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Contrary to popular belief, sunny Southern California has seen its fair share of snowstorms. Lancaster, located in the high desert, sits at an elevation of 2,356 feet. Usually, the snow only lasts a few hours and rarely sticks, however, at other times it's lasted for days. This photo depicts Lancaster residents partaking in a snowball fight on the northwest corner of Tenth Street and Antelope Avenue on December 29, 1916. Photo courtesy of MOAH Collections

Ann Elizabeth Covington Dearborn (1846 – 1910) was one of the first non-Hispanic women to settle in the Antelope Valley. She was born and raised in Indiana before her family set out to cross the plains in an ox-drawn prairie schooner. During this long trip, she met and married William Covington. They settled in Salt Lake City, Utah, shortly after. William wanted to take a second wife, and Ann attested to this by running away with their six children. Ann settled in Nevada with her children and opened a rooming house. This didn’t last long, however, as they soon set out for the Los Angeles area which ultimately led them to the Antelope Valley. While in Los Angeles, she operated another rooming house and rented out freight teams. Once her divorce from Covington was finalized, she married Elias Marquess Dearborn and moved to the Antelope Valley in 1869. Elias began cattle-raising at Indian Springs, just east of the Rosamond area. While staying here, they had many friendly encounters with local Native Americans. The family eventually moved further out toward Mojave, where Elias built a stage station called Cactus Castle. They later also relocated to Twin Lakes and Rincon. After Elias passed away in 1907, Ann moved to Mojave where she stayed until her death. Ann once reported that while Elias was out on a business venture, their home was visited by the notorious Tubercio Vasquez and his gang of bandits as they searched for a place to stay overnight. Originally denying them access to her home, Ann begrudgingly let them stay after confiscating their weapons. Ann was a successful pioneer woman, making her own soap to last for extended periods of time, as well as making her own candles and knitting socks, mittens, scarves, and more for herself and her family. She also milked cows, made cheese and sold butter. She grew potatoes in her garden that were sold in Bakersfield, Mojave, Lancaster, and the community that would later become Palmdale. One of her daughters, Mary, married the would-be famous Borax miner John Searles, while her other daughter, Nancy, married Eben Skillings, Searles’ friend and business partner. Ann is also the great-great-great-grandmother of another well-known Lancaster figure, Dorene Burton Settle. "Gurba, Norma H. Legendary Locals of the Antelope Valley. Arcadia, 2013. Photo courtesy of MOAH Collections"

Florence Lowe "Pancho" Barnes (born Florence Leontine Lowe) was a pioneer aviatrix, and one of the most well-known female pilots of her time. She learned to fly in 1928, going on to break Amelia Earhart's speed record only two years later in 1930, traveling at 196.19 mph. After this accomplishment, she went on to pursue the film industry as a Hollywood stunt flier. Having experienced these working conditions firsthand, she established the Associated Motion Picture Pilots union in 1931, promoting safety and fair wages for stunt pilots. In 1935, she purchased 180 acres of land in the Mojave Desert, adjacent to Rogers Dry Lake and Muroc Air Field. On her land, she built the Happy Bottom Riding Club, a dude ranch that catered to the local airmen and test pilots. The Happy Bottom Riding Club became the go-to spot to celebrate successful test flights, with Barnes offering a free steak dinner for breaking the sound barrier. She became close friends with many of the early test pilots, including Chuck Yeager, Buzz Aldrin, and Jimmy Doolittle, among others. Pancho later became known as the "Mother of Edwards Air Force Base", with the Officer's mess named in her honor. After she died in 1975, special permissions were granted by the United States Air Force, allowing her ashes to be spread over the site of her original Happy Bottom Riders Club. Her life and shining personality were commemorated in the 1983 film "The Right Stuff", based on the book written by Tom Wolfe. "Gurba, Norma H. Legendary Locals of the Antelope Valley. Arcadia, 2013. Photo courtesy of MOAH Collections"

Chester Conklin (1886 – 1971) was an early circus clown and vaudeville actor, appearing in over 280 films. He gained fame through his roles in the Keystone Cops movies. It was this movie series that originally brought him to the Antelope Valley when one of the untitled Keystone Cops movies was filmed at Red Rock Canyon between 1912 and 1914. He would eventually own a turkey ranch in the area, off of the old Mojave-Randsburg road. His property was later purchased by California City developer Nathaniel Mendelsohn. Chester is shown here at the far right. "Gurba, Norma H. Legendary Locals of the Antelope Valley. Arcadia, 2013. Photo courtesy of MOAH Collections"

