Chapter 1 A New Beginning Hope When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bonds which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, […] That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Were these the words that brought cause to the greatest war in American history? Even decades later, and possibly into the future, the cause of the Civil War is still questioned. Was it about slavery or some other issue? If there had been no slavery, would there have been a war? What was interesting is that, although slavery was the main issue of the time, most Americans had very little interest in it. The majority of the Southern states were made up of small farmers who couldn’t afford slaves, and most of the North had never even seen one. Still, the issue divided the land. If the South lost their slaves, they feared their entire economic system would collapse. The North was both for and against slavery. Even then the Southern politicians found a way to convince most of those in the South that their neighbors to the North threatened their way of life. The numbers were great. Three million people fought and six hundred thousand lost their lives. John Brown’s raid at Harpers Ferry in 1859 began a war that would become the only war fought by Americans on American soil. The first battle fell upon Fort Sumter on April 12, and by the spring of 1861, the Union headed for Richmond, therefore beginning the Civil War. For four years the Northern soldiers tried to get to Richmond. For four years their attempts failed. The war was mostly fought in a small strip of Virginia territory. It was the Confederates against the Union, and the Union became victorious on June 23, 1865 when the last Confederate army surrendered. Every person who fought in the Civil War had a reason and a story. My pa believed that the slaves would remain as such. He felt that colored folk shouldn’t be allowed to make their own way in life—that was the white man’s place; and besides, why disrupt something that worked so well? Pa was a tough man, born to a hard-working farmer and a school teacher. He was tall and slim, and his arms could kill with very little effort, but that would not have been his choice. As a boy, the school children learned quickly to leave him alone. When it was time for him to leave school and make his own way in life, Pa left Rolla, Missouri for a “soul-seeking” holiday. Everyone was shocked when the tough man returned from his holiday with her on his arm. Ma was a kind-hearted woman—warm and caring. I remember her blonde curls as if they had been photographed in my memory, and I’ll never forget her rosy cheeks. Her green eyes were warm and inviting, and most folks fell in love with her the moment they saw her. She had been raised by very young parents, who had been married at fifteen and raised under the theory that love conquered all. There was only one time when I thought my parents’ love might fail, but it never did, and they were buried together some years ago. A year after the beginning of the war, and then months following General Sigel’s takeover of Rolla, Pa told his family that he felt drawn to the war and would follow the other men to fight. At least that was his excuse. Now, knowing what happened to him there, I’m not so sure that’s what his real reasons were. He took Ma first on a short holiday, and then they returned home. He prepared the fields and hired a farm hand to help with the rest. Rolla was in Union hands, and heavily guarded by Colonel Wyman and the 13th Illinois Regiment. Pa felt his family was safe. As he boarded the train to leave for war, Ma hugged him and told him she was pregnant. “Really?” His voice hiccoughed as he tried not to cry. She simply nodded as the train pulled away. My brother was born on January 15, 1863. He was two when Pa returned home at the end of the war in 1865, so for him the adjustment to suddenly having Pa around was quick and easy. Pa’s usual toughness seemed to diminish when he was around Elijah, but otherwise he was still the same hard-working and tough farmer that he had been before the war. A rare set of blizzards hit Rolla during the winter of 1865-66 and nearly destroyed farms. Ma worried every time Pa sat up and stared out the dark windows, wondering if the fields would make it through. By the spring, the school was in need of a teacher. Those who filled these positions were usually single women during that time, but when there was no one else, married women were allowed. Pa had been trying for weeks to save what was left of his fields, and Elijah was put in the care of our neighbor while Ma went to teach. When the summer of 1866 arrived, the fields were ready, but there was not enough money coming in from the teaching. Pa took a job in town, making deliveries for the mercantile. This continued for quite some time. In the meantime, Ma and Pa were excited to learn I was on the way. I was born on November 20, 1866. A new teacher had been found by that time, and Pa was preparing the fields for winter. For seven years we lived on that land, and the mercantile deliveries sustained our family. My brother and I were always told we were bright and cheerful. My brother’s blonde hair turned a fine black to match my own hair color. I was always excited when he came home with stories of Indians from the books he borrowed from our teacher, and I basked in these stories with curiosity and intrigue. Everything seemed to be going our way until a storm hit Missouri in late 1873. This is when my story really starts. Farms all over the territory had been destroyed, and Pa came in late that night, tears on his face. My brother and I watched worriedly from the kitchen table as he talked in hushed whispers to Ma. I looked at Elijah quickly when Ma’s face fell. What was going on? “What are you saying, Thomas?” The whispering was over. Pa pulled out the travel bags, slipping the money he was counting into his pocket. “As soon as the store is open tomorrow, I’m going to town to buy