The journalists behind the story of Black landowners who played important – but erased – roles in California’s Gold Rush show how they re-examined a history we thought we knew

Words by Ricardo Sandoval-Palos, @ricsandr. Photos by Zaydee Sanchez, @zaydee_s.

In May of 2021, palabra published a story about a plan by the city of Evanston, Illinois to pay reparations to Black residents who suffered housing discrimination in the city, between 1919 and 1969.

It was one plan, in one small city. But it was evidence of official action, finally, to address the institutionalized racism that throughout the history of the United States has robbed many Black people of land and potential wealth.

The key to action in Evanston was a collection of 80-year-old federal government maps that arbitrarily labeled certain Black neighborhoods as “hazardous” and “risky” for lenders who then engaged in redlining, making loans difficult and holding hair-triggers ready for home foreclosures.

Not long after the Evanston story, two other palabra contributors, Abraham Marquez and Zaydee Sanchez had begun mining archives to solve another real estate mystery: How was it that the state of California had come to own certain properties in the Sierra foothills town of Coloma that became the popular Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park? The park is a monument to the iconic Gold Rush that touched off an economic explosion and put California on the path to becoming the nation’s richest state.

With journalist Charles Bennett, Sanchez interviewed dozens of sources and examined original deeds, documents, and archival newspaper clippings. They reviewed the story of twin brothers Johnathan and Matthew Burgess, who believe their family-owned half the park, and question the eminent domain action that turned it into the historical monument. (Marquez stepped away from the project because of his work on another, ongoing project for palabra.)

*Mathew (left) and Jonathan (right) Burgess stand at the Marshall Gold Discovery State Park's cemetery in Coloma, California. Photo by Zaydee Sanchez for palabra.*

A history untold

The story Sanchez and Bennett were researching then won the interest of former palabra contributor, Nancy San Martin, who had just become Deputy Managing Editor for History and Culture at National Geographic.

The result of months of research was published this week on National Geographic’s website. It’s the kind of collaboration among independent journalists and established publishers that are part of the palabra mission.

The story details Jonathan and Matthew’s long assertion of the family’s claim on the Coloma property.

So how did Burgess and dozens of other Black landowners lose their lands and get erased from California’s Gold Rush history? (In the park’s literature, there is no indication that Rufus M. Burgess and dozens of other Black families were critical to developing the Coloma community.)

*Gravesite of Rufus M. Burgess at Marshall Gold Discovery State Park cemetery. N.B initials were added by Jonathan Burgess's mother in remembrance of Nelson Bell. Photo by Zaydee Sanchez for palabra.*

The first Burgess to settle in the area that became Coloma was Rufus Burgess, Sr., who the Burgess family believes carried the slave name Nelson Bell and had traveled from the South to California’s gold country with his owner. The twin brothers believe Burgess Sr. had earned enough from gold mining to buy his own freedom and that of his son, who was living in Kentucky.

Not long after arriving in California as a free man, the younger Rufus Burgess mined gold, acquired land, and then opened Coloma’s blacksmith shop. He went on to help establish an American Methodist Episcopal Church in Coloma and launch a school to educate the children of dozens of former slaves.

“For the Burgess family, the narrative told by the park in the form of public tours and other documentation conflicts with their own oral history, deeds, and letters passed down by their ancestors. To their chagrin, there is no formal acknowledgment of the family’s ties to the land and no reparations are currently underway,” Sanchez and Bennett write in their National Geographic story.

Land once owned by the Burgess family was seized via eminent domain by the state in 1949 and cleared to make way for the Gold Rush park.

Jonathan Burgess walks up to the Emmanuel Church at the Marshall Gold Discovery State Park in Coloma, California. The Burgess family believes the Emmanuel Church was owned by their family. But park state officials do not recognize the Emmanuel Church as having ever been owned by the Burgess family. Photo by Zaydee Sanchez for palabra.

California park officials had been in communication with the family. And recently, new land that was owned by Rufus M. Burgess was discovered. That finding prompted officials to say, “State Parks is in the process of reviewing the newly discovered information from local historian Jeff Lee. The district will provide an update to the public when it becomes available."

The Burgess controversy follows legislation last year that returned ownership of what’s known as Bruce Beach in Southern California - property seized in 1929, also by eminent domain - to a Black family.

As the National Geographic story was published, Sanchez and Bennett paused briefly to answer questions from palabra about the project’s genesis and their reporting:

Challenging accepted history

palabra: We understand this project was a team effort. How did it come about?

Zaydee Sanchez: Our colleague and regular palabra contributor, Abraham Marquez, was contacted by journalist Theresa Sullivan, who told him about the Burgess family. We all then quickly set up an interview with the Burgess Brothers.

Charles Bennett: I was brought on by Zaydee and Abraham. The story was very intriguing and I was excited and grateful at the opportunity to collaborate with Abraham and Zaydee in reporting on an issue that seems ever pertinent in these times.

