From the Shadow of Coyote Mountain to the Base of Mount Diablo

This is the story of a different type of early life. One not typically lived by modern day Americans.

We were not born wealthy, privileged or powerful. We lived in poverty, in squalor, more or less. We had dried animal hides for carpeting, unpainted buildings without concrete foundations, no electricity and no indoor plumbing. No car, no radio and no telephones. The walkways were dirt paths. The front lawn was full of animals and their droppings. Often the entire income for the year was derived from the sale of a cow, sheep or horse.

We grew up to be self sufficient, mostly well educated and productive members of society, not victims. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me, or my siblings who had a share in this early life. We lived in the middle of a 55,000 acre sheep ranch of which we owned not one square foot. Yet we could grab a rifle, walk for a day in most any direction, climb over any fence and go anywhere we wished, and no one yelled at us to get off their lawn, or any of their property.

Now, I live in a beautiful home on a half-acre lot, which I own outright. It is walking distance to the stores, restaurants, the post office and town hall. The neighborhood is very peaceful and quiet. We have phones throughout, televisions, computers, FAX, a cell phone, and yet I cannot cut down a tree, build a fence, dig a pool or put up any building, without prior permission from some bureaucrat from our city.

I can’t build a fire, because we have “no burn” days. I can’t play outside late at night because our noise laws prevent it and heaven help us if I ever fired a gun.

So am I better off? You will have to be the judge.