Friday, May 15, 2020

Are the Bricks Hypersigils?

It's been a while since an update, but with the world having gone completely sideways, this humble blog seemed less of priority to get out into the world, but today I wanted to post in thanks... for the bricks continue to make themselves woven into my life in a way that I can no longer ignore the importance of. I have tapped into something I don't fully yet comprehend.

Again, this is only even mildly interesting if you are into the concepts of synchronicity and the like, so feel free to bail out if the minutiae of someone's life is NOT more interesting than whatever else you have going on at the moment. But if you agree that it's hilarious that a woman who grew up thinking as the Catholic Church as the literal Enemy™ is now collecting old items about an order of nuns then this might interest you. 

Those of you that follow me on Twitter (where there are no rules and I just babble incoherently and overshare about everything) or Instagram (where I try to at least distill it down to local crap, bricks, and cats ha ha ha) know that I can't seem to stay away from the Providence Academy. During the COVID isolation going on, basically whenever I have to run what I call a "plague errand" I'll do a drive by if I'm close. If there's no one else there I'll get out and walk around. I have taken lunch there a couple times and just sat on the grounds and talked to Mother Joseph. Something about that place makes me feel anchored. Sometimes I just need to assure myself that it's still there and real. 

View from my new favorite lunch spot.

On April 15, the day before Mother Joseph's birthday, I came here to talk to her again (I just feel sad at her gravesite and would much rather be here) and sat outside the room where she died for a while. I'd recently been going through a rough transition and was feeling unmoored, like my life had lost focus completely. Not having a parent in my life, I decided she was mine now and unloaded my crap onto her and felt better. 

After I ate my lunch with Mother Joseph, I walked over to the Laundry/Boiler room area, as I'm obsessed with documenting the decay, knowing that the building is slated to come down no later than 2022. The Historic Trust are trying to save the iconic chimney as part of the renovation and gentrification, but it isn't looking good. It has just decayed for too long, the roof is completely collapsed in.

Walking around and taking photos, a pine cone fell out of this tree and literally landed on my foot. The tree will soon be no more along with the rest of the grounds here according to the most recent restoration plan. I got a wild hair and decided to try to help the tree live on, planting seeds from it part of a ritual that had to do with new beginnings career wise. The timing of my plans that evening seemed too perfect not to incorporate this gift from the tree into my plans.

The tree got my attention when I was in the attic during the tour back in February also. It's kind out out there by itself in the parking lot.

Used to be the grounds of the St. Joseph Hospital.

I spied an old path between the Academy and the old St. Joseph's site.
The Comfort Inn and Black Angus are on the site of the old St. Joseph's Hospital, which used to look like this around 1916. Mother Joseph designed it but sadly died from cancer before it was built with Hidden bricks. I plan on staying there overnight and doing an investigation when life returns to somewhat normalcy. I would imagine the grounds likely have some interesting activity, given the history of the space there. This was also the hospital in use in the area during the 1918 flu epidemic, and timing with current events seems significant for me to discover this.

Postcard  circa 1910 from my ever-growing collection.
Initially I was going to try to sprout the pine cone itself, but then decided to do another ritual with it first involving Mother Gamelin. Overnight before the planned ritual for Mother Joseph's birthday, the pine cone opened and seeds fell out, so I decided to proceed a different way and planted them directly in the dirt with some crystal chips.

The reason I'm yammering about a pine cone is that it was a direct part of my ritual in which I asked for Mother Joseph's help in bringing my future plans to fruition, and I took the first tangible step on this day after my visit to the Academy.  I planted these pine cone seeds on April 16th when I also honored her with a small art piece I did. Taking a hint from my friend Mark Obscura, who recently had the brilliant idea to incorporate some Boleskine House remains into some art projects, I then added Hidden Brick Dust under the varnish on this small canvas. I also painted a rock to look like a Hidden Brick, varnished it also with brick dust, and planned to bring it to Robert Hidden later.

This pinecone's seen some stuff this month. Ha ha

My Birthday Offering
I made the decision to spend some very limited funds on training that will get me back into the career that I suddenly had clarity to go back to, and incorporated these offerings to Mojo and Robert as part of my intentions. I planted these seeds from the Academy as a tangible symbol of my taking control of my new path. Feeling supported, I also made a very personal decision this day, and a month later I now can say I feel comforted that MoJo again had my back.