Knowing the history of the United States in regards to land ownership and land being stolen, and seeing the recent revelations with Bruce Beach (near Los Angeles) and the history of institutional discrimination against Black farmers, this story seemed to me very important to cover and be given its due diligence.

*Portrait of Jonathan Burgess at Marshall Gold Discovery State Park. Photo by Zaydee Sanchez for palabra.*

palabra: What was it that sold you on this story; that convinced you this family’s story needed to be told?

Bennett: Before this, I was unfamiliar with the history of Black landowners during the Gold Rush and the part they played in this epic story that has been told to us so many times. We’ve heard it in schools and history books, but never in regards to people of color and our place in this history.

We discovered not only the stories of Black landowners during the Gold Rush but what became of them and how that speaks to the broader concerns of injustice and inequality that continue to this day. I saw this as a chance to not only learn and explore the facts about the Gold Rush, beyond what we were told in school, and about Black ownership in California history. It was an opportunity to further publicize the injustices that have stifled Black ownership in California and this nation.

*Mathew Burgess (right) removes weed from Rufus M Burgess's tombstone at the Marshall Gold Discovery State Park cemetery. Photo by Zaydee Sanchez for palabra.*

Sanchez: The first interview we had with Jonathan and Matthew Burgess did it for me. I knew that no matter where the story took us, these two Brothers were a story of their own. Their drive and determination to have their family legacy recognized is inspiring. Here are two individuals who will not stop, no matter the barriers. They have become their own investigators, journalists, historians, in the journey toward having their family’s legacy told truthfully. The twins are a force to be reckoned with.

The moment I understood the narrative that was being left out of the history we all thought we knew – of Black landowners during the Gold Rush – I knew I needed to tell this story.

palabra: What are the lessons learned for you? The things that now stay with you after many months of reporting?

Bennett: It’s important to understand how we got here in the first place. There are reasons why we have social inequality in America.

The low homeownership for Black people in America is not coincidental. Whether it be redlining, blockbusting, or eminent domain, there have been constant attempts to undermine Black progress in America. It cannot continue to be swept under the rug. So much hidden history of injustices is being unveiled and with more revelations like the Burgess family history, and like Bruce Beach, we can look toward reconciliation and reparations.

In order to even the playing field we have to understand why we have one in the first place, and then rewrite the wrongs done to so many people in the course of United States history.

Sanchez: The question of timing is something that always itches my skin.

This story is as important now as it was yesterday or 50, 60 years ago. The difference today is that we are beginning to understand and correct the misrepresentation of Black people in our history. This generation is forcing the present and the past to be dealt with – as uncomfortable as it may be to some.

Questioning who writes our history is long overdue. We continue to see that certain Black narratives, like prosperous Black landowners, were left out of the history we’re all supposed to accept. Recently, we have seen the country’s institutions being held accountable. But we still have a long way to go. It is our responsibility as journalists to keep telling stories like the Burgess claim in order to challenge the narrative and continue to push for a reckoning with the truth.

Many of our questions were answered with “I don’t know … I wasn’t there.”

palabra: This appears to have been a difficult story to research. What were some of the barriers you had to overcome?

Bennett: There were many barriers, including the desire to tell this story the right way.

We’re talking here about 150 years of history, starting with the Gold Rush. Retrieving documents and deeds from that time period and keeping track of them up until the present time was challenging. We’re grateful to the Burgess family for providing everything they had on their family history and giving us insight into their fight for recognition. They gave us a wealth of information, as did historians in California who we sought out.

Getting information from the (California state parks system) proved to be quite a barrier as well. No one seemed to want to take accountability for the lack of recognition of the Burgess family story.

If you speak with park officials or long-time local residents, Rufus Burgess was a known prominent figure in Coloma during and after the Gold Rush. Yet you won’t know that after touring the park. Why? Our story explores that question.

It was difficult getting concrete information concerning land owned by the Burgess family and other Black citizens in Coloma. We’re still not satisfied with the answers we received.

The tombstone of Nelson Bell sits at the Marshall Gold Discovery State Park in Coloma, California. The Burgess family believes Nelson Bell was the enslaved name of Rufus Burgess Sr. Photo by Zaydee Sanchez for palabra.

Sanchez: For example, many of our questions were answered with “I don’t know … I wasn’t there.”

When we asked about Jonathan and Matthew’s mother’s dispute with the state park system, there seemed to be no sense of responsibility or accountability.

Another barrier was with the state’s reliance on just one historian – not even a state historian – to talk about how the gold rush park’s history was written, and by whom. The state’s response was, “A set of diverse historians and scholars.” Yet, all

questions of Black history at the park were referred by the state to Jeff Lee, a neighbor of the park and member of The Marshall Gold Discovery Park Association.

Confusingly, state park officials made it clear Mr. Lee was not representing them, even though they had invited him to speak.

You can say that, in a way, none of the barriers we encountered were removed. It was more like we had to find a way to work around them.

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