As many long-time residents know, the Western Hotel/Museum has undergone many changes throughout the years. The Hotel was built in 1888, and was known by many names including the Antelope Valley Hotel, the Gillwyn Hotel, and Hotel Western before its best-known and current name was adopted circa 1895. As the oldest surviving building in Lancaster's historic downtown area, the Western Hotel is undoubtedly associated with the early settlement and development of the community which is an important event in local and regional history. Furthermore, the Hotel is the only Victorian-era and Victorian-style buildings extant in the city and therefore represents a distinctive example of the style, type, and period in the community. Around the early 1900s, the Hotel was one of the few buildings located along an empty Tenth Street (now present-day Lancaster Boulevard). Behind the hotel, were old stables which were looked after by "Old Jeff." Old Jeff was an employee of the hotel, in charge of the horses and buckboards (four-wheeled open wagons). Old Jeff was also responsible for hauling passengers and luggage to and from the Western Hotel and the train depot for 50 cents to $2.00. If you were a guest staying at the Hotel during this time, you were provided a washbasin and chamber pot within your room, however, bathroom facilities were a separate shower building and outhouse also located within the back of the building. Judy Garland (born Frances Ethel Gumm) attended a few years at the original Lancaster Grammar School located across the street from the Hotel and lived with her family along Cedar Avenue. While playing with a friend after school, Garland ran barefoot across a slab of wet cement leaving behind a permanent imprint of her small foot. Recently, the slab was removed from the backyard for documentation and preservation; in the future, a casted mold will be placed in the footprint’s original location. Between 1908 and 1915 the Hotel acted as the headquarters for the aqueduct, electrical, gas, petroleum, and paving crews. The aqueduct, stretching from the Owens Valley into the Antelope Valley, helped the town recover from a decade-long drought, and in order to accommodate the numerous workers, a “tent city” was erected just west of the hotel. During this time, Myrtie and her staff housed and fed as many as 250 to 300 men per day; in a newspaper article that dates back to 1955, Myrtie herself states that she had to, “rise two to three times a night to change linen in the tents and also two sleeping rooms in the water tower.” Below, photos can be seen of the backyard with the “tent cities” established – in one of the photos, proprietors of the hotel can be seen with Myrtie Webber (second from left) and George Webber leaning against a tree. Today, the Western Hotel’s backyard is yet again undergoing some changes. As previously mentioned, some artifacts were removed for preservation purposes; these include Garland’s footprint along with a few Native American mortars. The courtyard which inhabits the gazebo is currently being renovated, and plants native to the region are being added. Upon the completion of these projects, this area will not only be a nice place to relax after touring the museum but will also be available as a rental space through the Lancaster Museum of Art and History (MOAH) for those that want to host outdoor events. Stay tuned for updates on the project’s progress and completion dates, along with any potential information on the Western Hotel Museum’s reopening! Photos courtesy of MOAH’s Permanent Collection.

Josephine Stevens Whitehill Bishop was born June 18, 1875 in Silver City, New Mexico. Her father, Harvey Whitehill gained notoriety as sheriff of Grant County, New Mexico. He was the first officer to arrest Billy the Kid, before the outlaw gained widespread infamy. Josie grew up as a frontier girl, accustomed to the loneliness and hardwork of the desert. At 19, she began a career as a teacher. During this time, she met Herbert Hall Bishop. The two married on March 4, 1896. After marrying, the Bishops traveled around the United States for several years. Together, they parented seven children. However, the couple was not destined to last. In 1920, they separated and Josie moved to Long Beach, California, where she pursued work as an actress. Though Josie gained moderate success, appearing in films like “The Last of the Mohicans,” and “The Pathfinder,” she longed to return to the frontier. Acting in Westerns was no replacement for real frontier living. In 1925, Josie left Hollywood behind, striking out to Jawbone Canyon to begin life as a prospector and miner. An old friend from New Mexico, John Christie told her about the discoveries of gold and silver in the Mojave, and that was all the encouragement Josie needed to leave Tinseltown. Though it was a tough life, Josie adored the desert. With the company of her friend Henry “Scotty” Cook, Josie kept going through the tough times, always pursuing the dream of striking it rich. Prospecting in the desert is hard work, and without any discoveries on the claim, Josie and Scotty relied on odd jobs to keep going. They drilled a well on their land and sold water to other prospectors. Josie also wrote for the Cantil newspaper and served on juries as a way of making ends meet. Their work was hindered by a fire that burned down all the buildings and equipment on Josie’s claim in 1932. Though arson was suspected, no one was ever arrested, and the accident caused a huge setback in Josie’s efforts. It wasn’t until 1937 that Josie struck it rich. In the dusty desert canyons, she found not gold or silver like other miners had, but something much more valuable. Josie had uncovered the richest deposit of radium to have been found at that time. Before the discovery was known, Josie often wondered why her eyes stung when working in her mine. Josie called in the help of Cecil B. Rathbone, a mineralogist from San Diego to determine what was going on. Rathbone found that the deposit was super rich in radium, with 190 milligrams of radium bromide per ton of concentrated ore. Now, knowing just how valuable her find was, Josie kept it secret while she sorted out some legal issues with the land. At the same time, she bought up another 11 claims, covering 170 acres. As she waited for the legal proceedings to conclude, Josie is said to have held off