Yesterday my background check came back and I was officially hired for my new job, goal one on the Big Plan unlocked. If you read my last blog, about my maternal line the Sadliers, and how they helped Mother Joseph on her way out here, you already know why the fact that I was hired by a man whose last name is Saddler (so close) is interesting...

But also yesterday, this happened. Timing... 

We have pinecone life!
I also have recently been to the Old City Cemetery and visited the Hidden plot, where it became apparent that their involvement with the Masons went deeper than I realized. I'm now down a deep rabbit hole about esoterics in brick making and architecture and plan to visit the local Masonic Lodge to discuss the temple the Hiddens built and all the goods involved with that venture.

The "OG" Brick Master

The 2nd Generation
And finally, my other local hero, Robert - who tried so very hard to save many more of the Hidden Brick buildings here in Vancouver. Here's an image I purchased from Historic Images of him with a court order trying to save the High School back in 1973.

Literally stopped destruction once. Amazing.
Third generation Robert opted for a Cross instead of the Masonic symbols of his ancestors on his gravestone. He was a devout Methodist by all accounts I've read thus far. Hope he's cool with an offering from a witch. 

3rd Generation Badass Right Here

An offering... thanks for saving the Academy, Robert.
I also had a crazy synchronicity on a ride into Portland recently. We were in the neighborhood of the last apartment I lived over there when I was single about 15 years ago, immediately prior to moving to Vancouver to move in with Dave. I had a sudden burning need to see the old building, even though I hadn't been there in 15 years. I got out to photograph the building for nostalgia's sake and immediately started laughing hysterically to the confusion of my spouse.

Sitting outside what used to be my apartment window there was some new landscaping. They've gentrified the area and it looks really great. It's what they have obviously dug out of the ground and painted white to surround the new trees they just planted that had me screaming...

"Well, clearly the bricks were going to get you one way or the other," my very rational, non-spooky spouse upon seeing this outside the old apartment.

Every day I find some other new nugget of synchronicity that continues to point me down the path of digging into these nuns, the Hidden Family, and the Providence Academy. There's no escape for me so I've decided to fully embrace it - I'm writing a book.

I've got a five page outline of ideas, yet every twist and turn I take leads into an entirely different offshoot and this project continues to grow. At this point I've realized this is going to take years for me to truly dig down into the meat of what is going on here, and for some bizarre reason I'm the person to do it. I have no idea how to distill any of this down to any meaning, but I'm pulling a page from MoJo and assuming it will all work out. 

Going forward, much of this blog will likely be chronicles of me trying to literally follow in Mother Joseph's footsteps, visiting as many places as she herself went, focusing on the places that have been built from Hidden bricks and continuing to uncover the truths of this fascinating and complicated woman and the impact her works had. There is so much to be understood about her as a person. Again and again I am reading in original sources about her unique (particularly for the times!) gender expression, a story that I do not feel has ever been adequately examined, let alone celebrated as it should be.

Additionally, my working hypothesis is that the Hidden bricks themselves are indeed charged with energy from how they were themselves constructed in a Masonic manner. The combination of where and how what I feel are the two contributing themes intersect is what's so fascinating to me. Catholics were NOT supposed to be hanging out with Masons when these buildings were built. In fact, hanging out with Masons around this time could actually get you excommunicated, so how in the world did a Catholic nun end up teaching Masons how to make bricks? Whatever they did, it's unique.

These bricks are physical objects we can still hold that are absolutely still dripping with energetic intention from both parties. They are a snapshot of a moment in time where things were Beginning. Does this make them "haunted?" What is the cocktail necessary to make an object haunted? What does it mean to be haunted? Are the bricks doorways to the past? Are the bricks hypersigils? Is ANY of this real or am I just finally losing it in the halls of my own subconscious?

Just a nugget as to where I am trying to go with this...doing basic research on Masonic terms, subjects of mystical knowledge (what some call "Occult") they call "Esoteric"...

...Hidden in plain sight. Words and symbols have power.

Oh look its the Carnegie Library in 1919. I just wanted to throw one more vintage postcard your way cause I have a problem. 
The pyramid shaped roof points on the Library are an example of Masonic details incorporating pyramid shapes, an important esoteric power symbol. The first generation of Hiddens also put these on the Masonic Temple and Columbian Hotel they designed and built as well. Gee, I wonder why these places are haunted or "still juiced"?

