Sarah McNeal, author of  westerns, paranormal & time travel and contemporary romances

The Life and Times of Wyatt Earp

All Pictures from Wickapedia

Although I didn’t get to see it often, I remember a TV western about Wyatt Earp. In the series, Earp was always a hero, unattached and handsome. I believe the theme song included the words “Wyatt Earp, Wyatt Earp, brave, courageous and true.” But was he all those things? Later, there were several movies about him and my favorite was Tombstone. In the movie he fought against a gang known as the ‘cowboys’, had a famous friend named Doc Holliday, a wife who died, Urilla Sutherland, a girlfriend named Mattie who reportedly was a drug addict and then met his true love, Josephine Sarah Marcus who was a beautiful Jewish actress. He also worked as a buffalo skinner, owned a mine, owned a saloon and worked as a lawman. At the end of the movie, we saw his visit to Alaska in his later years and his connection to cowboy actor, William S. Hart. So, how much of the movie was fiction and how much was fact? Well, here are the facts:

Wyatt and his mother (wickapedia)

Wyatt at age 19  He was quite the handsome hunk

 

Wyatt Earp only married once and that was his wife, Urilla Sutherland. She died in childbirth and Wyatt never had any other children. Both Mattie and Josephine were common law wives. Mattie was addicted to laudanum and later, committed suicide by taking an overdose of laudanum in Arizona supposedly pinning for Wyatt. Josie really was Wyatt’s true love. They lived for a time in San Francisco so Josie could live close to her family. Josie stayed by his side for 43 years. Why they didn’t officially marry, I don’t know.

 

 

Wyatt's second wife, Mattie

 

Wyatt's True Love, Josephine

 

Wyatt’s jobs and adventures are so numerous it’s difficult to list them all. He had a reputation as a gun fighter, but did work as a lawman off and on for most of his life. Tombstone and the showdown at the OK Corral really happened. He had many friendships with well known people including Bat Masterson, Doc Holliday, and William Hart who was a famous cowboy actor. Over his lifetime, Wyatt owned several saloons and the Golden Poppy Brothel above one of his saloons. He gambled and loved horse racing. He also was a buffalo skinner in his early years and, like so many in the gold rush era, mined for gold. He looked for gold while in Nome, Alaska with Josie. While in San Francisco he worked for law enforcement secretly chasing down criminals in Mexico. What a life.

He was an imposing figure at six foot tall and 170 pounds in a time when most men were about five foot six. One truth about his character surfaced about him frequently, that he was fearless. Although he owned several saloons, he rarely drank liquor. He sounds like a hero, even though he had his dark side.

Wyatt at age 75

 

Suffice it to say, Wyatt Earp lived a long and active life with many varied pursuits and adventures. He and Josie lived together for 43 years. Wyatt died of chronic cystitis which was most likely prostate cancer at the age of 85 in Los Angeles on January 13, 1929. He is buried in a Jewish cemetery beside his common law wife, Josie. His legacy is that we will always remember him for the fantastic and sometimes outrageous life he led and that he did it all so courageously.

Hills of Eternity, a Jewish cemetery in Colma, California

Sarah McNeal may be found at the following places:

Fantasy and Dreams

http://www.sarahmcneal.com

http://www.sarahmcneal.blogspot.com/

also at Facebook and Twitter

HARMONICA JOE'S RELUCTANT BRIDE

time travel, paranormal, 1910 western

A haunted house, a trunk and a date with destiny. 

Lola Barton discovers a warp in time in an old trunk when she falls into 1910. She finds herself married to Joseph Wilding, a stranger shadowed by secrets. Mistaken for Callie McGraw, a thief and a woman of ill repute, Lola finds her life is threatened by a scoundrel. Joe stands between her and certain death. With danger threatening all around and secrets keeping them apart, can Joe and Lola find their destiny together? Or will time and circumstance forever divide them?

BUY LINKS:

Western Trail Blazers Buy Link

Amazon Buy Link

FOR LOVE OF BANJO

WWI era western

Deceit stands between Banjo Wilding’s love for Maggie O’Leary and his search for the father he never knew.

