The Browns of California

by Miriam Pawel

  It would be another decade before Jerry began to think of Williams as the place he wanted to live. In the 1990s, Jerry and Anne went up to the ranch every year or two to hike in the hills. Sometimes they stopped by to visit Janet Staple and her husband, Jack, the family historian. In his second term as Oakland mayor, Jerry brought his friend Phil Tagami to see the land. Jerry had begun to contact first cousins he had never known, Pat Schaad and her four half sisters, who had stayed in Colusa. Jerry and Tagami spent a day with the Staples, hearing stories about the Mountain House and family legends. Jerry hosted dinners for the cousins at Louis Cairo’s steakhouse in Williams. He visited the cemetery where the Schuckmans were buried, including his grandmother Ida. He met the ranchers who leased the Mountain House land to graze their cattle.

  Jerry began to regularly invoke the spirit of the Schuckman pioneers in his speeches. “I went up to my land,2 west of Williams, and I hiked on the very hilltops that my great-grandfather did just shortly after the Gold Rush,” he said the day after Proposition 30 passed in 2012. “And I like to reflect on how tough it was then, what they faced. What we have to do now, it’s really not as difficult. So we should be able to make California even better.”

  The second Mountain House, built by Frank Schuckman, had burned down long ago, but several barns were still standing. Tagami, the Oakland developer who had started out in construction, began to sketch out design concepts that might work with the rolling, oak-covered hills. He filled the first of what would be a dozen binders. At one point, after Jerry overheard a discussion in his gym locker room about a Buddhist monastery looking for land, the Mountain House was going to have its own temple. The land had a monastic quality that reminded Jerry of the seminary.

  Jerry did research. He went to Wyntoon to talk with the Hearsts about their isolated family compound in Northern California. William Hearst came to visit the Mountain House. Jerry collected early histories of Colusa, including one written by Will Green, August’s neighbor in 1860. Arrowheads and shards of pottery used to grind acorns sent Jerry in search of the Indian history of the land. He talked to geologists about the soil. He and Anne spent time with their nearest neighbors. He flew over the sparsely populated land and memorized the names of all the towns. “What the land was,3 what it is, what it could be”—that was his mantra.

  “It’s a hostile environment4 in many ways,” Jerry said. They were careful to keep their dog, Sutter, away from rattlesnakes. “It’s a hostile environment, and people come to terms with it.”

  That spirit of coming to terms with conditions, and the quiet isolation, reminded him of the seminary and silent retreats. Tagami built two small wooden cabins so Jerry and Anne could stay overnight, off the grid. The land had no water or power. A water witch found two bad wells, then eventually two good ones.

  The land led Jerry to the people. Beyond the cousins with whom he had become reacquainted in Colusa, Jerry became curious about his family’s more distant roots. He called his sister Kathleen. In 1996, Kathleen had embarked on what became a decades-long genealogical quest. She began in Ireland, finding marriage records for her great-great-grandparents Michael and Judith Brown. She traced their offspring through the Irish enclave of Framingham, Massachusetts, to San Francisco, visiting neighborhoods to recreate their lives. On her mother’s side, Kathleen found records back to the Gold Rush. She visited the shack in the mining town of Vallecito that had been Cuneo’s general store, with an 1866 inventory that included pickaxes, canned oysters, and French champagne. To understand the Schuckmans, Kathleen and her husband, Van, retraced August’s steps along the Oregon Trail, using his diary as a guide. They stood alongside the Platte River at Fort Laramie, arriving by chance on the same date August had been there, 159 years earlier. In the wind and heat, they stared at the names pioneers had carved into the rocks. “It was an eerie experience,” Kathleen wrote.

  “About a century and a half after all this, I received a 10 pm telephone call from brother Jerry,” Kathleen wrote in a scrapbook for the family. “He was meeting the next morning with Hannelore Kraft, the Minister-President of North Rhine–Westphalia, and he wanted me to send him all the information that I had collected over the last 2 decades by the next morning.”

