Blount's Bluff: A Family's Farm Empire In The American West As Told By Its Founder's Son.

Sunday morning, Ella Marie and I were lazing around, playing with the grand babies when Isaac came running into the room, "Poppa, turn on the radio!" We listened in horror as we were told of a Japanese sneak attack on Hawaii, that our Navy Base there, Pearl Harbor, was destroyed, our ships sunk and the Army Air Corps Base, Hickam Field, burned and destroyed. I held my grand babies, praying that they would not be involved, yet knowing their Daddy would be. As the day passed, we learned more, the Philippines and Guam had fallen, our Navy was in ruins and the Army was fleeing for its life. Isaac stepped out on the porch and blew the fire horn, calling all the hands to assemble. I related to them all that we knew and told them to go home and pray for all our people in peril. I knew there would be more and enough. It did!

The very next week, there were soldiers at our gate, demanding entrance. They were there to arrest Danny Ito and his Family. No amount of arguing would dissuade them; they had orders that all Japanese people were to be imprisoned. It seemed that the Adjutant General of the California National Guard was one of the hate mongers and he was friends with President Roosevelt.

He was using his position to get his revenge upon those folk who had been loyal citizens of our country.

Isabel LeGrande went with her family, even though she was not Japanese. They were sent to a terrible place in the extreme north of California, dry volcanic plains, Madeline Plains on the map. A more desolate, inhospitable place cannot he imagined, the wind and dust blows continuously, not even trees or bushes grow there.

Isabel did not survive her imprisonment in that awful place.

Danny Ito would return to us after the war, broken in spirit and body, it would be the strength of his wife, Yoshi, that would bring Danny and their sons, Carl and Albert back to us.

To my horror, Isaac gathered thirty of the younger hands and went over to Camp Beale to volunteer, they were assigned to the Army Air Corps and Isaac became a pilot.

I gathered Roberta in my arms as she cried. We sat glued to the radio each evening, hoping for mention of the Third Air Wing, The Flaming Farmers they called themselves.

Isaac graduated flight school as a First Lieutenant and they were shipped out almost immediately.

We received a few letters from him, telling of places we had to look up on a map to find. In January of 1943 we received a letter that sent chills down my spine and Ella Marie to her bed in tears.

I sat in my chair, staring at that letter and tears running down my face. John came in and sat beside me. He didn't say anything and we just sat there together as I recovered.

Someone, I suspect Josiah, circulated word among the hands and they all came to pay their respects.

My poor Ella Marie was in near hysterics and Roberta was little better. The boys were just old enough to understand that their Poppa had been hurt.

Roberta was the strongest of all of us and she held us together all through our ordeal.

Two weeks later, we received a telephone call, Roberta was working the telephone switchboard while Elizabeth was to lunch and we heard her scream. Isaac was on the telephone, he told us he and eight of his bomber crew were coming home for thirty day recuperation leave. The rest would be released from the hospital in a few days and would join us.

I was so excited, I ran out and blew the Fire Horn and shouted the happy news to all the hands. Cook began planning meals for HIS BOYS and Ella Marie was at his side!

It was a huge crowd that waited at Blount's Landing, The William Blount had been dispatched to San Francisco to pick up Captain Isaac Blount and crew. We had decorated the packet in red streamers and the boat came around the bend with its whistle screaming.

Isaac and some of his crew were still on crutches, but we would have gladly carried them to the house! Most of his crew were also our hands, but there were some strangers among them, we made them as welcome as was Isaac!

A little over a week later, the packet was again dispatched to San Francisco to retrieve the remainder of Isaac's Crew.

It was a sad day for us when their leave was up and they had to return to their duties. It was almost a moment of despair as we waved the William Blount off from the landing and it took our boys away from us once more.

We dreaded the mailman each time he brought our mail. Little was said on the news broadcasts, but we did get several letters from Australia and New Caledonia.

We slipped into summer of 1943, almost unnoticed, the year's crops had been good and despite wartime price controls, our profits allowed us to continue our support of Marysville Hospital and Blount Elementary School.

We were short-handed and all the hands were showing the strain. We were running cattle at the old Sterns Ranch, Joel had passed and we closed up the house.

Gustav had been promoted to Livestock Manager, his Poppa was very proud of him. He had a crew of thirty hands running the dairies and feeder animals, plus fifteen cowboys working nearly 200 beef cattle. That overloaded the range a bit, but the government was crying for beef to feed the troops.

Ella Marie and I shared our letter with Roberta and also with Isaac's sister, Maria. I then posted it on the front porch for all the hands to read.

Fuel was exceedingly hard to obtain, we had just barely enough to complete the harvest.

Heinz is nearly at his wit's end trying to keep the machinery running, were it not for his skills, it is likely we could not have completed the harvest.

We sent 180 steers to slaughter, along with all the feeder beeves and swine.