Travel Plans:
Fargher Lake - THE RETURN (probably next with St. Vincent's Hospital in Portland)
Astoria - THE RETURN (Yeah, guess what? She was there too! Are we surprised at this point? Nope.)
Walla Walla

and f*ck it, I'm manifesting it, even if its years from now - NYC & Montreal.

Providence Mother House Asile, Montreal, my collection, original photo dated 1912.
All aboard the Brick Tour, we're getting weirder. 

Thursday, March 5, 2020

Podcast Appearances and Synchronicities Uptick!

Big Brick news - I recently recorded a chat with Rick at Some Other Sphere podcast about our favorite bricks. It was the first public speaking experience I've had since college, and so say I was nervous was an understatement. Rick's patience and graciousness helped me get through my crippling anxiety and provided a great first podcast experience. Our chat can be heard HERE.

Additionally, there will be a second appearance by yours truly on another podcast called Nox Mente. This one will stream live on you tube March 18th, 6pm Pacific Time. Nox Mente can be found HERE. 

The bricks are in charge, I'm just along for the ride at this point as things are ramping up. And the ride is still ongoing. 

Back when we took our tour at the Providence Academy, our docent gave me the name of a biography about Mother Joseph that I should read, "The Bell and the River," written by another of the Sisters of Providence. Immediately after the tour, I walked across the street to the Vancouver downtown library to check the book out but discovered it was in the Reference only section and couldn't leave the building. So I tracked one down on ebay, and immediately was slammed into another wave of heavy synchronicities. 

As quickly as page 18, I literally gasped at the description of young Esther/MJ in the carriage shop with her father learning his tools. I had an identical, and I mean identical, experience in my father's garage working on cars with him. He would quiz me as I sat there with my eyes closed and chose by feel. I had the strangest sense of deja vu reading the above paragraph again and again. 

Of course the paternal side of my family with our history as Nascar pit crew, mechanics, construction superintendents reminds me of MJ and her family's lineage. I come from a long line of fixers. What I wasn't expecting was to be slammed into an indisputable link to the lost, disconnected maternal line of my ancestry.

My mother and I don't speak for a number of reasons, our bond completely severed shortly after my grandmother Donna passed, who was the usual peacemaker between the two of us. 
My maternal grandparents on their wedding day and great grandparents, Ceil on the right.

Peacemaker Donna (Prince) Halvorson on the left with her new husband Bob, great Grandmother Cecelia (Sadlier) Prince on the left with her husband Harold. I realized when I worked in a town called Woodland, Washington (about 20 minutes north of Vancouver) that my Great Grandmother's distant cousins, the Sadliers, were out in the area. I sold them insurance for their construction business once upon a time. Most of the Sadliers came over via Montreal, Canada via New York City. Some fared better than others.

My great great grandfather Joseph Sadlier ended up going to the Midwest via Illinois and then Minnesota, where the rest of the maternal line was from. By all accounts he was a poor, illiterate but hard working Irish farm immigrant. My great grandmother Cecelia grew up on a farm in Illinois and only had a sixth grade education but was one of the smartest humans I've ever encountered. She knew and understood people in a fascinating, nearly intuitive way that couldn't be taught from a book.

If you go back far enough, Joseph Sadlier is definitely related to the original Sadliers that came over from Ireland. A relative named Katherine becomes important later, as she's the literal link to my line and another line of Sadliers linked to the Mother Joseph story. 

Great granny Ceil was also nearly a Catholic nun. Much like our friend Mother Joseph, my granny Ceil joined a convent as a young woman after feeling called towards a life of service to the poor and infirm. My great grandfather Harold Prince was brought to Hibbing, Minnesota to work in the open pit mine there. (This is the same mine that brings my father to town for work many years later where he meets my mother.) Similar to the beginnings of the city of Vancouver, the Catholic Church in Hibbing, Minnesota built a huge parish to attract families to the area so the miners would stay in the area and raise families. 

Upon meeting Ceil at a fancy dinner held to welcome the new miners to town, Harold falls in love at first sight with the tiny spitfire and converts to Catholicism. My grandfather does the same to marry Harold and Ceil's daughter Donna later. Harold annoyed the other nuns at the convent, serenading my great grandmother outside the window every night until she agreed to not take her final vows as a nun. It's quite the romantic story.

