There was limited technology at the time Gertrude Ackerly collected her documentation of early La Porte history. Luckily, photographs were easily reproduced, but the printed word, not so much, or not that accessible. It was either the real deal or nothing. Because of that, every page of Gertrude Ackerly’s notes is handwritten in No. 2 pencil, on varying types of paper from Big Chief tablet to oversized plain stationary.
I can imagine her sitting at her dining room table in her little house on 4th Street on a warm summer day in 1950, with a couple of No. 2 pencils and stack of stationary. A copy of the oversized La Porte Chronicle from 1900 is open before her. Her head is down and diligently she scours each page, every word. Every now and then she reaches up to adjust her glasses. It’s 2:00 in the afternoon and the heat has finally burned off the coolness of the morning. She dabs at the moisture on her neck with one of her husband, Ves’ handkerchiefs then continues writing. The only sound is the scratching of the pencil on the paper, the ticking of the clock and the occasional meow of the cat. Diligently, she writes, page after page, transcribing each article, word for word, to preserve for the future so they will know – town peoples’ births, deaths, stories of the storm, government happenings, celebrations, graduations, and the like.
Every now and then, a breeze through the open window gently moves the page. Gertrude looks up, smiles and welcomes the fresh air, perhaps recalling other times, other memories of days spent at Red Bluff with friends long gone. She sighs then continues writing and writing until it is time to feed the cat its dinner.
