From Mine to Natural Reserve: ROHO records the transition
Californians who witnessed the history of the modern-day McLaughlin gold mine have a few stories about how mining has changed since the Gold Rush. For starters, no fewer than 327 permits were required before mining could begin in 1985.
Sylvia McLaughlin, the celebrated Bay Area environmentalist, saw the stack of permits while representing her late husband Donald, the geologist after whom the mine was named. "It was wheeled in on a dolly, and it was at least four feet high," she says.
Dennis Goldstein, holding a gold bar produced at the McLaughlin mine, found the site a moonscape. |
To put it another way, in the early 1980s it was not easy to get approval for an open-pit mine at the confluence of Napa, Lake, and Yolo counties, just 70 miles north of San Francisco Bay and 20 miles from the vineyards of the Napa Valley. But in due time permits arrived from state and federal agencies and myriad local governments. What followed—fifteen years of mining, reclamation, and reuse— was an extraordinary chapter of California history, and Bancroft's Regional Oral History Office was there to record it.
Interviewer Eleanor Swent and her advisers conceived a community oral history of the McLaughlin mine that would capture the entire project. "It's unusual, maybe even unique, to document a mining operation from start to finish while it's going on," Swent says.
This old bucket hauled quicksilver from the mercury mine. |
When interviews conclude later this year, Bancroft will have at least 12 volumes of oral histories—recollections from individual geologists and officials as well as from ranchers and merchants, county planners and mayors, newspaper editors and school superintendents.
The McLaughlin mine lies at the center of the historic Knoxville Mining District, where dozens of mines produced mercury for more than a century. McLaughlin now inhabits the site of the former Manhattan mercury mine, which dates from 1862.
John and Gretchen Ceteras spearheaded the movement to turn the toxic area into a natural reserve. |
Though miners knew in the 1800s that some gold existed in the region, they had little interest in it. Instead of the sizable gold nuggets found in the Mother Lode, the Knoxville District held only spidery deposits formed when hydrothermal activity forced hot minerals into the surrounding rock. In short, the gold was hard to get and there wasn't much of it.
Changes in mining processes now allow retrieval of minerals that were once too fine to isolate. Upon discovering significant gold resources at the old Manhattan mine in 1978, the Homestake Mining Co. eagerly pursued the prospect.
The McLaughlin mine now inhabits the site of the former Manhattan mercury mine (1862). |
"The price of gold was high," Homestake executive William Humphrey told Swent. "And of course, when the prices are high, just human nature, a man always thinks they're going to stay high and get better."
From the outset the new mine brought forth a community story filled with disparate views and priorities. For one thing, the land at the proposed site was in dire straits.
"It was pretty nearly a moonscape," said corporate lawyer Dennis Goldstein. "The vegetation had been stripped off. There were big cuts and gouges and trenches—it really was among the most devastated terrain I had ever seen."
Some individuals, concerned about the health effects of disturbing contaminated land, discouraged their counties from going along. But Homestake's momentum was hard to slow. "I think it was divide and conquer," said John Ceteras, a Yolo County organic farmer.
Other interviews emphasized the spirit of cooperation. "I think it worked out very well," Napa County planner James Hickey told Swent. "[The project] demonstrated that a large number of diverse governmental agencies can work together."
The involvement of many people at the start, including Ceteras and Hickey, spawned a certain mutual investment in the outcome. The company's mining scheme took shape alongside an innovative plan for reclamation and later conversion to protected public use.
As the McLaughlin site gave up its three million ounces of gold, the concurrent environmental efforts brought more than a dozen awards and commendations from such groups as the Sierra Club and the Soil Conservation Society of America. The project also lent economic vitality to one of California's most depressed areas.
Meanwhile, the company cleaned up three abandoned mercury mines on the 11,000-acre site. Officials also curtailed livestock grazing and reclaimed vast acreage in preparation for the moment when part of the site would transfer to community use.
When the mine closes in 2002, UC Davis will administer the reserve. Sylvia McLaughlin, pictured here with Professor Susan Harrison, is proud that it will bear her name. |
When that moment came in 1992, the University of California established the Donald and Sylvia McLaughlin Natural Reserve. Homestake still owns the land, but after 2002, when the mine closes, UC Davis will administer the 7,050-acre parcel as part of the University's natural reserve system, a network of protected California lands that serve as outdoor classrooms and laboratories.
Located at the headwaters of Putah and Cache Creeks, the McLaughlin reserve protects unusual serpentine habitats—as well as typical Coast Range woodlands, grasslands, and chaparral—for research and teaching purposes. Already the reserve has hosted UC Davis courses in the sciences and humanities—population biology and environmental horticulture students roam the oak woodlands alongside creative writers. When the transition is complete, the McLaughlin reserve will be one of the largest in the system and will form the heart of a 300,000-acre region of cooperative land stewardship.
Sylvia McLaughlin takes pride in the natural reserve that bears her name. "It's serving as a model for how used-up mines can have a second life," she says.
Professor Susan Harrison, who directs the UC Davis natural reserve system, predicts the oral histories will prove as valuable as museums full of art or archaeological finds. "In some ways they are more valuable," she says, "because they record the interconnected web of ordinary human lives."
Last fall Harrison invited Eleanor Swent to tell students about her interviews directly, and their enthusiasm was unmistakable. "Most of the students are ecologists, so they are not necessarily people who like or appreciate mining. One effect of listening to Eleanor was to deepen our sense of the human stories that make up mining, just like any other human activity."
Through the efforts of Swent and her advisers, Bancroft is participating in the community it serves. In recording the oral history of the McLaughlin mine, hundreds of questions have been asked and answered for the future use of all, scholars and students alike.
Laura McCreery directs the
Library School Oral History Series
for the Regional Oral History Office.
Copyright 2000 Laura McCreery.
Volume 116
Spring 2000
Table of Contents
The Silent Multitude of Voices in the Reading Room
From the Director: Bancroft Goes Digital
Highlights from Bancroft's Web Resources
Paramount Theatre Archives at The Bancroft Library
Three Monuments in the History of Science Arrive at Bancroft
Ancient Lives: The Tebtunis Papyri in Context
From Mine to Natural Reserve: ROHO records the transition
Chemistry Symposium in Honor of Kenneth S. Pitzer Held January 9 to 13, 2000: Oral History Presented
