Wednesday, July 15, 2026

A Legacy in Wood and Stone: My Fifty Years Building California Homes


For my grandsons, here is the story of a career built one foundation, one frame, and one neighborhood at a time. It spans from humble beginnings as a teenage apprentice to leading major residential developments across California. This is more than a résumé—it is a testament to hard work, resilience through recessions, and the deep satisfaction of creating places where families put down roots.

Roots in Craftsmanship: Learning from My Father (1956–1968)


My father was a general contractor who built custom homes and small commercial projects. He learned carpentry from his own father, a successful home builder in Detroit before the Great Depression. During World War II, Dad worked at Douglas Aircraft Company as a wood jig and fixture builder—skills that translated perfectly to postwar construction. By 1946, he held a California contractor’s license. He started with framing contracts and, by 1951, was building and selling his own custom homes. 


Dad was a man shaped by the Depression and a strict English upbringing. At 5'4", he approached everything as a competition. He demanded excellence and instilled a powerful work ethic in me. In 1956, as a teenager, I began working for him after school, on weekends, and every summer. He insisted I earn my own money for clothes and school supplies.


When work slowed, he hired me out to subcontractors. I learned plastering, brick masonry, concrete, and advanced framing. One unforgettable summer in 1958, we built a motel using a one-sack cement mixer because ready-mix deliveries from Fresno to Oakhurst were too expensive. I shoveled sand, gravel, and cement all day. That summer I went from a skinny 112-pound sophomore football player to over 150 pounds by the start of my junior year.


I mastered concrete work, rough and finish carpentry, sheet metal, lathing, insulation, and countless other trades. Dad taught me everything needed to become a capable home builder. In 1966, he made me a junior partner. Those years formed the bedrock of my career, and I remain forever grateful.


Entering the Professional Ranks: Kaufman & Broad and Early Lessons (1969–1972)


In 1969, I joined Kaufman & Broad (now KB Home), one of the nation’s largest and most innovative home builders. Founded in 1957 by Eli Broad and Donald Kaufman, the company pioneered large-scale production housing, making quality homes accessible to more families and helping define the postwar suburban boom in California and beyond. 


I started as a pick-up carpenter on a completed tract and quickly rose to assistant superintendent. My first major project involved building a three-acre lake, four model homes, a future recreation center, and the initial phase of 34 production homes on land once owned by movie producer Rowland V. Lee.


Under a seasoned superintendent, I learned project scheduling, coordination, inspection, grading, off-site improvements (streets, curbs, utilities), and even lake reconstruction. Soon I was promoted to superintendent on a 130-acre project with its own Hollywood pedigree: previously the Marwyck Ranch of Barbara Stanwyck and Zeppo Marx, later owned by comedian Jack Oakie. The estate connections added a touch of glamour to the daily grind of foundations and framing. 


Recessions were a recurring challenge in California homebuilding. The 1970 downturn brought layoffs, leading me briefly to apartment work, then framing mountain cabins in Big Bear Lake with my dad. In 1972, K&B rehired me as Director of Customer Relations. I oversaw quality control and warranty service for about 1,500 homes across five counties, managing a staff of 12 and launching a new inspection program. I learned that standing firm on standards—sometimes dramatically—earned respect and improved outcomes.


Expanding Horizons: Land Planning, Multi-Family, and Leadership Roles (1974–1983)


K&B taught me that advancement often meant changing companies. In 1973, a headhunter recruited me to Larwin, another major California builder active in both single-family and multi-family housing. I managed a troubled 450-unit apartment project that was over a year late and significantly over budget. Subcontractors had walked off, and materials sat exposed to the elements. I rebid contracts, rebuilt teams, and turned it around while also delivering another 400 units, recreation centers, and major off-site work, including highway alterations. Federal tax changes later forced asset sales, but the experience sharpened my development and turnaround skills.


During the mid-1970s recession, I ran my own remodeling business—working days as a tradesman and nights as designer, estimator, and salesman. It provided flexibility to coach my kids’ sports and a steady income.