process servers with a shotgun. There was good reason for Josie to jealously guard her claim; in those days, radium sold for $72,000 per gram. In today’s money, that would be a staggering $1,371,550 per gram! Josie sunk two mine shafts on her property, one to mine the radium, and the other to search for silver and gold deposits. Because gold had been found not too far from Josie’s claim, it was possible that her land was rich in more than just radioactivity! After news of Josie’s success became public, she was dubbed the Radium Queen of the Mojave. Josie toured the United States as a representative of Kern County as well as the mining industry at large. She was featured in Time Magazine and in Ripley’s Believe It or Not. She spoke with politicians, and brought attention to the people of Kern County. For two years, Josie shone in the limelight, with many never learning that her only payout for her find was about $50. Josie may have found a super-rich deposit, but it can be hard to translate rich ore into monetary wealth. Josie struggled to mine and process the radium. Later she struck a seemingly lucrative deal to sell the mine for a million dollars to be paid in royalties as the ore was extracted. The mine never went into production after this and Josie was left without any payout. Josie was a unique woman. Dedicated and unflinching as a desert prospector, but also incredibly caring. Had she received a bigger payout, it was her dream to establish a home for old prospectors. She wanted to provide a place for them to find community, support and care. She was also an amateur “desertologist.” Growing up in New Mexico, and then finding her home in the Mojave, Josie found solace in the tranquility of the desert. She made study of the native plants and animals around her claim. The cycles of deadly summer heat and chilling deserts never dissuaded Josie. Josie worked and lived on her claim in Jawbone Canyon from 1932 all the way until her death in 1951 at age 76. She was buried near her home. Following her death, Josie’s grandson Bill Bishop pushed for a memorial to be placed near Josie’s claim. With help from the East Kern Historical Museum Society, a monument was placed at the Jawbone Station and is designated as a California Point of Historical Interest. Josie’s family has since relinquished their ownership of the claim to the federal government, and all the riches discovered there remain unearthed. Sources: MOAH Collections Bureau of Land Management - Ridgecrest. “Josie Bishop Radium Queen of the Mojave.” http://www.stevens-whitehill.org/Publications/PDFs/Josie_Bishop_BLM_Flyer.pdf Elliot, Virgil. “Josie Bishop, Radium Queen of the Mojave,” Settler’s Gazette. January 1999. Gillis, Bill. “Claim gave fame, no money,” Antelope Valley Press. June 23, 1993.

Bigfoot comes and goes through our valley, but there is another cryptid said to have lived here more permanently. Though we’re a desert community, the Antelope Valley used to have its own lake monster in Lake Elizabeth. As the largest naturally occurring lake in Los Angeles county, Lake Elizabeth inspired distinctive legends about its origins. According to The Old West Coast by Horace Bell, the legend goes that the lake was carved out by Satan and made a home to a terrible beast. A Spanish lieutenant called Pico was searching the Mojave for lost missionaries, including Father Junipero Serra. As Pico and his men struggled to find the missionaries, their water supplies dwindled. In a fit of frustration, Pico declared that he would sell his soul if only he could find Father Serra. The devil then erupted from the ground, ready to collect Pico’s soul, but when the lieutenant brandished his crucifix, the demon fled. The next day, Pico and his men found a lake where the devil had sprung. Originally called “La Laguna del Diablo,” strange things happened around the lake for many years. Ranches mysteriously burned, and residents caught sight of a beast living in the lake. Don Guillermo Embustero y Mentiroso, a descendant of Spanish explorers, recalled in 1930 the sight of the monster, “A great whistling, hissing, screaming roar issued... so near to us that we could smell the nauseating, fetid breath of the monster.” Another observer described his encounter with the beast near its lair: “It is a mouth of hell … Frightful and unearthly noises have emanated from those depths. Screams, shrieks, groans as though Hell itself might live there.” Horace Bell’s book suggests that the monster met its end in the late 1880s. He describes an encounter where a man called El Basquo Grande was able to coax the monster from the lake and chase it away. Taking flight, the lake monster flew from California, heading eastward. Shortly thereafter, it’s said that two ranchers in Arizona shot down the beast. Though this version of the tale ends rather abruptly, others have suggested that the monster remains in its watery den. Sightings of the Lake Elizabeth Monster were relatively frequent through the 1860s to the 1890s. Since then, the most recent sighting was in 1989, when two fishermen claimed to see a monster “bigger than a whale, with wings like a bat, a head like a bulldog,” in the lake, and which stank terribly. Since this last sighting, no one has claimed to see the monster. Perhaps it was really killed by the Arizona ranchers, or perhaps it never really existed. It could even still be down there, hidden away underwater. Whatever the case, the Lake Elizabeth monster makes an interesting addition to Antelope Valley history. Sources: MOAH Collections Kraus, Joe. “The Devil built this Valley road,” Antelope Valley Ledger-Gazette. November 12, 1982. Skeen, Jim and David Foy. “Strange phenomena afoot and aflight,” Antelope Valley Press. July 16, 1989.

