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UER Forum > US: Pacific Southwest > The Randolph Estate (Viewed 3880 times)
azuro1125 


Location: Passing Oaks
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The Randolph Estate
< on 5/23/2015 6:40 AM >
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This is the main house of the Randolph Estate Vineyard and Winery. It dates back to the late 1800's, when the Mennonite people moved into the hills West of Paso Robles. The preferred agriculture of the time was cattle, with the sprawling amber hills serving as a never ending buffet to the lazing, sedentary animals. 1.

The proprietor of the Randolph Winery, Orly Westington Randolph, was a wanderlust trust fund baby who came from East Coast old money. The story goes that he was shipped out West by his perpetually disappointed father in order to start the family's interests in the blooming agribusinesses that were springing up in the state of California. A well heeled, wealthy upbringing left Orly as a spoiled man child of sorts, married to a beautiful blonde Rhode Island girl who was herself from petroleum money. They made the arduous move across the rails with their young daughter and son. His wife, Rachel and their two children Abigail and Thomas felt the trip was a real adventure. After disobeying his father one last time to invest in local mercury mining schemes, Orly did finally settle into a nice plot of land recently cleared of Salinan Indians by the local Spaniards. Mortar and pestles, a well as crudely made weapons littered the hilltop where the cornerstones of his opulent house would eventually go.
2.

Always an adventurer, Orly felt it would be best to cash in on the local fervor that was being stirred up by the famed visiting pianist Ignas Padeverski. This man had popularized the idea that the town and surrounding hills of Paso Robles were exact copies of the Mediterranean hills of Italy, and such would bare similar grape yields. Local ranchers thought the arrogant man was both insane and foolish to try such a stunt. The prominent oak trees of the region left any woody fruit plants susceptible to Oak Root Rot, a festering spore that turned the grapes themselves into leaking and infected globs of decay.
3.

While sitting on his spacious veranda with the noted pianist, they sipped an imported Cabernet from Tuscany and decided to go ahead with the vineyard anyway. A formal partnership was signed, the document still hangs on the wall of the Paso Robles City Council main chamber. Spanish field workers unloaded the bundled, bare root grape vines from rail cars and trucked them up to the estate via their mule drawn carts.
4.

The local Mennonite peoples had taken to enlisting the indigent natives as a sort of free(slave) manual labor. Such feats of labor were seen as a way of taming the local savages, and giving them a task to perform, if not for no money. Things such as rock walls, irrigation trenches and road building were heaped upon the gentle, if not ignorant tribesmen and women. Spaniards on horseback would whip the sullen ones who felt like partaking in sweat lodges instead of using soap. Death was common, but disregarded.
5.

Rumor has it that the Estate driveway was graded and paved by these native men and women. The hands of their children were used to sift the fine local gravel into a baby smooth pathway for the Randolph's army of carriages and the town's single motor car owned by Orly himself.

6.
Things continued on like they do in most rich families. The vineyard grew and matured, producing the best wine grapes in the whole United States. Farm labor was had cheap by the local native populace, if not a little unwillingly at times. There was a story from the San Miguel Mission of a young tribeswoman who had been tied to a tree and whipped until she passed out from the pain. These things were seen a necessary by the missionaries to keep the Indians in check so they could keep harvesting the grapes from the Randolph's, now all encompassing, vineyard.

7.

Money was had hand over foot, and Even Ignas took up semi permanent residence in the Randolph's guest house. His five thousand dollar Ivory Mays grand piano was left as a permanent anchor to ensure his perpetual return to the estate and it's landholders. He himself had become little more than an organ grinder for their rich and eccentric tastes.
8.

The children grew to be attractive young people. Fresh in the arms of late adolescence, Abigail and Tomas were absorbed into the growing social scene that was exploding in Paso Robles. The money that was had by the vineyards splashed out into the local population. Other vineyards and related business overtook the growing town. Cattle ranchers heeded to the local enologists as if they were royalty. Carts would be halted, and yammering children quieted as the vintners passed by with arrogant flair.
9.

One night, a drunken Orly clipped a young Mexican boy with his 1901 Autocar. The bleeding boy lay still on the road. The constabulary would ensure that the wine mogul would be kept safe from scrutiny. The boy was left in a ditch to be found by passing Indians. Local record does not show if the boy ever lived.
10.

