Volume 005-3 - April 1951 (3 pages)

April, 1951 Vol. 5, No. 3 Nevada City’s Pioneer Doctor By MR. RINALDO J. RONCHI Folsom, California Dr. Robert Menzo Hunt was an exceptionally fine character. He was about five feet ten in height, weighed around 200 pounds, a good dresser, walked with a quick step, a thorough gentleman, honest, charitable, a true friend, physically strong, a very keen mind, and civic minded. He loved a good joke and his fellow man. I shall divide this narrative into two parts. One part being what he told me, and the other part in what I learned from being associated with him. Dr. Hunt was born in Utica, Herkimer county, N. Y., in 1828, His father was a Baptist minister. He attended the common schools and later worked in a machine shop, but did not learn the trade. He also worked at surveying for several years but did not finish the course. _. ; He began the study of medicine in 1847 at Utica, N. Y. He received degrees from three different colleges in N. Y. Upon receiving his diploma he made up his mind to go west to California, as the country was wild with excitement over the wonderful reports of the gold found there. He came by way of the Isthmus Panama. ; On arriving in San Francisco he worked his way to Sacramento and from there the best way he could to Nevada City—then known as Caldwell’s Upper Store, arriving in 1850. For about two years he really roughed it. Coming from a refined home where he had everything that one could wish for, he found it tough. Food was scarce and prices were high. He ate so much deer meat that he never liked it afterwards. Trout was plentiful and a welcome change in the diet. Dr. Hunt mined in many gulches— Bullard’s Bar, Shady Creek, Gold Flat and Selby Flat being among the most that he mined. Selby Flat was his favorite place. He found it very rich there. Men were making $100 per day and more, and when they took out less the miners looked for new diggins. The claims were very small and your shovel and pick left there, proved ownership. If you missed four days, the claim was subject to new ownership. At that time there were a thousand men working all the way from back of the Sugar Loaf to the South Yuba river. These men were sincere and hard working—bent on making their stake, and then back to their homes to enjoy the fruits of their hardship. Many were mowed down by disease or accidents. There was also plenty of roughness and there was no delay in dishing out justice. It was at this time that necessity compelled Dr. Hunt to drive a bull team to a saw mill to bring some badly needed lumber to make sluice boxes—and from that he was called a “bull puncher” and many a smart Aleck received a bloody nose for his smartness and the “bull puncher” was soon forgotten. He made good money at mining and thoroughly enjoyed the life, but there was need for a doctor, and as that was his chosen profession he opened an office on Commercial Street, and his life’s work started in earnest. From then on he no longer was his own master. Accidents were many and there was a lot of sickness that kept him going night and day—only a man of great fortitude could stand the strain. There were no good roads. If he could not get there on wheels, he would go on horse or mule back, and if necessary, he would walk—but he got there! One morning while on a call out Rock Creek way on horseback, he heard a call for help. He said, “Who is there?” The answer came, “I am Francis J. Dunn, and if I do say it myself, I am the best lawyer in this part of the state.” Francis was full of squirrel whiskey and the doctor pulled him out of the mud. While driving out across the Yuba River with him, on many occasion I have been pointed the place where Steve Venard killed the four stage bandits. The doctor was called there and viewed the bodies, and his version as to what happened does not jibe with the oft told story. He liked O. P. Stedger of North San Juan and would tell about some of his wonderful writings in his San Juan Journal. He also was very fond of Michael Phelan of Shady Creek and would always refer to him as “Michael Shady” of Phelan Creek. In 1859 he was made County Physician, which position he ably filled up to the time of his death. The first County Hospital was located on Nevada Street where Mrs. Percy Carr’s home is located. It was a small affair and would only house a few patients. The following year in 1860, the county purchased a piece of ground and the County Hospital’s first buildings were built where the Hospital now stands. During all this time the doctor was a very busy man and were it not for his rugged constitution, he could not have kept up the pace. He could do without food or sleep longer than anyone that I have ever met. He amassed a goodsized fortune and bought a large piece of ground that extended from where he built his home to Deer Creek back of the County Hospital. He sold to Felix Gillet the ground where the Barren Hill Nursery = ene and the rest of the ground was used to supply the. hospital with food. PPly P In the seventies, the doctor married Mrs. Jennie Welsh, a very attractive widow, with two children—Henry and Viroqua. He built a very modern brick house where Mr. Merritt Rector now lives, but after a few years he tore it down, claiming that dampness caused by the bricks gave them all rheumatism. He then built the house that now stands there. I first knew him in the nineties when he waited on my father who had Typhoid Fever and from which disease, he died. About 1893 I went to work for him. I was a green, country boy and for the first three years, I found him a hard master and were it not for necessity I would have gone back to Mother in Willow Valley. After the first three years, we got to know each other better and became friends. We understood each other and life was very pleasant. My work was to take care of his team and drive him on his long trips, particularly at ‘night. I also had charge of the Hospital Ranch where he had men employed. From the time the Hospital was started, (it was also called the “Poor House”), the doctor, at his own expense, furnished everything that was in the Hospital, and the county