The Curse of the Naramores - Part 2

Truman C. Naramore was born in Charlotte, Vermont on January 30, 1838, the son of Samuel Naramore and Philura Crossman, and the grandson of Revolutionary War soldier Asa Naramore.  Twenty-three years old when the Civil War broke out, Truman enlisted in the 1st Vermont Cavalry in September 1861, and was a corporal in that regiment when he was taken prisoner on the first day of the Battle of the Wilderness, May 5th, 1864.  He soon found himself transferred to the infamous southern prison camp at Andersonville, but managed to survive the horrors there and was eventually paroled in November 1864.  His health was impaired, however, and as a result of general debility and the scurvy he contracted there, he later received a pension of two dollars a month.

Shortly after the war ended, he married Laura Murray, raised a family of three children (two others died in infancy) and returned to agricultural and mercantile pursuits in Williston, Vermont.  He was active in both the statewide and local granges, being one of the founding members of the Chittenden County grange in 1876.  He was also an inventive sort, patenting several mechanical devices and agricultural improvements.  By all accounts, he seemed to have done as his grandfather Asa had before him, successfully shaking off his wartime experience and prospering.

In the early 1880s, he moved to California, where he pursued several interests, including that of a real estate agent in the firm of More, Snyder and Naramore, with considerable success.  But it was in the last decade of the century that the Curse of the Naramores finally caught up with him.  In 1891, he set up a starch factory in Los Angeles in partnership with T. Wiesendanger, but the business exploded - literally.  On the evening of December 10, 1892, just minutes after the last employees had left work for the day, there was a terrific explosion and the boiler went flying through the wall like a cannonball, landing on the sidewalk outside.  Fortunately, no one was hurt, but the factory was a complete loss and the neighboring residence of the Weyse family (from whom Weisendanger and Naramore rented the factory) was partially destroyed as well.  Otto Weyse, who was in bed at the time, had a narrow escape.

There had apparently been an existing dispute between Weyse and Naramore over the ownership of a wagon, and the events of December 10 could not have improved Otto's temper.  When Naramore went to collect the wagon after the explosion, he was stopped by Weyse.  Angry words were exchanged, and then Weyse struck Naramore over the head with a piece of board, severely injuring him.  It was to be strike one.

Strike two was not long in coming.  While riding on his wagon one evening at his ranch in Riverside, a person or persons unknown came up from behind and struck him on the back of the head with a blunt instrument. Naramore was thrown from the wagon unconscious, and the team ran off in a fright, carrying the wagon with them over an embankment.  The injury was serious, although Naramore eventually recovered.  Neither the attacker nor his motive was ever discovered.

Strike three also came about on the Riverside ranch, which Truman rented out to the Cummings brothers, John and Caesar, in 1894.  When the rent money, in the amount of $500, came due in August 1895 and Naramore went out to the ranch to collect it, the brothers murdered him, and then concocted a story about robbers who stole the money and killed Naramore.  The jury didn't believe them, however, and they were convicted and sentenced to death by hanging [but see the note below from a commenter indicating that the governor of California eventually intervened to halt their executions].

• Thomas (ca. 1640 - ca. 1690) -> Samuel (ca. 1680 - ca. 1754) -> Samuel (1706 - 1789) -> John (1735 - ca. 1815) -> Asa (1761 - 1851) -> Samuel (1806 - 1847) -> Truman (1838 - 1895)

As a postscript to this story, Truman had a son of the same name who remained in Los Angeles, where he died in 1943.  In 1936, the following "filler" story appeared in several newspapers:

LOSING GROUND

About one more "drop" in real estate and T. C. Naramore may be out of house and home.  He was standing under a tree in his front yard when 30 tons of it slid 65 feet into an automobile parking lot below.  Three years ago, 15 tons went the same way.  Now, Naramore's house is perched precipitously on the edge of a steep hill in the downtown section.

I don't know what finally became of his house, but it appears that, one generation on, the Curse of the Naramores still had some kick to it.  In Part 3, we'll go back and look at the short life and tragic death of Asa Naramore's younger brother Samuel.