Abigail, the little blonde haired doll of the Randolph bloodline, ran into troubles with the various sins now available in the growing city. Not one for a barbarian pastime such a drink, the beautiful debutante found more exotic things to put in her body. Hashish from Saudi Arabia, the finest Opium carted in by visiting tea ships, as well as a host of pills and potions relieved from her mother, Rachel. Substance abuse was seen as a womanly escape by the Randolph women, and innocent Abigail had the perfect role model for this in her mother.
11.

The money would never stop. For once, Orly's father was proud of his son. Bringing in enough money to secure his father a seat in the California Assembly. Laws could now be laid like so much roadwork for the family's various interests.

12.

Sometime around 1906, things turned for the family. Locals say it was a curse that was uttered by a beautiful, young native woman as she was raped by Tomas and his drunken friends. Rumors are all that are left of that story, since the police were all too eager to cover up the story and chase of the remainder of the savages still in the area. The good fortune dried up like the deep wells used to shower the thirsty grapes.
13.

First to go was Tomas. One night, he was stabbed by a passing vagrant when he exited a bar in the lobby of the Hot Springs Hotel. Although the case was investigated fervently, they never truly found the vagrant. To sate the family’s blood lust for revenge, the police offered up a local Armenian rug trader as the least possible but still guilty party. A thick, braided rope of manila was tossed over the branch of the city's last big oak tree, and the man swung from it until his cries of innocence were silenced. Local record shows this as the only death to ever occur at the Paso Robles City Park.
14.

Next up would be that adventurous, young socialite Abigail. The attractive girl who sullied her name and body with all manner of chemicals and company would meet a fitting, if not odd fate. In grade school, Abigail had taken to picking on a quiet girl with red hair and stout frame. Words would give way to fisticuffs as her group of friends would taunt the Mennonite girl well past tears. Oddly enough, the girl went on to become the teenage wife to a local cattle rancher. The older man treated his beautiful, yet quiet, young bride like a princess and she found true happiness.
15.

One day, Abigail had crashed her father's car on the way back from an opera performance in the distant town of San Luis Obispo. Her elegant gown covered in mud and cow dung, her face bloodied from the impact with the wooden dash of her father's “borrowed” car, she stumbled toward the light of a nearby ranch house. Her flowing satin gown, as well as her inebriation, served to only encumber her more. She banged on the door, her hands leaving watery, muddy streaks on the white surface. Her yelling and hollering was met with a double barrel shotgun blast to the chest delivered by coincidence from that same red headed girl, frightened by this apparition screaming at her on her doorstep. Random fate had rejoined the two girls this one last time for Abigail's departure from the living. Police were apt to try and cover up the incident and make it look like a murder, but the Randolph family was still reeling from the loss of Tomas and no longer cared.
16.

Lastly, the attractive matron of the Randolph family would end the whole story in a spectacular fashion. In all of Ignas' visits to the house, Orly never suspected that there was a long running affair between his part time/live in pianist and his attractive wife. All of the lustful looks across the populated dinner parties had gone unnoticed by the wine mogul, and he was blissful in his ignorance until he returned early from a trip one day. Laying in his bed was the once-famous pianist, and his nude wife entwined in a guilty embrace. The man could take no more. Forensic technology of the day was lacking to say the least, but the official record is that Orly and Rachel argued violently, until she grabbed a paring knife from the servant's kitchen and stabbed Orly. He was found clutching his chest, damaged both physically as well as emotionally.
17.

After cheering for his adulteress, Ignas and Rachel began to fight as well. This ended with Rachel turning the blade on her clandestine beau. While he lay there bleeding on the thick, white sheets Rachel bid this world goodbye and drew the blade across her alabaster wrists. People say that when the light hits the remaining flooring just right, you can still see the stains where their blood pooled into the shape of a heart.
18.

This house stood for a long time. It was built with the fruit of the earth, and the souls that lived in it fermented just like the grapes that made such bittersweet liquor. In wine making, it's not uncommon for an entire barrel of wine to turn bad for no reason. Everything can be done right, but the barrel will produce nothing but foul, purple vinegar. The Randolph family was simply just a bad barrel. Perhaps exploits and excess tainted it, but we will never know.

