By Ross Eric Gibson

Katherine C. Imus was enrolled in Georgiana Bruce Kirby’s semi-public school for girls in 1855, where she wrote a class essay. But it was not your average “what I did last summer” composition, but rather a detailed eyewitness saga of crossing the continent with the Imus Family. (Riptide, 12/21/1950). The daughter of Charles A. Imus, she became Mrs. Katherine Hunter. Meanwhile Helen Rice (daughter of Philip D. Rice) was on the same adventure, later married Daniel M. McLaughlin and related her story to a report. (L.A. Times, 9/6/1908).

That literary flare was passed down to their ancestor Traci Bliss, who has collected the little-known Imus family history in her book about local pioneers, “Evergreen Cemetery of Santa Cruz.” Traci is the 3rd great-granddaughter of Lucy Imus Rice, whose vision for Evergreen Cemetery was to be a final resting place welcoming to all.

But before we get to the experiences of Katherine and Helen, we start with the brothers Hiram Imus Jr. and Charles, joining Henry Rice to settle in a 20-mile radius around Galena, Illinois, in 1830 (Frontier Gazette, Spring 1958). But in 1832 they were driven back to Galena by an alliance of tribes, the Sauk, Meskwaki and Kickapoo, led by Chief Black Hawk, who felt a U.S. treaty and land purchase was wrong. But Black Hawk flew the British flag suggesting other motivations, so the U.S. military allied in 1832 with the Menominee and Dakota tribes to oppose Black Hawk’s forces. Capt. Charles Imus and Philip D. Rice fought alongside a young Abraham Lincoln, in a rebellion lasting three months. With Indigenous fighters on both sides, combatants had to understand their friends and foes, resulting after the war in unexpected Indigenous friendships, even with former foes.

In 1845, Lansford Hastings wrote a book called “The Emigrants’ Guide to Oregon and California,” a manual for do-it-yourselfers. The 45-year-old bachelor Capt. Charles Imus joined his teenage nephew Charlie to emigrate, using his skill with Native Americans to guide the wagon train, and avoid conflicts, such as near Fort Laramie. The wagon train hired Caleb Greenwood for his knowledge of the area. At Green River, Wyoming, they met up with a larger wagon train, hoping for safety in numbers. James Reed said he felt they could reduce the journey by a month using a shortcut. Greenwood advised against taking a route no wagon train had gone before, but Reed’s party was determined, because it was in their guidebook. So the two wagon trains parted ways. When the Imus Party reached Fort Hall, Greenwood introduced them to Chief Truckee, their Northern Paiute guide over the Sierra Nevada. The pioneers found the dramatic mountain passes intimidating, but Truckee never steered them wrong, and he became close friends with Capt. Charles Imus.

Then an urgent message arrived from Sacramento. The Mexican government at Monterey issued orders that all illegal foreign immigrants who had not been invited into the province, would be expelled from California, and their real estate holdings forfeited. Instead of solving the problem, it made the foreigners launch the Bear Flag Revolt in 1846, to break away from Mexico and form an independent nation. Upon arriving in Sacramento in September, the single men of the wagon train, including Charles and Charlie Imus, joined the California Battalion under Gen. John C. Fremont. The revolt lasted 25 days.

As to Reed’s wagon train, better known as the Donner Party: word they were snowbound without food arrived in Sacramento about late November 1846. The first rescue party didn’t reach the Donner Party until Feb. 19, 1847, with 45 of the 87 members dead, and some having resorted to cannibalism. Historian Bernard DeVoto described Lansford Hastings as “a smart young man who wrote a guidebook … without knowing what he was talking about.” Lansford’s only shortcut was naming a new route without testing it. The Reeds were not cannibals and later settled in Santa Cruz.

After the war, Charles and Charlie became cowboys, rounding up wild horses to sell at a place halfway between Stockton and Modesto. Then in January 1848, the California gold discovery was announced, and the Imus boys were drawn away by dreams of riches. Giddy letters back east may have exaggerated the virtues of the state, of year-round springtime in a garden landscape, where instead of shoveling snow, you can shovel gold! But the reality was, the Imus family hated gold mining drudgery. So they returned to their job to sell riding horses and beef to the miners. Charles and Charlie invested in Santa Cruz real estate, owning a major portion of the downtown and the Potrero (Harvey West/Costco area).

Left behind

In the spring of 1849, the magic name of California was bewitching everyone’s imagination, a paradise so complete, few ever returned. Katherine C. Imus and Helen Rice were two of the children in the 23-member blended Imus and Rice families set to depart. The expected half-year crossing was worth enduring to keep in touch with your favorite relatives and no longer suffer the harsh Illinois winters. Hiram Imus Sr. was nearly 80, and his wife 73, yet nothing could stop them. And George Inskeep was practically an adopted son, so the bonds of friendship were very strong.

