J. and J. Blair

From the Pacific Coast Commercial Record -- San Francisco -- May 20, 1889
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Placerville Enterprises -- And a short sketch of some of El Dorado County's most prominent citizens,

J. and J. Blair

The names of James and John Blair, who constitute the house of J. and J. Blair are as "familiar as household words" to the residents of Placerville and the neighboring district, throughout which they are universally respected. An edition devoted to the interests of Placerville and El Dorado County -- their history, advancement, and affairs in general -- would be wholly incomplete without due reference to the part taken by these gentlemen in their past development and present condition.

John and James Blair are of Scotch nativity, and were born in the "land o'cakes" in 1828 and 1830, respectively. The town of their birth was Paisley, where the celebrated shawls of that name were manufactured, and there, by following his trade as a weaver of these expensive garments, their father supported a family of wife and six children -- two girls and four boys.

(Picture of James Blair.)

The boys were not reared in the lap of luxury. They were taught to work, and those principles of industry and economy which have since stood them in such good stead were instilled into their youthful minds. The boys were bright, energetic and ambitious. The courage and determination characteristic of the sturdy Scotch stock were strong within them, and they were not of a caliber to remain quietly at home earning a bare living while fortunes were being made in the busy world around them. The United States offered superior opportunities for young men of ambition to rise in the world. John was the first to ruffle the serenity of the peaceful home life of the Blair family by starting out in the world to sue for fickle fortune's favors. He sailed to America, and proceeded at once to Indiana, where he soon obtained employment and started to learn the cooper's trade. With the same spirit of self reliance, James, two years later followed his brothers example, and in 1850, he, in company with Matthew, another of the four boys, likewise embarked for the new world. Their voyage, however, proved more eventful than that of their brother John. The ship in which they sailed was disabled in a hurricane off the west coast of Ireland, and for four weeks drifted helplessly on the ocean. They were then overhauled and towed back to Greenock. Starting once more, however, they reached their destination in safety, and James secured employment in a gas house in Ohio, only a short distance [from] where his brother John was employed across the state line, in Indiana. Here they lived economically until 1852. The fame of California had reached their ears, and their venturesome and ambitious natures rendered them highly susceptible to an attack of the California fever. They forwith (sic) decided to change their base of operations to the new El Dorado. They found, after comparing notes, that they did not possess sufficient funds to purchase a mule team, supplies and other incidentals necessary for crossing the plains; so rather than abandon the idea, it was decided that John should take the entire capital of both, purchase a half interest in an outfit with some other emigrants and proceed on the journey, leaving James behind to continue his work at the gas house.

Picture of John Blair

It was further agreed that whatever business John engaged in in California was to be in the name of J. and J. Blair, and that the profits and losses should be equally divided. The agreement has ever since been followed to the letter. James remained at this old job in Ohio for eighteen months. He had during that time received but one letter from his brother, by which he learned that John had arrived in California and had located himself in Placerville. In the meantime James had raised enough money out of his wages to make the trip himself., which he did via New Orleans and the Nicaragua route. Landing in California, he proceeded at once to El Dorado County. John was running a tavern known as Sportsman's Hall, twelve miles from Placerville and also trading with the imigrants.

Sportsman's Hall

The partnership business of J. and J. Blair then and there took more definite shape. The tavern business was continued, and during the Washoe excitement, the travel past their place was something enormous. Thousands of teams and persons daily stopped at their hotel, enroute from California to the Comstock mines in Nevada. Four stage lines stopped there and were fed and stalled every night at Blair's. In the meantime, having plenty of timber land, they entered into a partnership with a party who desired to start a saw mill. They acquired a large interest in the mill, and having all the necessary paraphernalia for running a saw mill, they continued it themselves. John attended to the milling business, while James continued for twenty one years to run the hotel. Shortly after opening the first mill, they started another near Placerville. The lumber was sold to the ranchers and farmers in exchange for grain, and the grain was supplied to the stage companies and teamsters traveling over the rod, They have at different times established a number of mills in El Dorado County, and working together and attending strictly to business they made money rapidly. In 1857 they started a lumber yard at Placerville, which place during that year was made the county seat. In 1876, the C.P. Railroad having been built, and other wagon roads having been opened up, the travel past Blair's hotel was very much reduced, and they withdrew from the business. James then took charge of the sawmills, and John looked after the lumber yard in Placerville. In 1876 James met with an accident, and he was obliged to give up the conduct of the mills. Six years ago (sic) , a partnership was formed by J. and J. Blair with Knight & Co. of Sacramento, dealers in hides, pelts, tallow, etc and this has grown to extensive proportions. It is the largest hide establishment on the coast.