We continue to get an occasional hate letter in the mail and I have been turning them over to an agent from the Secret Service. He says they constitute sabotage and is a federal crime. I don't care; I just want us and our hands to be left alone.

Some of the hands have come back to us, terribly wounded. Tony Miles feared that we would not allow him to work for us anymore; he had lost his left hand and was very despondent. Josiah took him under his wing and showed him how to be an inventory clerk. I don't know who I was more proud of, Josiah or Tony!

John Fiest is not doing well; he is coughing a lot and has to sit down to catch his breath. Both Josiah and his brother, Toby, are very worried about him.

1943 ended well for us, the yields were good and we got good prices for the beef cattle and feeder animals. We have been asked to consider reopening the Redding Store, I personally am against it, but we agreed to consider it.

A Major Bergmans from the Oakland Army Hospital stopped by to ask if we could house some wounded sailors and soldiers. There was no question, I told him we would do whatever we could.

A week later, the William Blount arrived with an old Army Sergeant and 20 walking wounded soldiers and sailors. Sergeant Billings saluted me and said, "Colonel Blount, Sir, may I put these men at ease, SIR?"

I told him to please put the men at ease and that they should sit up here on the porch while we arrange sleeping quarters for them.

I told him privately, not to call me Colonel as that was a long time ago.

He smiled and said, "Colonel, Sir, I served with you in France, you were my Colonel then and you still are now, SIR!"

I did not remember him, but he surely did me!

We opened up Blount House and it was not long before more wounded were sent to us, we ended up with a varying population of about 50 young men.

It was hard to stay away from them, they were so hurt, so damaged, both inside and out. Ella Marie and I would sit on the porch in the evening and we could hear them crying and whimpering.

Others would join us in comforting those young men, so like our own young men still away at war. There would be many of those young men who would remain with us for the remainder of their lives, working and living at Blount Farm.

It was from that group that our daughter, Isaac's twin sister, Maria, found her husband.

Jonathon Andrew Perry.

He was from Oklahoma originally, but had grown up in Texas. His Daddy was a ranch hand on a cattle ranch near Fort Worth, Texas. His mother had died when he was born and his Daddy raised him. He was a Sergeant in the Army Air Corps and he would be mustered out because of his wounds.

He was a pleasant, soft spoken young man and a delight to be around. All he really wanted to do was to be back on a horse and be a cowboy again.

Maria drew him out and he began thinking about bigger things, like being a foreman or a cattle boss.

He was still on crutches when he came by my office, "Colonel, Sir, eeer ahh uhm do you have some time sir?"

I smiled at him; Ella Marie had already warned me. I told him to sit down and he said, "Sir, ahh, IWOULDLIKETOMARRYYOURDAUGHTERMARIASIR!"

I hugged him and replied, "Son, you got it bad, don't you?"

He looked at me and said, "Yessir, I guess I do!"

I told him that it was up to Maria to say yes or no and he yelled, "YIPPEE, she already did say yes!"

He ran as fast as any man, despite his two crutches, into the Parlor, where Maria and her mother were eavesdropping. I guess we were going to start planning for another wedding!

I posted this latest letter on the porch, the hands must have known it had come in the mail, they were all standing there eager to read it.

We decided to reopen the Redding Store, but I warned the City Council that the first sign of trouble, we would close it again and it would be permanent. It was difficult to obtain stocks for the store and the shelves were pretty bare when we opened. The farmers at Shady Creek brought up a lot of fresh produce and we received an allotment of canned goods from the War Production Board.

We moved into harvest, Hienz was only able to repair one of the shucker-huskers, it was going to be a slow harvest.

We received an allotment of fuel; I hoped and prayed it would be enough.

Mother Nature must have blessed our efforts; she held back the rains so we could get all the crops in. We were drowning in grains, all the silos were filled and we begged space from the Co-op!

The railroad was running an extra freight, to get our grains to the mills.

By the time winter closed in on us, we had the winter wheat planted and the shop was frantically trying to restore the machinery to some part of working order. The tractors are in dire need of parts we do not have and the combines are running on patches and prayers alone.

Despite all that, we were looking forward to 1945; the news from the war fronts were looking like the end was near.

Blount House was still full of wounded warriors and we were determined to make this Christmas for them a Christmas they would long remember. The school children had been making gifts and cards for the wounded boys for weeks and Cook had squandered much of his precious supplies to make fruit cakes and cookies.

On Christmas Morning we all marched over to Blount House, laden with our treasures and goodies.

The boys looked at us, their mouths hanging open in surprise. Many of them sat on the floor and cried. One young soldier had lost his right-hand and arm and was having trouble eating; two young school boys sat beside him and fed him cookies and fruit cake.

Sergeant Billings looked on like an indulgent father, happy that his soldiers were being loved.

