"Chinatown Tunnels Still a Mystery"
by Elaine Corning
At night the stories say, their barges would glide noiselessly below the single street of Red Bluff Chinatown. Paper boxes of opium, thrown to the waiting Chinamen on shore were hastily slipped inside one of the several tunnels dotting the river’s steep and shrub-covered edge. As quietly as they had come, they left.
Inside their crowded shanties below in their cellars and in their tunnels, a second Red Bluff emerged. A place of gambling, women and opium; and a hidden refuge from foolish prejudice.
“We can’t deny our folklore” smiled Red Bluff High School history teacher Andrew Osborne. Though history has and will always have its romantic distortions. Chinatown legends…perhaps more specifically its tunnels…hold a semblance of authenticity.
The reasons for and against whether these tunnels really existed weigh heavily upon the fact that time has its way of reshaping its stories by those mesmerized by a colorful past. The tunnels of Chinatown have appealed mightily to eager imaginations with the possible exception of the Chinese themselves. That curious and exotic picture of their lives which prevailed in white society at the turn of the century has all but left a sense of resentment, however justified.
Red Bluff’s Chinatown covered an estimated area of four blocks of Rio Street (what was High Street) having one end at Cedar and the other at Oak. The 2000 to 3000 Chinamen who lived in the community from the 1860’s to the early 1960’s worked and died in their small shanties and numerous wash houses and restaurants.
If at first the Chinese were welcomed on California shores hostilities replaced the brief good feelings as thousands of immigrating Chinamen glutted the mining jobs offering hard work for little wages. The Foreign Miner’s License Law enacted in 1850 was enforced in the hopes of discouraging the flow. Concentrated at the Chinese, the miners were made to pay a tax of $2 a month for the right to mine. In 1853 it was raised to $4 and in 1855 to $6 and $2 each the following year.
In time, hostility in the form of prejudice resulted in open insult to “John Chinaman.” Its notorious climax came with the “pig tail ordinance” requiring convicted Chinese men to cut their queues off (long braid of hair) within one inch at their heads.
The pressure in Red Bluff was mounting. Sadly enough, local newspapers namely the “Independent” and “Tehama Tocsin,” began to reflect the prejudiced feelings of their readers with one-sided reporting:
“It looks a little strange to us (Sentinel) to see business concerns and manufacturing establishments employing heathen Chinese in responsible places instead of white labor. The people of Red Bluff should refuse to eat or use the articles manufactured by these people. “
(Sentinel, February 17, 1877)
“If the same number of American citizens gathered together and made such unearthly noises (referring to the Chinese New Year celebration; they would all be arrested for disturbing the peace of the community probably fined a round sum or put in jail. But a Chinaman can make any amount of noise and remain unmolested.” (Tehama Toscin, January 25, 1879)
It was in 1886 when local pressures saw the forming of three anti-Chinese clubs. The Anti-Coolie League, Anti-Chinese Society and the Law and Order Anti-Chinese Society. Boycotting was the main activity, save the Law and Order group who attempted to ease the strain with a more conservative approach. Nonetheless, during their brief reign they resorted to torchlight processions to frighten the Chinamen from town.
As soon as it was known that the Club (Anti-Coolie League) was marching on Chinatown, the citizens swarmed out of their houses into the streets until the sidewalks along the line of march were thronged wit men, women and children.
“There must have been at least 2000 people on the streets and still there was no disturbance of any kind, not even loud or boisterous talking.” (Sentinel, February 13, 1866)
Perhaps then, the fear from the unpredictable nature of prejudice and the assurance of safe traveling led the construction of local Chinese tunnels. So believes, longtime resident Dan Bayles. “The Chinese were afraid of the white people,” said Bayles. “And they didn’t go out at night except through these tunnels.”
As a young man in 1927, Bayles was employed as a plumber for Allen and Allen. He recalls at length, his first encounter with a tunnel while laying water pipes underneath the 600 block of Main Street.
“I was working in the basement of Trede’s Pool Hall (now the Christian Book Store),” recalled Bayles. “The tunnel ran underneath Main and went toward Lyon and Garrett, Brooks and in through that direction. We found it again at what was then the A&W Root Beer Stand, next door to Trede’s and we ran water pipes and sewer lines through these tunnels.”
“We noticed as we got over toward Lyon and Garrett and Brooks they were almost big enough to walk through. The one at Trede’s we almost had to crawl.”
“The reason we knew they were Chinese tunnels is because my grandfather and my father both knew where these tunnels were and where they went and why they were put there.”
Bayles further recalled tunnels exist at the river’s edge; these tunnels and other passageways he traveled through dug from the hard clay, had no supports in the way of wood or brick.