This firm have (sic) stores and offices on Front Street, San Francisco, and on Front and L. Streets in Sacramento. During the past year, the business of Knight & Co. alone aggregate nearly half a million. In addition to the hide business, they conduct a heavily stocked lumber yard in Placerville, a planing mill, the largest in the county, a circular saw-mill, and own 2400 acres of fine timber land, 1200 of which are covered with sugar pine, 300 acres of pasture land in Sacramento County, all fenced and improved and devoted to wintering and raising feed for their stock; thirty five head of cattle used to haul timber to the mill, and from thence, in the form of lumber, to the yard; and all the necessary appliances for conducting a business of this magnitude. The lumber-yard is stocked with upwards of 500,000 feet of lumber of different varieties, all of which is the product of their own timber lands, and is cut at their own mill. Their planing-mill is fully equipped with all the machinery necessary for turning out all descriptions of building materials, while large quantities of fruit boxes are also manufactured. In addition to these properties, the Messrs. Blair own considerable other real estate in Placerville, and have each built themselves a handsome residence in the town.

In 1861 James returned to his native heath, and brought out the balance of the Blair family to share the blessings of the home in California to which the two adventurous, ambitious, and plucky young Highlanders had first paved the way. The father had died in the meantime and the family then consisted of the mother, two sisters and one brother. The brother who had accompanied James to America was at that time living in Ohio, and he, with his family proceeded to New York, and, joining the balance of the family, returned with them by water to California. Thus, the whole family was once more happily united under the sunny skies of the Golden State, and with the exception of the last named brother, Matthew, who was afterwards (sic) killed by an accident, they are still living in this locality.

In 1860 John Blair espoused Miss Jane Robertson, and six children, three of whom are now living, were the result of their union. James married Miss Amanda Schooley in 1867, and is the proud father of a fine family of six children, three boys and three girls.

Amanda Schooley Blair

The Blair Brothers are patriotic American citizens, and take a lively interest in the success of their party, but have never allowed their names to be used in connection with any political office. They are looked up to in all public matters, and the endorsement of the Blairs of any project affecting the interests of the community is a guarantee of its consumation (sic).

What Our Mothers Wore

What Our Mothers Wore

Mothers wore house dresses. Occasionally you might spot a mom in clam diggers or pedal pushers. Shorts were for kids. A grown woman was never seen in them. My mother owned some; I know because she handed them down to me, but I never saw her wear them, likewise I have no recollection of my mother wearing a bathing suit. Yet, I do recall that she owned at least one bathing cap, because that too, was passed down to me. Women and girls had to wear bathing caps in public pools, because it was said their long hair would foul the drains. In the ‘60’s boys began to wear long hair and the rule was changed – more of the blatant chauvinism we meekly accepted in the 40’s and 50’s. If women wore full length pants, it was for a very specific purpose, horseback riding, flying an airplane, or because she was a strange person. Dresses were worn to play tennis.

Other mothers wore nice dresses, with stockings held up by girdles or garter belts, high heeled shoes, jewelry and lipstick. My mother wore cotton housedresses with brown oxfords and bobby sox. She had very few clothes and they were quite worn. She said she would not wear junk jewelry, only the real thing. The only jewelry she owned was her tiny chip of a diamond engagement ring and a narrow gold band, she wore no other jewelry. The gold band wore so thin it broke and my dad had the two halves mounted on new gold bands and they each wore half of the original ring.

My mother was beautiful – she resembled Lauren Bacall, and she had a very good figure. I felt sorry for other girls who had old moms or fat moms. She was especially pretty when she got dressed up to go to the General Engineering department’s Christmas party. She had a new party dress each year – probably because last years’ was ruined. I remember wine stains and cigarette burns on her clothes after a party. Most of the party clothes were rayon and melted very easily when touched by a cigarette. Since everyone smoked, that was pretty likely to happen. One year her party dress was bright red taffeta and she looked so pretty – she always wore Apple Blossom perfume. When my dad saw her in her dress all ready to go to the party, he said, “Wow, red!” Baby brother Kenny mimicked him and said “Wow, red!” What he had noticed was how good she smelled and he thought “Red” meant good-smelling. For years after we said, “Wow, you smell red!” when someone smelled good.