Their departure from Galena, Illinois, was one of celebration, even among the goodbyes and tears, while children acted as if they were going to the circus. On the trail, everyone grew accustomed to a new wayfaring lifestyle, making even the old feel young again. The springtime was glorious, especially for their cattle and horses fattening on the bounty of the prairie, and pioneers dined around a campfire before a round of news, tall tales and songs were shared. They reached the Platte River (east border of Nebraska), and had settled in for the night, when they heard a strange sound, like a rockslide. It grew louder and louder, then suddenly there burst forth a stampeding buffalo herd. It tore through the cattle corral, making such chaos, the cattle all ran away. The Imus-Rice party spent days searching for their herd, to no avail.

The wagon train of 10 wagons and 20 men, was moved to Council Bluffs, where they waited for other wagons to join them, providing better protection in numbers. Without their cattle, for pulling wagons and meat, they couldn’t go forward or backward. So they killed a few buffalo and dried the meat as jerky. In foraging, they found a new foot-high bush of red cherries, which they dubbed the “ground cherry.” (Today called a cherry tomato). There were even natural outcroppings of “saleratus” (baking soda). Then a couple of weeks after losing their cattle, a Mormon wagon train showed up. They’d found them 100 miles away and put them in the yoke to spare their own cattle, so the Imus cattle were tired and emaciated.

Before reaching the Salt Lake, they entered a slot in the wall of the canyon bluff, forming a narrow stone passage the wagon train could fit through. At times the sky was reduced to a slit, and sound behaved strangely in that narrow gorge. Katherine was sure she could hear another wagon train in the distance. First one heard the crack of the whip, then the loud “HALLOO” to the oxen, then the sharp crack of a gun fired at some bird, then the men’s voices mingled in conversation. It was not just an echo, but an echo that re-echoed the previous sound in addition to the new ones. Soon the sound grew excruciatingly loud, almost deafening as it reverberated into cacophony. At last, the wagon train arrived at Salt Lake, where they rested. Other small wagon trains had returned to this point, for fear of going on. Scouts for Indigenous tribes were checking out the pioneers suspiciously.

But things had changed for the Imus-Rice Party. Their supplies had dwindled to rationing. The freshwater holes had been replaced with brackish water holes, animal bones were appearing beside the path, and the occasional grave. Furniture and other goods were found abandoned, with signs to take them, for their oxen had given out. The wagon train split in two, so one group could go via Donner Lake, while the three Galena families would take a Nevada route down to Los Angeles. The Imus and Rice families had abandoned their supplies, and only had skinny cattle to slaughter, which yielded little more than broth and hide. The hide was treated like jerky, something for chewing to appease an empty stomach.

The wagon train had come to a complete standstill in the Mojave Desert. Ike Holcomb and Kentuck Phillips, two members of the wagon train, volunteered to go ahead by foot, and find someone from whom they could beg supplies. After 150 miles in over a week, the weary men arrived at a ranch owned by John Rolland and begged for supplies for their starving group. Rowland said no, he’d been fooled like that in the past. Unwilling to give up, Ike and Kentuck said one of them would remain as a hostage, while the other would take an oxcart full of provisions to their stranded companions. If the one who leaves with the food doesn’t return in a timely manner, the hostage can be shot or hanged. This was a risk, because the one traveling could die on the way.

Yet Ike chose to be hostage, and Kentuck, without an hour’s rest, immediately guided the oxcart day and night 150 miles to his starving friends, arriving in the middle of the night. The adults were around the campfire, the men standing in surprise while the women dropping to their knees in tears. Katherine, Helen and the other children were awakened to eat their first meal in a long time, flour pancakes. Hiram Imus Jr. then led the wagon train to Los Angeles, arriving at the Rolland’s ranch, only to have his name quickly recognized. Rolland had served with Hiram Jr.’s brother Charles Imus, in the Bear Flag Revolt! So the skeptical rancher now provided a welcoming reunion.

The Imus-Rice party left Rolland’s Ranch, with 80-year-old Hiram, and his 74-year-old wife Ruth riding in an oxcart. Six weeks later, they all arrived in Santa Cruz, for an emotional reunion. It had taken a year, from May 1849 to May 1850, to cross the country. A baby born on the journey, died along the way. Hiram Imus Jr.’s daughter, Sarah Ann (Russell), and Philip D. Rice went totally deaf due to a combination of starvation, dehydration, vitamin deficiency and loud noises. Yet all 23 Imus-Rice family members arrived safely, and joy turned to celebration when Emily (eldest daughter of Hiram Imus Jr.), married the hero, Ike Holcomb, who’d been willing to risk his life as a hostage.

Further reading

“Evergreen Cemetery of Santa Cruz,” by Traci Bliss, Emerita Professor of Education. In 2022, the Rotary Club of Santa Cruz ensured that every fourth grade teacher in the county received a complimentary copy of the book for teaching their local history curriculum.