In 1976, I became Director of Construction for McKeon Construction in the San Fernando Valley. Founded in Sacramento in 1953, McKeon grew into one of the nation’s top 32 homebuilders, known especially for attached housing and fourplex condominiums that still characterize many California neighborhoods. I oversaw 246 attached and 94 detached homes.


Next came California Development, where as General Manager (1978–1983) I built over 75 townhomes, 35 more attached homes, and several large custom residences up to 6,000 square feet. These luxury projects helped weather the 1981 recession. We then consulted on a modular housing venture, “Sequoia Homes,” designing systems, securing approvals, and launching production that sold dozens of units at a single trade show.



In late 1983, I took a Division President role with Carlsberg Construction in Northern California, developing townhomes, tract homes, and entitlements for future phases before the division was sold.


Peak Leadership: Glenfed Development (1984–1992)


In 1984, I joined Glenfed Development, a subsidiary of Glendale Federal Savings Bank, as Senior Purchasing Agent and soon Director of Construction. During a period of rapid growth, I managed teams building nearly 900 planned unit development (PUD) homes, over 400 attached homes, and hundreds of detached homes.


Promoted to Senior Joint Venture Administrator, I negotiated partnerships that delivered hundreds more homes and substantial commercial space. By 1989, I was Senior Vice President and Director of Residential Development. Federal regulations separating banks from development, followed by the early 1990s recession, forced wind-downs. I stayed to complete projects, manage sales and auctions, and reduce staff thoughtfully while still delivering 266 PUD homes, 138 attached, and 233 detached units, plus more entitlements.


Reflections on a Lifetime of Building (1992–2013)


From 1956 to 1992—except for three Army years—I worked continuously in California homebuilding, rising from 14-year-old apprentice to executive managing major portfolios. After 1992, I pursued cowboy folk art (Molesworth-inspired furniture) while doing part-time consulting: expert witness work, land planning, and construction management for homeowners associations, banks, and real estate attorneys.



Post-2008, I briefly worked with foreclosed properties, but the human toll proved too disheartening. In 2013, at 71, I let my B-1 General Contractor’s license expire and retired fully.


Looking back, the greatest joys came not from boardrooms but from the hands-on work—standing back at the end of a day to see a new structure rising, knowing it would shelter families for generations. Through booms and busts, I helped shape California’s landscape, one home at a time. That legacy of craftsmanship, perseverance, and community-building is what I hope you carry forward, grandsons. Build well, work honestly, and take pride in what your hands create.



George Washington and Madame Moose

 


Madame Moose was one of George Washington’s coach dogs—a Dalmatian—and a charming footnote in the life of America’s first president. 


In the late 18th century, before automobiles or even widespread railroads, wealthy and prominent people traveled by horse-drawn carriage. Dalmatians (then often called “coach dogs” or “carriage dogs”) were prized companions for these journeys. They trotted alongside or near the horses with remarkable endurance, formed strong bonds with the team, helped deter thieves or stray dogs, and added prestige to the equipage. Their spotted coats stood out dramatically against the road dust and carriage paint—a living fashion accessory with practical benefits.


Acquiring Madame Moose


In 1786, while retired from the Revolutionary War and managing his Mount Vernon plantation in Virginia (but before his presidency), George Washington paid 12 shillings for a Dalmatian bitch he named Madame Moose. This was a notable expense and deliberate choice. Washington was an avid dog breeder and enthusiast who owned dozens of dogs over his lifetime—mostly hounds for fox hunting, but also other working and companion breeds. He kept careful records of their care, breeding, and even their escapades. 


Madame Moose quickly became part of the household. She likely ran alongside Washington’s carriages on trips around the estate or to nearby plantations, her black (or liver) spots flashing as she kept pace with the horses. Dalmatian lovers today will recognize that classic energy: tireless, athletic, and deeply bonded to “their” people and horses.


The “Amorous Fits” and Breeding


The story gets delightfully human (and canine) the following year. In August 1787, at the urging of his wife Martha Washington, George imported a male Dalmatian from England specifically to breed with Madame Moose. He recorded the arrival in his diary with a mix of practicality, mild exasperation, and wry humor that any dog owner will appreciate:


“A new coach dog [arrived] for the benefit of Madame Moose; her amorous fits should therefore be attended to.”