Great granny herself was pretty cool. She introduced me to a lifelong love of horror movies, despite her strong and unwavering Catholic faith throughout her life. I had zero problems with great granny. She was very close to my mother growing up, so I didn't keep her very close growing up as my mother and I were consistently conflicted, but she was always kind to me.

So why all this yammering about the Sadlier family, who I don't even really know? Well... a relative of mine named Katherine Sadlier is related directly to a famous author named Mary Ann Sadlier, who is pretty easy to trace. 

Dennis and James? Well... let's just say they literally saved Mother Joseph and her other sisters from a likely doom when they arrived in New York City on their way out here to the Oregon Territory, according to the Bell and the River: 

Yes, my ancestors, heavily involved with the Catholic Church, did MJ and company a solid way back in 1852. Too weird!

The rest of the book (I'm only half done) really helps endear MJ further to me, as she literally begged not to be put in charge several times and worked through some very familiar demons surrounding feelings of inadequacy. Even recording podcasts about bricks are forcing me to do very real, deep work on myself. I'm doing it for the bricks. 

I feel once again, this can be nothing less than literal magick in action, or Brick Mojo, as I've been calling this ride...which as my brilliant comrade and fellow Liminal.Earth  Ambassador AP Strange pointed out to me the other day...

MOther JOseph
Cabinet Photo Circa 1900, purchased from Historical Images. Original photo taken by Portland photographer Hofsteater.

I can think of few things that harness more magick than a journey that leads to self-growth through facing uncomfortable misconceptions about yourself and your perceived lack of capabilities and worthiness... ending back up in the middle of messy family history. Almost sounds like surrendering to Providence to this witch.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

Hidden Bricks: In the footsteps of Mother Joseph, Astoria Synchronicities, and "Terrible Tilly" Lighthouse

While researching Mother Joseph and the sisters of Providence, I discovered that there are several Providence Medical facilities that have a 1/4 size copy of the statue of MJ that is in the national gallery. We went to Providence Hospital in Portland to find the closest one to us. 

Her tools at her feet. 

While I came to track down Mother Joseph, Providence also highly honors her predecessor, Beloved Emilie Gamelin, the foundress of the Sisters of Providence. She's another remarkable woman I never would have encountered without looking into Hidden bricks. In 1960, the Catholic church began what they called the "investigation process" to work towards her beatification and canonization (Sainthood). She's also a really big deal.

From Wikipedia:

 "In 1983, an inquiry into Gamelin's canonization cause was begun by a diocesan tribunal. The evidence heard by the tribunal was compiled into a document called a positio, which was sent to Rome and presented to the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints. The positio was examined by a committee of expert theologians and, upon their recommendation, Pope John Paul II declared Gamelin to be Venerable (the second of the four stages of sainthood) on 23 December 1993.[8]
Also in 1983, a 13-year-old boy named Yannick Fréchette was observed to make a surprising recovery from leukemia following prayer directed to Mother Émilie Gamelin. 

The medical file relating to this case was submitted to doctors in Rome, and in 1999 those doctors unanimously declared Fréchette's recovery to be a miracle, attributable to the intercession of Gamelin. The healing was formally acknowledged as an authentic miracle by Pope John Paul II on 18 December 2000. The declaration of a miracle enabled Gamelin to meet the requirements for beatification, the third of the four stages of sainthood, and on 7 October 2001 Pope John Paul II beatified her. As a result of her beatification, Gamelin received the title "Blessed", and public veneration to her was authorized by the Roman Catholic Church in areas associated with her.[8]"

Inside the Chapel at Providence Portland Medical Center

To say that Gamelin lived a life of tragedy is frankly putting it lightly. Born in 1800 as the youngest of 15 children, her mother died when she was four. It is said at age three she gave up her own food for a beggar, as she was moved by his suffering. She also lost her father, sister, and sister in law by the age of 18. She thought about entering religious life early on, but at age 23 married instead.

