(SEVEN)

The McCallum Ranch - 1898

5

  The offices of Brown and Hadley on Spring Street in Los Angeles smelled like the inside of a badly ventilated cigar factory.  Old Hadley disliked fresh air, not that there was much to be said for the atmosphere outside this Thursday morning—another hot, hazy, February day.  Breathing in the small, glassed-in room was inhibited even more from the fat stogies the geriatric lawyer insisted on smoking, until Harry politely suggested his mother would either have to leave the cubicle or faint.  Hadley got up and opened a window, offering some relief.

  Nineteen year old Pearl, her face tensed in what seemed to be a perpetual frown, her brooding hazel eyes concen­tra­ted most of the time on Harry, sat on one side of the square, rose-varnished table with Emily.  May had arrived by train from Chicago only a week before, taking the Southern Pacific line from Deming, New Mexico, coming in from the south through Indio directly into Seven Palms station.  She sat next to Harry at the table opposite Emily and Pearl, trying to focus on the tiresome details being thrust at them by her brother and the lawyer, thinking, if only Harry weren’t so serious!

  Hadley shuffled back from the window to his chair at the head of the table, perching there like a treed grizzly bear ready to jump, blowing smoke rings.

  Emily primed herself to sign the stack of deeds lying in a neat pile in front of Harry.  Writing was difficult for her.  She believed she was familiar with most of the procedure.  Harry had explained it to her often enough.  But now he insisted on going over everything again.  He wanted his sisters to understand thoroughly the purpose and vital importance of the “partition.”  It was now ten days since the court had made its distribution of John Guthrie’s estate, naming Harry F. McCallum as executor.

  “The court’s decree is so simple it’s not necessary to explain at all,” Hadley growled.  “Just sign the documents and we’ll have done with it.”

  “No,” Harry said, speaking with more force than he’d intended.  He continued quietly, “I want the family to know what they’re signing.”

  “Yes, yes, Harry,” Emily said impatiently, “I think we should know—”

  “And understand as well,” May said.

  “It’s a simple matter.  To put it in a nutshell, we’ve got to protect ourselves against some Simon Legree taking away our property, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen unless we partition our shares to each other into specific lots.  Most importantly, we could lose the ranch, failing as it is, and if my schemes don’t work out.”

  Pearl sighed audibly, fidgeting with the buttons on her high-necked blouse.  Harry grimaced, keeping his eyes down on the table.  He wasn’t going to allow his young sister’s stubborn temper to interfere, not if he could help it.  Didn’t she know this was for good of all?  He was beginning to sweat; his head starting to pound.  Pearl could go to blazes if she refused to appreciate what he and their attorney were trying to accomplish.

  “I still don’t understand why we have to split everything up,” May said softly, quietly flipping through the documents in front of her.

  “Well, let me try to . . . suppose something happens—I mean, suppose I have to borrow money—and it looks like I’m going to have to borrow something to keep things going.  There’s livestock to feed, and the General Store, and I’ve got to have something to live on.  The question is, what do I use for collateral?  I could pledge the Water Company stock but that might prove to be worthless.  We certainly can’t use the Ranch as collateral because no one of us owns it specifically, or any of the other real estate.  So my debts could be satisfied by taking the most valuable property—the Ranch.  But that’s not going to happen, because we’re going to give Mother title to the Ranch and some other property as part of her one-half share in Father’s estate.  Each of us will sign a deed over to Mother for the Ranch and some other land over.  So, Mother will own the Ranch; the rest of us, other parcels.  You got it?  I’m promising you I will never borrow money using the Ranch as collateral.  Who knows,” he grinned at Pearl, making an attempt to draw her in, “some of us may want to build another home on the slope of the mountain one day.  The mountain’s got value, as long as we’ve got control of it.”

  Pearl, still fidgeting, sulked in silence.

  “What Harry’s trying to explain,” Hadley cut in, pulling the soggy stump of his cigar from his mouth, “as it stands now, if the family can’t pay its debts, the entire estate will be in jeopardy because none of you owns anything specifically, no parcels of land in particular.”

  “Partition,” Harry said, “simply means deeding land back and forth to each other to satisfy each of our shares.”

  May leaned forward.  “Yes, but I still don’t understand why we have to partition.  We trust each other, and we have joint ownership—”

  Hadley grunted.  “Got nothin’ to do with trust, young lady.  Expediency!”

  “Of course we trust each other!” Harry said impatiently, sucking in his breath.  “Don’t you understand anything I said?”

  “In the partition,” Hadley interrupted, “the three of you—the three children—will sign over your interest in the Ranch to your mother so she’ll have clear title to it, giving her power of attorney to Harry so he run things.  As Harry has promised, he’ll never encumber the Ranch with liens.  And, just as important, with title to the Ranch, your mother can pass the property back to you three children someday.  The partition is equitable and proper, so let’s get on with it.  Harry and I have worked this all out with maximum protection for Mrs. McCallum and you children.  You’ll find transfer of titles in front of you deeding the McCallum Ranch to Emily McCallum, and also eighty acres in Section Eleven—also to Emily McCallum.”

