All Things Stewart Mineral Springs
Emilie A. Frank's Classic
Four-Part Article on
Stewart Mineral Springs
In 1976, late Mt. Shasta journalist, local historian, and author of collected writings Mt. Shasta: California's Mystic Mountain, wrote the following four-part weekly series about the Springs for Mt. Shasta Herald and Weed Press.
Reprinted by permission of family member.
Life at Stewart Springs
by Emilie A. Frank
Part I -- THE SYLVAN DOOR
It was a beautiful June day and I was on my way to Stewart Springs to spend the weekend. Turning off at the Edgewood ramp I soon was winding up picturesque Stewart Springs Road, gradually ascending into the wild country. The road begins with verdant meadows - cattle leisurely grazing, sometimes a fawn standing timidly along the road. This is indeed God's country.
About two miles further Parks Creek comes into view, tumbles along the road and stays with you until you arrive at the Springs. You'll know you're there when you see the large sundeck of the bathhouse on the right. The next road to the right leads into the compound which is one of the neatest health spas anywhere.
Stewart Springs Mineral Baths celebrates its 101st birthday this year.  Time seems to have stood completely still here, however. Discovered in the 1850s by Henry Stewart, the Springs still retain the wildness and the remoteness the Indians once knew and loved. As a matter of fact, a gravely ill Henry Stewart was brought to the Springs by friendly Indians to bathe in the mineral waters. His health was restored. Fascinated by this intoxicating combination of extraordinarily beautiful scenery and the healing qualities of the mineral springs which saved his life, Stewart sought to buy the property so its waters could be used to heal his fellowmen.
He purchased a 160-acre parcel including the Springs from the Central Pacific Railroad. Then he constructed a small bathhouse and operated the area as a health spa until his death in 1915. In those days, people relied on natural methods of healing and the Springs attracted people. After Stewart's death, his daughter Katy and her husband continued the enterprise. Then tragedy struck. On June 4th, 1948, a fire destroyed their home and also a cookhouse used by the health-seekers who were living nearby in cabins and tents.
It was never the same after that. In 1953 Katy Loyd gave the Springs to the Scottish Rite Order in Sacramento. They built cabins and apartments, the bathhouse was enlarged, electricity was installed, and once again people were drawn to the Springs to be healed.
But the Springs changed hands again [in 1969] when a group of Weed businessmen bought it. Finally, about four years ago Winston Goodpasture and his wife Carol bought the place and operate the Springs as a health spa complete with a rustic restaurant which specializes in fine, wholesome food. Together with their children, Sandy and Greg, the Goodpastures have made this place come alive and work hard to retain its rustic loveliness. They are assisted by Mary Martin, Melinda Anthony and Linda Wasson. And in the quaint restaurant, Mark Wright helps Greg Goodpasture with the cooking. Also on the staff are licensed polarity therapists Elizabeth Wagner and Don McDonald; and Hazel Nichols, Natureopath.
Everything seems to run like clockwork, and there isn't a speck of dirt on the place. That is one of the very first things I noticed - everything is immaculate.
I parked my car in front of "The Cottage" - the enchanting little house with a deck overlooking the thundering creek - which was to be my home for the next few days. I walked down an iris-flanked path to the front door. An enormous lilac bush in full bloom wafted its sweet fragrance over the entire area. It was almost unreal. The golden iris, the sun-splashed pathway, the song of the booming creek, the crisp air - I was already beginning to feel renewed at this health spa and I hadn't even tried the mineral baths yet.
If I, who have lived in these mountains for many years, felt the refreshing wildness of this retreat - how must city folks feel? I remembered Winston Goodpasture's words, "We're better known in downtown San Francisco than we are in Siskiyou County. Most of our guests are from out of the county..."
John Muir, of course, spoke the truth when he wrote during the last century: "Thousands of over-civilized, tired, nerve-shattered people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home. That wildness is a necessity. And that mountains are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers - but as fountains of life."
The inside of "The Cottage" was a pleasant surprise. Equipped with utensils and beds freshly made up with crisp linens, it looked cheery and charming. From the double corner-window of the kitchen, the creek could be seen catapulting its silvery path down the jagged rocks. Someone had thoughtfully filled a bowl with lilacs.And in the bedroom were small containers of wildflowers exuding their faint perfume.