  That didn’t happen. Instead, the call led the two couples to journey to Ireland and Germany in the summer of 2013. In Tipperary, they met third cousins and scrambled over the ruins of the stables where their great-great-grandfather had lived. In Germany, one of their guides was the retired executive who had entertained Kathleen when the teenager visited with her parents in 1963. In the tiny town of Wüsten, August Schuckman’s home, their trip was big news. Herta Schuckman arrived with an envelope of genealogical charts; she was the widow of the grandson of August’s youngest brother. Jerry sat in the pew of the church where August and Augusta were married in 1863.

  In Bremen, they found Udo Schuckman, the great-grandson of August’s older brother. A split in the family after World War II had left eleven-year-old Udo’s family impoverished when his half brother sold the family brick business. An employee found letters August had sent to his brother when he arrived in California. He sent them to Frank Schuckman, in the hope he might take pity on his relatives and send money. That was how August Schuckman’s diary came to California.

  “We are unbelievably fortunate that the letters of August were preserved for nearly 100 years by his German family and that a loyal and kind family employee took the time and effort to translate them and send them to California,” Kathleen wrote. “It is a remarkable family story that stirs the soul and the imagination and is a priceless gift for future generations of Schuckman descendants.”

  Jerry invited all the German relatives to Colusa. “Never mind that there is nothing there but some empty barns,” Kathleen wrote, “but hope springs eternal that in his spare time he will create a homestead for the family. It is a worthy goal.”

  It was more than a goal. One year later, Jerry organized the first Schuckman family reunion at the Mountain House. About thirty people camped out in tents. His sister Barbara rented an RV. A few others stayed in nearby hotels. They spread out a six-foot-long family tree and people filled in blanks. The Colusa cousins met some of their city relatives. The second year, the reunion was twice as large and more elaborate. Tagami built raised platforms for the tents. Distant relatives came from several states. From the encampments came the idea of building a home.

  At the end of the Williams rally the weekend before his final election, Jerry brought his siblings and their families out to the ranch. From a locker in the small wood cabin he extracted a bottle of bourbon and poured shots in plastic cups. Then they walked the land, debating the best place to build the third Mountain House. Right where the old one had been, they decided. Jerry and Anne found a local architect who designed a solar-powered, sustainable home that curved around the small knoll of oak trees.

  As he neared the end of his final term, and celebrated his eightieth birthday, Jerry was often asked about his next act. He again referred to the Roman general Cincinnatus, who had come out of retirement to save the empire. “Like Cincinnatus,5 after saving the Republic, he went back to the plow. That’s exactly where I plan to go.”

  He talked vaguely about a salon, perhaps a variation on the Oakland Table. The Mountain House might be a place to pursue his climate change crusade. His friends joked about Camp David West, a phrase Jerry himself had used. At the monthly lunches of the St. Ignatius Class of ’55, which Jerry often attended, his classmates found the fascination with Colusa a little baffling. Pete Roddy, Jerry’s first friend on Magellan Avenue, swore he would never go up to the rattlesnake-infested land.

  “People will come6 here,” Jerry said, unconcerned. “It has a certain historic presence. Enough happened here that has been told to enough people.” He envisioned one of the old barns as a place to display family artifacts, like the land patent signed by Abraham Lincoln. Little had survived from August’s wife, Augusta. Ida had kept her mother’s w
hite porcelain teapot, then passed it on to her only daughter, Connie. Connie guarded the teapot on a high shelf in a dark closet. It passed on to her daughter Karin, who would pass it on to her daughter.

  Jerry went to Easter sunrise service at a cross in the road that topped an intersection near the Mountain House. He and Anne attended Memorial Day services at the Williams cemetery, after visiting his grandmother’s grave. When first dog Sutter Brown died, he was buried on the ranch. The new first dog was named Colusa. Phil Tagami, whose sister ran an olive oil company, helped arrange the planting of 125 mature olive trees of three varieties, pendolino, frantoio, and leccino. The first Mountain House olive oil was bottled at the end of 2017, with a picture of August Schuckman on the label.

  In all his campaigns, Jerry never won the staunchly Republican county of Colusa. Williams had become more heavily Latino in recent years, drawing families that worked in the nearby fields. In 2014, Jerry carried Williams 142–105. In the Venado precinct, home to the Mountain House, Jerry lost, 23–21.