Banjo Wilding wears a borrowed name and bears the scars and reputation of a lurid past.  To earn the right to ask for Margaret O’Leary’s hand, he must find his father and make something of himself.

Margaret O’Leary has loved Banjo since she was ten years old but standing between her and Banjo is pride, Banjo’s mysterious father and the Great War.

Will either of them find happiness?  

BUY LINKS:

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/136814

Amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=for+love+of+banjo+by+sarah+mcneal

 

 

America's Breed--The Morgan! ~Tanya Hanson

available now

When I needed a breed for the stolen horses in Christmas for Ransom, the first novella in my Lawmen and Outlaws series, I discovered the Morgan. (Book Two, Outlaw Bride, will be out later this year. Oh, and the white horses on both covers are not the stolen Morgans LOL.

This historic American breed started up about the same time as the United States itself, when legendary stallion Figure was born in 1789 in southern New England. He is the origin of our country’s first breed of light horse.

This bay horse had many talents, and he quickly gained fame. Not as big as colonial workhorses nor as tall and long-legged as race horses, he nonetheless consistently outperformed both. He became widely known for his ability to pull stumps and logs for settlers, and was also used as a saddle and driving horse. But he had fun, too, winning races and pulling contests, and was a favorite mount at militia parades. He even carried President James Monroe on a muster-day parade.

All Morgans today trace back to Figure, the “foundation sire.” Since Figure was at one time owned by a man named Justin Morgan, the horse later came to be identified by that name. Subsequently, the entire breed as well. “Justin Morgan” became famed for his prepotency –the passing on all of his distinctive looks, conformation, temperament and athleticism no matter if the mare breeding with him was a large draft horse or an elegant racing type. The “prince of steeds” died at the age of 32 from a kick in his flank by another horse.

His offspring and descendents didn’t disappoint. Blessed with ground-covering gaits, Morgans covered many miles day after day at a steady rate of speed. They were dependable and determined to get the job done, making them a favorite horse in all lines of work. Earning a reputation as “horses of all work,” they were the preferred teams for stagecoach lines, for fieldwork on farms, and for transportation to town by the 1820’s. In the 1840’s, the breed’s trotting ability made it a favorite for harness racing, and its strength found Morgans headed for the California goldfields.

Justin Morgan’s grandson, Black Hawk and great grandson Hale’s Green Mountain Morgan dominated the sires by mid-century. Black Hawk, beloved for his speed and elegant style, sired a world champion trotter, and in the 1850’s, these two stallions charmed visitors to Midwestern state fairs and heightened the demand for Morgans in the west.

They were taken to California as ranch and harness racers, and helped run the Pony Express. Several units of cavalry in the Civil War were comprised of Morgans, including the Vermont Cavalry. U.S. General Philip Sheridan’s charger Winchester (a.k.a. Rienzi), a noble horse immortalized after the war, was a descendant of Black Hawk.

The only survivor of Custer’s regiment at the Battle of Little Bighorn was his Morgan-mustang, Comanche.

Bred to be taller today, the Morgan’s deep body, lovely head, and straight-clean boned legs make it still a hit from cowhands in Montana to show-rings and dressage. The Morgan is at home mounted by tourists on America’s trails and by-ways as well as mounted police in the city. Its gentleness and soundness makes this horse beloved as a therapeutic riding horse for those with various disabilities.

When you’re in Shelburne Vermont, you can visit the Morgan Museum.

What horses "ride” through your favorite books? Ever ridden a Morgan?

Coming late 2013

~Tanya Hanson
www.tanyahanson.com
www.petticoatsandpistols.com

Sod Houses

By Anna Kathryn Lanier

When we think of the pioneer, we usually imagine a log cabin, but what was a pioneer to do when they lived in a place with few, if any, trees…such as the plains of Kansas or Nebraska? The alternative was sod houses, built by sodbusters, a name given the first farmers to break virgin soil on the grasslands of the Great Prairie.  The houses were often built into banks or hillsides, “dug in like coyotes,” as one woman described it.  Other sod houses were free standing. 