Cryptids are those strange, and sometimes monstrous, creatures that we’re not sure actually exist or not. Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and Mothman are some of the most well known of these mysterious monsters. The Antelope Valley is home to a couple cryptids of its own, with witnesses unsure of what exactly they’ve seen, only that it’s something out of the ordinary. The most famous cryptid of the AV is definitely Bigfoot. Supposedly, a migrating Sasquatch passes through the Tehachapi Mountains, skirting around Lancaster, Quartz Hill, and Palmdale to get to the San Gabriel Mountains. During the 1970s Bigfoot craze, enthusiasts Rich Grumley and Floyd Smith suggested that sightings increased in the winter due to the creature seeking warmer climates. Sightings in Lancaster and Palmdale typically peak in February, and are usually in the foothills or near Saddleback Butte. Bigfoot is said to stand at a towering 12 feet in height. With an estimated weight of between 800 and 1000 pounds, and covered in thick, shaggy hair, Bigfoot is a sight not forgotten by the people who spot them. With a high sloping forehead, and exposed leathery skin on the face, hands and feet, Bigfoot is thought to be some unknown species of ape. Some witnesses have also said that they smelled the giant before seeing it, describing a foul, “skunk-like” odor that only disappeared after the creature had gone. Though no pictures of the Southern California Sasquatch have been taken, California remains a hotspot for Bigfoot sightings. In the 1970s, the Antelope Valley saw a particular zeal in finding the creature, with locals regularly documenting sightings and even taking plaster casts of footprints. These footprints are a massive 19 to 22 inches in length and 10 inches in width. The creature’s strides are said to be a full five feet. Grumley and Smith, who were the president and vice-president of the California Bigfoot Organization, respectively, headed the search for Bigfoot in the 1970s. Grumley, Smith, and other CBFO members tracked sightings, interviewed witnesses, and combed the countryside for any sign of the elusive creature. When footprints were found, Grumley attempted to recreate them in order to determine their authenticity. Grumley, a big man at 6’ 5” and 290 lbs, and going at a running leap, was unable to match the force of the footprints. This led him to believe that the footprints were genuine. Bigfoot enthusiasts suggest that the creatures’ diets are primarily made up of fruits, nuts, and small animals, based on evidence gathered on migration trails. Sasquatch are generally thought to be peaceful—in most sightings they appear crouched over, cautious, and curious. However, other anecdotes suggest that Bigfoot enjoys meat and will resort to raiding ranches for livestock. Grumley and Smith interviewed witnesses who had seen a more frightening side of these cryptids. Among those witnesses interviewed was a turkey rancher who claimed that over 600 birds disappeared after a sighting. The birds were sick with Newcastle disease and had already died by the time of the sighting, but were awaiting cremation. The birds were kept in a secure place to avoid spreading infection to healthy animals, but somehow the turkeys all disappeared without a trace. Another man, a prospector, to work with Grumley and Smith claimed to have had a horrifying encounter with seven Sasquatch back in 1939. Looking for gold in the Borrego Badlands, the prospector built a temporary camp for himself and his two mules against the canyon walls. In the middle of the night, he woke to his burros stirring with fear. Beyond his campfire, he saw a troop of massive creatures covered in shaggy, gray fur and standing upright. One mule was able to break free of its restraints and retreat behind the fire with the prospector, but the other was set upon by the gargantuan apes. The prospector watched in horror as his mule was devoured raw right in front of him. The only thing that seemed to deter the group of Bigfoots was the prospector’s fire. He kept it stoked throughout the night, watching for the creatures the entire time. As the sun rose, he at last saw the monsters retreating, and was able to make his own escape from the desert Sasquatch. There are few recorded attacks on humans by Bigfoot. Those few reports are said to have occurred before the 1930s and were provoked. Despite this, the eerie stories told to Grumley and Smith may have you watching your step if you go hiking in the desert. Keep an eye (and camera) out for gargantuan footprints and keep your nose open for a skunk-like stench, and give these mysterious monsters a wide berth. Sources: MOAH Collections "Bigfoot prints believed found by Valley men," Ledger-Gazette, Vol. 86, No. 35. February 18, 1972. MacKenzie, Bill. “Palmdale man hopes to launch expedition to capture Bigfoot in Borrego Badlands,” Daily Ledger-Gazette. September 21, 1971. Varner, Gary. “Search for evidence of man-animal spreads around the world,” Daily Ledger-Gazette. March 21, 1974. Wheeler, Chuck. “February may be Big Foot’s most active month,” Daily Ledger-Gazette. January 9. 1973.

