Would you like to win an advance copy of Kansas Courtship? It’s my March 2010 release, but  I’m giving away three copies today.  To enter the drawing, just leave a comment below.  I’ll pull three names at random. 

This is Book #3 in the “After the Storm” series, a continuity set in 1860 in High Plains, Kansas, a town that’s been devastated by a tornado.  The first two books are High Plains Bride by Valerie Hansen and Heartland Wedding by Renee Ryan.  We’ll be hearing more from Renee on Saturday.

 Here’s the back cover blurb:

 Rising Storm . . .

Town founder Zeb Garrison is finally getting his wish–a qualified physician is coming to High Plains. Yet when Dr. N. Mitchell turns out to be the very pretty Nora Mitchell, Zeb is furious. The storm-torn town needs a doctor, but Zeb needs someone he can trust–not another woman who’s deceived him. If Nora’s going to change his mind, she’ll have to work fast. All she has is a one-month trial to prove her worth . . . to High Plains and to Zeb.

And here’s an excerpt . . .

Chapter One

 August 1860
High Plains Kansas

      “Look over yonder, missy,” said the old man driving the freight wagon. “That’s where a twister snatched up those children.”

     Dr. Nora Mitchell turned on the high seat. With the dusty bonnet shielding her eyes, she looked past Mr. Crandall’s gray beard to a lush meadow. A breeze stirred the grass and she smelled loamy earth. With the scent came a whiff of the mules pulling the three freight wagons the last miles to High Plains. In her black medical bag she had the precious letter from Zebulun Garrison inviting her to interview for her first position as a paid physician.

     Never mind that she’d signed her letter to him as “Dr. N. Mitchell.” What difference did her gender make when it came to practicing medicine? None to her, but it mattered terribly to men with old fashioned ideas.

     She’d lived with that prejudice since the day she’d entered Geneva Medical College, the alma mater of Elizabeth Blackwell, the first female doctor in America. The prejudice had become even more challenging once she graduated. She’d interviewed for fourteen positions in the past year and received fourteen rejections, all because of her gender.

     You’re female, Dr. Mitchell. That makes you unqualified.

     Women shouldn’t be subjected to the vulgarities of medicine.

     Perhaps you can find work as a midwife. That suits your gender.

     She’d been close to despair when a cousin wrote to her about an advertisement in the Kansas Gazette. Wanted: a licensed physician for a new Kansas town. Compensation dependent on experience. Contact Zebulun Garrison, High Plains, Kansas.

     She’d posted a letter to Mr. Garrison immediately. Not only had he offered “Dr. N. Mitchell” an interview, he’d sounded enthusiastic. “Our current doctor is retiring,” he’d written back. “We are a growing a community in need of a skilled practitioner with an adventurous spirit.”

     Nora had pictured bustling shops and a busy church. She’d imagined delivering babies, setting broken bones and treating croup and sore throats. Those expectations had changed as she’d traveled with the Crandalls. She’d split the riding time between Mr. Crandall and his wife, a buxom woman who’d birthed nine children and never stopped talking. As they’d traveled from St. Joseph to Topeka, south to Fort Riley and on to High Plains, the woman had told horrific tales about Kansas weather. Two months ago, a tornado wiped out half of High Plains and devastated a wagon train. Most frightening of all, it had snatched away the children Mr. Crandall just mentioned.

To pre-order from Amazon, click here:   Kansas Courtship, After the Storm.

Good luck to everyone! 

“Captain” John Hance was reputedly the Canyon’s first non-Native American resident.  He built a cabin east of Grandview Point at the trailhead of an ancient Native American trail he improved to allow access to his asbestos mining claim in the Canyon. He started giving tours of the canyon after his attempts at mining asbestos failed, largely due to the expense of removing the asbestos from the canyon. 

The trail, completed in 1884 and commonly called the Old Hance Trail by historians, was to become Grand Canyon’s first tourist trail, as Hance quickly realized there was money to be made guiding wide-eyed tourists into the depths of the Canyon.

 I love this. This is what makes America great. Hance abandoned mining for tourism in the mid-1880s. To me that’s just a man seeing a way to make money, supplying a product others want, a product that is born out of his life and his skill and his hard work.