The houses were literally made of sod…soil.  They settlers would look for densely packed grass, such as buffalo grass, wire grass, Indian grass and wheat grass. Once found, the sod would be cut into strips between twelve and eighteen inches wide and eighteen inches long and were usually three inches deep.  When building the house, the bricks would be placed lengthwise, side by side to make the walls two feet thick. Every few layers, this process would be reversed, so that the bricks were laid crosswise to bind the walls and make them solid.  The bricks were laid with the grass side down.

Wood was used for door and window frames, with the door frame set into place before construction began.  Once the walls reached the proper height, window frames were put in.  Sod was laid around the sides and boards were place above the window frame. A gap, left at the top above the frame was filled with rags or grass. This allowed the sod to settle without crushing the glass window panes. Pegs were then driven into the sod through holes in the frame to hold it in place.

Often the roof was made of sod, but if the sodbuster could afford it, lumber would be bought. A combination of 2x6’s for a ridge post, 2x4’s for rafters and wood sheathing nailed over the rafters was used to build the roof.  When lumber was too expensive for a roof, sod bricks, usually thinner than those used for the walls, was used. Tar paper could be used to help stop the leaks, but a sod roof wasn’t the best for keeping out the rain.

Chicken coops and ‘caves’ for keeping provisions cool in the summer and to keep them from freezing in the winter were also made of sod bricks.  The temperature on the plains could fluctuate between -10° and 110° Fahrenheit.  Because of the thickness of the walls and insulating ability of the material, sod houses did an excellent job of keeping the houses warm via the stove during the winter and cool during the heat of the summer.

A solidly built sod house could last seven or more years.  Whitewashing or putting stucco on the exterior could improve the longevity of the house.  Most sod houses were simple in design, but Isadore Haumont built a two-story sod house north of Broken Bow, Nebraska in 1884-85.  The house stood until the mid-1960s when it was demolished.

For the most part, people seemed satisfied with their sod homes, though certainly some people found the dirt floors and leaking roofs unbearable. Still, given the lack of lumber in the region, a sod house had to be better than no home at all.

Works Cited and for further reading:

HOW THE WEST WAS WON: THE WILD WEST by Bruce Wexler

http://www.number09.com/oak_grove/SS_sodbusters.htm

http://www.nebraskastudies.org/0500/frameset_reset.html?http://www.nebraskastudies.org/0500/stories/0501_0108.html

Anna Kathryn Lanier
www.aklanier.com http://annakathrynlanier.blogspot.com/ 

Never let your memories be greater than your dreams. ~Doug Ivester 

GUEST JACQUIE ROGERS SHARES A SMOKY BIT OF HISTORY

by Jacquie Rogers

Author Jacquie Rogers

Tobacco is a plant native to Central and South America, migrating north with traders, eventually making its way to eastern Canada. Until Christopher Columbus and his crew introduced tobacco to Europe, the rest of the world was relatively nicotine-free. Nicotine (probably from belladonna or nicotiana africana) had ceremonial uses in Arabia and northern Africa, but wasn't a commonly consumed substance.

Leap ahead to 1492.

Christopher Columbus had no idea what the dried leaves were that the Arawaks gave him as one of the prized gifts, so he threw it overboard. A while later, crew members Rodrigo de Jerez and Luis de Torres described the method used for wrapping dried tobacco leaves, lighting the end, and sucking air through the roll. Jerez enjoyed smoking and is documented as Europe's first smoker.

Problem was, when he got home and the Spaniards saw him blow smoke from his mouth, they threw him in the slammer for seven years. When he finally gained his freedom, tobacco use was accepted and ubiquitous.

Catherine 
de Medici

For the next hundred years, the most popular forms of tobacco use were chew and snuff, although some did smoke cigars. Its use was considered medicinal and when Jean Nicot de Villemain sent snuff to Catherine de Medici, Queen of France, to treat her migraine headaches, she decreed tobacco Herba Regina. Withing the next twenty years, tobacco was thought to cure everything from worms to cancer.

So is everyone smoking? Not quite. Chew and snuff still held most of the tobacco market share, with cigars holding their own at #3. Ah, but you knew someone would be using the pipe soon. England had sent a few people to Virginia Colony they returned smoking pipes, which everyone thought was cool. Pipes caught on quicker than hula-hoops.

