Page 26 - voices-2021-08

GLEANINGS FROM THE GROVE
The Immortal Hand
Paul Fanning, DTM
The legend says (or so I was told) that in
the days when the great Yosemite Valley was
discovered by explorers, the natives shared a
phenomenon peculiar to that area. In this land of
pine and oak trees, lush vegetation, streams, and
ample wildlife, lived a spirit who watched over
all the creatures, human and animal alike. This
spirit, with a very long and unpronounceable
name, was not malevolent, but gentle, caring
and kind.
The natives believed it provided the berries,
acorns, and small game they needed to survive.
It prospered the people, encouraged the plant life
to grow big and strong, and multiplied the fish
and the game. Yet known as it was by the tribe, it
was rarely seen. If observed at all, it was a gentle
breeze, a gust of wind or an agitation upon the
waters. However, in the dark of the night, it was
only a ghostly glow as It flitted about, the only
discernable part being the outline of a large,
glowing hand.
Thus, the newcomers to the valley, the
pioneers and the settlers who were lucky to catch
the rare glimpse of this friendly spirit, began to
call it “The Immortal Hand” which reflected the
native legend and the century of those who had
recently arrived. As towns sprang up, mining,
logging and other industry began to drive “The
Hand” further into the wilds to the point it was
26 ONE COMMUNITY
not seen. But dear reader, I must tell you, I have
been blessed in my young life, for I have seen
“The Immortal Hand.”
A dam had been built flooding one of
the canyons and creating the Hetch Hetchy
Reservoir, a source of water for San Francisco
and thirsty California. Many natives relocated
and soon resorts, summer camps, and other
tourist-related venues began to replace the
early industries of Yosemite. Conservationists
began to cry for preserving the wilderness and
habitats for wildlife. In the 1950’s and 1960’s, a
new generation of youth flocked to the camps
nestled in these woods—Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts,
Campfire Girls, and other programs began
teaching about conserving our natural resources,
honing nature skills, and a new field of wildlife
management. I was one of those youth sent as
“Babes in the Wilderness.” There we learned
about the local native legends and traditions.
The Summer months of July and August
were special to me growing up. As I was to reach
the mature age of twelve in a few weeks, I was
finally allowed to go to Summer Camp. It wasn’t
an easy decision for my mother to let me go.
There was a war raging in a faraway place called
Vietnam, and my father who was a chief hospital
corpsman, was currently convalescing in Japan
after being wounded. My grandfather, who had