Chapter 6
Campaign Speechmaking

On Sunday morning church was packed, and folks were waiting for what was going to happen that afternoon.

A little after one o’clock, we all rode up to the front of Parrish Mine and Freight in the wagon. A few people were milling around already, and soon others began to arrive for the speech, which was scheduled for 1:30.

More people turned out than we had imagined possible! Not only were there dogs and horses and every woman for miles around and all their children, but a lot of men turned out too. Almeda was noticeably excited. By the time she was ready to stand up, the whole street was filled in front of the freight company office, all the way across to the stores on the other side, and stretching down the street almost to the Royce Miners’ Bank. There must have been four or five hundred people, maybe more! The one person I didn’t see was Franklin Royce, although I was certain he knew of the event.

At about twenty minutes before two, Pa jumped up on the platform and held up both of his hands. Gradually the crowd quieted down.

“I know it ain’t necessary for me to make introductions,” he said in a loud voice. “If any of you don’t know who this is standing here with me by now, then I don’t figure you got any business here anyway!”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

“But this being our first campaign, well I figured we ought to do things proper. So here I am making the speech to introduce our candidate who’s gonna speak to you all today. And that’s just about all I reckon I’m gonna say! So here she is, Miracle Springs’ next mayor, and a mighty fine-looking woman if I do say so myself, Mrs. Almeda Parrish Hollister!”

All the women clapped as loud as they could, and most of the men joined in. Pa gave Almeda his hand and helped her up the steps to the platform. Then he jumped down onto the ground. Almeda turned to face the crowd.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’ve all come here today,” she began. “As my husband said, campaigning for public office is not something we are experienced at, and to tell the truth, I’m more than a little nervous standing up here facing so many of you. I don’t really know what a political speech is suppose to be like, so I am simply going to tell you what I think of this town, why I love Miracle Springs, and why I want to be its new mayor.”

She paused, looked out over the faces, and took a deep breath before continuing. As she did, some of the people sat down on the ground.

“When I came here, as a few of you know who were here at the time, the town of Miracle Springs was a far different place. My late husband and I had just arrived from Boston, and I have to tell you, all of California seemed pretty wild and rambunctious to me—Miracle Springs included. There were more saloons than stores, more gold than bread, more mules than women, and it was every man for himself. They said California was a state back then in 1850, but it wasn’t like any state I’d ever seen!”

The listeners laughed and some joking comments could be heard from long-time residents who knew first-hand what she was talking about.

“That’s right, Mr. Jones,” Almeda called out with a smile. “I heard that. And you are absolutely correct—it was a fun place to be back then! But it was a hard life too, for those who didn’t make a strike. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but for myself, I will take the Miracle Springs of today to the Miracle Springs of 1850. Yes, times have changed—here as well as in the rest of the state—and throughout the country. It’s a new era. Our fellow Californian John Fremont is campaigning through this great land for the abolition of slavery. And we’ve all been hearing recently about some of this state’s leading men, like Leland Stanford and Mark Hopkins, who are earnestly pursuing the railroad linkage of east and west across this great country. California is becoming a state with a future.

“My point, ladies and gentlemen, is that as the country is changing and growing, we citizens of Miracle Springs must change and grow with it. Gold brought many of us here, and it first put California and Miracle Springs on the map, but gold will not insure our future. When the nuggets turn to dust, and when even the dust begins to dry up, gold will no longer sustain businesses. Gold will not feed hungry stomachs. Gold will not educate. Gold will not keep the bonds of friendship and love deep. Gold will not raise a church. Gold will not attract the kind of families a community needs to put down roots and sustain itself and grow strong that it might endure.

“You are all familiar with towns, once booming and alive with activity, which have now become silent and empty because the gold is gone. Ghost towns—dead today because they failed to look to the future, they failed to establish a community fabric where roots went down deeper than the gold they feverishly sought.”

Almeda stopped, thought for a moment or two, then took in a deep breath and started up again.

“Now, in a few weeks you men have to decide how to vote in Miracle Springs’ first election for mayor. And I suppose I’m telling you why I think you ought to vote for me—even though I’m a woman!”

A little laughter went around, but mostly some cheers and clapping could be heard from the women present.

“So I’m going to tell you why you should vote for me,” Almeda continued. “I love this town. After my first husband died, I was miserable for a time. I seriously considered returning to the east, but in the end decided to stay here. And I cannot say it was an easy time. Some of you men made it very difficult for a woman, alone as I was, to keep a business going.”

The smile she threw out as she said it showed that her words were meant in fun, not bitterness.

“Yet, on the other hand, most of you were good to me. You were considerate, you brought me your business. You treated me with courtesy and respect. And we managed to forge a pretty good partnership, you miners and Parrish Mine and Freight. This town became my home. And as the town grew, I loved it more and more. The church and school were built. A minister and schoolteacher joined our community—”

She smiled and pointed to where Rev. Rutledge and Miss Stansberry were seated together in the minister’s carriage.

“Families came in growing numbers. Wives joined the miners—some from as far away as Virginia!”

She turned and threw Katie a smile behind her where she stood with Uncle Nick.

“And now I feel it is time for me to give this community back a little of what I feel it has given to me. I love Miracle Springs, and with everything that is in my heart, I desire to see it grow into a community whose strength lies in its people, and in their bonds with one another. I love it too much to see it become a ghost town, abandoned because the gold is gone from its hills and streams. My friends, even if the gold were to disappear tomorrow, you and I are what make this community vital! And that is the future to which I want to dedicate myself, as your next mayor.

“Now . . . why do I think you men ought to vote for Almeda Hollister? The chief reason is this: a Hollister vote is a vote for the future of Miracle Springs. It is a vote for the whole fabric of this community, not just one aspect of it. Money and gold may make men rich. But when they are gone, money and gold also make ghost towns.

“I am committed to the whole of Miracle Springs’ future, not just its financial future.” She paused, thought for a moment, and when she spoke again her voice had grown softer and more serious.

“What I say next is not easy for me,” she went on. “But I suppose perhaps it is necessary in light of the purpose for which we are gathered. From the beginning, I have been instrumental in helping Miracle Springs become a real town, not just a gold camp. I helped organize the church and the school, and brought Reverend Rutledge and Miss Stansberry here. I truly believe I am qualified, both by experience and by commitment, to be your mayor. I suppose my greatest drawback as a candidate is that I am a woman, and that may be the reason many of you feel you should not vote for me. But on the other hand, perhaps that is the greatest asset I have to offer Miracle Springs, too. The fact that I am a woman makes me, I feel, sensitive to some of the deeper and longer-lasting interests of this community, important things that I fear a one-dimensional focus on gold and mining profits cannot adequately see.”

I don’t know whether she saw him at first, because she kept right on with the conclusion of her speech. But as I looked up I detected some movement at the back of the crowd, and then realized that a figure had emerged from somewhere near the bank and was now walking slowly forward.

“In closing then, my friends of Miracle Springs and surrounding communities,” Almeda was saying, “I simply want to ask for your votes on election day. In return, I pledge to you my commitment to do all that lies in my power to insure a happy and prosperous future for all of us. Thank you very much for your attention and support.”

She turned to step down off the platform, amid a lot of clapping—mostly from the women and children and our family, and a few enthusiastic men, like Pa and Uncle Nick and Rev. Rutledge. But suddenly the noise died down abruptly. Almeda turned around to see the cause, just as the crowd split down the middle to make way for Franklin Royce, who was striding purposefully toward the platform.