In the late 1500s, Spain monopolized the tobacco market and it upset the balance of trade in Europe. Britain needed a variety of natural resources and, well, a little gold wouldn't hurt, either. Solution: the New World. They sent ships to what is now Virginia (and to New England, too) and Jamestown was born. Problem was, the colony was more expensive to support, not to mention the 80% fatality rate, than England got back. Just when the surviving colonists had boarded ship for home, John Rolfe showed up with some teensy little seeds in his pocket.

John Rolfe and 
Pocahontas

Within a decade, tobacco plantations were all over the place, worked mostly by indentured servants and African slaves. John Rolfe died in 1622 but the industry he established lived on, and even today the tobacco industry is important to the economy in the region. Tobacco subsidized the Revolutionary War, used as collateral for the loan from France.

When Charles II took the throne in 1660, he brought his snuff habit with him. Snuff was the drug of choice of the French aristocracy and soon spread through the English aristocracy as well, and this trend held through the next century and more. Charlotte, King George III's wife, was especially fond of it and Napolean used 7 pounds of snuff a month. Achoo!

Back to the American colonies: Pierre Lorillard's processing plant in New York City packaged snuff, pipe tobacco, and rolled cigars. P. Lorillard is still in business. From Lorillard, About Us:

Lorillard, Inc., through its Lorillard Tobacco Company subsidiary, is the third largest manufacturer of cigarettes in the United States. Founded in 1760, Lorillard is the oldest continuously operating tobacco company in the United States.

Bull Durham 
loose tobacco

During the 1700s, several surgeons reported health risks. John Hill said snuff could cause cancer of the nose, Benjamin Rush said that smoking or chewing tobacco leads to drunkenness. Not many paid heed to these warnings. From Historian.org:

1762: General Israel Putnam introduces cigar-smoking to the US. After a British campaign in Cuba, "Old Put" returns with three donkey-loads of Havana cigars; introduces the customers of his Connecticut brewery and tavern to cigar smoking.

In the 1800s, cigar use prevailed. When cigars weren't available, the roll-your-own cigarettes had to make do. When you think of the Old West, you think of Stetson hats, Arbuckles Coffee, and Bull Durham tobacco [Delbert Trew]. But when the cowhands got to town, they still wanted a fine cigar. Chewing was still popular, too, and in 1890 US residents chewed three pounds of tobacco per capita a year.

Pall Mall ad, 1926

It should be mentioned that the Women's Temperance Movement had tobacco on their hit list because it dried the mouth and made men crave alcohol.

For the sake a brevity, we'll skip ahead. Cigarettes had never been the most popular form of tobacco use. But in World War I, the soldiers received cigarette rations, and when they came home, a huge percentage were addicted. Bull Durham advertises, "When our boys light up, the Huns will light out." [Historian.org]

Joan Crawford

Cigarette smoking became prevalent, and, in the Roaring Twenties, even women started smoking. The flappers delighted in long-stemmed cigarette holders, considered quite chic. "I'd Walk a Mile for a Camel" successfully advertised Camel cigarettes, a slogan used for decades. To compete, Marlboro was introduced as a woman's cigarette, "Mild as May." Lucky Strikes targetted women, also, using female stars of the day as spokeswomen. Many other brands that still exist today were introduced in the 1920s.

By 1939, 66% of the men under age 40 smoked. In World War II, the troops were again provided with cigarettes in their rations. Everyone puffed happily away, but the health risks were piling up. Many of the most popular television shows were sponsored by tobacco companies. Magazine ads showed doctors testifying that the advertised brand was the healthiest. In 1954, the Marlboro Cowboy was introduced. Marlboro cigarettes had a .25% market share at the time, probably one of the most successful ad campaigns ever.

Marlboro Man

But in the 1950s, the lawsuits from those adversely affected by tobacco started rolling in. Scientific evidence against smoking piled up. In the 1960s, reports of cigarettes causing lung cancer came from everywhere, including the US Surgeon General. Still, tobacco companies denied the risks and battled in the courts to deny culpability in tobacco user's ills. In 1969, cigarette ads were banned from the airwaves.

