Restoring Irving Gill's "Williams House"

It was a brothel? How do you know?

My parents bought Hilltop House in 1982 to operate as a religious retreat facility. As we moved in, there were whispers in the community, "Did you realize...?" "Can you believe it...?"

The brothel history was one of California Hot Springs' greatest urban legends. Like all urban legends, it was difficult to separate fact from fiction. It seems rash to gossip about the family of the original owner -- J. Howard Williams. His son had become a state Senator representing the Porterville area and his daughter...? A madam?

The whispers continued.

An amazing thing happened sometime around the summer of 1984. A woman showed up at the door and reported that her father was in the car and really wanted to see the house. She had driven him from his nursing facility in Porterville and had hoped we would allow them in.

The man was the nephew of J. Howard Williams, the original owner, and had helped on the construction site in 1908-1910 as a 10+-year-old boy. He told us stories about the beams in the great room ceiling and the original doors, all of which we could verify (and deserve their own little discussions).

In passing, this man commented on the work of his cousin who operated Hilltop House as a house of ill repute in the 1920s.

He just sort of shook his head as if to add "all kinds of things have happened in this house."

Indeed

Is bigfoot's hope chest on the lost road just past the soft moss?

My husband and son claimed they found a large steel container on the lost road. Having already explored the lost road entirely by myself I was hesitant to believe the story, but with the mystery surrounding the road perhaps I should discount nothing.

My son Frederick guided me to the discovery last week saying, "It's just past the soft moss."  On five acre property with a seven-year-old there is so such thing as "just past." It turns out that the "soft moss" was nowhere near the "lost road" and not even on our property. However, it was the case that the "soft moss" was actually moss. Frederick explores it in the picture above.

Intriguing was the steel tank -- straight from Milbourne Australia. When I saw the name plate, I thought of my Australian Twitter friend Matt (@mudville100) who announced on New Year's Day that the bigfoot I saw evidence of here on the property would be marrying his koala.

That is when I was sure of the purpose of the steel bin.

I wish the new couple many years of happiness.

Here is close-up of the name plate on the bin. Anyone?

Bigfoot sightings

We watched a documentary on "Bigfoot." It was surprisingly compelling. Apparently, scientists have examined hair found at a sighting of "bigfoot" and found that it was from an unknown species, not far from human, not far from gorilla. In the 1800s, some folks captured an apparent "baby bigfoot" and snapped a few pictures before it escaped from a locked train car, surely helped out by momma bigfoot.

We were sitting around here in the Sequoia National Forest and I said, "With all of this supposed bigfoot evidence, where's the bigfoot evidence here in Sequoia?"

My mother interjected, "In my early 20s when I was working at the Park [Sequoia National Park], I saw a footprint in the snow. It was huge. I ran and got my brother and told a ranger. Uncle Fred blew it off as a prank but there was something about it..."

I showed her footprints in the documentary. "Yes, that's it! It looked like that!"

"You've got to be kidding."

Two days later I was getting something out of the freezer on our covered porch. Some snow had drifted to the porch floor and left a small snow cover. I glanced down and noticed a bare footprint in front of the freezer. My own prints obscured the origin of the strange print. It was ten degrees that morning and I do happen to know that no one around here would be walking outside barefoot.

It wasn't a big print, surely a teenage bigfoot at most. It also has an arch which probably places it in the humanoid category. A friend suggested it belonged to a visitor from "the lost road." 

The "scary lost road" was tongue-in-cheek, but shoot, maybe I need some surveillance equipment out there. 

***

Speaking of "scary" and bizarrely popular, check out twilight charms and twilight rings. You can root for the wolves as well while wearing a wolf ring, wolf charm, or wolf necklace.

Holiday visitors: Your required reading

Those of you escaping the insanity of the holidays and joining the absolute saneness of our household must complete some required reading before arriving. I also recommend shoes with tread that can handle some mud.

You must first read about our "lost road" discovery here. Notice the historic picture as well to give you an idea of the required hike (yes, there is that too). We had a Halloween with great anticipation and then a whole lot of fun. 

If the picture of the terrain scares you, remember that you need only keep up with me. I do not say that to trick you. I wish it were a trick and that you would show up here this holiday season to find me looking like a body builder. Such is not the case.

Your only excuse is knee problems.

A 1940s Wedgewood plus photo albums

We just hooked up a super, original condition 1945-8ish Wedgewood stove, complete with griddle. The fire power on the cook top is pretty impressive. The griddle could be hotter, but it works pretty well. We are still acclimating ourselves to the oven's personality, so I will reserve judgment there. 

Generally speaking, I'm pretty tickled with it. It helps that it is beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful, I have added some photo albums to the blog: house features, homesteading, Hilltop skies, and the forest around us. Take a look -- just click on the thumbnails at right.

"Lost Road" discovery and a new Hilltop House tradition

Perhaps it was too much Halloween excitement around here, but I ended up with an infected root canal the day after Halloween, severely hampering my ability to attend to the important matter of our Halloween journey on "The Lost Road." With friends for cover, we hit to road on Halloween and explored it in its entirety. We have many important details to report such as whether the local wildlife is carnivore or herbivore and what happened when we got dangerously close to the animal nest at the head of the road. 

The biggest discovery of the day, however, is that this little lost road is a whole lot of fun.

Inspired by the "scary movie" picture of Frederick posted in anticipation of Halloween, we have begun a new tradition: "scary lone hiker portraits." Yes, folks, right here at Hilltop House you can hike on a lost road and have your portrait taken at the same time for posterity.

On our last stop of the lost road tour, we slid down to the seasonal creek area. We removed debris from the creek in our minds and discussed the work behind getting the area usable. We need a few young guys with chain saws working a couple of days each and we will have our own little creek retreat. We discussed funding the work.

"What if we invite people up for "lone hiker portraits" and say that the price of the portrait is working for the day clearing the creek?" 

We laughed and pulled our tired bodies up the 60-degree slope.

"Entrance to the lost road" photo gallery

From Halloween and from our exploration a week later, we have eager hikers waiting at the entrance of "the lost road," a passage to a world with lions and witches perhaps as described by Tweeter Cody Edwards in my Halloween post.  

"Scary lone hiker" photo gallery

I display part of the new collection below. When are you coming, friends, for your portrait? Too scared? ;)

Elijah walks down the old road and hears an unfamiliar sound...

Jennifer was unaware of the predator watching her as she hiked:

Sander came under attack by a strange force in the forest (surely explaining the blurry photo):