There were a lot of tears that afternoon, but they were happy tears. Those wounded soldiers knew, beyond doubt, they were loved.

That evening, we had a telephone call from Isaac, wishing us all Merry Christmas. He was calling from Midway Island.

I went to bed that night happy that we had gotten to speak to our son.

1945 began with terrible winter storms, parts of the valley flooded and many roads were impassable. The generator that we had been advised to install, kept the lights on, much of the area was in darkness.

I sat with Gustav and Josiah as we figured out what feeder animals to order and how much seed grain we were going to need.

It seemed like time was speeding by, suddenly it was April and we were looking at a record winter wheat crop.

I sat, staring at my son's latest letter, memories of my own war flooding my mind. I posted the letter, praying it would not be the last.

We lost John Fiest in June, Dr. Glock told me that he had been weakened by his old war wounds and his body just couldn't take any more.

Josiah and Toby were prostrated; John had gone to bed the night before and died in his sleep. I was determined he would be given a hero's funeral, I called over to Camp Beale and told them of John's passing and that he was a Medal of Honor holder. They promised to "do the job right".

When we were ready, the Army Band and a bugler arrived, along with an Honor Guard and a rifle squad. John Fiest was buried in the Blount Family Burial Plot to full Military Honors.

In August, we were in full harvest, nursing our stumbling harvest machinery as best we could. I had come back for a drink of water and a little shade, Maria came screaming out of the house, "POPPA, come quick, the radio!"

My daughter was dancing on her toes; we had already learned that Germany had surrendered a month earlier. We listened as a report of the dropping of a terrible bomb on Japan that had destroyed an entire city with just one bomb. An atomic bomb they were calling it. I suddenly remembered Isaac's cryptic remark in his letter about something "big" was going to happen.

Within a few days, a second bomb was dropped and the Japanese Government admitted defeat and surrendered.

There was dancing in the streets and Mothers praying their sons would come home to them, Ella Marie among them.

I saw Western Union boy arrive on his bicycle, a telegram in his clip. Fear ran through me and I began to tremble. I prayed God I was wrong. Ella Marie saw me and ran to me; all I could do was point at the telegram messenger.

Someone was screaming, I was astounded, it was ME screaming!

Josiah ran to the fire horn button and began blowing the horn continuously. As the hands began to arrive, thinking something terrible was happening, Josiah screamed, "IT'S OVER, THEY ARE COMING HOME!"

Men openly wept, realizing their sons were on their way home. I could not stop the tears from flooding my face, I looked at Ella Marie and she was weeping also.

Cook rushed back to his stoves and started putting together a celebration, he pulled out things he was saving and hauled in two freshly butchered feeder beeves. They were soon on the outdoor spits with boys turning the cranks.

The smell of fresh baked bread began to drift across the farm and young boys were driven up to the peach orchard to find ripe peaches for pies!

Someone brought out a record player and music floated over the courtyard. Some of the women went over to Blount House and brought the wounded soldiers and sailors over to join in the festivities.

Maria and her young beau, Jonathon, were dancing to the music, the way they were looking at each other; I prayed they were going to make it to the wedding ceremony FIRST!

By late afternoon, food began to appear on the tables, boys were bringing plates filled to overflowing to the wounded and then, rushing back for their own. Some of the younger children had never seen foods as were being dished up, they were war babies.

Cook had outdone himself and everyone ate until they groaned. Nobody wanted to get up the next day, but we had boats to decorate and get ready.

We hoped that Isaac's crew would come up to Blount Farm with us and continue the celebration.

We left at first light on the morning of the 27th, both packets headed downriver to San Pablo Bay and then in to Vallejo. We arrived right at noon, the packets were blowing their whistles and our folks were waving from the decks. There were streamers and cloth banners on both boats, we looked frantically for Isaac and, finally we spotted him with a gang of young men around him.

He brought thirty officers and men up to the packets, he looked at me in question and I rushed to him, dragging him on board the William Blount and waving at his fellows to come on aboard.

I asked him, "Is this all?"

He looked and said, "No, but I was afraid to ask them all."

I replied, "Go get them, they ALL must come!"

He ran over to another group and dragged them to the boats; we now had about a hundred airmen on the two packets. I stood up on the engine housing and announced, "It is about 4 hours to Blount Farm, is that OK with everyone?"

They all shouted that it was, so I told the captains to take us home!

It was a noisy, happy crowd that arrived at Blount's Landing, Cook had set out another feast and the smells of cooking meat drew those airmen like pointing hounds.

I was sure that some of them were even drooling!

It was near daylight before any of us saw our beds, the thrill of having our son and his friends home, unhurt and healthy was like a tonic. Fathers held their sons, fearing that if they let go, he would disappear.

Isaac danced with Roberta and his Mother, he swung his boys around in a twirl and he hugged me and looked straight into my eyes and told me that he loved me.

All was right again in my world.

The End