When driving through the desert on Highway 138, you might see the ruins of some old buildings sitting abandoned amongst the Joshua Trees. However, if you were to travel this route a little over 100 years ago, you would have instead seen a community of idealistic individuals all taking part in an ambitious, but ultimately failed, experiment in socialism. Between 1914 and 1918, around 900 individuals lived in a socialist colony in the southeastern corner of the Antelope Valley, near where Pearblossom sits today. Founded by Job and John Harriman, the Llano del Rio Cooperative Colony has been called the most important non-religious utopian colony in Western American history. Author Aldous Huxley described the colony as the “desert Ozymandias,” in reference to the Percy Shelley poem, due to the heights of its ambition in the face of its ultimate failure. Job was an ordained minister and attorney from Los Angeles. Handsome, charismatic, and “starry-eyed,” he was also an aspiring politician, running for California governor (1898), Vice President of the United States (1900), and mayor of Los Angeles twice (1910s). Despite Job’s ambition, he was defeated in each election, in large part because of his Marxist leanings. When Los Angeles would not have him, Job struck out into the Mojave Desert, planning to make his mark in a different way. On May Day of 1914, Job and a contingent of fellow socialists founded the experimental colony in Llano del Rio. Its purpose was to create a utopian community where everyone worked together and took care of one another. These first colonists stayed in tents initially, but permanent housing was quickly constructed along with all kinds of other amenities. Schools, workshops, and even a hotel were constructed to service the growing community. The colonists bought up land and brought in fruit trees and livestock. They dug out irrigation ditches and cleared the fields. Together the people living within the Llano Colony worked to grow produce to sell. The money earned by the colony was used communally—everyone had a share in both production and profit. 90% of the food consumed by colonists was food that they produced themselves. But it wasn’t all work and no play. The colony members formed a variety of clubs and organizations. The Live Wires Dramatic Club performed plays, and a number of bands were formed, including a brass band and a barber-shop ensemble. In the wide open desert, the sounds of the bands’ music could be heard by non-Socialist neighbors of the Cooperative Colony. Colonists sought to bring modern life out to the desert with them. This included such things as a printing press, automobiles, and even an airplane. The aircraft leads into one of the more memorable aspects of the Colony’s history: the burnt plane mystery. In 1916, one of the colony members bought parts to build an airplane. Together with other members, they constructed a working plane - one of the first in the Antelope Valley. Despite being operational, it ultimately never took to the air. In the early morning of September 22, 1916—the same day that the aircraft’s first flight was scheduled to take place—the plane was mysteriously destroyed in a fire. It was never discovered who had destroyed the plane, whether it was other colony members or someone from outside the community. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but it surely put a damper on the spirits of the people that had constructed the plane. Despite the success of the Colony’s early days, cracks soon began to show. Job Harriman had been a brilliant attorney, but was not as talented at running a growing desert community. The plan had been for the community to grow food on community-owned farms that could then be used to feed everyone and fund projects. However, the farms never produced enough to pull in an adequate profit, and the Colony was kept afloat by members’ savings. As those savings dwindled, life in the Llano del Rio Cooperative Colony became a lot harder. Huxley, who spoke to some of the former colonists, wrote, “there was a sense of shared high purpose, a sustaining conviction that one had broken out of an age-old prison and was marching, shoulder to shoulder with loyal comrades, towards a promised land.” This hope sustained the Colony in its early days, but as time wore on, more and greater problems arose. Job Harriman had a poor understanding of water supply. The Big Rock Creek could not supply enough water to sustain the thousand colonists and grow enough produce to generate income for the community. As they continued to struggle, many people grew disillusioned with the utopian ideals of the community and left. In the end there were “too many people, too little water, and no money,” (Huxley). The Llano del Rio Cooperative Colony broke apart after just four years, with many members returning to ordinary lives. 200 of the still optimistic colony members left to seek greener pastures in Vernon Parish, Louisiana and started the “New Llano” Cooperative Colony. New Llano was much more successful than the original Llano del Rio Cooperative Colony, with members pooling resources and sharing ownership of a newspaper, broom factory, sawmill, ice plant, and sheet metal factory through the Great Depression, up until 1937. With almost two decades of operation, the New Llano Cooperative Colony was arguably the most successful socialist colony in the United States. Though New Llano has since left its socialist roots behind, the town still exists today with a population of about 2,500 people. Sources: MOAH Collections Huxley, Aldous. “Ozymandias: the Utopia that Failed.” Fortnight. April 27, 1953. “'New Llano Colony' museum opens Saturday.” KPLC7 News. August 24, 2013. https://www.kplctv.com/story/23247607/history-of-new-llano-socialist-colony-to-be-highlighted-at-new-museum/

