself, she would say, “Wait until Allie comes, and I will ask him.”  

As her mother put it, those three last days of Daisy’s life, she “dwelt in both worlds.” It appeared that from what Daisy was experiencing, she could see through the veil so-to-speak, and into the other realm that mortal eyes do not usually see. Daisy explained to her father, “There is no curtain; there is not even a line that separates this life from the other life.” And she stretched out her little hand from the bed and with a gesture said, “It is here and it is there, I know it is so, for I can see you all, and I see them there at the same time.” For the last few days Daisy had several visitors and with each visitor she claimed she could see to the other side and communicate with their dead loved ones. She also told her mother only “No one, unless they have dying eyes can see spirits.”

Daisy loved when her sister Lulu would sing to her, and she always enjoyed her singing this one particular song:

“Oh! Come, angel band,

Come, and around me stand.

Oh! Bear me away on your snowy wings

To my immortal home.” –

One time when Lulu finished singing it, Daisy stated, “Oh Lulu, is it not strange? We always thought the angels had wings! But it is a mistake; they don’t have any.” Lulu replied, “But they must have wings, how else do they fly down from heaven?” “Oh, but they don’t fly,” she answered, “they just come. When I think of Allie, he is here.”

When asked how she could communicate with the spirit realm without anyone hearing her speak or see her lips move, Daisy, in such a simple and childish reply said, “We just talk with our think,” meaning it was all through her mind. The day she died she asked her mother for a mirror to look at her face, staring at her reflection for several minutes. “This body of mine is about worn out. It is like that old dress of mamma’s hanging there in the closet. She doesn’t wear it anymore, and I won’t wear my body anymore…..you will lay my body in the grave because I will not need it again.”

Her mother opened the shutters to the window at Daisy’s request, so she could look outside at the world one last time. Her father carried her to the window and she bid goodbye to everything she saw.  “Goodbye, sky. Goodbye, trees. Goodbye, flowers. Goodbye, white rose. Goodbye, red rose. Good-bye, beautiful world….How I love it, but I do not wish to stay.”

At 8:30 pm, Daisy told her mother that her brother Allie had told her he would come for her at half past 11. She rested on her father’s chest and shoulder and waited. Lulu kissed Daisy goodnight and started up the stairs to go to bed. She could hear Daisy call out, “Good night and goodbye my sweet darling Lulu.”  By 11:30 pm, Daisy told her father that Allie was there to take her away. She lifted both arms up and reached in the air, saying “Come, Allie,” and took her last breath.

Daisy succumbed to her illness on October 8, 1864, and was laid to rest with her brother, “Allie” (David Albion) who died only 7 months earlier at the age of 6 from scarlet fever. Her other sister "Nellie" (Helen) preceded them in death and all three are buried together in the unendowed section, plot # 25.

Grave of Daisy, Nellie and Albion Dryden
Photo Credit: J.Rubio

Her mother published a book in later years telling about their experience in "Daisy Dryden, A Memoir", published by Boston Colonial Press in 1909.

To this day her story remains a mysterious one. Some people think she was only hallucinating due to her body and mind shutting down, while others adamantly believe she genuinely saw into the spirit realm.

For the record, there are no stories or reports of Daisy Dryden's spirit haunting the cemetery, nor has there ever been any reports of the cemetery itself being haunted. Believe it or not, this place is a tranquil place for those at rest, and in all the years I have visited, I have never had any sort of paranormal experience there. --

To read the Google eBook or Download it for FREE click here: https://books.google.com/books/about/Daisy_Dryden.html?id=TN0NAAAAYAAJ

To visit Daisy’s Find-a-grave memorial, click here: https://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=127400985

(Copyright, 2017-- J'aime Rubio. www.jaimerubiowriter.com) 

Photos: Copyright, J'aime Rubio, 2014

A Ghastly Murder Remembered - Part 2

In my last story, "A Ghastly Murder Remembered," I explained the murder of Mary Arrivey.  As far as the story goes, Gus Arrivey, crazed and in a drunken state,  murdered his mother in the most brutal way on December 4th, 1911. My last blog post went into the details of the murder as well as the background of both Mary and her son, Gus. This blog however, will be about Gus' mental state and the things he told the physicians who observed him after the murder, including newly found information in regards to his past mental state. His case was so odd that it made its way into the California State Journal of Medicine in 1912.