a couple of oxen and supplies. Have the children ready. The wagon train leaves at nine in the morning.” We knew it was one of the hardest decisions of his life, and scary for us, but staying was no longer an option. We headed out in the spring of 1874 and joined a wagon train heading west. I didn’t know where we were going, but the adventure was exciting. “Pa, when are we going to get there?” It was a cool late-spring night, and the trees were illuminated by the orange glow of the campfires. Our wagon sat in the middle of the others, and all the other children had already gone to bed. I was leaning against Pa’s chest, watching the orange embers fly into the sky and then pop away. I looked up at him as I asked my questions, and he smiled back at me. “If all goes well, we will be able to spend your eighth birthday at our new home.” Pa took a drink from his water cup. The idea of being in a new place for my birthday both excited and frightened me. What if they didn’t like us? What if Pa made us move again? Where were we going? I realized then that he’d never told us. We seemed to be just travelling aimlessly. “Where are we going?” He smiled again. “To a place called Oregon.” “Is it near the ocean?” Pa shrugged. “I think we’ll be close, but still very far away.” “Will I get to see it someday?” I had seen the ocean in a picture book once, and it was described that the water was always moving, but I couldn’t see how. The thought of seeing that mysterious blue excited me. The closer we were, the better! “Perhaps someday. Now, you and Elijah go get into bed. It’s getting late and we need to get an early start in the morning.” “Yes, Pa.” I looked over at Elijah, and he reached out for my hand. I took it and we stood up. Elijah pulled me into the wagon and I turned around, watching my parents move closer together. Pa wrapped his arms around Ma and looked her in the eyes. “Those are some mighty fine children you have there, ma’am.” He grinned at her and she smiled, her green eyes sparkling in the firelight. “I couldn’t have done it without my mean, nasty husband.” Pa’s eyes narrowed at her, and she laughed. “Come on, let’s get to bed, too.” I yawned, rolled up into my blanket, and was asleep fast, grateful for the chance for slumber that came rarely. Trouble was, on the trail the nights seemed short, and each one was cold and sometimes sleepless. Like the others, Ma and Pa always worried about Indians and wild animals, adding extra stress to the families in the wagon train. It was September before the train came to the state of Nevada. It was new to all of us, and we stopped just outside the town of Virginia City for the night. It was a town of saloons, gambling, and silver miners, and an almost sleepless place because of all the noise. The sights of the city entranced me. I had never been close to any city, and took in as much of it as I could before Pa caught me looking in the saloons. I was fascinated by the behavior of the men. I didn’t understand why they were acting so crazy and why they were hitting each other, breaking tables and windows, and sucking on giant brown sticks that had smoke coming off the end of them. Pa had never done any of those things for what seemed like fun to those men doing them. One of the things that intrigued me most was the women dressed in fancy dresses. I loved their long, full-skirted gowns with bright colors and hats to match. The women’s hair was done up, sometimes in buns, sometimes in flowing spiral curls a lot like mine. Each of them wore white gloves and had pretty, embroidered umbrellas. Ma didn’t like the noise of the city, and she was anxious to leave this place. Elijah, like me, was curious as well, and continued to ask Pa about different things, and we still hadn’t seen any Indians! That night, even though I was only seven, I made a promise to myself that I would come back to Virginia City someday, and drifted off to sleep to the sounds of music and shattering glass. By the first of November, I was very aware that my birthday was drawing nearer, and I refused to let Pa forget it. “Pa, are we there yet? It’s almost my birthday. You said we could spend my birthday in our new home.” I gave him the biggest puppy-dog look I could give him. He wouldn’t deny me the answer I wanted. “I think we’re very close. We still have a few days, so just try to be patient, like your brother.” Pa slapped the reins on the horses to tell them to go faster. Most of the wagons had left the trail, deciding on settling in nice places we had seen on the way. Pa’s worries became more prominent as the wagon count fell to three wagons, but being in the lead meant that he could make the decisions. He promised me he would find a place to settle before my birthday, and I could tell he was determined to keep it. “Pa?” “Yes, Elijah?” “Will we get to see Indians where we’re going?” Elijah shifted in the wagon so he could get closer to the front where Pa was sitting. Elijah wanted to learn whatever he could about Indians and would be happy to see one in person. I was anxious to see one, too, but so far we hadn’t seen any. Pa laughed a little. “Yes, son, unfortunately we probably will.” The word confused me. I pulled on Elijah’s sleeve and he fell back beside me in the wagon. “What’s ‘unfortunately’?” “’Unfortunately’ is when something happens and you don’t really want it to.” “Why would you not want to see them, Pa?” Pa glanced over at Ma. She nodded and turned back to look at us. “There are a lot of bad people, Hope, and sometimes Indians are very mean. They like to attack people like us, and sometimes those people get killed.” “But if they’re so mean, why did God make them?” Pa smiled. “That’s just one of God’s mysteries, child.” Ma smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. Ahead of us still lay several hundred miles, a few more cold, short nights, and long, grueling days, but we were ready for it.
Posted on: Mon, 07 Jul 2014 00:52:45 +0000
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