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Alright, I have to apologize to everyone. I MADE ALL OF THAT UP! It's basically just a piece of speculative fiction based on this old house I used to pass on the way to the beach. There is still a winery on the property, but everything else is made up. Otherwise, that would be really sad. Here is a black obelisk selfie:
47.





"I'm just not set up to mold hard rubber..."
Explorer Zero 


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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 1 on 5/23/2015 5:35 PM >
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#10 exploring old buildings in flip flops?




azuro1125 


Location: Passing Oaks
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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 2 on 5/24/2015 2:29 AM >
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All of my best bad ideas involve flip flops.

I have another post here where I did a rural explore and one of my flip flops broke. I cobbled together a fix made out of baling wire and a Gatorade wrapper:

http://www.uer.ca/...=1&threadid=115869





"I'm just not set up to mold hard rubber..."
ChasGirl 


Location: Charleston, SC
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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 3 on 5/27/2015 12:35 PM >
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I love this post...even if the story is not true, it made for a fascinating read!




azuro1125 


Location: Passing Oaks
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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 4 on 5/27/2015 4:25 PM >
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Ha, thanks! That's what happens when I don't sleep enough. My mind starts weaving complex historical dramas. Most of the minor details in it are real, historical facts. I just mixed them up, added some characters and hit frappe : )

On a side note, there is nothing holding that place up! I had to step around like a ninja to keep from knocking over a wall or falling into the basement.




"I'm just not set up to mold hard rubber..."
Herm 


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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 5 on 5/28/2015 12:04 AM >
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Great pictures and story. It seemed very believable. I quite enjoyed it




Ganesha 

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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 6 on 5/28/2015 1:30 AM >
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Great fiction, and well illustrated. I loved it.




"The beauty of mediocrity is that anything can make you better." -Jeff Mallett
Explorer Zero 


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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 7 on 5/28/2015 9:53 PM >
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Posted by azuro1125
All of my best bad ideas involve flip flops.

I have another post here where I did a rural explore and one of my flip flops broke. I cobbled together a fix made out of baling wire and a Gatorade wrapper:

http://www.uer.ca/...=1&threadid=115869




nice shots,

youre a brave fellow I have bad dreams about being in collapsed or blown up buildings without my Vibram sole boots..




azuro1125 


Location: Passing Oaks
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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 8 on 5/29/2015 1:15 PM >
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Ah, Vibram soles are the best! I remember saving up for three months as a teen for my Solomon trekking boots with that neat little yellow logo on the bottom.

Oddly enough, I think I had more common sense as a teenager than I do now!





"I'm just not set up to mold hard rubber..."
Landser 


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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 9 on 9/17/2015 7:03 PM >
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Beautiful location with no vandalism. Really shows you what it would look like if the Earth tried reclaiming civilization..not that I want that to happen!




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siper 


Location: SF, CA
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"His hand upon her breast, he knew today meant death."

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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 10 on 9/18/2015 12:00 AM >
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Haha from flips flops to complete bullshit. This thread has all I need. Bravo!




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FastEddy 


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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 11 on 9/18/2015 1:25 AM >
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Yeah! The story was riveting!




lookingintoit 


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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 12 on 9/18/2015 3:26 AM >
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Nice pix!
Helluva yarn!




cr400 


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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 13 on 12/8/2015 9:17 PM >
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Read every word...... Loved it. Phoney or not!!




You can see a million miles tonite, but you can't get very far.

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azuro1125 


Location: Passing Oaks
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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 14 on 12/9/2015 4:58 PM >
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Posted by cr400
Read every word...... Loved it. Phoney or not!!



Thanks!




"I'm just not set up to mold hard rubber..."
azuro1125 


Location: Passing Oaks
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Total Likes: 113 likes




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Re: The Randolph Estate
< Reply # 15 on 12/9/2015 5:00 PM >
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Posted by siper
Haha from flips flops to complete bullshit. This thread has all I need. Bravo!



"From Flip Flops to Complete Bullshit" is gonna be the title of my biography : )




"I'm just not set up to mold hard rubber..."
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