Someone told me once that he thought the term “at-risk teenagers” was a tautology, a self-evident truth that needed no elaboration.
Madera County’s Green School was like so many other one-room schoolhouses that dotted the landscape in the 19th century.
Every time I drive past the old Borden Chinese cemetery on Avenue 12, I think of Man Wah Chan. He was buried there in 1890, but it took a while for his dust to settle peacefully.
As Maderans neared the end of the 1920s, they were full of optimism.
“Burned to death in his restaurant which was entirely destroyed by fire.” So reads the death certificate of Sing Wah.
Somewhere out near Buchanan Dam lie the remains of Louis Roberti.
Evening had come, supper was done, and it was time to turn in. W.B. Thurman and his wife, Georgia went upstairs to their bedroom in their house on North C Street.