Tom Martin 2
Here is some more on Tom Martin, the Canyon dweller I wrote about in the previous article, who was known by local folks as a hermit, or a jerk, an incredible artist, or a weirdo. I knew him to be an incredible builder with wood and rock, a bit of a hermit, a little odd. I heard he was a jerk to some people, but I never saw that part. He smiled a lot in a shy way and when he got to talking, he talked. He talked incessantly. I guessed he talked like that to make up for the many silent hours he spent alone in his hermit lifestyle. A conversation with Tom was to watch as he verbalized from one stream of consciousness to another. Whatever subject initiated his recital had nothing to do with the middle or the end. Actually, there never was an end. You had to walk away. He still smiled. No offense taken. I listed and sold Tom’s house in the Canyon, the house he built with boulders he collected and hauled from the surrounding countryside. He combined the boulders, some the size of Volkswagens, with wood he milled into beams and finish trim, into the construction of a unique, solid, artistic and attractive home. The exterior was boulders and beams, the interior was wood counters, shelves, and trim, rock and wood wainscoting, and various rock and wood accents throughout. People have described the overall effect as light-hearted; ingenious; incredibly artistic; and never-beendone-before.
Tom made the sale difficult. From time to time, he would remove my Real Estate sign; block the driveway; lock the doors; hide the keys; turn off the power. People saw him run from the scene. They saw him lurking in the brush and behind trees when they were touring the property. Some said he viciously ordered them off the property. Upset Realtors and clients had admonished me enough about my creepy, weird, and jerk of a Seller, that
I had reached the point of cancelling my listing with Tom. But right at that point, a young man named Jim arrived at the property alone. Jim had heard the place was for sale. Tom called me over,
and I witnessed him patiently explain to Jim how the emotions in each boulder directed him to their placement in the construction of the home, and
how the house had become a living being that knew who it could live with. Tom stood up. With a waving gesture he turned in a circle. “This house has energy and emotion that will harmonize with only a few people. This house will be happy with you.”
Jim liked the idea of being chosen by the home. He liked hearing about the emotional boulders. He bought the place and lived there for years. Tom Martin also owned the lot next door, had already built a rock and wood shop there, and began building a new creation of a house, so Jim was also Tom’s next-door neighbor. They lived in harmony. Fast forward a couple or a few decades, and the Camp Fire blasts its way through Butte Creek Canyon in the night, after destroying the Town of Paradise that morning. Tom Martin’s new house, his shop, and the old house he built and we sold to Jim, burn to the ground. Except for the boulders, of course.
My daily drive up and down the Canyon right after the Camp Fire, was a strange and different experience. Scalded landscapes, charred and twisted trees, burnt remnants of houses, fences, and cars; the lonely and exposed creek channel, had replaced the lushness of the drive I had known for thirtysome-odd years.
One immediate sign of hope and determination and newness rose from the ashes of that fire. That sign was the lone figure of Tom Martin. The smoke has barely cleared, and the lone figure of Tom Martin is moving rocks, building a little stone hermit-house. Then come the wood fences with corrugated metal-peaked caps. A terraced and fenced garden with intricate wood trellis, a tool-shed, a pumphouse, new fences running the boundaries of the two-acre property. Daily growth.
Every drive-by, the fresh new construction of Tom Martin’s place provides an emotional lift. I wave in his direction, whether I see him or not. Nothing is shrouded in brush or trees anymore. Sometimes he ducks behind a blackened tree or a fence. But the last time I saw him he raised two arms in the air and waved his hands. The smiling hermit exposed.
Doug Love is Sales Manager at Century 21 in Chico. Email dougwlove@gmail.com. Call or text 530-680-0817.