She had three children with her husband, all three died, along with her husband by 1828. Her grief was so consuming, all she could think to do was to help others, and she opened a guest house on her property, moving in a 102 year old in need of help. Her friends and family ridiculed her. Soon two more houses and the care of 30 residents were her responsibility. Much like her protege Mother Joseph, she felt God's Providence work throughout her life:

From the Providence Archive here:

"One day she prayed at Montreal's Notre Dame church because she did not have the money to buy food. After prayers, she continued on her way to the market where she planned to beg at the stalls. An old man approached her and handed her 23 louis ($100) saying it was for the poor. Émilie Gamelin's life is filled with similar incidents in which she trusted completely in Divine Providence and was able to continue her work."

She worked with people ill with cholera and was known for changing the views of the rich towards the homeless and ill to one of compassion instead of scorn. She also had a soft spot for the disabled, as the Providence Archive continues:

"Émilie Gamelin's strong interest in the care of people with mental illness can be traced to a request made by her husband around the time of his death. John Baptiste had begged her to continue caring for Dodais, a boy with mental retardation whom he had befriended. Dodais had rescued him after an attack in which John Baptiste had been left unconscious by the side of a road. The cries of Dodais summoned help. Émilie Gamelin fulfilled her husband's wish and cared for Dodais until he died at age 30. Dodais was described as "unable to do the smallest thing for himself, and capable of uttering only confusing and unintelligible sounds." Émilie Gamelin revealed to her spiritual director that Dodais at his death was granted the use of speech long enough to thank her for her tender care. Her interest in people with mental afflictions resulted in the establishment of many institutions of care throughout Quebec.

Bishop Ignace Bourget of Montreal made plans to ask some women religious from Paris to become involved in and carry on the work founded by Émilie Gamelin. Eventually, the sisters under consideration sent word that they could not come to Canada. The Bishop made a prayerful decision to found a diocesan order of women religious to carry on Émilie Gamelin's work. Although she was not among the original group of seven sisters, Émilie Gamelin soon became a novice and on March 30, 1844, she became Mother Gamelin, the first Superior General of the young community."

And thus the Sisters of Providence were born. Mother Joseph (under her father's escort) arrived there in Montreal on December 26, 1843.

Small statue of Gamelin outside the chapel

Outside the chapel
Also outside the chapel is a nice tribute to Mother Joseph:

Wandering the halls we found St. Joseph. 
Outside the Cancer center here in the turn around, is a replica of the famous statue of Gamelin that stands in Montreal (where the Sisters of Providence were founded) outside of the Rue Sainte-Catherine exit of the Berri-UQAM Metro Station. It shows her handing out bread to orphans.

Mother Joseph herself felt it was Providence that brought her to Gamelin to continue her work - quotes from the Providence Archive:

One of the things that continues to make Mother Joseph so relatable to me is that she had a pretty intense case of Imposter Syndrome, and worried about her projects. She made the choice to turn it over to God. Some more of Mjs greatest hits from The Providence Archive:

On Valentine's day we decided to go to the Oregon Coast and Astoria for an adventure. It ended up being a day filled with Brick Mojo. I wanted to check out a known haunt, (The "Other" Flavel house in town). There was a church across the street that had a book sale. And where there's a book sale, I'm going in.

Old church was a bonus

One of the places I've not taken a deep dive to quite yet but planned to is the Tillamook Rock Lighthouse. I specifically have been wanting to find an older book on the Light that had some actual first hand accounts of what the "haunting" inside is like. On the first table I walked to I found this for a buck:

Oh, it gets better. It's signed and was written by one of the Lighthouse Keepers! I felt like I won the lottery. In addition, this particular version (1979) is noted by author James A. Gibbs that the earlier versions of the books used alias names for the other keepers for their privacy as they were still living. This version is the real deal with the keepers' real names used. 

There's a great recent drone video here, where you can see the Hidden Bricks used on the smaller building lower down the rock and around on the grounds, and see what it's looking out there these days. Drone Video by Geist View

I bought this book and a couple more without looking at it, and when I got home that night and read it I realized I hit actual ghost story paydirt. The first night on the rock the author reads old logs about other light houses and realizes there's a patterns of hauntings. After an initial false alarm that involves a goose busting into his quarters, a 10 X 10 foot room, he realizes that Tillamook Light is also haunted:

This is just the entry about his first night arriving on the rock. The author describes how bringing outside life to the rock always ended in failure. Plants wither and die, a dog was brought out to improve morale and mysteriously "disappeared" after being depressed and listless. A cat was brought out for company, but with no rats or rodents to chase it just "up and died one day" (p. 68).