By his own admission, Gus told the physicians that at the age of  five he had been given his first taste of liquor, and had been fully drunk by the age of twelve. He claimed that his father died when he was just a child, and that he did not know much about his relatives. By September 30th, 1910, Gus was committed to Dr. Asa Clark's Sanitarium for his debauchery and "delirium tremens" attacks. He was released nearly six weeks later, on October 8th.

By the springtime, Gus was at it again with his drunken behavior and hallucinations. This time he was arrested for climbing to the top of a tree, claiming that he was rescuing his mother. He was arrested nearly eight times for drunkenness between the spring of 1911 and the date of the murder in December, 1911.

The night before he killed his mother, he claimed to have looked into a "doctor-book" for a sleeping remedy, to which his mother told him he should see a doctor for his insomnia. He alleges that he went to get medicine which was a mixture of choral and bromide, and he went to sleep. He claimed he woke up again at 4 p.m., saw that dinner was cold and that his mother had went to asleep, so he took another dose and went back to bed again. The events that occurred after these moments will remain the most gruesome, brutal and bizarre story I have ever investigated.

Inmate # 25446

What The Officer On The Scene Saw

According to the California State Journal of Medicine, it stated that the officer on the scene found a woman's body lying in a room of the house.

 "The body was covered up with rags, the woman's throat had been cut from ear to ear, her skull fractured and the abdomen opened, loops of intestines protruding from the wound."--

Gus was found about a block from the home, in the tules, knee high in water. He was carrying around a portrait of his mother, one of her shirts and her hat. He was barefoot and was not wearing a coat or hat, and had beaten a serpentine path in the overgrown grass, claiming that a group of black men were chasing him for killing his mother.

So What Was Gus' Side Of The Story?

The story that Gus gives the physicians is one that is not only bizarre, but perplexing. It is obvious this guy had some serious mental issues and the alcohol only exacerbated the situation. Still, the idea of this "space ship" and other odd things he states left me feeling very uneasy, mainly because he speaks of the events with such ease and no sense of emotion.

Here are some excerpts from the interview:

Q: What's the matter Arrivey, what  trouble have you been into?

Arrivey: "I haven't been into any."

Q: Where is your mother now?

Arrivey: "She is up in this business going around in the jail- in that new flying machine. She went up in the spirit."

Q: Where is her body?

Arrivey: "Her body lies over in the morgue, I guess."

Q: How did she get killed?

Arrivey: "I killed her. There was a gentleman, somekind of religious man. I think I met him on Sutter and Market Streets. I forget how long ago. He showed me how to talk a signed language- sort of whisper just by moving the lips. It took him no time to teach me that lingo. I talked through the ceiling a while ago. I talked to him at a distance when he directed me."

Q: To do what?

Arrivey: "Kill my mother. I don't exactly remember when- sometime late at night. He was in Mars when he told me."

Q: How did you kill your mother?

Arrivey: "First I think I took something on the table there,  and hit her on the head with it. I don't remember where I had been or when I came to the room where she was. I don't remember what I had been doing that day. I hit her over the head with the glass, and he (the aviator) directed me to split open the womb with a knife. He wanted me to kill the baby. I beat her on the head with a hatchet, and she screamed and hollered 'don't Gussie', and all that."


Gus goes into further detail that the man from the space ship kept telling him that his mother had a baby in there that he wanted to take out. The alleged "man from Mars" didn't want Mary's spirit to go out but the baby's spirit. Obviously, the woman was well past child bearing age, and there was no mention in any records I found of her having been pregnant. This was obviously another one of his delusions. What is so disturbing is how easily he speaks of basically gutting his mother like a fish, on the bed.  I felt sick to my stomach when he finally says that he took her to the porch and slit her throat, eventually admitting he almost cut her head off!  He then washed up and changed his clothes, barricaded the front door with a washstand, piled rags on top of his mother and moved furniture to surround her body and then he ran out the back door into the tules. He stayed there all night.