Just when you think cigarette-smoking might abate, Virginia Slims comes out for women, advertising, "You've come a long way, baby." At the same time, health warnings had to be printed prominently on cigarette packages. And Joe Camel swept on the scene. At one time, Joe Camel was the second-most recognized animated character by schoolchildren, right behind #1, Mickey Mouse.

Currently, smoking is prohibited in public buildings in nearly all states, and where I live, smoking is very politically-incorrect, even in private. The cost is steep, both in cigarette prices and in health risks. John Rolfe made it possible to finance the Revolutionary War, but it sure would have been healthier for all of us if he could've done it with maize instead of tobacco.

Sources American Tobacco CNN.com Healthliteracy Historian.org Lorillard, Inc. North Carolina State University Tobacco.org

Hearts of Owyhee Men in Chaps and Women Who Lasso Them!

Much Ado About Marshals

Much Ado About Madams

Much Ado About Mavericks

Find Jacquie Rogers at http://www.jacquierogers.com. For a real treat, read her bio and you'll see why her books are so popular. Other places to find Jacquie are:

Wstern Blog: http://romancingthewest.blogspot.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/71253.Jacquie_Rogers

She's also on Facebook, Twitter, and other social media sites.

Thanks for stopping by!

The Importance of Detail

By Charlene Raddon

Researching a book involves a lot of reading, in books, online, at a library. Research involves fact-checking and the verification of numerous details. Often writers, especially those who write historicals, get so wrapped up with the bigger facts, they forget about the little details.

Do oak trees grow in Wyoming? If so, what kind are they? Towering? Stately? Or the scrubby kind, more like bushes? How is the town in the story laid out? What about the house? Do you know how many closets the house has? How many bathrooms?



These seem like very minor points, but often it is the tiny details that add realism to a story and bring it alive.
Here is the opening paragraph of Lucia St. Clair Robson’s book Ride The Wind, one of the best I’ve ever read.

 A rolling sea of deep grass flecked with a foam of primroses washed up on islands of towering oaks and pecans and walnuts. The pale blue sky was fading at the edges as the sun heated up the day. Soon it would be hot enough for the children to sneak down to the nearby Navasota River to splash in the cook, shaded waters. The warm East Texas wind blew through the stockade door, bringing company with it. It was a morning in May; a time of sunshine and peace, an open gate and Indians.

 Note the author didn’t write “a field of primroses.” No, she penned “a rolling sea of deep grass flecked with a foam of primroses.” Far more provocative than simply a field of flowers. And those primroses don’t just lay there, they “wash up on islands of towering…” Wow, what a picture. And why is it so visual and impressive? The tiny details.

 I also love that paragraph’s subtly. What it doesn’t say is as effective as what it does say. The stockade door is open, bringing company. She lets you wonder what kind of company, and then answers it so subtlety a reader might miss the red warning light flashing in her eyes. “A time of sunshine and peace, an open gate and Indians.” In her next paragraph she blows that peaceful scene she created wide open and fills it with terror and violence.

 Small details, such as the type of oak or the layout of a town, seem so infinitesimal, commonplace and unimportant that the author might not both checking them out. And yet, they could stand out like that flashing red light to someone who knows they’re wrong. I read a book once by a bestselling historical author who had stately, towering oaks growing on a ranch in Wyoming. So what? Unless the ranch owner had those trees transplanted from Maine or somewhere back east, they are not going to exist. The oaks in Wyoming, and other Intermountain states, do not tower and are not stately. They’re what we call scrub oaks because they’re scrubby, often more like bushes than trees. That error screamed at me when I read it and my opinion of that author slid downward. She hadn’t done her research, not all of it anyway.

 In another historical novel I read, the hero went out with his rifle, shot a five-point stag elk, threw the carcass over his shoulder and carried it back to camp. Anyone see the red flag here? Male elk are not called stags. Stags are deer. Male elk are bulls. And they weigh about 500 pounds. That author’s hero must have been Paul Bunyan to have carried so much weight on his shoulder for miles to reach camp. I might have laughed at that boo-boo if I hadn’t found it so annoying.