So why is this place so crazy haunted? Well, let's start with the location itself before we even add in Hidden Bricks. Basically the Tillamook Lighthouse was a giant lemon of a building project from the start. 

According to author Mike Helm in his 1983 book, “Oregon’s GHOSTS & Monsters,” Tillamook Rock’s reputation was known to Native Americans. He stated, “They believed it was cursed by their gods, haunted by evil spirits, and they were never known to have approached it.” There are also stories that Native Americans believed the rock was filled with tunnels inhabited by spirits. 

1.2 miles off shore, Tillamook Rock Lighthouse is built on under an acre of basalt in the Pacific. Commissioned by US Congress 1878, construction began in 1880 and was plagued with problems, taking 575 days to finish. Standing 134 feet tall, the author describes it on page 5 of "Tillamook Light" as "a pint-sized Alcatraz".  It was decommissioned in 1957 and is currently privately owned. The stone blocks on the outside are more than two feet thick, but the elements on the Pacific are too powerful and the lighthouse was a doomed venture from the beginning. Most of the building is made from stone from the Clackamas, Oregon area, but the Hidden Family history in the Historical Museum confirmed that at least a large portion of these red brick used were Hidden Bricks. 

During the building, a mason working on the lighthouse who had worked on lighthouses in England, John R. Trewaves, was brought in to do a construction survey. On September 18, 1879 he was swept out to sea and drowned doing his work. 

Three weeks before the project's finish (the light was lit January 21, 1881) tragedy struck on January 3. British ship Lupatia (incoming from Japan) was wrecked during a storm and sank, killing all 16 crew members. There was a dog onboard that survived and was adopted by a family in Astoria. Gibbs' book describes the wreck:

"A few of the construction workers who had refused to believe a ship was actually out in the storm, repined in the aftermath of the incident. One, learning of the death of the entire ship's company, was quoted as saying 'If we had only believed our ears. If we had just shouted, made some kind of loud noise...We might have warned them off. It was tough looking at the remains of that ship day after day and realizing that we perhaps could have saved it.'" (p 56.) 

I had my own minor run in with this lighthouse. About 15 years ago I went on a kick where I wanted to travel to all of the Coastal lighthouses around here and visit and photograph them. I took my 1960's Yashica SLR that I inherited from my father and all the lenses with me so I could get some shots of Terrible Tilly. 

This is the second to last shot I took with that camera, from Ecola State park. 

This is the final shot I took with that camera, of Tillamook Light. Upon taking this photo the shutter on my camera stuck shut and the camera will not operate correctly since. I've taken it to two different camera shops and neither of them could seem to figure out what the problem was and I just have had it sitting in my closet since. 

Did a cursed lighthouse break my camera? I don't know, man. I really don't.

Going back to that church book sale for one more fun synchronicity. I picked up another $1 book off of the same table, that looked interesting. Again, didn't do a flip through until later. It was a little rough shape, but also signed... and look who is inside (which is what I was hoping for):

MJ's Brick Mojo Strikes again!
I hadn't even gotten home yet to realize the treasures I had hidden in the books, but I already was having serious "brick mojo" on the rest of the trip. I found a piece of jewelry I was specifically wanting for a great price, and then we headed to Fort Stevens State Park, also a highly haunted and liminal space. 

Instantly upon entering the park I was stunned to see a small herd of elk calmly eating in the middle of the state park. I calmly talked to them and got about five feet away and stopped. They didn't care I was there. 

Of course I had to look up the meaning of when one encounters elk, which was very meaningful for me personally and I just went through a major job transition. 
It was Valentine's Day, so my husband brought me through the woods there by Coffenbury lake, because that's "where he took cute girls to kiss" when he was there as a kid in the summer. 

I got a few snogs and the enjoyed a walk in the area that felt super liminal and magickal that morning. I picked up a bunch of moss, pinecones, etc for my "witch stuff." 

Altar prizes

Magick in the forest

After our walk around the lake, we went out to the Peter Iredale shipwreck on the beach, which was also mentioned in my new book about Tillamook Light. Despite the light, the shipwrecks in the area continued over time. Gibbs' book highlights a few of them, including the Peter Iredale.

Shipwrecks that weren't prevented by Tillamook Light. 

Wreck of the Peter Iredale

And of course, I have no idea where it came from, but out on that beach I swear to you I found a part of a red brick.