I put my bag in the bedroom and then went out on the deck, lured by the sound of the creek. Dropping onto a deck chair, I studied the rushing torrent of water. Thousands of rocks lined the creekbed -
some giant boulders. Directly across the creek, in front of me, rose a lofty forest wall that went straight up. I had to crane my neck to see the top. All green and thickly forested. This was Indian country once - they lived and loved here.
But it was time for my first mineral bath. As I walked down the rustic path toward the bathhouse, for some reason my mind flashed on the well-publicized Elizabeth Arden's health resort, "The Golden Door" - that sterile, sophisticated spa where socialites and superstars spend about $1,000 a week to recuperate from the ravages of overeating, overdrinking, and other sins that beset mortals.
What a contrast. I felt the closeness of nature along this well-worn path - here and there a wildflower; crisp, tangy mountain air heavily braced with the fragrance of pine here in this idyllwild "sylvan door" of the Siskiyous.
Entering the bathhouse, I found a quiet lobby whose walls are adorned with many original paintings by Winston Goodpasture himself. Another wall features many wildflower watercolors by a former guest, who, on her nature walks along the meandering paths, was fascinated by the wealth of flowers in the area.
Corridors to fourteen individual bathing rooms branch off this main room, and another corridor houses a vitamin and gift shop. Just outside is a sun deck which leads to another larger deck, both of which overlook Parks Creek. (The mineral springs are located above the compound and the water is piped in).
Sandy Goodpasture was in charge of the baths. Sandy is a fine actress and plans to enter New York University this fall to continue her studies. The last two years she has studied under drama instructor Jim Witherell at College of the Siskiyous. [see Sandy's story]
My bath was running in a small, private bathroom. Sandy filled the tub almost to the brim. I really didn't know what to expect, never having taken the plunge into mineral waters before.
(To be continued)
Part II -- THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH?
For as long as I can remember, since I've lived in these mountains, I have wanted to take a series of mineral baths at the Springs. And now, the bathtub of steaming water was waiting. I gingerly dipped my hand into the tub.
"I didn't make it too hot this first time," Sandy said. "Usually the baths run about 104 degrees."
"How long am I to soak?" I asked.
"Fifteen to twenty minutes," she said and pointed to the directions on the wall. On a neat (everything is neat around here) wall sign the directions said to soak 15-20 minutes, and to just lie still and concentrate upon the healing qualities of the water.
To my great astonishment, I found myself floating. It was with difficulty that I kept myself submerged.
Talk about relaxing. There is nothing at all to do except relax. There's a clock on the wall, but somehow you don't seem to worry about time at Stewart Springs. Or anything. The hot water, together with the minerals, make the body tingle.
Though there are about eight mineral bath spas in California and others in the United States, the mineral water at Stewart Springs is the only water which compares favorably with perhaps the most famous spa of all - that of Baden Baden, Germany.
On the back of the Stewart Spring's business card I found the analysis of the mineral water which was done by Western Laboratories in Oakland:
Total Solids 3470.00
Volatile and Organic Matter 750.00
Alkalinity as (Ca Cos) 647.50
Silica (Sio2) 25.20
Iron and Aluminum Oxide
(Fe2 (o3) A 12 03) 2.30
Calcium (CaO) 3.10
Magnesium (Mg2 P2 07) Trace
Sulphuric Anhydzide (So3) 1014.28
Analysis for hardness
Total solids 240.00
Total Hardness 23.68
Permanent Hardness 17.76
Temporary Hardness 5.92
The water, no me, felt thicker (if that's the word) somehow. Twenty minutes seemed to pass quickly. Hoisting myself up by means of a rope centered above the tub (these ropes are placed over each bathtub because mineral water is slippery) I emerged and wrapped a huge lightweight blanket around me. The next step was the sauna, but everyone here calls it the sweat-room. They have separate sweat-rooms for ladies and men. [Men's was located in right half of what's now laundry room.]
The hot mineral bath opens pores, and the hot sauna sweats out the poisons. I stepped out into the corridor, wrapped in the blanket, barefoot.
"Does everyone float around here or was it just me?" I asked Sandy.
"Some do and some don't," she smiled.
"What did you think that rock was for beside your tub?" laughed Winston Goodpasture.
He wasn't kidding. The rock is for the floaters.