furnished the bare buildings. During all the time that I was with him, he had a contract with the county to maintain each patient with clothes, food, heat, tobacco, light and medicine for the sum of 40 cents per day for each individual. The doctor received as his salary as County Physician $150 per month. The patients were well cared for with good service and good food. The only way he could carry out his contract was by having his ranch where he raised all his vegetables, milk, and hay for his cattle. He raised about fifty hogs each year, which were killed and consumed on the premises. He bought prime steers and slaughtered them there, which gave the very best of meat at a reasonable price. He had to do a lot of thinking in order to carry out his contract. He had a dispensary which was stocked with a good supply of drugs. He also had an operating room where most any operation could be performed. The doctor liked the hospital and did a lot of work there with his patients. One winter there were 140 inmates which taxed the capacity of the place and the year following a big addition was built which sufficed up to the present structure. A county doctor’s life is an extremely hard one—and at no time can he call a moment his own. We would come home from a long, hard trip. He would be dead tired. The first thing for him would be a warm bath, something to eat and then lie down. Invariably some one would send for him and away we were off again. One evening along about ten o'clock, he was sent out to Blue Tent to wait on Mrs. Pete Arbogast. There was snow on the ground and it was frozen and the going was hard. The horse’s feet were bleeding from the ice on the road. On arriving I blanketed the horses and went into the kitchen and curled up by the stove to await the new arrival, which came along about 3 a.m. We got home about 8 a.m. and then the doctor had a hard day’s work taking care of his home practice. Many times out in the sticks, the house would be a two room affair. I would cover the horses, and curl up on the seat and wait, hoping it would not be too long. Several times the doctor, being alone, would ask me to administer the anesthetic. A regular baby case out in the country was $20 and $15 close to home. One rainy, Sunday afternoon, I drove him out toward Rock Creek somewhere between the Blue Tent road and the Arbogast ranch. A family was traveling through with a wagon and two horses. There was the father, mother and three boys. The mother was taken sick. All that they had for cover were a few ragged blankets over the wagon. The doctor asked me to take the kids out of the way, and in a very short time, the new baby arrived. It was a pathetic scene for a new arrival. The doctor hardly spoke a word all the way home. He said. “I will soon want you to go out there again with some stuff for that family, as I am not. going to see that woman and baby want for anything. In a short time I was on the way with a tent, food, linen, blanket and things necessary for both patients. In a few days they were gone and the doctor treasured a letter from that woman more than

April, 1951 Vol. 5, No. 3 Nevada City’s Pioneer Doctor By MR. RINALDO J. RONCHI Folsom, California Dr. Robert Menzo Hunt was an exceptionally fine character. He was about five feet ten in height, weighed around 200 pounds, a good dresser, walked with a quick step, a thorough gentleman, honest, charitable, a true friend, physically strong, a very keen mind, and civic minded. He loved a good joke and his fellow man. I shall divide this narrative into two parts. One part being what he told me, and the other part in what I learned from being associated with him. Dr. Hunt was born in Utica, Herkimer county, N. Y., in 1828, His father was a Baptist minister. He attended the common schools and later worked in a machine shop, but did not learn the trade. He also worked at surveying for several years but did not finish the course. _. ; He began the study of medicine in 1847 at Utica, N. Y. He received degrees from three different colleges in N. Y. Upon receiving his diploma he made up his mind to go west to California, as the country was wild with excitement over the wonderful reports of the gold found there. He came by way of the Isthmus Panama. ; On arriving in San Francisco he worked his way to Sacramento and from there the best way he could to Nevada City—then known as Caldwell’s Upper Store, arriving in 1850. For about two years he really roughed it. Coming from a refined home where he had everything that one could wish for, he found it tough. Food was scarce and prices were high. He ate so much deer meat that he never liked it afterwards. Trout was plentiful and a welcome change in the diet. Dr. Hunt mined in many gulches— Bullard’s Bar, Shady Creek, Gold Flat and Selby Flat being among the most that he mined. Selby Flat was his favorite place. He found it very rich there. Men were making $100 per day and more, and when they took out less the miners looked for new diggins. The claims were very small and your shovel and pick left there, proved ownership. If you missed four days, the claim was subject to new ownership. At that time there were a thousand men working all the way from back of the Sugar Loaf to the South Yuba river. These men were sincere and hard working—bent on making their stake, and then back to their homes to enjoy the fruits of their hardship. Many were mowed down by disease or accidents. There was also plenty of roughness and there was no delay in dishing out justice. It was at this time that necessity compelled Dr. Hunt to drive a bull team to a saw mill to bring some badly needed lumber to make sluice boxes—and from that he was called a “bull puncher” and many a smart Aleck received a bloody nose for his smartness and the “bull puncher” was soon forgotten. He made good money at mining and thoroughly enjoyed the life, but there was need for a doctor, and as that was his chosen profession he opened an office on Commercial Street, and his life’s work started in earnest. From then on he no longer was his own master. Accidents were many and there was a lot of sickness that kept him going night and