 True, most readers would probably pass right over these small errors without even noticing them, but do we want to risk losing a fan over something so trifling? I never bought another book by those two authors. I have bought every book Lucia St. Clair wrote.

 

So never doubt the power inherent in small details. Use them to add definition, visual appeal, and  life to your work, life so vibrant the reader can’t turn away, only keep on turning pages until there are no more to turn.

Growing up in Kansas and Oklahoma during the depression and dust bowl periods, my mother had the improbable joy of living in several dugouts.

In my book, To Have And To Hold, I used some of the details she told me about living in such homes to bring a little more life to my tale.

~*~ 

Buck braced on his arms above her and gazed down at her flushed face, wanting to drag the moment out. Her eyes were open, watching him. Her hands slid down his back urging him closer.

Unfortunately, he had hesitated too long. A strange sound intruded into his consciousness, a scratching that seemed to come from overhead, and set the hair at his nape on end. "What in tarnation . . . ?

Tempest went stiff and still. "Centipedes," she whispered.

Every hair on his body prickled. "What?"                  

“Centipedes. The storm’s disturbed them. They've come down out of the sod and are running around inside the paper tacked to the ceiling."

He sat back on his heels, staring up at the dim, candle-lit ceiling and the flimsy newspaper that was all that kept the insects from plummeting down on them. "Judas,” he swore. “Must be hundreds of them."

~*~

In the next instant, my characters, Buck and Tempest, heard a loud snap overhead. They barely managed to gather up the children and escape before the roof caved in. A pretty compelling scene, but would it have been as alive and gripping without those centipedes? My grandfather wouldn’t have thought so. He was terrified of them, more almost than he was of the possibility of the roof caving in.

The next book you read, yours or someone else’s, take note of the details and what they bring to the story. You may be surprised.
***
Blurb:
A woman without a prayer…
A widow with two children, Tempest Whitney had to mortgage everything to repay the money her husband had stolen. But even as she struggles to hold onto her Utah homestead, a scheming rancher buys up her debts, demanding she either get off his land or marry him. Then a dark-haired stranger shows up, claiming to be her dead husband…

A man without a past….
Buck Maddux spent two years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. Now a death bed promise has brought him to Tempest’s dugout. A man without roots, he doesn’t plan to stay—or to feel so fiercely protective of this feisty beauty he saves from a forced marriage. Suddenly, Buck yearns for a home, a family, a lasting love. But what can he offer Tempest? The surprising answer lies in the forbidden canyons of an ancient Anasazi tribe, where fortune and danger await—along with a passion more precious than gold.
***
Buy Link

To have and to Hold:
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****
Charlene first serious writing attempt came in 1980 when she awoke one morning from an unusually vivid and compelling dream. Deciding that dream needed to be made into a book, she dug out an old portable typewriter and went to work. That book never sold, but her second one, Tender Touch, became a Golden Heart finalist and earned her an agent. Soon after, she signed a three book contract with Kensington Books. Five of Charlene's western historical romances were published between 1994 and 1999: Taming Jenna, Tender Touch (1994 Golden Heart Finalist under the title Brianna), Forever Mine (1996 Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer's Choice Award Nominee and Affaire de Coeur Reader/Writer Poll finalist), To Have and To Hold Affaire de Coeur Reader/Writer Poll finalist); and writing as Rachel Summers, The Scent of Roses. Forever Mine and Tender Touch are available as e-books and after January 24, To Have and To Hold will be as well. When not writing, Charlene loves to travel, crochet, needlepoint, research genealogy, scrapbook, and dye Ukrainian eggs.

Links:

htp://www.charleneraddon.com/
http://www.charleneraddon.blogspot.com/
ttps://www.facebook.com/CharleneRaddon?ref=hl

The Iron Crosses of the Great Plains

By Celia Yeary
Symbols of Strength and Spirituality

 

Imagine you are an immigrant, perhaps German or Polish, living on the Great Plains of America during the Nineteenth Century. An outbreak of diphtheria takes the lives of some friends, neighbors, and worst of all, your own little son. You go to the barn to find pieces of wood to fashion a small coffin. Heartbroken, you and your wife bury your precious little boy. You forgo the common wooden cross to mark the grave. 