Sandy led the way to the heated room. It felt something like Redding on a sizzling day. Numerous lounges lined the room. Still tingling from the bath, I sank upon a lounge and Sandy covered me immediately with another blanket. I spent the next 20-30 minutes perspiring heavily. I felt absolutely marvelous. Relaxed. I wanted to doze off but I fought it. (You can, however, doze if you wish). Drowsily I arose from the lounge, sat for a few minutes in the lobby in order to cool off, then dressed and walked up to the restaurant for a cup of coffee. I read the San Francisco Chronicle and walked up the hill to the cottage.
Still relaxed, I stretched out lazily on the deck lounge and watched Parks Creek terrace curvaceously down the mountain, divide around a tiny island about 200 yards to my left, then unite again just below me. this swiftly moving creek, I found out later, takes its rise from spring-fed Parks Lake which is located approximately 2-1/2 miles further up at an elevation of about 6,000 ft. Stewart Springs is about 4,400 ft.[actually closer to 4,000]. Stewart Springs road will get you to Trinity Center sooner or later. The road up to the Springs is a good blacktop, but if you want to go on past Stewart Springs Mineral Baths, it's a dirt road, though an average automobile can handle it (I was told). The scenery is spectacular.
Parks Creek roared past my deck. Down in front of the bathhouse sundeck is a rock in the water which has an old man's head complete with long beard carved into it from hundreds of years of rushing waters. He is known around the Springs as "the spirit of the springs" and can be clearly seen even though he is across the creek. [Gone with flood of late '90s.]
The bath, combined with the sauna, made me feel not only relaxed, but just plain indolent. On my lounge I watched two of the largest bluejays I have ever seen. Pines and firs marched up the mountain on both sides of the deck and the highest trees were beautifully silhouetted against a rack of white clouds. Nothing at all but tranquility here. The sounds of splashing, tumbling water, a hundred shades of green as far as the eye could behold, and an azure sky dotted with shining cloudpuffs, slowly drifting toward me.
Just beneath the deck was a rustic bridge. Across the creek I noticed paths on each side. I decided to explore that in the morning. Just now I was unwinding from the civilized
world to such an extent that I did not even care to move. The June air was like warm silk, the sun dappled through the pines, and I was mesmerized by the lullaby of the creek. It was all too much. I dozed off.
The late afternoon chill, well-known in mountain areas, awakened me. I decided to take a walk. There is much to be said for lazy walking, especially along creek paths and forest glades.
Before I returned to the cottage, I stopped in at the rustic restaurant for a snack. The restaurant is a meeting place, a friendly place, and the menu is outrageously delicious. Managed by Greg Goodpasture and Mark Wright, excellent cooks both, you can get a bountiful breakfast any time of the day, a fantastic chef's salad just loaded with good things, any number of delectable sandwiches (with or without meat), malts made with their own chocolate sauce, fruit and yogurt sundaes or regular sundaes, juice (fresh carrot, apple, orange and celery), a variety of omelets with toast, or your own favorite tea from a special list. Everything is fresh - they use neither canned nor frozen ingredients - and the wholewheat bread and buns are made of special ingredients. They have what they call "bottomless" cups of fresh coffee. This place could be classified as an Epicurean's paradise. [see sister Sandy"s tributeto Greg; also menu newsletter]
The restaurant is new with the Goodpastures. Lots of young people are always around. They're clean, intelligent, and aware. They come to take the baths, and they love the purity of the food.
"The kids love the baths," said Winston Goodpasture, as we sat over a cup of coffee. "We get them from all over California - by word-of-mouth, I guess, because we don't advertise. They come and they stay and they return."
While we walked, two young people walked in who had just completed courses in polarity therapy at Fall River. They were on their way to distant cities, but the girl said, "I'll always come back to the Springs..."
As I was leaving, I stopped to chat with two young men on the deck of the restaurant. They were from Arcata and come here often. It was 7 p.m. and Greg and Mark were closing the restaurant. (When they're through cleaning the place after a day's business, the restaurant is immaculate. Everything is scrubbed and cleansed and ready for the next day).
Evening shadows were deepening. I strolled back to the cottage, to the lure of the singing creek, and a favorite book. Tomorrow I would resume my baths.
(to be continued)
PART III -- THE BATHS
There is much to be said for life at the Springs. If you stay a few days, you'll see many of your friends come and go. Some come for the baths and some are attracted to the terrific food. Some come for both - the two sort of go together.