day—only a man of great fortitude could stand the strain. There were no good roads. If he could not get there on wheels, he would go on horse or mule back, and if necessary, he would walk—but he got there! One morning while on a call out Rock Creek way on horseback, he heard a call for help. He said, “Who is there?” The answer came, “I am Francis J. Dunn, and if I do say it myself, I am the best lawyer in this part of the state.” Francis was full of squirrel whiskey and the doctor pulled him out of the mud. While driving out across the Yuba River with him, on many occasion I have been pointed the place where Steve Venard killed the four stage bandits. The doctor was called there and viewed the bodies, and his version as to what happened does not jibe with the oft told story. He liked O. P. Stedger of North San Juan and would tell about some of his wonderful writings in his San Juan Journal. He also was very fond of Michael Phelan of Shady Creek and would always refer to him as “Michael Shady” of Phelan Creek. In 1859 he was made County Physician, which position he ably filled up to the time of his death. The first County Hospital was located on Nevada Street where Mrs. Percy Carr’s home is located. It was a small affair and would only house a few patients. The following year in 1860, the county purchased a piece of ground and the County Hospital’s first buildings were built where the Hospital now stands. During all this time the doctor was a very busy man and were it not for his

rugged constitution, he could not have kept up the pace. He could do without food or sleep longer than anyone that I have ever met. He amassed a goodsized fortune and bought a large piece of ground that extended from where he built his home to Deer Creek back of the County Hospital. He sold to Felix Gillet the ground where the Barren Hill Nursery = ene and the rest of the ground was used to supply the. hospital with food. PPly P In the seventies, the doctor married Mrs. Jennie Welsh, a very attractive widow, with two children—Henry and Viroqua. He built a very modern brick house where Mr. Merritt Rector now lives, but after a few years he tore it down, claiming that dampness caused by the bricks gave them all rheumatism. He then built the house that now stands there. I first knew him in the nineties when he waited on my father who had Typhoid Fever and from which disease, he died. About 1893 I went to work for him. I was a green, country boy and for the first three years, I found him a hard master and were it not for necessity I would have gone back to Mother in Willow Valley. After the first three years, we got to know each other better and became friends. We understood each other and life was very pleasant. My work was to take care of his team and drive him on his long trips, particularly at ‘night. I also had charge of the Hospital Ranch where he had men employed. From the time the Hospital was started, (it was also called the “Poor House”), the doctor, at his own expense, furnished everything that was in the Hospital, and the county furnished the bare buildings. During all the time that I was with him, he had a contract with the county to maintain each patient with clothes, food, heat, tobacco, light and medicine for the sum of 40 cents per day for each individual. The doctor received as his salary as County Physician $150 per month. The patients were well cared for with good service and good food. The only way he could carry out his contract was by having his ranch where he raised all his vegetables, milk, and hay for his cattle. He raised about fifty hogs each year, which were killed and consumed on the premises. He bought prime steers and slaughtered them there, which gave the very best of meat at a reasonable price. He had to do a lot of thinking in order to carry out his contract. He had a dispensary which was stocked with a good supply of drugs. He also had an operating room where most any operation could be performed. The doctor liked the hospital and did a lot of work there with his patients. One winter there were 140 inmates which taxed the capacity of the place and the year following a big addition was built which sufficed up to the present structure. A county doctor’s life is an extremely hard one—and at no time can he call a moment his own. We would come home from a long, hard trip. He would be dead tired. The first thing for him would be a warm bath, something to eat and then lie down. Invariably some one would send for him and away we were off again. One evening along about ten o'clock, he was sent out to Blue Tent to wait on Mrs. Pete Arbogast. There was snow on the ground and it was frozen and the going was hard. The horse’s feet were bleeding from the ice on the road. On arriving I blanketed the horses and went into the kitchen and curled up by the stove to await the new arrival, which came along about 3 a.m. We got home about 8 a.m. and then the doctor had a hard day’s work taking care of his home practice. Many times out in the sticks, the house would be a two room affair. I would cover the horses, and curl up on the seat and wait, hoping it would not be too long. Several times the doctor, being alone, would ask me to administer the anesthetic. A regular baby case out in the country was $20 and $15 close to home. One rainy, Sunday afternoon, I drove him out toward Rock Creek somewhere between the Blue Tent road and the Arbogast ranch. A family was traveling through with a wagon and two horses. There was the father, mother and three boys. The mother was taken sick. All that they had for cover were a few ragged blankets over the wagon. The doctor asked me to take the kids out of the way, and in a very short time, the new baby arrived. It was a pathetic scene for a new arrival. The doctor hardly spoke a word all the way home. He said. “I will soon want you to go out there again with some stuff for that family, as I am not. going to see that woman and baby want for anything. In a short time I was on the way with a tent, food, linen, blanket and things necessary for both patients. In a few days they were gone and the doctor treasured a letter from that woman more than