TYPICAL PIONEER FAMILY

Instead, you visit the "smithy" in the village, another immigrant like yourself who understands you want a traditional iron cross, one that will last centuries.

You work with the smithy to create a special cross made of iron and other bits of scrap metal he might have. The cross will be unique, one of a kind, to mark the child's grave. The design will tell a story...

 
In September 2005, my husband and I embarked on our fourth and last trip to Europe. After landing in Frankfurt, we began a long trip by tour bus through Central Europe. I admit the trip did not interest me at first, but my husband thought we should see this area of Europe. By the time we finished the tour, I said it was second on my list of favorites.

We visited places in several countries (in order): Frankfurt, Berlin, Warsaw, Poznan, Auschwitz, Krakow, Slovakia, Budapest, Vienna, Prague, Rothenberg. and back to the Frankfurt Airport.

During this long journey, I was enthralled with everything (except Auschwitz), but one vision remained with me--the iron crosses in cemeteries on the long drive between Eastern Germany and into Poland. The tour guide never mentioned them, but I'd watch out the bus window and see one cemetery after another among fields of flowers or crops of some kind.

The iron crosses were easily identifiable. The cemeteries always lay close to the road, and since the bus didn't travel very fast on the narrow roads, I had time to study quite a few.

When we arrived home, I looked up information about the Wrought Iron Crosses, and learned how and why they were made.

Several years later, we...once again...were on a tour bus. This time we were on one of several tours to SEE AMERICA FIRST. No, we saw it last! We flew to Denver and met our fellow passengers, and boarded the bus the next morning. (3/4 of the passengers were from the UK--I fell in love with the joyous group discovering America.)

CEMETERY IN KANSAS

On the first leg of the trip, we drove from Denver to Cheyenne and on to South Dakota to Mt. Rushmore and Deadwood.  Much of the countryside was flat--the Plains or Prairies. Once again I saw cemeteries with the iron crosses. I was thrilled, and tried to explain to others, but no one else seemed as excited.

The iron crosses are made and used by Germans from Russia, for the most part, and some were made by the Irish, the Hungarians, The Czechs, The Ukrainians, and others.

These immigrants who came to America during the migration to the West brought with them the blacksmiths and artists who created iron crosses for their deceased loved ones.
The unique crosses are scattered from central Canada to Kansas, from the Mississippi to the Rockies. Those prevalent in the Dakotas are of the Germans from Russia.

The cross represents the sacred.

The iron represents strength.

Unlike wooden crosses, they were tough enough to withstand prairie fires, storms, and even time itself.
Each cross is unique, made from metals that were available at the time. The size, shape, style, color, design, and symbols all have cultural significance. Each one tells a story, and not everyone can "read" the story. For example, one features an iron snake crawling up the cross. At the very top of this same cross is an angel. It tells the story of creation, the fall of man, and heavenly salvation.
Common features were the sun, a heart, a star, leaves, flowers, a tree, and shapes of animals. Filigree was popular on many crosses.

Have you seen the Iron Crosses of the Plains of the United States? I'd love to know if anyone else has seen these, either in Europe or America.

Thank you for visiting my blog today.

 

Sources:

Wikimedia Commons

Encyclopedia of the Great Plains

Rural Kansas Tourism 





Lost gold legends from the Civil War

By Ciara Gold

I'm so excited to have been invited to participate in this blog. Since this is my first post, I'll begin with a very short introduction. I write historical western romances but I also write fantasy, time-travels and sci-fi romances. Right now, I've been focusing most of my energy on my first love; historical westerns. Being a native Texan, there's just something comforting in the genre.

When I first started writing Texas Forged, my first thought was to have the hero and his half brothers be involved with a missing confederate gold shipment. Thus began my research into this possibility. I stumbled upon a story that would have been great to incorporate if I could have made the dates match up right. Alas, I abandoned the idea and went a different direction with my bad-boy hero.

