Nathan Harrison-A local legend

Nathan Harrison, often referred to as “Nate Harrison” in popular retellings, was a formerly enslaved African American man who lived for several decades on Palomar Mountain in San Diego County, California. His life has inspired many legends and much inaccurate local lore, a common fate for notable historical figures. Yet beyond the mythology, Harrison’s experiences offer a valuable case study in post–Civil War Black migration, self-sufficiency, and the ways a formerly enslaved individual navigated freedom in the American West. As San Diego County’s first African American homesteader, his life provides a rare and instructive historical portrait.

Much of Nathan Harrison’s early life was found to be undocumented, a common circumstance for individuals born into slavery in the early nineteenth century. He was most likely born in Kentucky in the 1830s to Ben and Harriet Harrison and spent his formative years enslaved. Surviving historical accounts provide only fragments of this period, noting that he followed his enslaver to Northern California during the early years of the Gold Rush. After his enslaver’s death in the 1860s and his subsequent emancipation, Harrison gradually made his way south. By the late 1870s, he had arrived in San Diego County.

Before establishing permanent residence on Palomar Mountain in the late 1890s, Harrison worked a wide range of jobs, including timberman, sheep herder, cook, and shopkeeper, among others. During this time, he lived alongside Indigenous communities on local reservations. Harrison maintained close relationships with Native peoples throughout his life, not only through marriage to two Indigenous women, but also through a shared experience of marginalization as social outsiders in nineteenth-century California.

In the late nineteenth century, Palomar Mountain was remote and sparsely populated. Harrison had learned early on that hills and mountains often served as places of refuge for Black Americans, particularly as many nearby settlements functioned as sundown towns, including the town of Escondido. Racial hostility in the region was overt: Judson Ames, editor of the Herald, advocated for the division of California of North and South, with many local residents supported the extension of slavery. In the 1864 presidential election, San Diego voters overwhelmingly favored Democrat George McClellan over Abraham Lincoln. Given these conditions, Harrison’s preference for sleeping and traveling in isolated terrain was a rational response to real danger. These circumstances likely influenced his decision to homestead in the remote mountains of Palomar.

By1893, Harrison completed a homesteading certificate for 45.5 acres of land, in addition to securing a prior water claim to a freshwater spring on the property. He built a small cabin near a steep mountain route that would later become known as the Nate Harrison Grade. As the years passed, the trail near his cabin was widened by the county in 1897 to accommodate increased traffic, including early automobiles. This transformation reshaped Harrison’s way of life. His cabin now sat along a vital travel corridor used by settlers, ranchers, and stagecoach passengers—and increasingly, tourists.

Harrison adapted. The former odd-job laborer became one of San Diego County’s earliest tourist attractions. As weary travelers struggled up the mountain in vehicles ill-suited for steep terrain, Harrison—by then in his seventies—offered hospitality and companionship. He provided meals, fresh water from his spring, and stories of local history and gossip. Tourists often repaid him with gifts or money, allowing him to sustain himself in his later years. In the process, he became one of the most photographed Black residents in the region.

Although Harrison lived alone on Palomar Mountain, he was far from socially isolated. Contemporary accounts describe him as well known to travelers and local residents, frequently characterized as personable and warmly regarded by those who knew him. It was these friends and acquaintances who eventually persuaded him to seek medical care at the San Diego County Hospital. Harrison’s health began to decline in 1919. By October of that year, he was reportedly so weak that he could be found crawling inside his cabin to carry out daily tasks. He was admitted to the hospital, where he remained for nearly a year. In October 1920, Nathan Harrison passed away and was buried in an unmarked popper's grave at Mount Hope Cemetery. Even in death, he was not spared the injustices of his era.

Despite the lack of formal recognition at his burial, Harrison’s community expressed deep respect for him after his passing. Local residents pooled money to erect a memorial near his spring, perhaps as a form of recompense for his unceremonious interment. When the monument was dedicated in the early 1920s, more than one hundred people attended, and many spoke highly of their departed friend. For years afterward, tourists continued to visit the site of his cabin for photographs, even after the structure was torn down in the 1930s.

In subsequent decades, Harrison’s legacy has been preserved through place names, historical markers, and local histories. Nate Harrison Grade Road and nearby trails remain physical reminders of his presence on the mountain.

Studying Harrison’s life contributes to a more inclusive understanding of regional history and challenges simplified narratives of post-Civil War freedom. His story underscores that emancipation did not guarantee safety or equality, and that freedom often required sustained effort, adaptability, and endurance. Archaeological excavations at Harrison’s homestead have further deepened historians’ understanding of his private life. Among the discoveries were writing implements, including sharpened graphite, erasing tools, and a pen cap, corroborating Harrison’s admission of literacy to a census taker during his final year in the hospital in 1920.

This evidence reveals a deliberate contrast between Harrison’s private abilities and his public persona. In his interactions with tourists and outsiders, he often performed the role of an uneducated former slave, speaking in broken English and adopting a docile demeanor. This carefully constructed façade functioned as a survival strategy, allowing him to navigate hostile environments and avoid unwanted scrutiny.

Archaeological findings also revealed gun paraphernalia among Harrison’s belongings. While the phrase “the pen is mightier than the sword” may apply, Harrison clearly recognized the need for physical protection when living alone in the wilderness. Notably, he was rarely photographed with a firearm, likely due to California state laws prohibiting the sale of firearms or ammunition to California Indians or to individuals known to associate with them. Given Harrison’s close ties to Indigenous communities, these restrictions would have applied to him as well.

A useful point of comparison is John Ballard, another formerly enslaved man brought from Kentucky to California during the Gold Rush. Like Harrison, Ballard gained his freedom and became a homesteader. Unlike Harrison, however, Ballard made no attempt to soften his presence or conform to white expectations. He spoke openly about injustice and refused to adopt a socially acceptable persona. As a result, white neighbors burned him out of his homestead and forced him to flee the area. Ballard’s experience provides critical context for understanding Harrison’s decision to live a double life.

Nathan Harrison’s decades on Palomar Mountain represent a distinctive chapter in California history. Through self-reliance, adaptability, and careful community engagement, he established a life of relative autonomy under difficult conditions. His legacy endures not only in place names and local memory.