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One Ounce Gold Bars

one ounce gold bars

    gold bars
  • (Gold bar) A gold bar is a quantity of refined metallic gold of any shape that is made by a bar producer meeting standard conditions of manufacture, labeling, and record keeping. Larger gold bars that are produced by pouring the molten metal into molds are called ingots.

  • (Gold Bar (Edmonton)) Gold Bar is a residential neighbourhood in south east Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

  • (Gold bar) Gold and other metals are casted into bars in order to store and pile them better. On the bar there's engraved the make of the producer, the fineness and the bar number.

  • a unit of apothecary weight equal to 480 grains or one twelfth of a pound

  • A unit of weight of one sixteenth of a pound avoirdupois (approximately 28 grams)

  • snow leopard: large feline of upland central Asia having long thick whitish fur

  • A unit of one twelfth of a pound troy or apothecaries' measure, equal to 480 grains (approximately 31 grams)

  • A very small amount of something

  • The ounce (abbreviated: oz, the old Italian word onza, now spelled oncia; apothecary symbol: ?) is a unit of mass with several definitions, the most commonly used of which are equal to approximately 28 grams.

Post-Primal 1977

Post-Primal 1977

By 1977 I'd been in Primal Therapy in Austin for three years. Stanley and Carol, our therapists, decided in the spring of '77 to move to Boston; and any of the group's 25-30 patients who wanted to continue with therapy had to make the move too. Most of the group members, myself included, decided to make the trip. I didn't really want to leave Austin, but I was addicted to Primal Therapy: not a day went by that I didn't feel a real need to "primal" (i.e., vent the deep feelings of pain that followed me everywhere) with hours of physically expressed, deeply felt misery. So it was either continue on to Boston and "get well"; or remain home in Austin and stay crazy.

That June six of us out of the 20 or so patients remaining left in a caravan of cars and U-Hauls and spent the night in Texarkana. The next day we made it as far as Memphis, where we spent the night at the home of friends of mine from college, Bill and Lollie Bailey. I hadn't seen either of them since college, and they were politely taken aback by my peculiar stories about group therapy; but overall they were glad to see me. Neither of them thought I needed therapy, but I disagreed. I'd brought 4 ounces of Acapulco gold with me on the trip (which, in case anyone asks, definitely lives up to its reputation) and gave them some before we continued our caravan to Boston.

We stopped in Nashville and had lunch at the Gold Rush, my friend Walter's very popular Elliston Place bar/restaurant. I hadn't seen Walter since I'd left Nashville in '73, and he encouraged me to stay awhile at his apartment behind the Gold Rush and eat for free for as long as I wanted. I liked this idea, so I gave my suitcase to my friends to take to Boston and told them I'd be along later.

Walter took me all over Nashville to see our old friends, took me skiing in his boat, introduced me to cocaine, got me backstage at an Eagles concert, and got me laid almost every night. This was a far cry from the austere life I'd been living in Austin -- our therapists had mandated that we could screw only people in group and discouraged drug use altogether. I'd gone along with the program like a good boy, but I smoked pot now and then. Coke and Quaaludes and heavy drinking weren't part of my life in Austin; in Nashville that's all there was to do.

I couldn't believe how easy it was to get laid in Nashville -- all I had to say to women I'd meet was, hi, I'm a friend of Walter's from Austin and I have four ounces of Acapulco gold; want to go over to Walter's and turn on? No one ever said no.

Walter was good friends with Maggie, my former Nashville girlfriend and love of my life. In his apartment and Gold Rush office he had photos of her with her husband, a guy I'd never met. He had postcards from her pinned above the desk in his Gold Rush office. It was painful to read them -- Maggie was obviously very happy with her life. I was relieved she wasn't in town to see what a miserable wreck I'd turned into.

I spent a week with Walter, but had to move on before Nashville completely sucked me in. Leaving my Acapulco gold with Walter, I hitchhiked to Richmond, Va, to pay a surprise visit to my pal Calhoun; and from there to Washington, DC, where I stayed with my friend Kay and did volunteer work for her NARAL office. My friend Kay later paid for me to take a train from DC to Boston.

After a month on the road visiting friends, I'd concluded that I was stronger psychologically than I'd credited myself with being. I attended one group in Boston, said goodbye to my therapists, and headed home to Austin.

I stopped in Nashville on the way back and stayed with Walter again; but this time things didn't go smoothly for me. Coke was not my drug and it was starting to become evident to my friends. I got paranoid and disoriented frequently. One of Walter's girlfriends mocked me for turning down coke one afternoon, and Walter lit into her, angrily telling her never to insult his friend Will again, ever. After about four days of drinking, doing coke, and taking Quaaludes, I was a basket case and wept in Walter's apartment nonstop for about four hours. The next morning I wrote Walter a note thanking him for everything he'd done for me and headed back to Austin.

A few months after my return I got a letter from Walter saying that he wanted me to send a picture of myself he could show our old Nashville friends. After a few pathetic attempts at self-portraiture, I ate half a Quaalude and had some photos done professionally at a studio in Austin. They turned out well enough that even my mom liked them. I sent some to Walter, but I never heard back from him about them.

The photo above is from the contact sheet and is the only remaining photo from that session. I never was able to find the ones I sent Tiz -- she had one up on a wall in her house for years. She had a habit of sticking new photos in used frames without taking the old ones out first; so it's probably in

Unnamed Gravesite (Mielke baby) - Ault Cemetery

Unnamed Gravesite (Mielke baby) - Ault Cemetery

This granite stone appears to mark a very old gravesite. Before about 1945, it was common to mark infant and toddler graves in this way. Although no name is given on the stone, the position of the grave matches the legend "Mielke Baby" on Bud Ault's hand-drawn 1955 map of the cemetery. The grave is located just slightly north and west of the Bell family (Samuel and Cora Edna). One more step to the north and west, the map locates "Foland Baby".

Mielke Baby is noted as born 1885. Foland Baby is undated.

A bit of local history has a connection:
Jesse James and "Horsethief Thompson" were active in this area, maintaining a hideout in nearby Deer Creek Canyon about 2 miles to the southeast. They were known to have stayed in the cabin of the Mielke family on Sampson Mountain (3 miles south). Jesse James gave the Mielkes a gold bar for the use of their cabin. Jacob Mielke sometimes paid debts by shaving bits of gold off the bar. After Jake Mielke died, his daughters found gold bars worth $3,500 hidden in his cabin; that would have been 100 troy ounces and would bring $88,000 today.

Jacob Mielke and Rosa Anna Mielke had patents on 160 acres in section 24 of township 6S, 70W, about 4 miles southeast of the cemetery. The claim is dated 1902. Two children of the Mielkes died in the 1890s: Charlie (1891) and Walter (1892). They also had two daughters living at the 1900 census: Minnie (b. 1890) and Rosy (b. 1895). We have no record of any Mielkes born or died in 1885, except this small, unnamed grave marker and a notation on a 1955 map.

GPS coordinates 39 33.578 N, 105 13.659 W (accuracy about 20 feet).

Ault Family Cemetery Association, Turkey Creek area, near Morrison Colorado.

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