However, the story is still interesting enough to make note of here about The Lost Legend of Keel Mountain. I don’t want to rewrite the story as it’s told so well at the link provided, but legends of this nature always provide fodder for story ideas.  Somewhere at the base of Keel Mountain in Alabama there could be hidden gold.

Unfortunately, the location didn’t work well with my story line so I continued to hunt for stories of lost gold and came across another interesting tale.  Supposedly there are buried gold ingots somewhere in the Elk-Cameron County area of Pennsylvania.  A very young lieutenant in the Union Army was given an important mission; to see to the delivery of a wagon load of gold bullion. He was given a wagon with a false bottom, an escort of 8 soldiers and orders to avoid the enemy as he travelled from Wheeling, West Virginia to Washington, DC.

Blue Knob (Pennsylvania)

Somehow in the course of trying to stay hidden from enemy eyes, he took the caravan through the very remote regions of Pennsylvania. In Ridgeway, their reception was rather hostile. Then they headed toward St. Mary’s. There, the lieutenant took ill. He’d been fighting bouts of fever throughout the journey but this time, his fever caused him to blurt out the purpose of his mission. Until this point, he was the only one in the group that knew of the gold. Their civilian guide took over as the lieutenant was too ill. They left St. Mary’s for Driftwood and that was the last anyone heard of the caravan until the guide showed up a month later with a fantastical tale of the loss of every man on the convoy and the loss of the cargo.

The guide was questioned extensively but the gold was never found. To this day, many believe $1,500,000 in gold still remains lost in the mountains of Pennsylvania.  Read the full story here.

Again, I couldn’t make the time frame for this story work with mine so I eventually made up my own tale of stolen loot.  As horrid as the Civil War was for both sides, it has given writers a wealth of intrigue to pull from. For those of us writing historical westerns around the 1870s, it's a great way to give our heroes and heroines a background rich in angst.

During the war, the hero in Texas Forged steals from his father, a man who won't claim the relationship. Years later, he still feels guilt for the crime. Eventually, circumstances force him to make things right and he goes in search of the buried loot only to come face to face with a past he'd rather forget.

Please enjoy an excerpt from Texas Forged:

“Care to explain this?”

Galin Walker took the rumpled, thirteen-year-old wanted poster and stared at an image that was both familiar and foreign.

“Looks just like you.” Deputy Nate Brisco rocked back and forth on his dusty boots. “Well, minus the scar on your forehead.”

Galin studied the drawing with an impassive face, but inside, volcanic heat rivaling the high temperatures in his forge threatened to consume his every breath. The likeness on the worn placard captured the stupidity and cocky confidence of youth. His hand shook ever so slightly when he handed the paper back to Nate. “You need a pair of those new-fangled eyeglasses the mercantile’s been advertisin’.”

The law official presented an imposing figure with his Colt strapped low on his hip and his brass badge polished to a shine. Galin swiped his forehead with a damp rag and waited for the man to pull out his cuffs.

“Found it wedged against the side of the new saloon. A few years old but…”

Was it Galin’s imagination, or had the smithy grown hotter? He tugged at the collar of his chambray shirt and licked the salty moisture from his lips. “But?”

Nate shook his head and tapped the thick paper. “Man on the poster has your last name. Know anything about him? Relative perhaps?”

He peered at the rumpled sheet, fear rushing through his veins like a river during a flood. “Lots of folks own that handle.” Why the hell was that document surfacing now?

“True.” Nate spit a wad of tobacco onto the dirt floor and used the toe of his worn boot to cover the evidence of his bad habit. “Didn’t I hear you say you were from Alabama?”

“Along with about a fourth of the town’s population, I reckon.” Would the law official buy that nonchalant bullshit?

“I sincerely doubt many Alabamians found their way here. In fact, I only know of one ornery cuss, and that’s you. Regardless, the face sure bears a resemblance to your ugly mug.”

The knot around Galin’s intestines tightened. “If you think I’m the person they’re lookin’ for, just arrest me and get it done with.” Maybe it was time to stop looking over his shoulder.

www.ciaragold.com