  In his office, he kept a cow skull on the table, dug up at the ranch. On the wall, the old wooden Rancho Venado sign that once graced the Mountain House gate hung above a panorama of the land when his grandmother was a child. Below it was a photo of August Schuckman feeding sheep. Visitors to the governor’s office sometimes found every surface covered with documents related to the Schuckmans. “It has a history.7 I’m putting it back together,” he said. “I think the history of this family might explain life to me in some important ways.”

  Each year, the governor spoke at induction ceremonies for the California Hall of Fame, an event hosted at the state museum. Each class spanned the range of professions and eras, an eclectic snapshot of those, like August Schuckman, who had been drawn to find their fortune in California. Many of the names were part of Jerry’s past: Pat Brown, Cesar Chavez, Joan Didion, Francis Ford Coppola, Gregory Bateson, Gary Snyder, Kevin Starr, Earl Warren.

  In his last few turns hosting the ceremony, Jerry reflected on his ancestors. “When we think Hall of Fame,8 we think innovation, but we think partly of our past, our tradition,” he said at the 2015 ceremony. “I was just musing, as I was listening, on my own forebears.” He talked about how much the Mountain House meant to him. “It is nice to walk in the very footprints of your grandmother, and your great-grandfather. It’s very meaningful to me.”

  Then, in classic Jerry Brown fashion, he pivoted to Robert Frost’s description of how he wrote a poem. Jerry had used a variation of the quote in his first campaign for president, four decades earlier. Its significance changed with the years. The search for wisdom through questions remained constant.

  “I am very inspired by something Robert Frost put in the introduction to his collected poems,” Jerry said. “He said a poem begins with a question, and then, like a piece of ice on a hot stove, rides on its own melting, and then ends in wisdom. Now, I don’t know if everyone feels they’re like a piece of ice on a hot stove. But I’ve always viewed my political career in those terms. And I just keep rolling across that stove. Luckily, it was a solid piece of ice, so it hasn’t completely melted.”

  Photographs

  August Schuckman at the Mountain House, the Colusa County ranch that the Prussian immigrant acquired in 1878. The land has been in the family ever since. COURTESY OF KARIN SURBER

  August Schuckman, third from left, outside the Mountain House inn and tavern, a popular stagecoach stop. His son Frank is at far left; his son Charles and his wife, Mary, and their daughter at right. COURTESY OF KARIN SURBER

  Ida Schuckman, August’s youngest child, was nineteen when she married Edmund Joseph Brown, a twenty-six-year-old native of San Francisco. COURTESY OF KARIN SURBER

  Ed Brown in 1902 behind the counter of his cigar store in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district. He ran a lucrative gambling operation in the back. COURTESY OF KARIN SURBER

  The Brown family: Ed and Ida with their three oldest children, Edmund, Connie, and Harold. COURTESY OF KARIN SURBER

  The Browns—Ed and Ida with Connie, Frank, Edmund, and Harold—in front of the Wawona Tunnel Tree, a giant sequoia in the Mariposa Grove in Yosemite National Park. The tree was part of an effort by the National Park Service to promote the park as automobiles became more common. Seven feet wide and nine feet high, the tunnel was a popular tourist attraction from 1881 until the tree was felled by heavy snow in 1969. COURTESY OF KARIN SURBER

  Pat Brown and his daughters Barbara, five, and Cynthia, three, were among the two hundred thousand people who walked across the Golden Gate Bridge on opening day, May 27, 1937. EDMUND G. BROWN PAPERS, BANC PIC 1968.011-PIC, COURTESY OF THE BANCROFT LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY

  Pat Brown took photographs with his family each time he ran for election. In 1943, as he launched his campaign for San Francisco district attorney, he and Bernice posed with Barbara, Cynthia, and Jerry, who was five years old. SAN FRANCISCO HISTORY CENTER, SAN FRANCISCO PUBLIC LIBRARY

  In August 1958, Jerry Brown (front row, fourth from left) took his vows after two years at the Jesuit seminary in Los Gatos. His college roommate and lifelong friend Frank Damrell (back row, fourth from right) also became a junior at the Sacred Heart Novitiate. CALIFORNIA JESUIT ARCHIVES

  Pat Brown gives his mother, Ida, a kiss as he declares victory on election night 1958, winning the governor’s race by more than a million votes. Bernice and their daughters Kathy and Cynthia look on. SAN FRANCISCO HISTORY CENTER, SAN FRANCISCO PUBLIC LIBRARY