I checked into the bathhouse Saturday morning for my second bath. Carol Goodpasture was in charge. Besides being a very friendly, outgoing person, I had the feeling that Carol Goodpasture really cares about helping people. She is concerned. Winston shares this same empathy. The vibes are really great at Stewart Springs.
"People often come here as a last resort," she said. Carol and her husband put in a lot of hours making the Springs an enjoyable and memorable place to visit. Much time is spent by the staff cleaning inside and out. The tubs are immediately sterilized by a portable sterilizer after a guest emerges. And the grounds are a rustic vision. Decorative ponds, reflective ponds, small rustic bridges. Flowers, trees and shrubs. Winston is working now on small hand-carved wooden pathway lights for late summer evenings. I would say that the Springs is a perfect place for contemplative meditation.
The Goodpastures make no claim to cure any ailments, but their files contain unsolicited letters from scores of people who are now enjoying health to a greater degree after a series of baths. The baths are good for a variety of ailments - arthritis, rheumatism, ulcers, stiff aching, backaches, acne, hemorrhoids. For those who do not live in the area there are 17 rental units which include apartments, cabins, and of course, The Cottage. These are equipped with kitchens and bedding. The season normally is from April 1 through October 31, and the bathhouse remains open seven days a week. The restaurant, however, closes on Monday.
"We believe the baths are so important," said Carol, who takes a mineral bath every day as do all the Goodpastures and the staff. "I think I should tell you that when you've had about three baths, your body will break out in a rash in any area where there might be trouble - it's the toxins coming out."
She was running the water for my bath. (The bathhouse is equipped with individual rooms, white enameled porcelain tubs with hot and cold mineral water direct from the famous spring. The water is two degrees above freezing before it is heated). [maybe in winter]
Again I soaked in the tub. It was hotter this time but felt good. Mineral water has a different "feel" than ordinary water. I relaxed even better this time, then perspired heavily again in the sweat-room. Clutching my lightweight blanket around me, I went back into the lobby after about 30 minutes in the sauna. Others were sitting around, clad in similar blankets, chatting. This is indeed curious in today's world. One does not sit around wrapped loosely in a blanket, barefoot, and talk to complete strangers with face flushed and beads of perspiration sliding down one's nose. Or does one? Who is to care at the Springs? Nobody thinks anything about it.
Carol brewed cups of hot broth made with bouillon and mineral water, and brought them to several guests who had just taken the baths. I found it to be delicious.
"We like bathers to drink the mineral water," she explained. "And we find it's easier to take like this."
The next morning I found that I was really looking forward to the bath. I hurriedly dressed, walked through the lilac-bedecked path down to the creek, tarried awhile on the rustic bridge beneath the cottage, and then ambled slowly along the creek path leading to the bathhouse. The air was fragrant with pine, and there were lovely wildflowers along the path.
Though it was early Sunday morning, there were many cars around the bathhouse. When I went in, a man was waiting for a tub to accommodate his length. (There are different-sized tubs to accommodate different size people).
I eased into the hot tub gratefully, aware by now of its benefits. My third bath. The water felt thick. I ran my fingernail down my leg and felt a film of minerals clinging to it. (When taking a series of baths, one does not shower later. The minerals continue their healing work and there is never an odor - even though the bathwater has a sulfurous scent.)
Soak and relax. It is so comforting that 20 minutes does not seem long. By this time I had solved a couple of minor puzzles. Since my hands, after soaking, were slipping on the rope when I hoisted myself out of the tub, I found that if I wrapped the washcloth around one of the knots on the rope I eased out with no difficulty. Another thing I had solved at this point was how to wrap the blanket around me so that I wasn't plagued with the horror that it might fall off in the lobby. I finally learned to secure the blanket by wrapping it around, beneath my armpits, then tossing the right corner over my left shoulder like a sari. this leaves two hands free to open doors or hold the cup of broth.
Sunday afternoon, regretfully, I left the Springs, the delightful cottage, and returned home to reality. But I had made up my mind that I would return each day for a bath. I had to know.
That night, in my own home, I noticed that I had indeed broken out in several rashes. I was surprised. Somehow I did not think it would happen to me. I had always enjoyed excellent health. I had a rash on the small of my back. I had a rash on both elbows. I had a rash over my lungs (I used to smoke but not for a long time) and I had a rash about four inches long running up both my sides under my waistline. And it itched. The next day I found they have a remedy for that - it's called Aloe Vera Gel and it relieves the itch beautifully.