This single line paints a vivid picture: Madame Moose in full seasonal vigor, making her desires known around Mount Vernon, and the Father of Our Country dutifully arranging a suitor to restore domestic tranquility. It humanizes Washington—he wasn’t just a stoic general and statesman, but a man who noticed (and accommodated) his dog’s “passionate appetite,” as one account puts it.


Why This Story Resonates with Dalmatian Owners


Dalmatians are known for their high energy, strong personalities, and that unmistakable spotted beauty. Madame Moose sounds like a classic example: bold enough to earn the regal (and slightly comical) name “Madame Moose,” spirited enough to need a breeding companion arranged by one of history’s busiest men, and valued enough to be imported and recorded for posterity. Washington was essentially one of America’s earliest documented Dalmatian enthusiasts and breeders. 


Mount Vernon was a bustling working plantation with horses, carriages, livestock, and visitors. Imagine the scene: the spotted coach dog trotting proudly beside the carriage as General Washington rode out, perhaps after a long day overseeing crops or corresponding about the new nation. At home, she would have been part of the lively pack that included famously named hounds like Sweet Lips, Truelove, Tipsy, and others—each with their own personalities that Washington clearly enjoyed observing. 


While we don’t have detailed records of Madame Moose’s puppies or her later life, her mention in Washington’s diary ensures she lives on as a delightful symbol of the president’s affection for dogs. It reminds us that even towering historical figures found joy, humor, and companionship in their pets—just as modern Dalmatian owners do when their spotted friends demand attention, zoom around the yard, or “help” with daily routines.


If you’re a Dalmatian lover, picture Madame Moose as a founding-era ambassador for the breed: elegant yet earthy, energetic yet loyal, and immortalized not for battlefield glory, but for bringing a bit of spirited chaos and unconditional love into the Washington household. Her story is a lovely reminder that the bond between humans and Dalmatians has deep, distinguished roots.


Thank you Grok xAI for your wisdom and this delightful tale. -- Drifting Cowboy


Just in case you don’t know why I’m so interested in Coach Dogs check out the following links:


Friday, December 9, 2011

Cowboy Culture -- Living fifty years with coach dogs

https://a-drifting-cowboy.blogspot.com/2011/12/cowboy-culture-living-fifty-years-with.html

Friday, November 28, 2025

Great Granddad, William Avery, Was a Victorian Coachman

https://a-drifting-cowboy.blogspot.com/2025/11/great-granddad-william-avery-was.html


 

Tuesday, July 14, 2026

Seeking Quietness in Penn's Woods

 


In the mid-17th century, the rolling hills between Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire were a hotbed for religious radicalism. Following the chaos of the English Civil War, George Fox founded the Religious Society of Friends (the Quakers). Many working-class families—weavers, farmers, shoemakers, and yeomen—abandoned the Church of England in search of a direct, inner connection with God.

Among these early converts were Thomas Holland of Millnehay (in the parish of Heanor, Derbyshire) and his family.

By the 1670s, practicing Quakerism in England was dangerous. The Conventicle Acts made non-Anglican religious assemblies illegal, resulting in heavy fines, loss of property, and imprisonment for refusal to pay church tithes or swear oaths.

When Quaker leader William Penn acquired the charter for Pennsylvania in 1681 as a sanctuary for persecuted dissenters, the Hollands and their extended family seized the opportunity. Between late 1682 and 1683, Thomas Holland, his daughter Mary, and his son-in-law John Hallowell packed their belongings, obtained certificates of removal from their local Quaker Monthly Meetings, and boarded a ship for the Delaware River.

Upon arrival, they first settled near Darby (Chester/Delaware County) before pushing slightly north to establish permanent roots in Abington (Montgomery County)—where they cleared land, built timber homes, and established the famous Abington Friends Meeting.



Generation-by-Generation Biographical Notes

GEN 1: Thomas Holland (c. 1616 – 1689)

  • Birth: c. 1616, Minhay / Millnehay (in the parish of Heanor), Derbyshire, England.
  • Death: 9 December 1689, Darby / Delaware County, Pennsylvania.
  • Spouse: Mary Fox (c. 1633 – 1657/1683).