Sometimes it can be easy to forget how long our desert city has really existed. But Lancaster, as a city, has over a 100 years of rich history, and some of the early settler families that moved into this area are still here and carrying on the legacy of their ancestors. This is exemplified by the story of the Mumaw family, who have been Valley residents since the late 1800s. To honor the long legacy of the Mumaw family, we’d like to take the opportunity to highlight some of their contributions to the history of our community. The story of the Mumaws in Lancaster begins with George R. Mumaw. George owned and operated the Valleys first lumber yard and ice-house, and later operated a Standard Oil station. These businesses provided the area with much needed services. Ice was a necessity for desert living, and many ranches and mines relied on George’s businesses for building supplies and fuel. However, despite this impressive list of businesses, many in the Mumaw family would find their calling in a vastly different path. Most of us in the Antelope Valley know the Mumaws for their work as morticians, owning and operating the Mumaw Funeral Home. For the past 108 years (at the time of writing), the Mumaw family has faithfully served residents of the Antelope Valley as skilled and dedicated morticians and funeral directors. Wesley S. Mumaw began working as a mortician in 1913. Before this, Lancaster had no true funerary specialist. From 1890-97, Sam McCracken, a local barber and Justice of the Peace, would obtain caskets from Los Angeles. When necessary, McCracken used the cellar of his barbershop to provide undertaker services. After McCracken left, Valley residents relied on local carpenters for caskets and morticians from Los Angeles were called on to prepare bodies for burial. Wesley established his new funeral home on Date Avenue in Lancaster, where the family still provides their services today. In 1915, the business received its operating license when California established a licensing bureau. Through the Mumaw Funeral Home, Wesley and his family devoted themselves to providing the best modern funeral services possible. The mortuary is a fully comprehensive building that, when it was first established, provided rural Valley residents with services that previously could only be found in Los Angeles. With a chapel, viewing room, music room, and more, the Mumaw Funeral Home gave residents the somber and grand funerals that were previously unattainable. The first hearse in the Valley was bought by Wesley in 1916. And four years later as automobiles became more commonplace, Wesley mounted the body of a horse-drawn hearse to his Studebaker. And thus this frankensteined vehicle was the Antelope Valley’s first motorized hearse. After Wesley passed away, his son, Roy took over and operated the business with his wife, Florence, and son, J. Wesley "Wes" Mumaw. Wes dedicated himself to the family business, earning a degree from the California College of Mortuary Sciences at age 21 in 1937. He worked alongside Roy for a handful of years before the start of World War II. Wes then went on to serve with the Allied troops. As a technical sergeant, he continued his work as an embalmer and mortician during the course of his service. Though many may imagine the workings of a funeral home to be grim, the Mumaw family has shown that not only is the trade essential to building a thriving community, it can also be incredibly rewarding to the morticians that provide the services. It’s no easy work to help grieving families in their time of need, but the Mumaw family has stepped up with an unparalleled level of grace and dedication over the past century. Morticians provide help to people when they need it the most, and this is ultimately why the Mumaws have stayed in the funeral industry for so long. Today the business is operated by Jim Mumaw, the fourth generation of Mumaws to operate the funeral home. Though the funeral home has been passed down through the family since its founding, Jim Mumaw says that he briefly considered other professions as a young man. He rarely thought about the business growing up, because of how often he was at the funeral home. But like his ancestors before him, he found that the business called to him. No other profession really fit. Outside of the funeral home, Jim’s daughter, Captain Katrina Mumaw is a point of pride for Antelope Valley residents. Rather than following in the footsteps of her forefathers, Katrina found her calling thousands of feet above the Earth. At age five, Katrina flew for the first time as a passenger, and since that time, found herself drawn to the exciting world of aviation. The skilled and ambitious pilot has broken numerous records in aviation, including being the youngest pilot to break the sound barrier at age 11. Flying a MiG-29 jet fighter over Moscow, Katrina clocked in at 940 miles per hour. Because of this feat, she was known for a time as “The Fastest Child in the World.” Now an adult, Katrina has gone on to graduate from the U.S. Air Force Academy. The Mumaw family has been here for generations, helping Lancaster grow into the city we know today. Through the family’s combined contributions as dedicated undertakers, as well as the accomplishments of individual family members, the Mumaws have helped to shape Lancaster through the past century. Sources: MOAH Collections Breault, Rich. “Youngster Follows in Family’s Footsteps.” Antelope Valley Press, 1998. Thacker, Karen. “Assembly Names A.V. Aviator, 11, Fastest Child.” The Antelope Valley Daily News, 1994.