When interviewed he spoke of the evening outside as if he wasn't cold, although it was recorded to have been very cold that night before. It appeared as if the cold weather and rain did little to affect his mental state. In fact, he had no recollection of it, despite being barefoot and coatless.

He kept saying that a group of black men, and two "white fellows" were chasing him and that they were going to kill him for killing his mother. He also said he brought the matches from his home out to the tules so he could be burned alive as a sacrifice. When asked about the "sacrifice". Gus said,  "He (the man from Mars) claimed it was a kind of offering."

Gus stated that he and his mother got along fine, and never had any "words " although she didn't like it when he "went on a jag." When asked again why he killed her, later he claimed that he didn't know. His story continues to go back and forth, since later he states that he wanted to kill her, he knew what he was doing and he didn't "pay attention" because he didn't think he was committing a crime.

When asked if he knew what he did was wrong, Gus answered:

"Sure, I do, and I expect to be punished...

Q: What do you think they will do with you?

Arrivey: "Well, they will either give me life or death. I prefer death."

Q: You are ready to take your death sentence now?

Arrivey: I guess so. I don't like to stay in jail.

Soon after these questions he adds that after his mother's death and he was running around the field, he claimed that his mother was in the ship above him.

"She was in the machine. She was crying and talking and calling her husband down."-

As the doctors noted, during the entire interview, Gus showed no emotion and relayed the entire story as if he was telling it from another person's perspective. Over the course of a few days, the doctors watched him carefully and questioned him more. As time went on, his story changed a bit and he seemed to have forgotten a lot of things he had said previously. According to the doctors he was still speaking of the man from mars, and describing some more odd experiences.

"I saw something like a star in the heavens and as if there was a searchlight extending from Mars to the Earth- and I thought I saw a flying machine with a man in it, going up towards the star and coming down again. The only other person I remember seeing in the house besides my mother was a man of dark complexion, standing in the back room, but he didn't say anything. He was a middle-sized man, wore a chauffeur cap and leggings. I saw no moving pictures, animals or men of extraordinary size. After I had done this to my mother, I think I remember feeling numb and stupid-like. I had no fear at all."

He continues with his odd explanations of the men chasing him in the tules, as well as a morbid dream he had on the way to jail. Doctors claimed that by the 5th day of his incarceration he was actually acting somewhat normal and having no more hallucinations or speaking of oddities. By January 15th, 1911, the courts deemed him sane, (why I will never understand that), and he was sent to San Quentin for a life sentence. They did add that they knew he committed the murder in a "dream like state" caused by delirium tremens and that he could very well do this again, if given the chance, thus the reason he was given a life sentence.

With all the strange circumstances and the complete brutality of the crime, it is insane that the State of California released this man into society nine years after he butchered his own mother. I haven't been able to figure out what he did to violate the terms of his parole, however it is on record that he did return to San Quentin in 1927 and remained there for the duration of his life.

Conclusion

When I first posted the article about Mary Arrivey's death, I stated facts: her background, what happened, and where Gus ended up. I briefly touched on the actual details of the murder. After digging deeper and uncovering this heinous crime, I am left forever scarred at what I read. We sometimes come across articles in the newspapers, online or even segments we hear on the radio or television, speaking of gruesome murders, but in all the years I have researched and wrote about stories such as this, I have never come across one so disturbing.

My heart goes out to Mary Arrivey, and the pain and suffering she must have went through in her final moments. One can only hope she didn't suffer, although the evidence shows she did. I will never look at this case the same again. I wonder now if maybe the reason this story isn't as well known in Stockton as say the "Trunk Murder of 1906," maybe it was because of the sheer brutality of the case. Maybe it was forgotten for a reason...we can only wonder.

Copyright 2015- J'aime Rubio, originally published 3/21/2015)

All rights reserved. No part of this blog may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission by the author/publisher, J’aime Rubio. 

 Sources:

California Prison Records

California State Journal of Medicine, 1912