Dear Family,

I am having a hard time here. I just dig all day and nothing comes up. Everything is poor here. The beds, the food, the tents, the everything. A neighbor struck it rich and we haven’t seen him since. I hope you are doing well. I have to live with strangers but we are getting to know each other very slowly. One is nice but he is very dirty. Another one is cranky and ignores everyone when anyone speaks to him. The days are hot and long and tiering. It is hard to live here with this wether. It all started when one of John Sutters workers found gold in the American river. Then everyone started coming from all parts of the world. A lot of people came in 1849 so they were called 49ers. I wish this place was like home. I’ll be thinking of you.

Love, Jackson