A trail near Jacksonville
By Barry Vitcov
One of the many pleasures of living in Southern Oregon are the multitude of trails available for adventure, offereing both easy and strenuous hikes. Poet Brett Rickaby’s poem writes of his reaction to this well-known trail just outside Jacksonville and the history surrounding Gin Lin, a prominent Chinese gold miner in the late 1800’s.
The history of the Gin Lin Trail as provided by the USDA Forest Service states, ” A prominent Chinese mine boss by the name of Gin Lin purchased mining claims in this area in 1881. Gin Lin was one of thousands of Chinese sojourners who came to Oregon during the nineteenth century to seek their fortunes. He probably arrived in southern Oregon in the early 1860s, when his name first appears in the historical records.
“The anti-Chinese sentiment was widespread on the Pacific Coast when Gin Lin came to Oregon. Chinese workers were singled out for special taxes. These included a mining tax in Jackson and Josephine counties, first levied in the 1850s, and a statewide annual poll tax, instituted in 1862. The original 1857 state constitution also stated that “no Negro, Chinaman or Mulatto shall have the right of suffrage.” Despite the state’s institutionalized discrimination against them, Chinese men came by the thousands to work in Oregon’s mines, salmon canneries, and agricultural fields.
“Gin Lin recruited many of his fellow countrymen to work his mines, the first of which he purchased in 1864. He gradually acquired more land over the years and had his men build miles of ditches to serve the newly established mines. One of the largest is still known as China Ditch.
“Gin Lin returned to China in 1894. A very rich man by this time, he is rumored to have been murdered by robbers, though this story has never been verified in the Chinese archives. Although little is known about his final days, his legacy is still visible in the landscape.”
The Gin Lin Trail
By Brett Rickaby
Gin Lin! I see what you’ve been up to
You left your treasure behind!
Your men trudged these crooked paths
Eager for their fortune
How many times their feet trod this dusty hill!
From China to the Siskiyous they walked
Together, you out-mined the West
Envy broke out and you were beaten
For white turns green for yellow gold
I am standing where you stood, Gin Lin
You, who turned all mountain dust to gold
Here, fawn lilies bow their heads in memory
Shooting stars are quick to report the news
Sweet hills peer over the gurgling Applegate
And four-inch bark lies scattered scriptures of your time
Yes, the rush is over
But the world is still fevered for precious metals
You who read this, beware the story of old Gin Lin
Whose cunning found what he was looking for
But whose blindness left life’s greatest treasures behind
Brett Rickaby made a profession using the words of others to express himself. Having grown up with a limited vocabulary, his acting mentor told him, “You need to read more and learn to become more articulate!” This set in motion a process that influences his work to this day. Writing prolifically since 1997, few works have been shared, published, or produced. His journey has been as much about finding his own authentic voice as in anything that pleases others. He has been on film, stage, TV, produced his own plays, short films, recently written two streaming series in their entirety, taught acting for 20 years, and self-published three acting scene books and a daily devotional. He finds curious parallels in his healing journey and local fascinations with Sasquatch.
Poetry Submissions Welcomed!
You are invited to submit original work to the Poetry Corner. There is only one restriction: Poems ought to show a connection to Ashland and/or Southern Oregon. Your interpretation of that connection is fairly loose and mine is probably even looser! Be sure to include the title of your poem, your name as you would like it to appear, the city or town in which you reside, and, if you wish, your preferred pronouns. Finally, please submit a bio statement of less than 150 words written in the third-person.
To submit poems, send to Barry Vitcov at [email protected].