Ironically, and wistfully Bayles concluded: “When I was young and working in these tunnels, I never gave it a second thought. There just wasn’t any interest because everyone knew about them. Of course now, if I had the chance I would really like to go through them again.”
The say the tunnels are “the adventurous tales of the white and the tiresome curse of the Chinese.” The phrase is well considered. Certainly, a foremost argument is the enormous amount of dirt that needed to be redeposited. According to local herb doctor Cahoone Yuen, a third generation Chinese-American whose grandfather immigrated to Red Bluff from China in the 1860’s that was a problem.
“If everyone knew of these tunnels, what would be their purpose? These tunnels are engineering feats.”
“Even though hostility was present I feel a tunnel would not be the solution to solve the problem because they did not lead out of town nor would it escape the hostility.”
Of course, Red Bluff had little to do with its companion city, its culture, beliefs and values were not highly thought of; their activities, other than the competition in the job market were of little concern. It is possible, if and when these tunnels were built, that local people seriously believed it to be
Another curiosity, another strange custom brought from their native land. On the same token perhaps they didn’t know until their use was all but abandoned.
Many tunnels unearthed in Red bluff during excavations, particularly in the 50’s have long been thought of as passageways not only from house to house and business to business, but to the river. One such tunnel was found in 1957 by local contractor H. P. Edwards who saw an entrance as his crew was excavating what is now Penney’s parking lot. Underneath a one storied brick building on the location a rooming house in the red light district was a plain hole leading from the cellar, measuring some five-and-one-half feet high. The entrance was filled in an hour.
“Now, said Edwards, “I would have done much more looking.”
Many of these “tunnels,” if not most were extended storage cellars according to Yuen. During the extreme summer heat the cool damp underground air preserved their food as well as affording a livable room during the day. These cellars averaging five feet in height, three to three-and-a-half feet wide could be found under many of the Chinese homes. Unfortunately, their entry ways, perhaps the main passageways have mostly been filled.
Long thought to be a tunnel is an old brick lined drainage ditch on the grounds of the Godboldt residence on Washington Street. The reported tunnel lies underneath an old ivy covered brewery which saw its brief heyday in the 1860’s. A cellar directly below stored cases of alcohol and the ditch is at the bottom of an 11-foot drop from the brewery’s door. Some two feet high, three feet wide, the arched passageway winds some 15 feet before a cave-in. According to Dr. Fred Godboldt, the ditch once emptied its contents in the river in the vicinity of Dog Island.
“A lot of things we don’t know are under the streets of Red Bluff,” said Osborne recently. A notable quote for adding yet another curious angle are the tunnels underneath the corner of Oak and Main Street particularly Kemps, Coast to Coast, the Creamery and the alley behind. Curious because of its lengthy distance from Chinatown and particularly its large size.
A Red Bluffer since 1944, Bill Crawford entered a tunnel near the Creamery and traveled some 300 feet before turning back. Its direction was to the State Theater. The tunnel, some 6 feet high and boasting wood beam supports and a board walkway, held no artifacts in sight. Crawford has his own theory: “I think it was made during the Civil War. It must have been a tunnel for slaves.”
One tunnel in particular, its entrance at Coast to Coast now permanently blocked with an uncertain exit was the recollection of three local men: Bill Kemp, owner of Kemp’s Stationary, Bob Greene, former owner of Metherd’s, now an insurance salesman, and Hurley Barber, a businessman. A Confusing arrangement, another entrance was in the old ambulance shed located in the alley behind Kemps formerly part of Fickert’s Mortuary. The tunnel, “big enough to drive a Jeep through,” according to Barber held a great deal of pipe and an assortment of abandoned tools. Kemp explained, “the mud was pretty thick along Main Street before it was paved. These big tunnels were better (though short in length) to transport goods from store to store to avoid the mud.”
Always a strong argument of the anti-tunnel theorists is that in their investigations, they have found no history of tunnels in large Chinese communities particularly San Francisco’s Chinatown. Unfortunately, these investigations have been confined a great deal to interviewing old time residents second to third generation Chinamen who are possibly reluctant to reveal any knowledge on the subject. Perhaps it can be suggested that they were unaware of their existence simply because the worst of the hostilities had passed at the turn of the century and the need to further the knowledge of the tunnels whereabouts diminished. In addition, the old-timers were small children during the time; it is inconceivable they were expected “to know the secret” passageways.
The exchange of opium, snuggled in from Pacific ships; the heartless slave trade; the preparation of bodies for return to their ancestral grave mounds, the hidden revenges of the highbinders – all went on in these catacombs, 20 feet below the pavement of Oak and Washington streets.
In light of the nation’s 200th. birthday, as well as Red Bluff’s 100th. it could be worth the effort if sufficient funds were met for local research and the restoration of these tunnels, wherever they may exist. Certainly, Red Bluff would be uncovering a most colorful past.