When we became the same size we shared party dresses. I didn’t like that arrangement because if she borrowed my dress, it came back with cigarette holes and if I wore hers, I had to wear a dress with burn marks

Because I was the oldest of five children, Mom was pregnant a fair amount of the time. She had more to wear then because friends passed on their maternity clothes to her. I remember one pink maternity dress she wore when expecting Valery. She looked cute in it and my cousin Connie, who must have been three years old at the time said, “Aunt Ruthanne, can I have that dress when you outgrow it?”

My grandmother Mimi treated me like her baby doll. She took me shopping, and to ladies lunches with fashion shows. We usually went to Edy’s where I would have a deviled egg sandwich and a hot fudge sundae, or to Capwell’s restaurant where I had a half avocado stuffed with crab meat. If we went to San Francisco, we went to Townsends where she ate creamed spinach –I wouldn’t touch the stuff. Going downtown or to San Francisco was a big deal and we got all dressed up – the grown up women always wore hats and gloves. Often we had our picture taken by a sidewalk photographer. Mimi usually sent for the photograph.

Mimi dressed well – often in a hand-knit dress she had made herself. In truth, she was not very attractive, but I never realized it because she was always so well groomed and such a coy flirt. She smelled of lavender and exuded feminity.

Like many teenagers, I became ashamed of my mother and the way she dressed. I made and bought her clothes for birthdays and Christmases which I think she took as criticism. And it was. My gifts often ended up crumpled on the closet floor and I never saw her wear them. Of course, I gave her things I would have liked for myself, so they were probably more to the taste of a 50’s teenage girl than a mature, approaching middle-age (37!), woman. And so we entered an age of mutual disapproval.

Under the Rug

Today while vacuuming threads from the wine-colored rug in my dining/sewing room, I was seized with serious case of déjà-vu. It wasn’t far for my mind to wander from the rug under foot to the old burgundy one in my Leona Street bedroom which lay on the asphalt tile, covering the spot where a built-in bed frame had been ripped out, leaving an untiled patch in the middle of the floor.

One of the men from General Engineering at Owens-Illinois Glass Company got wall-to-wall carpeting installed in his home and gave my dad his old surplus rug. It was green and looked nice in the living room of our Athol Avenue house. It coordinated well with the green and white ivy-on-a-trellis wallpaper and the pale green Venetian blinds. Dad snatched up the blinds when they became surplus at the office. He brought them home, disassembled them, painstakingly painted each slat, and then reassembled them. Recycling is not a new concept. “New” things in our family usually were surplus, discarded, outgrown, or otherwise rejected by the previous owners. We acquired dogs to horses, and bricks to bridge piers this way. Admittedly my Dad was quick to spot an opportunity, but I don’t think he was atypical. I think much more got recycled by the generation that grew up during the Great Depression and lived with rationing and scarcity during World War II.

Back to the green rug: we were delighted with it. Previously we had known only hardwood floors which Dad refinished every time Mom went to the hospital to have a baby. However, one Saturday morning while our parents slept, my brother decided to “borrow” Dad’s India ink and pens to make a sign for our Kool-Aid stand. The ink spilled on the green carpet and nothing could be done to remove the spot. So, the rug was dyed deep burgundy. (In those days things were repaired, not replaced.) It worked very well; you couldn’t tell where the stain had been. Of course, the rug no longer looked perfect in the room and it attracted every speck of lint or animal hair in the house. But, that wasn’t a problem very long, because we soon moved to a hundred year old house on Leona Street. The new living room was much larger and came with a big pink rug.

My bedroom in the new house came with a built-in double bed frame that matched the knotty pine that reached six feet up the twelve foot walls. But the bed frame had to go because my bed and bedding were twin-size. And no one was standing by to recycle a double bed mattress and linens. However, when the bed frame was removed, we learned that the asphalt tile was laid after the bed was built. The tile quit at the edge of the former bed. No problem! We had the burgundy rug which was not needed anywhere, so it became mine. I was thrilled! Not only was I the only one in the family with my own room, but I was the only one with a rug in my bedroom.

Now you have to understand that this house was old, in the country, and inhabited by seven people, two dogs, and two cats. Consequently, it was very hard to keep clean. And that brings me back to vacuuming burgundy rugs. Our vacuum cleaner was not very good, hand-me-down that it was—someone got rid of it for a good reason. Running the wand of this Electrolux over the rug did nothing to change the appearance of the rug. I found the only way to remove all that settled there, was to get on my hands and knees and with the suctioning end of the hose, comb over every square inch of the bloody thing. Just like I do now to pick up the threads that drift from my quilting projects to today’s wine red scourge.