  “Remember,” Harry explained, wiping his brow, “father bought that land in Section Eleven for Mother before Johnnie died when he thought of extending the Ranch across Main Avenue.  It’s close into town—that big square north of the reser­vation up as far as Chino Canyon but on the other side of East Street.  Then we have four hundred and ninety acres of land in Section Nineteen, farther out in the desert, which Father wanted to keep the Syndicate from developing.”

  Pearl suddenly sat straight.  “What’s the dollar value of all this property—in Section Nineteen?” she asked shrilly.

  Harry smiled.  “Glad you’re interested, Pearl.  Twenty-five dollars an acre, appraised value, for both Sections Eleven and Nineteen—”

  “So both Sections Eleven and Nineteen have the same value,” Pearl gloated.

  “You haven’t caught me in a lie, Pearl—”

  “Pearl, hush up!” Emily said, “let your brother get on with it!”

  “Yes, Sections Eleven and Nineteen do have the same value,” Harry continued sullenly, “and we have a responsibility to Father who bought the Section Eleven land for Mother.  Anyway, Pearl, what’s the difference?  Whatever belongs to Mother belongs to all of us.”

  “We know that,” May said.

  “The McCallum Ranch is worth two hundred dollars an acre, in case you want to know that too, Pearl,” Harry said, “but like I tried to explain, what’s the difference?”  He held his breath, interrupting himself with a cough. “Section Nineteen will be divided among all of us, one hundred and eighty acres each to May and Pearl; one hundred and fifty acres to me, and eighty acres to Mother.  It should be understood we’ll use this land if we have to—I mean, sell it, or put liens on it, to keep the Ranch going.”

  “Why did Father buy that land in Section 19?” May asked.  “Isn’t that out there the other side of Indian land where the gully runs?”

  “I remember,” Pearl said.  “It’s where the water from Tahquitz runs down in flash floods.”

  “That’s right, Pearl,” Harry said.  “Father bought Section 19 to keep his old Syndicate partners from bringing industry in—cement factories and the like.  The section would’ve been perfect for their purposes—the only land close to the village that is.  Nobody will ever want to live there.  You know how Father fought with them.  They wanted to turn Palm Springs into factories and God knows what—”

  “Yes, yes,” Hadley interrupted.  “Let’s get finished with this.”

  “First let me explain the Syndicate property,” Harry said.  “I’m taking title to all of it.  That is, you’ll be cross-deeding this land to me as part of my one-sixth share.  In case you want to know, Pearl, the property is worthless, in a sense, because I can’t do a thing with it—can’t sell it or borrow against because it was never divided among father’s partners.  Until it is, clear title can’t be given to anyone, got that?”

  “There are other minor partitions for you to sign,” Hadley said, “a Possessory claim, and George Hayman has an option on ten acres of the Section Eleven property. . . . “

  The partition of February 3, 1898 gave title to the McCallum Ranch to Emily McCallum, along with the family’s land in Sections 11, and a portion of Section 19.  None of the land partitioned to Emily, May and Pearl was Syndicate property, which now belonged to Harry—his father’s undivided 27.48 percent interest.

  But one additional matter had to be settled.  Who would control the Palm Valley Water Company stock?

  Emily had anticipated the problem.  About half-way through the shuffling of papers and scratching signatures, she paused and said, “Mr. Hadley has suggested I give you my power of attorney, Harry, so can manage things.  Won’t you need me to sign over documents—other matters?”

  “Your Power of Attorney will take care of that,” Harry said.  “I must have your majority interest in the Water Company if I’m to run things and be President.”

  “Will  you need my Power of Attorney?” May asked.

  “No, only from Mother for now.  Because of her Water Company stock, primarily, to run the corporation.”

  The following day, February 4, 1898, Harry took his mothers’ Power of Attorney to a notary public:

  I, Emily McCallum . . . constitute and appoint Harry F. McCallum . . . my true and lawful attorney for me . . . and for my use and benefit, in all matters pertaining to my property, both real and personal, stocks, bonds, and other securities and in connection therewith and in control thereof . . .

  He did not, however, immediately record the document with the County,  nor did he use it against his mother’s land until almost three years after the family’s 1898 partition in a transaction of a loan from the M.W. Stewart Company, a ranch supply house in Los Angeles—a transaction which the next generation of McCallums would know simply as, “Emily’s grocery bill” even though Emily probably knew nothing about the loan at the time it was made.

  The cross-deed partitioning of property in John Guthrie’s estate, February 1898 firmly established a   Family Trust for the benefit of future McCallum genera­tions.

This concludes A Family Trust.  Next:  A Trust in Crisis