Historical Context & Life Notes:

  • The English Origins: "Minhay" is a historical spelling for Millnehay (Millhay), a hamlet in the Erewash valley near Heanor, Derbyshire. Thomas was a yeoman farmer/tradesman in this region.
  • Quaker Conviction: The Mansfield and Derby Monthly Meeting records show that Thomas Holland and his wife Mary were steadfast Quakers by the 1670s. When their daughter Mary married John Hallowell in 1675, Thomas and Mary provided a written certificate of parental consent to the Mansfield Meeting.
  • The Immigration (1682/1683): Thomas Holland immigrated to Pennsylvania during the peak period of William Penn’s "Holy Experiment." He traveled along with or shortly after his son-in-law John Hallowell and daughter Mary.
  • Life in Pennsylvania: Settling in the Darby area, Thomas lived out his final years among the early Quaker pioneers of Chester (now Delaware) County, dying in late 1689.

GEN 2: Mary Sarah Holland (1651 – 1701)

  • Birth: 8 February 1651, Millnehay, Derbyshire, England.
  • Death: 11 November 1701, Abington, Montgomery County, Pennsylvania.
  • Spouse: John Hallowell (c. 1647 – 1706). Married 27 December 1675 at Mansfield Quaker Meeting, Nottinghamshire.

Historical Context & Life Notes:

  • Marriage Record: The entry in the Minutes of the Quarterly Meeting at Mansfield (dated 27th of 10th month [December] 1675) reads:
    "John Hallowell of Hucknall, Nottinghamshire, and Mary Holland of Millnepney, in Derbyshire, declared their intention of marriage."
  • Emigration & Certificate: John and Mary Hallowell were granted a Quaker Certificate of Removal from the Derby Monthly Meeting on 19 December 1682. The certificate testified to their honest character:
  • "He being within ye compas Meetinge... we know concerning him, of his behaviour & manner of Life... which has been so we know soberly, and honestly..."
  • Settling Abington: After landing in Pennsylvania, the family initially lived at Darby, where John worked as a land-clearing farmer and builder. In 1696, John purchased 630 acres of wilderness land in Abington Township (now modern Glenside/Abington area). He initially built a stone and timber dug-out/cabin against a hillside where the family lived while establishing their farm.
  • Legacy: Mary survived the hardship of crossing the Atlantic and building two pioneer homesteads from scratch before her passing in 1701 in Abington.

GEN 3: Thomas Hallowell (1679 – 1734)

  • Birth: 6 July 1679 (6th day, 5th month 1679), Hucknall Torkard, Nottinghamshire, England.
  • Death: 14 December 1734, Abington, Montgomery County, Pennsylvania.
  • Spouse: Rosamond Till (1677 – 1745). Married 12 March 1701 at Darby Monthly Meeting, Pennsylvania.

Historical Context & Life Notes:

  • Childhood Voyage: Thomas was just a 3- or 4-year-old toddler when his parents (John Hallowell and Mary Holland) made the dangerous Atlantic crossing in 1682/1683.
  • Building Colonial Pennsylvania: Growing up on the family lands in Abington, Thomas became a prosperous farmer, landholder, and active member of the Abington Friends Meeting.
  • The Next Generation: His marriage to Rosamond Till connected the family to another prominent Quaker immigrant line (the Tills of Staffordshire). Their children—including William Hallowell (1707–1793), who married Margaret Tyson—went on to become influential millers, blacksmiths, and landowners along the historic Old York Road leading into Philadelphia.

Research & Name Notes

  1. Millnehay Location: In early Quaker records, "Millnepney," "Minhay," and "Millnehay" all refer to Millhay/Millnehay, a small settlement in Derbyshire right on the Nottinghamshire border.
  2. Calendar Reminder: Early Quaker records used the Julian calendar (where March was the 1st Month). When reading dates like "27 10mo 1675," the 10th month was December, not October.

Thank you Gemini AI for your wisdom and research assistance. -- Drifting Cowboy


Hello Olivia, I hope you make the connection.




