To: Tenchusatsu who wrote (822869 ) 12/15/2014 6:07:33 PM From: i-node Respond to of 1579018 >> I can almost guarantee you she's seriously considering it. People are just too free with the idea of suicide. My son told me of a story about the Gold Rush he saw on TV, where these two guys set out to make their fortunes and struck nothing but dirt. Eventually, one decided suicide was the only way out and killed himself. As the other was digging a hole in which to bury him, he found one of the largest gold nuggets then on record. The story is told differently on this website. But either way, it is usually worth living another day. ========= In a manner very reminiscent of the old western movie “Paint Your Wagon” – this great find was made when digging a grave. This is an exciting story connected with the finding of the Oliver Martin nugget, one of the largest ever found in California, which sold for $22,700, after it had earned $10,000 from exhibition in various parts of the country (the value would make the weight very nearly 1100 ounces of gold). Although a young man, Oliver Martin was little better than a tramp. He spent his time in doing odd jobs and drinking whiskey around the mining camps of Yuba, Tuolumne, El Dorado and Calaveras counties. He didn't even own a pan, much less a rocker or long torn. One of his close companions was John Fowler, who was equally shiftless and dissipated. One night in November, 1854, the two were on their way from Benton's bar over the Grizzly Mountains to Camp Corona, the spot made famous in literature by Bret Harte. The fall rains had begun, and the streams were running high. On the night of the 7th, almost stupid with drink, the two sought refuge in a deserted miner's hut. During the night a heavy rain, peculiar to the mountain ranges, set in. The water fell in torrents, and came pouring down the precipitous mountain sides. The narrow canon where Martin and Fowler lay asleep and drunk was soon filled with the rushing waters, which threatened to sweep away the old shack of a building in which they were resting. They were awakened by the water pouring into the cabin, and sought to escape by climbing the steep sides of the canon. Both men were swept back into the flood and were carried down the stream in the darkness. Martin was washed into a clump of live oaks, and managed to lodge, clinging to the branches until morning, but his friend Fowler was not so lucky and had drowned.