April 22 - Sunday "You put a spell on me"

If you say: "I'm going to San Juan Bautista" to a group of native Californians, about 80 percent won't know what you are talking about. That is understandable when you consider the town has remained, to this day, quite like it was 150 years ago. Most people know the El Camino Real, the road that once connected north and south California through a network of Franciscan missions. Just off that course, and the main highway, is the little town named for the mission that was established there in the 1700's.

Earthbound Farm

Our drive from Berkeley took us past Earthbound Farms Organics and miles of expansive fields of baby lettuce growing in deep brown soil. One can tell at a glance that the valley here is rich and productive. I remember reading in 1800's travelogues that the rolling hills between Santa Clara and San Juan Bautista were always filled with wild flowers in the spring. Although it wasn't possible to see the valley the way it must have been for our great grandparents, it was surely possible to imagine.


When we hit the little town of Gilroy, famous for its garlic festival, we had no idea we would get sidetracked there for hours. It was time for lunch, but the antique stores kept calling out to us. Once inside we were entertained by shopkeepers of many types. We even heard the story of a famous Native American, "cigar store Indian" that once stood in the doorway of a store in San Juan. Outside on the sidewalk speakers on the main street piped Mexican music, which we discovered works on the body in two ways: a hypnotic effect, and something similar to having too much caffeine.

We made our way to the local Taquería to explore some Mexican cuisine. Deb ordered something from the menu that was all in Spanish, but admitted she wasn't sure what we were going to get. It turned out to be three tacos with three kinds of meat and a drink that was white, fruity, and very sweet. After our meal we wandered the little convenience store, ending up in the potions aisle. Here Deb took a few pictures of the spiritual bath and floor wash she had never seen before. They had potions for bringing love, money or luck your way or any other situation you may have that is bothering you. An older Latino gentleman offered a bottle for her to consider. His gesture soon became the best explanation for the day--

Old Man: Maybe you should consider this.

Deb: Oh, “Black Chicken.” What is this one for?

Old man: It's for spells. To prevent evil spells.

Deb: Oh thank you, I’m OK (smiling and putting it back).

Do you think I should be concerned about that?

Old man: Could be.

We got back on the road not long after that, but first we had to rescue Deb's reading glasses which she had left on the counter at one of the antique stores. I also decided to buy a small knife there to replace the one I usually carry. Our actual destination was only 5 minutes down the road and we were hit with a dilemma as soon as we got there- the historic buildings we had come to see were open to the public on Sundays, but they were closing in 30 minutes!

If Gilroy had put a spell on us, San Juan Bautista made us fall in love with her. The town is situated between verdant hills, far enough away to seem like mountains, close enough to feel like encircling arms. With only about five crossroads, the town is situated on a small plateau, overlooking a backyard valley that stretches out in three directions. At one time that open land was filled with cattle and vaqueros- the Mexican cowboys who worked for the Mission San Juan Bautista. Now it is acres and acres of produce. The natives of the area at that time were the Mutsun Indians, many of them were loyal coverts to the Catholic religion during the mission period. A tiny graveyard behind the church tells their story.

Native American graveyard behind San Juan Bautista Mission

It was within this culture that our great great grandmother settled and raised her family in the 1850's. If America was a melting pot, California towns were the place where the individual molecules of different cultures rubbed together. San Juan Bautista was a bustling town in those days and there were establishments run by native-born French, Italians, Germans, Swedes, Chinese, and Irish. The O'Flinn family (Anna would later take the name "Flynn") lived in the home that is now known as the Castro-Breen Adobe. In her time the house was owned by Patrick Breen, a member of the ill-fated Donner party that had been reduced to cannibalism during a harsh winter crossing. 

The story goes that when the Breen family arrived from their ordeal in 1849 young Patrick heard about the strike of gold at Sutter's mill and promptly went there to see what he could find. When he turned up a nugget worth $10,000 he decided to stop mining and go back to San Juan to buy the best house in town for his mother. The former owner- Don Jose Maria Castro, a Mexican official, was probably in a mood to sell, since California was rapidly going over to the American side and soon would be the country's 31st state.


The Donner story was very well known in those days and it put people off, so Patrick ended up moving his family to a house on the outskirts of town and hiring Mrs. O'Flinn, Anna's mother, to manage the adobe as a boarding home. She lived there until her death in 1909, but there is no reference to her part in the history of the house in any of the park pamphlets.

The Castro-Breen Adobe

Today the adobe is preserved in it's 1880's condition as part of California’s San Juan Bautista State Historic Park along with several other buildings, most notable the "Zennetta House" and the "Plaza Hotel." In the short time we had, Deb and I scouted out the building's secrets, finding all its coves and window views. I took pleasure in climbing the narrow staircase, as it was most likely place that Anna's room would have been, and looking out from second story patio overlooking the plaza. The rooms were laid out with furniture and personal items, as well as mannequins (is that Deb and Nancy?) dressed in period clothes.

View of the Mission plaza from the second story veranda

There is also a carriage house and blacksmith’s shop, each one in the exact locations they had been when our great grandfather Solomon Lazar courted Anna Flynn. We have to thank the generous attendant of the park for letting us roam the grounds past closing time. We appreciate that she allowed us a little extra time since the park was to be closed on Monday. After wandering through all the buildings we set our sights on finding our next hotel and got a good deal on a night in town. 


We enjoyed our stay at The Posadade San Juan for the ambiance of Spanish style, the hallway arboretum, and because it was right in town. That night we shared some fantastic paella at Matxain Etxea Basque Restaurant with enough left over for lunch the next day. We planned to take the morning to check out the mission buildings and grounds before setting out. 

The next leg of our trip had me a little worried, but I didn't tell Deb about it. I had heard chilling stories about the drive over Pacheco Pass. They say it has some surprising blind turns, but we planned to go over in daylight, so I figured we'd be fine. After that we will be looking for a river crossing that was once a major thoroughfare. I wasn't sure whether any part of it remained. The old town had been named "Firebaugh's Ferry" but it didn't exist anymore. Finding that town would mean finding Solomon Lazar's jumping off point, the place where his life really began in America..