I Love Jackson!

No, not the Texas born actor, Jackson Hurst (@jaxhurst), best know for his role as Grayson Kent in Drop Dead Diva. I will admit, at 45 he’s not a bad piece of eye candy. But he’s not the Jackson I’m in love with.

I love the quaint little town of Jackson, California. It’s about 60 miles north-east of here in nestled in the Sierra Foothills. I think I’ve loved the town of Jackson most of my life. As far as towns go, Jackson is the largest in the county, which tells you just how small the neighboring towns are. The town of Jackson dates back to 1848 as an early gold rush camp. It was conveniently located between Sacramento and the gold fields. A fire raged through town in 1862. The folks of Jackson wasted no time rebuilding their town; many with brick instead of wood structures. Walking down Main Street is like walking down a Civil War era western town as many of those buildings stand today.

By 1900 Jackson was booming with five boarding houses, four hotels, three churches, three newspapers, eight physicians and two dentists. All this to serve a population of about 3,000 people. The churches are still there, as is one large historic hotel at the end of Main Street. According to the 2010 census, Jackson’s population had only grown by 1,651 people from it’s boom days. Today an estimated 5,000 call Jackson home. Seems the town is experiencing a second boom. Life is slower in the smaller towns and people want to slow down.

Since I was a child I have always wanted to live in Jackson. Sometimes I hear whispers from the past and their hushed voices impart an odd sense of comfort. It is almost as though I’m out of step with today and should be somewhere in the past.

Walk up the hill along Church Street; spend a little time in one of several cemeteries and you’ll get a feel for the tragic past of this town. The worst gold mine disaster in American History struck in Jackson on August 27, 1922. A fire broke out in the nearby Argonaut mine at about 3,000 feet below ground. Miners, most of them immigrants from Europe, were trapped below the fire, some 1,650 further down. Forty-seven men died in that fire. Forty-seven fathers, husbands, sons did not come home.

World War II saw the end of Jackson’s gold mining industry. Yet timer harvest and milling continued. This wasn’t easy since the highways did not yet exist. Semi-trucks and trailers loaded with tree sections bent their way through downtown Jackson along Main Street and out to Broadway. By 1948 the state division of highways completed Highways 49 and 88, bypassing Jackson. I cannot help but wonder if the highway bypass preserved the town in its past. These days on any Saturday or Sunday, Jackson is bursting with tourist seeking to rediscover that past in one of many antique stores or saloons dotting Main Street.

Depending upon my mood, when are Jackson just for the sake of being up in Jackson, I like brunch at Rosebud’s Café. They serve up blueberry mimosas and fresh vegetable tarts straight from their garden. My second favorite place to eat, although part of a chain, is Brickhouse Brewery. They have the best Authentic Chicago Dogs around – right down to the peppers.

It doesn’t take much to work up an appetite after shopping along Main Street. In addition to the specialty boutiques, there’s my favorite place to shop – the Biggest Little Kitchen Store. You name it, they have it. Everything from gadgets to cook books and top of the line cookware.

Jackson hosts a couple of fun events in the spring. The first is the Dandelion Days, which shuts down Main Street for two days. It’s a combination Saint Patrick’s Celebration, Carnival and Flea Market. There are all sorts of local cottage kitchens selling everything from jams to goat cheeses and lamb salami.

Then there’s our favorite, the Mother Lode Car Show in mid-May. Again, Main Street is closed to traffic as car clubs strut their stuff. The rules are no car newer than 1970 can be displayed, although over the years we’ve seen some sharp looking newer Corvettes. I guess Corvettes are an exception.

Another popular event is Jackson at Christmas Time. The charm of this frontier town is not to be missed. There’s a parade and yes, Jackson gets a dusting of snow in winter.

Yep, I love Jackson. I’ve even found my dream house.

If not, then someday I’d like to stay at the National Hotel if only for one night. I hear it’s haunted. Wouldn’t that be fun?

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In case you are wondering what an actor from Texas has to do with Jackson, California – let’s just say that’s a private joke between Hubby and me. Hubby, you might be a goofball, but you are all mine and I love you!