By the end of seven baths some of my rash was disappearing but I found, to my even greater surprise, that I had broken out in new places. I discovered, through talking to others, that everyone, including teenagers, break out in rashes. What happens is that your body is throwing out toxins accumulated during your life. Soaking in the hot minerals and then perspiring heavily in the sweat-room acts as a purifier in that the body is given a chance to throw out poisons. It's as simple as that. The Indians knew all about healing mineral waters and sweat houses and used them regularly.
I found I was moving easier, and I felt limber. What's more, my fingers were flying on the teletype and typewriter. I felt great. I had begun to drink the mineral water from the cold tap while I soaked in the tub. A clean glass is provided for this, and after a few mineral baths the water doesn't taste that bad, really. The point is, I felt that if I took the baths then I should drink the water too - Carol Goodpasture said that they would like guests to drink at least three glasses of mineral water a day while they take the baths.
One day, in the sweat-room, I overheard two ladies talking. They and their husbands were taking the baths. Both ladies had arthritis. I noticed that one's hands were painfully crippled with huge knots on the finger joints. She was delighted that she cold move her thumbs now, both of which had been stiff for years. She held her hands for her friend to see, spreading and bending her fingers. And she said that her husband really had surprised himself the other day when he bent over and found he didn't have to brace himself or hold on to anything in order to straighten up.
Beautiful. I felt good that they were being helped. As for me, I was feeling plenty good, too. Along with the baths I had been eating lots of fresh fruits, nuts and vegetables. At the end of the seven baths I had lost four pounds, had decided to continue through 21 baths (the magic number) and had enjoyed a polarity treatment which I shall discuss next week.
(to be continued)
PART IV -- POLARITY THERAPY -
A HEALING ART THAT REALLY WORKS
What is polarity therapy? I had long heard of the beneficial polarity treatments, and had been aware of the Polarity therapy Center over at Fall River. But I had never had a treatment.
Along about my sixth bath, I met Elizabeth Wagner [sister of Carol Goodpasture, passed on late 2011], polarity therapist. I liked her immediately. Elizabeth lives in Orinda, which is a small beautiful town very close to Walnut Creek, where I once lived. She comes to Stewart Springs during the season here, and is also a practitioner of polarity in Orinda.
After my bath, I was guided out to the deck where her adjoining treatment room overlooks the creek. From her window, Elizabeth pointed out the time-worn face of the "Spirit of the Springs" - an intriguing rock with a face which reposes beneath her window just across the creek.
I reclined, in my blanket, on the treatment table. I thought I was relaxed after my bath - I didn't know how relaxed a person can get under the capable and experienced hands of Elizabeth Wagner.
Polarity therapy was first developed by Dr. Randolph Stone who is still alive and lives in Hawaii. It is the science of balancing life energy in the human body. Polarity currents link the inner energies
Old steps to Cabins 16-17, since nicely upgraded >
of the body to the outer fields where interruptions cause tension, pain, and other "conditions" which are generally known as illnesses. By a simple and gentle manipulative therapy using positive and negative contact with the right and left hands, the therapist establishes the flow of vital energy through these currents and she alleviates these tensions or blocks. The treatments promote relaxation and good health.
Elizabeth began the treatment by massaging the muscles in the back of my neck where I obviously had a couple of painful "writer's knots." It took awhile to get the kinks out. Then slowly and methodically, using the positive and negative contact with her right and left hands, she deftly relieved pressure and tension areas in my entire body. She also discovered a startling fact - one of my legs is a minute fraction longer than the other. Even though it has never been noticeable, this alone would throw my body out of balance and harmony.
In a nutshell, the polarity therapist establishes balance and harmony in the body. Everything was relaxed - there is no bone-crunching in this type of treatment. There was no rush, and the treatment lasted well over an hour and a half. Elizabeth also conducts workshops; is an authority on Gestalt (developed in Germany, a psychology based on the theory that physical, psychological and biological events do not occur through the summation of separate elements, as sensations or reflexes, but through formed patterns of these integrated units which function singling or in interrelations); teaches yoga; and also advises regarding exercise and diet). She's a busy gal.
When treatment was over, Elizabeth prepared a cup of herb tea for us, and I continued to relax. Again I felt almost overwhelmed with the Springs and its people. At their warmth and vitality. At their consideration. For I did not know it, but a man had been waiting in the lobby for a polarity treatment. But never once did Elizabeth Wagner mention it, nor did she hasten my treatment because of it. (In today's world, I was touched by this). I kept forgetting that the Springs was an off-the-beaten-path part of the world. The world, as we know it, does not exist here.