Barbecue has long been considered an American summer tradition. Picked up from the Spanish settlers and Native Americans, barbecue has brought communities together throughout the years. This fact was well known to Rawley Bruce Duntley, the “Barbecue King” of the Antelope Valley. Growing up in early Lancaster, when the town still consisted primarily of cattle ranchers, Rawley Duntley was not the stereotypical lone cowboy of Hollywood. Instead, Duntley was a gregarious force of personality who helped transform the burgeoning town through charitable acts and devotion to his community. Born in 1883 in Iowa, to George F. and Hannah (Milson) Duntley, Rawley Duntley moved with his family to California when he was only six years old. On their “inspection tour,” as Rawley would later describe the family's trek west, the family passed through Bakersfield and the Tehachapi Mountains before settling in the Antelope Valley. The town back then had only a handful of other children, and Rawley remembered the school nearly closing for lack of children. Only when a teacher with a school-aged child was hired was the school able to operate without the threat of closure. Always a hard worker, Rawley happily took to ranch work. Though his parents relocated to Los Angeles only two years after moving to California, Rawley felt drawn back to the desert. He had a deep love for wide, open spaces, and enjoyed working with cattle. As a teenager, he moved back to the Antelope Valley, first to work at his uncle’s ranch, then later for S.P. Cushman in Del Sur. In those early days, Rawley drove cattle through the mountains and to the slaughterhouse, all the way in Hollywood. All the while, Rawley was working towards establishing a ranch of his own. During his time working for Cushman, Rawley befriended fellow cattleman, William Doyle. Later, he would meet Doyle’s daughter Ina. A native to the Mojave Desert, Ina was no delicate flower. Her determined and generous spirit matched Rawley’s personality well, and the two soon fell in love. In 1905, Rawley married Ina, and they had a son, Lawrence, the following year. The couple worked cattle together, with Ina frequently riding with a young Lawrence in tow. Five years after their marriage, Rawley and Ina moved to a 9,000 acre ranch, in Oak Creek Canyon. After moving into the Duntley Ranch, the couple had three daughters, Marjorie, Myrtle, and Mary (who passed away at age 2). Rawley and Ina loved the ranch that they had worked so hard to purchase, and they lived there for 47 years, until Ina’s failing health forced them to move to Rosamond. One tale that cemented Rawley as a legendary barbecue pit master occurred during the Great Depression. Coming across a woman whose restaurant had lost power and was on the verge of financial collapse, Rawley leapt to action. He dug a pit barbecue in front of the restaurant and then rode off to share his plan with Ina. That night Ina prepared the “trimmings,” while Rawley rode on to tell other families about the upcoming barbecue. The following day, the community gathered at the restaurant, enjoying the Duntleys’ barbecue and buying enough soft drinks that the restaurant owner was able to hold on to her business. And with that, Rawley became known to his neighbors as the “Barbecue King.” When asked about his deep-pit barbecuing methods, Rawley credited the Native tribes for teaching him the secret of great barbecue. As a rancher, Rawley occasionally met the Native peoples of the Valley as he transported cattle. From them, he learned how to smoke and season the meat in such a way that made his barbecue legendary throughout the Valley. Always welcoming, the Duntleys hosted as many as 200 to 300 guests at a time for barbecues and dancing at their home. Ina always prepared the trimmings, while Rawley handled the beef. In addition to those hosted at the Duntley Ranch, Rawley contributed his skills to many fundraisers, always providing the meat for free. From Sacred Heart to Quartz Hill High School, many organizations benefited from Rawley’s neighborly demeanor and skill at the pit. Rawley went on to found the “Old Timer’s Barbecue,” an event that celebrated Valley residents that had lived in the area for 10 or more years (though this later increased to 20 years). The largest barbecue that Rawley worked boasted 5,000 guests from across the Kern and Los Angeles counties, from Death Valley to Newhall. This barbecue was hosted for the desert residents to discuss droughts that plagued the area. Even at this massive event, Rawley provided his services and supplies for free, waving off his charitable service as something that a good neighbor would do. “If a fellow can’t be neighborly what’s the use of living?” Rawley said once when asked about his charitable demeanor. This sentiment drove Rawley to be a powerful community organizer for Lancaster. If there was ever the need for it, he was ready and willing to dig up a deep barbecue pit and feed hundreds of his neighbors. Until his death in 1962, Rawley could be found providing a helping hand to those in need or hosting a spectacular barbecue. Despite the multitude of honors heaped on him, Rawley did what he did out of a genuine love for mankind. Today, the Rawley Duntley Park near Antelope Valley College carries on the name of “The Barbecue King.” The park was named after while he was still alive, a testament to his acts of community service. Though there are no deep barbeque pits, Rawley Duntley Park remains a great place for families and neighbors to convene, a fitting legacy for a man that devoted himself to the Antelope Valley.

