670 Words RAMONA AND THE THWARTED TIME TRAVELERS On the corner stood the object of my quest—Casa de Estudillo in San Diego’s Old Town State Historic Park. Eager to enter this 19th century hacienda, my husband and I rounded the corner only to discover a sign taped to the door: “Closed for maintenance and to upgrade for ADA access.” How could they do this, I wanted to shriek, not believing 750 road miles were traveled for naught. (The closure was clearly noted on the official California parks website. I had relied on guidebooks and other sites, silly me). So, we altered our path. Photos at least, would soothe our disappointment. My husband hoisted our phone above a whitewashed adobe wall on the side of the building and photographed the courtyard with its empty fountain/wishing well where I had so wanted to complete my pilgrimage and recreate a seminal moment of family history. *** Prior to selling my mother’s house, I excavated a steamer trunk in the basement, discovering inside my grandmother’s 1920 diary recounting her honeymoon trip from Salt Lake City to the California Coast. Reading it, I formed the idea to celebrate their marriage centennial by visiting one of the diary’s most important remaining sights. Flash back to when our journeys really began – with my great-grandmother, an English-born handcart pioneer. In 1862, three years after arriving in the Salt Lake valley, family legend has it that she developed a crush on a young Native American scout, one of many hired by Brigham Young to help navigate native and newcomer cultural divides. The story continues that the scout died of illness or was killed, leaving my adolescent great-grandmother’s unrequited fantasy of living a wild nomadic existence with her handsome brave, secreted away, her life destined for a more rigid path. When Helen Hunt Jackson’s Ramona was published in 1888, it became my great-grandmother’s favorite novel. Not surprisingly, she identified with the titular character, an orphaned half-Scottish, half native girl, raised at a California hacienda. Ramona eventually elopes with a Native American man, Alessandro. The couple struggles to exist, evicted from both tribal and white settlements because of Ramona’s “half-breed” status. Following Allesandro’s death, Ramona finds bittersweet redemption in a second marriage. Flash forward to my grandmother’s 1920 honeymoon diary: “November 22nd. Los Angeles. Walked along the beach and then came home to rest for a while and I began reading aloud the story of Ramona which Lee’s mother made me a present of.* After supper, I would get them together around my chair in the front room of the Nadine Apartments (avoiding the Utah winter, my great-grandmother lived in the same complex). Over time, I read the entire novel and they seemed more than delighted to hear it and it was a very interesting story, because we had seen the marriage place of this Ramona in San Diego.” The diary recounts their journey to Casa Estudillo, a tourist destination due to Jackson’s best selling book, despite the fact that she never disclosed the actual sites used in her novel. Knowing his mother’s fondness for Ramona, and doubtless the legend of the Native American scout, my grandfather escorted his bride to this popular “Ramona’s Marriage Place”. There, like their fictional counterparts, the newlyweds tossed a coin into the storied wishing well, vowing love alone would shield them from life’s unforeseen road blocks and detours. Scheduled to reopen in March, 2020, the Casa, with its gleaming whitewashed walls, remains a historical landmark for some, a romantic testament for others—though now only 1% of visitors actually know about Ramona. Unfortunately, my 2020 quest to continue a family tradition borne of fantasy in 1862, fiction in 1888, and newly wedded bliss in 1920, did not happen – sort of like other journeys where closed doors force us to take different paths. Perhaps next time. *** *I have this fabled copy of Ramona. It is enscribed : “To Fay, from Mrs. Francis Armstrong**, November 17, 1920.” **Francis Armstrong, mayor of Salt Lake City, 1886-1890.