I dressed, glided out to my car, and drove down the canyon on what seemed like clouds. I had never felt so good. Mentally I was thinking about all the things I would do when I got home. But it didn't work out that way - I found I was so relaxed that I didn't really want to do anything. I read for awhile and then just succumbed to the total relaxation that I felt. It was only nine o'clock but I went to bed and slept like a baby.
As I write this, I have completed the 21 mineral baths which were my goal. As the baths progressed, the rashes alternately cleared up and moved around. Above all else, I noticed the change in my hands. (I had noticed lately tiny protrusions on my fingerjoints - my mother had suffered from arthritis and I had visions of the same thing hitting me later. The Arthritis Foundation states that more than 17,000,000 people in the United States suffer from this disease, or one in every eleven people). The first I noticed was a rash on my hands, which of course designated trouble there. During the course of the baths I noticed a definite change in my hands, and was delighted to discover a new dexterity which had been lacking of late. This was of great import to me because I type a lot.
I noticed the most persistent rash and the slowest to clear was that area over my lungs.Though I had not smoked for a very long time, there were obviously impurities still there. And in the sweat-room I found I needed kleenex for the phlegm which suddenly was forthcoming after a few baths.
This was shattering. What if I hadn't ever taken the baths? The truth was clear - the toxins would have remained trapped inside forever. A depressing thought. Especially when I thought of some of my friends and relatives who smoke and cannot seem to break the habit, no matter how many times they have tried.
It seems to me that the baths and saunas, together with Stanley Burrough's cleansing lemonade diet would gently ease anyone out of the habit, and with little effort or anguish. While I was taking the baths I had noticed quite a few guests on the lemonade diet. This was new to me and I began asking questions about it. The lemonade diet is quite well-known as "the Master Cleanser" around health spas and its purpose is to dissolve and eliminate toxins and congestion in the body, to purity the glands and cells, to eliminate all unusable waste, and to relieve pressure and irritation in the nerves, arteries and blood vessels. It is used for cleansing, for obesity, and for many other reasons.
The special ingredients in this easy-to-take concoction, together with the healing mineral water baths and saunas should make the break from the deadly tobacco habit almost seem a lark - and after having once cleansed the body thoroughly, one would not slide so easily back into the habit again. The craving would be gone. The hopelessly addicted would be free.
Having once smoked, I know what it is all about. There is hope at the Springs for not only smokers but those with other problems.
During the series of 21 baths, I tried to follow the rules. I began to take mineral water and bouillon to work in my thermos instead of coffee. I also drank a cup or two in the evenings, instead of coffee. And when I soaked in the mineral waters, though I did not submerge, I soaked my face in hot wash-clothes heavy with mineral water. (Actually, the mineral water is good for hair - all of the young people submerge). I found the hot baths were not drying to the skin. Instead, the skin feels soft and sort of glows.
Though I had to organize my time to accommodate the trip to the Springs in order not to miss a day, even on weekends, I felt sad when they were over. I miss the daily contact with the friendly Stewart Springs staff. I miss lolling on the sundeck after the sauna, and the daily trek over Parks Creek. I miss Sandy, Mary, Linda and Melinda - those lovely, smiling girls who ran my bath and covered me with blankets in the sweat-room. Stewart Springs had become my retreat - a refreshingly beautiful Mecca high in the Siskiyous.
However, I shall continue taking the baths occasionally this summer. I have seen first-hand what they do. And next year, I hope to take 21 baths again (and every year thereafter).
As for Carol and Winston Goodpasture - it has been said that everyone is given his or her mission on this earth. the Goodpastures both feel that they were guided to Stewart Springs. "Everything we had done prior to this was sort of a buildup," said Winston. "I know that now..."
If the Goodpastures' mission was to re-vitalize a health-giving spa which had fallen into almost complete anonymity and disuse, and if their special mission in life is to help restore ailing, aching bodies with natural, beneficial mineral baths which are kept so reasonably priced that anybody can afford them - then I am profoundly grateful that destiny arranged my life so that my paths crossed theirs.
Somehow I am reminded of Emma Lazarus' immortal words when I think of Carol and Winston and the entire staff up at Stewart Springs where the waters are healing and the air is pure: "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..."