Volume 90, Number 1 - California Historical Society

George Sterling (1869–1926) recalled his first glimpse of Miller in the late 1880s at the Hights: “We stood and stared,
and staring, made out the form of a man lying propped up on a bed in the nearest cabin. The presence wore a red skullcap.
Yellow hair foamed out on the pillow. It must be our god of the western lyre.” Years later, George Wharton James
(1858–1923) made this photograph of the poet at work in his bed on Christmas Day, 1896, capturing some of the idiosyncrasies
of his lifestyle: his small room with exposed rafters and unstained walls; clippings, photos, letters, and animal
skins coating the walls; the ceiling hung with flags, whips, and arrows; and a stack of unanswered mail next to the bed.
The one constant amidst the clutter was the all-important jug of whiskey under the bed.
Library of Congress; photograph by G. Wharton James
When directed toward his friends, Miller’s hospitality
was warm and welcoming. He appeared
to entertain effortlessly. Among his long list of
prior occupations was that of cook for a camp of
gold miners. Even his estranged Native American
daughter conceded that her father was a good
chef. The importance Miller assigned to food
and meals was indicated in James’s description
of his first visit with Coolbrith to the Hights.
James “solemnized his heart” when the poet at
last revealed the “holy of holies,” pulling back
a pair of beautiful Persian shawls to expose his
greasy stove and kitchen table. His protégée
and live/work assistant Yone Noguchi cited his
pronouncements, “Remember this is a sacred
service” and “Eat slowly, think something higher
and be content.” 34
In pursuit of this contentment and in kind with
its neighboring hardscrabble ranches, the Hights
had its complement of cows and chickens. The
resourceful and frequently cash-strapped poet
foraged for greens and shot local game and fowl.
He fussed over his three small purpose-built
ponds that provided fish and frogs. “Every available
place” was “planted to corn and vegetables,”
while the roadside, as writer and traveler Charles
Warren Stoddard described the drive from
Dimond, yielded watercress. 35 Noguchi recalled
Miller heading out to bag a quail for his mother’s
breakfast but returning with a sparrow. One
guest was disappointed that he was served not
the promised pheasant, but “wild geese fresh
from the wheat field.” He was lucky compared to
the easterners for whom Jack London prepared
rattlesnake under the guise of rabbit. 36
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