  After winning the 1958 election, Pat and Bernice headed for vacation in Palm Springs. Pat, an avid reader, brought along the just-published Cold War political novel The Ugly American. While Pat’s golf game never seemed to improve, Bernice had perfected her form at a driving range so that she was proficient from the first time she set foot on a course. COURTESY OF THE BROWN FAMILY

  When he was sworn in as governor, Pat Brown introduced his family: Bernice; Jerry, who was allowed to leave the seminary to attend the ceremony; his mother, Ida; and daughters Barbara (behind Ida), Kathleen, and Cynthia. COURTESY OF THE OFFICE OF GOVERNOR EDMUND G. BROWN JR.

  Pat Brown had spent summers in Yosemite as a youth and loved to hike, swim, and camp in the High Sierra. As governor, he went on annual Fish and Game Department trips. In August 1959, he fished for golden trout on a pack trip that traveled to an area near Mt. Whitney. EDMUND G. BROWN PAPERS, BANC PIC 1968.011-PIC, CARTON 5, COURTESY OF THE BANCROFT LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY

  Six days before the 1960 election, presidential candidate John F. Kennedy was mobbed by supporters as he left a rally in downtown Los Angeles, accompanied by Pat Brown. The governor predicted the Democrat would carry California by a million votes; instead, Richard Nixon narrowly carried his home state. LOS ANGELES TIMES PHOTOGRAPHIC ARCHIVE, DEPARTMENT OF SPECIAL COLLECTIONS, CHARLES E. YOUNG RESEARCH LIBRARY, UCLA

  On August 18, 1962, President Kennedy joined Governor Brown for the groundbreaking ceremony at the site of what would be the San Luis Dam, a joint state-federal project that was key to the development of the State Water Project. JOHN F. KENNEDY PRESIDENTIAL LIBRARY

  Democrat Pat Brown treasured his friendship with Republican Earl Warren, in an era when personal relationships often trumped party loyalties. Once a year, Chief Justice Warren returned home for a weekend of hunting on a friend’s ranch, and Pat often joined the party. In 1962, the two friends showed off their catch. EDMUND G. BROWN PAPERS, BANC PIC 1968.011-PIC, CARTON 5, COURTESY OF THE BANCROFT LIBRARY, UC BERKELEY

  In his socks, student leader Mario Savio speaks from atop a police car surrounded by protesters on the Berkeley campus during the October 1, 1964, confrontation that led to the Free Speech Movement. Recent graduate Jack Weinberg, whose arrest for political advocacy on campus sparked the demonstration, spent thirty-two hours in the police car before he was released. FREE SPEECH MOVEMENT PHOTOGRAPHS, STEVEN MARCUS, BANC PIC 2000.002-NEG STRIP 6:7, COURTESY OF THE BANCROFT LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY
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br />   Bernice, Pat, and Kathleen Brown greet President Johnson on the Sacramento airport tarmac as he deplaned from Air Force One for a campaign stop in September 1964, weeks before he defeated Barry Goldwater in the general election. Johnson was the last Democratic presidential candidate to carry California for almost three decades. CENTER FOR SACRAMENTO HISTORY, SACRAMENTO BEE COLLECTION

  Pat Brown, at his desk in the Mansion, hands a key to his oldest granddaughter, Kathleen Kelly. COURTESY OF KATHLEEN KELLY

  Bernice Brown, initially reluctant, grew to embrace her role as First Lady and gradually took on more public appearances and speaking engagements. SAN FRANCISCO HISTORY CENTER, SAN FRANCISCO PUBLIC LIBRARY

  Ida Brown, a linchpin for the family, lived on her own into her nineties, enjoying nearby Golden Gate Park and the fog in San Francisco, a city she loved. COURTESY OF KARIN SURBER

  Ignoring advice that he should run for a lower office, Jerry Brown jumped into the 1974 gubernatorial race and defeated three veteran Democrats in the primary. On his final campaign swing, he spoke to supporters at the Burbank airport on the eve of the general election. LOS ANGELES TIMES PHOTOGRAPHIC ARCHIVE, DEPARTMENT OF SPECIAL COLLECTIONS, CHARLES E. YOUNG RESEARCH LIBRARY, UCLA