Monday, July 13, 2026

Algorithms vs. Ancestry: Uncovering Our Real Connection to President Thomas Jefferson

 


Regular readers of this blog know I’ve always had a deep appreciation for the tapestry of early American history. Among the Founding Fathers, President Thomas Jefferson has always stood out to me. Beyond his role as the primary author of the Declaration of Independence, the visionary behind the Louisiana Purchase, and the champion of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, he was an architect, polymath, and key figure in shaping the American experiment.

When hints pop up in online databases suggesting a close family connection to a figure like Jefferson, it’s always exciting. But as any seasoned family historian knows, you have to separate the enthusiasm of automated computer algorithms from the hard truth of the actual paper trail.

Recently, I decided to put our alleged connection to Thomas Jefferson under the genealogical microscope. What I found was a great lesson in why we double-check the receipts—and how our real connection turned out to be far more fascinating.

The "5th Cousin" Myth and Algorithmic Trap

Not long ago, automated hints on family tree platforms began pointing to a seemingly quick shortcut between our family and Jefferson. The algorithm claimed we were 5th cousins, 8x removed, linked through a colonial New England ancestor named William Brett and a crossover in the Hayward family of Massachusetts.

It sounded great on paper, but when you dig into 18th-century town records, the shortcuts start to crumble:

  1. The Hayward Conflation: Colonial Massachusetts was full of families with the exact same names living just a few miles apart. The algorithm had merged two completely different men named Joseph Hayward—one from Concord and one from Braintree.
  2. Virginia Tree Errors: On Jefferson’s side, the automated tree incorrectly assigned parents to Henry Isham of Virginia and skipped an entire generation involving the famous Randolph family of Turkey Island.
  3. Unproven Links: Connecting our ancestor Zephaniah Rogers (born in Mendon, MA, in 1746) back through the Plymouth/Bridgewater Hayward lines simply didn't hold up under strict record analysis.

In genealogy, an unproven link breaks the chain. Computer algorithms love to connect dots based on matching names and overlapping dates, but true family history requires proving every single link.

Our Real Connection: The Royal Bridge Across the Atlantic

Once we set aside the broken shortcut, we turned to our verified paper trail—specifically through my grandmother, Lydia Corinna Brown.

Following her line back through documented colonial land deeds, probate records, and peerage history, we don't cross paths with Jefferson in the tobacco fields of colonial Virginia. Instead, our lines merge across the ocean in 14th-century England.


Our shared ancestors are John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster (1340–1399)—the son of King Edward III—and his wife, Katherine Swynford.


                    John of Gaunt & Katherine Swynford

                                      

         ┌──────────────────────────────────┐

                                                            

    Joan Beaufort                                         John Beaufort

                                                            

         (Through Randolph line)                    (Through Urquhart/Brown line)

  Jane Randolph                                        Lydia Corinna Brown

                                                            

  Thomas Jefferson                                     Our Family Lineage


Here is how the sibling branches split:

  • Thomas Jefferson’s Line: Descends through their daughter, Joan Beaufort (c. 1379–1440), whose lineage leads directly into the prominent Randolph family of Virginia, bringing us down to Jefferson's mother, Jane Randolph.
  • Our Family's Line: Descends through her full brother, John Beaufort, 1st Earl of Somerset (c. 1373–1410), whose descendants eventually crossed the Atlantic to plant our own roots in early New England.

Because Joan Beaufort and John Beaufort were full siblings, John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford are our shared direct ancestors.

This makes President Thomas Jefferson our 12th cousin, 7x removed.

Reflections from the Trail

While being 12th cousins isn't quite as close as a 5th cousin match, it carries something far more valuable: it is historically solid.

Every step along the Beaufort-to-Brown line is backed by centuries of established, peer-reviewed records. We may not share recent Virginia soil with the author of the Declaration of Independence, but knowing that our family tree intertwines with his back at the same medieval English hearth makes American history feel just a little more personal.

Genealogy isn't about collecting famous names just to add them to a chart—it's about honoring the truth of where we come from. The next time an automated hint pops up promising a famous relative, take it with a grain of salt, roll up your sleeves, and follow the real trail!

Happy trails and happy hunting to all my fellow family historians out there.

Thank you Gemini AI for your wisdom and research assistance. -- Drifting Cowboy