Health is essential within any community; without medical practices or people working within medicine, any thriving community would quickly collapse. Medical and healthcare personnel are crucial to maintaining safety, sanitation and overall health within the communities that rely on them. In honor of all the medical workers who have dedicated themselves to their communities throughout the COVID-19 crisis, we’re taking a look at the history of medical practice within Lancaster and the Antelope Valley. Mentioned in a previous post, Anna “Mom” Evert played a monumental role within the Antelope Valley’s earliest healthcare system and is one of the most influential women in Lancaster’s history. Coming to Lancaster in 1891 with her husband Nick, “Mom” worked at her home as a practical nurse and midwife. On occasion, she even delivered babies with Myrtie Webber at the Western Hotel. Her house and medical office - one in the same - was located on the northeastern corner of Tenth Street (now Lancaster Blvd.) and Beech St. This served as the only hospital in Lancaster from about 1900 until 1921. During this time, her building housed the offices of Dr. James T. Arwine’s medical practice and later Dr. Seth H. Savage. Dr. Savage worked in minor surgery and medical cases, operating a licensed maternity hospital with x-ray and electrotherapeutic equipment. He succeeded Dr. Arwine as Lancaster’s primary medical doctor. Though Dr. Savage originally had his office at “Mom” Evert’s place, when Evert became ill, Mrs. Savage decided to add onto her home and build a new office for her son. The old Savage hospital was located on the southeast corner of 10th Street (now Lancaster Boulevard) and Cedar Ave., and was originally constructed as a residence for his mother, Mrs. Lucy E. Savage in 1921. At first it was just an office, but eventually the four front rooms of the house were dedicated to patients and functioned as a hospital for the residents of the Antelope Valley. By July 1924, the hospital had expanded again, offering space for 10 patients. It was enlarged further in 1928 and 1930. By 1931, Lancaster finally had a fully equipped, up-to-date hospital. With so much going on at the hospital, Dr. Savage often turned to local women for help. These women assisted with cooking, laundry, infant care, and sometimes even served as midwives. Some of his nurses through the years included Mrs. Maude Alston (1921), Mrs. Effie Dorman (1923), Mrs. Clare Le Dante (1924), and Mrs. Gladys Le Dante (1926). Dr. Savage’s hospital would later become the Lancaster Community Hospital and was taken over by Dr. W. R. Senseman in 1941. By the time Dr. Senseman took over the Lancaster Community Hospital, he had competition from Dr. C.B. Byrne’s hospital at 315 10th Street (directly east of the Cedar Complex). Dr. Craig B. Byrne (1904-1984), moved to Lancaster in May 1935 and opened his own practice soon after. He delivered babies and performed surgeries in his tiny hospital on Lancaster Blvd. In 1945, Dr. Homer Rowell became an associate of Dr. Byrne. Some of Byrnes' patients were Judy Garland and Florence Lowe “Pancho” Barnes. The Cedar Avenue Complex was originally built in 1923 and located on the southwest corner of Cedar and Lancaster Blvd., comprising five government buildings to serve as an office building known as the Memorial Hall, a sheriff’s substation, a garage, a jail, and a health center/veterans clinic. During WWII in 1942, Cedar Avenue Complex served as the center for Red Cross wartime food and clothing drives. The clinic, now known as the 606 building, is located next to what was the Byrne Hospital. Though these small, private clinics served the community well for a time, it quickly became apparent that a larger hospital would be needed to accommodate the swiftly growing population. At the time, the largest hospital in the area had only 11 beds for approximately 25,000 valley residents. The Desert Community Hospital Association was formed in 1949 with the goal of establishing a large, community-owned hospital. It was dedicated on October 1, 1955, located on about 18 acres at the southwestern corner of Avenue J and 15th St. in Lancaster, opening up as an 85-bed facility. Though it has expanded over the years, this was the beginning of the Antelope Valley Hospital that we know today. In addition to the hospitals set up for residents, Lancaster drew in a number of ailing persons from outside the area seeking better health. The Lancaster area was well known as a healthy region and ideal location for people seeking relief with pulmonary and bronchial problems. The high desert was rich in dry, clean air that people thought would help ease various illnesses, including most notably tuberculosis (TB). Two sanitariums, the Antelope Valley TB Sanitarium and the Krueger Sanitarium provided space for patients to rest and take in the good desert air. Before the establishment of the sanitariums, TB patients hoping the desert air would help them stayed in tents. The Antelope Valley TB Sanitarium operated in partnership with Dr. Rachmel, who operated out of a small office located west in the J.C. Penny store across from the Western Hotel. Dr. Rachmel would often send patients to the sanitarium to treat respiratory disease. However, his true specialty was in pregnancy and childbirth, even being considered one of the best obstetricians in Southern California. He was also known by locals for his motto: “A little toddy for the body.” While Lancaster was well known to residents for its quality of medical care, these were not the only doctors and clinics to serve Antelope Valley residents. Doctors throughout the valley set up practices and provided care to the people living nearby. Some of these physicians were: Dr. Alfred Hjalmar Swan, M.D. (1883-1959), who sought to establish a new, modern hospital in Palmdale. Swan, who served as a medical missionary in China, knew the importance of medical access and that building a new hospital in the southside of the valley would save residents from having to make the trip to Lancaster. Unfortunately, he passed away before seeing the hospital completed. Construction began February 8, 1964. This hospital was built at 1212 E. Ave. S. and named in dedication to Dr. Swan. Dr. Philip James Vogel - graduated from Loma Linda University in 1934, Vogel was responsible for opening the first modern medical clinic in Mojave in 1936. His partner was dentist Dr. Thomas Kindel. Though Vogel eventually left the valley for Pasadena, his work had a lasting impact on the Antelope Valley. Dr. Harold H. Snook, who later established a medical practice in Palmdale, first worked under Vogel. Acton local, Dr. Grace Shilling made a name for herself as a female doctor around 1907. Though she practiced primarily in Los Angeles, Dr. Shilling had a fondness for Acton, where she grew up. As a way of giving back to her old neighbors, Dr. Shilling made regular visits to her hometown to treat patients. These skilled professionals carried a passion for medicine that helped transform the Antelope Valley into the thriving area it is today. By treating illness, injury, and ensuring that mothers had a safe place to deliver their babies, these early doctors have left a lasting legacy behind. As we make use of the health services available to us today, we pay respect to the healthcare professionals of the past.