Bull Creek, California

I went to second grade in 1945 at a little logging community called Bull Creek. I have just returned from a visit to the land that once held this thriving community. There was almost nothing there because of two great floods that happened in the mid twentieth century.

TALE OF BULL CREEK. Pronounced by the locals as Bull Krick.

In 1925, my mother and her family packed up their old car and left the state of Wisconsin in hopes of finding better times in California. The journey took them many weeks, stopping at times to work on farms to get enough money for food and gas. At last, they reached northern California and they settled in a small logging community called Bull Creek. Other family members eventually followed from Wisconsin, and while none of them found their fortune, the logging industry provided them with enough money to survive. My great aunt and her husband established the Bull Creek grocery store and rented a few small houses to permanent or temporary residents. Bull Creek’s tiny stream ran along side the store. It was a friendly creek, and in the summer happy children sat on its banks and caught small fish. In the winter, the creek rose high enough so salmon could successfully fight their way up stream to spawn. The locals joyfully claimed part of the migration for fish dinners. It never crossed anyone’s mind that Bull Creek might not last forever.

But to everyone’s astonishment, all of Bull Creek was swallowed by the great floods of 1955 and 1964. Even the graveyard was wiped out. Corpses washed out along with the town and dead people who hadn’t been seen for years floated out with the living. Everyone was amazed at how well preserved the bodies were. People who had not seen each other for years got reacquainted. Of course there were a few bodies that had been buried so long no one who was alive knew who they were.

But in the end it made no difference if the living or the dead passed down that bloated creek. Bull Creek and its people were forever gone.

My visit continued: Driving up the little Bull Creek road the landscaped was so changed I couldn't even guess where the local store or mill used to stand. However, I was very surprised to some upon the Bull Creek Cemetery. Although there were some graves there an inspection of the stones revealed that most of them had been buried after 1964. A large stone had been erected citing the names of the people who washed out in the flood. An even bigger surprise for me was I found the grave of my long lost cousin Arlie 'Bud' Bishop 1918-1980. The grave was wildly decorated including a hound dog toy, a wooden fence and flowers. Although I had not seen him since I was about 10 years old I remember him clearly as a gifted artist, guitar player and singer. He was a whole show that evening. The other interesting thing about him was he spent months at a time up in the hills with his pack of coon hounds. He was definitely the original hippy.