 Hance delighted in telling canyon stories to visitors, favoring the whopper of a tale over mere facts. With a straight face, Hance told travelers how he had dug the canyon himself, piling the excavated earth down near Flagstaff (a dirt pile now known as the San Francisco Peaks). 

I exchanged emails with a man who works at Grand Canyon National Park and does re-enactments of John Hance’s tall tales. I asked him if any of those tales were written down and he directed me to one recording of a tale similar to one John Hance told. But Hance never told the same story, the same way, twice and he never wrote any of them down, so only oral history survives. Despite his many outrageous claims, Hance left a lasting legacy at the Grand Canyon,  passing away in 1919, the year the Grand Canyon became a National Park.  Hance was the first person buried in what would become the Grand Canyon Pioneer Cemetery.

The trail John Hance found still exists. It’s listed as unmaintained and in poor condition. A Falcon Guidebook, Hiking Grand Canyon National Park, calls it a vigorous rim-to-rim backpack of three or more days—the South Rim’s most difficult trail. One man, an experience back country hiker said that even having been over the trail before, the time he took the trail with it in mind to report on it, he got lost five different times-by lost I mean he realized he’d gotten off the trail and had to backtrack to find it. There are miles with no discernable trail. I also, just because research is maddening, found this account of the Hance Trail.

The New Hance descends into Red Canyon (a side canyon of the Grand) and arrives at Hance Rapids on the Colorado River. Although the New Hance is a secondary trail, it is well marked and easy to follow. Note that this is really different than the other report. So what is the truth? Ah, research! Such fun.

One picture I found showed people rock climbing down a stretch of rock face, so that seems pretty challenging to me but when you think back to those days, it was probably a wonder to even find a way down. No state roads department was in there clearing it and paving it.

So, has anyone been there? Have any of you gone down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon? Anyone spent the night at Phantom Ranch or taken the burro ride? If so, you have my deepest respect because this is a truly rugged place.

Tell me about it if you were down there.

 Mary Connealy

I grew up in West Texas, in Mitchell County.  So far, I’ve used my hometown of Colorado City as the actual setting for only one of my books.  But all of my westerns, whether historical or contemporary, are set in fictional towns in that part of the country.  Its wonderful history fuels this writer’s heart and imagination.

The first ranch was established in the county in 1875.  Only a handful of ranchers followed until the building of the Texas and Pacific Railroad spurred settlement of the area.

Mitchell County and Colorado City, known then simply as Colorado, were organized in 1881.  (For clarity, I’m going to add City.)  Ranchers moved thousands of Texas Longhorns into the vast open range of West Texas.  Colorado City sprang to life with stores, saloons, boarding houses, hotels, churches and a school.

When it came time to sell some cattle, those same ranchers—from all across West Texas and southeast New Mexico—herded them to Colorado City for shipment to Kansas City and Chicago.  They also hauled in wagonloads of buffalo bones, gathered from the prairie, and sent them to factories back east to make fertilizer and buttons. 

Supplies for the town and ranches came into Colorado City by rail and were hauled by wagon all across West Texas and the Panhandle.  The area needed people, and they came, full of dreams and the determination to make them happen.  The descendants of many of those families are still there.

Bob and Betty Gary arrived in Mitchell County in 1881.  Mr. Gary was employed at a grocery in Colorado City until he and Betty bought a ranch south of town in 1898.  Several years later, their daughter, Ewell, married Charles Thompson.  When they inherited the land, they changed the name to Thompson Ranch—which is where I grew up. 

My parents moved to the ranch in 1945, a year after they were married.  Soon Daddy became the ranch foreman, a position he held until his death over fifty years later.  The ranch had six thousand acres which my dad, my brother, and one or two hired hands worked—raising around three hundred head of Hereford cattle and farming cotton.

But when I needed a fictional ranch for the powerful, wealthy family in my new series from Revell, The Callahans of Texas, I wanted something bigger.  So I moseyed down the highway and borrowed sixty thousand acres from the Spade Ranch.  It runs over a hundred thousand acres, so I figured they wouldn’t mind letting me use some of their range.  Imaginary cattle don’t eat much. 

And it has an illustrious history.  Technically, it is the Renderbrook Spade.  Renderbrook comes from a large spring on the ranch, named for Captain Joseph Rendlebrock who led Company G, Fourth Cavalry through the area in 1872.  They were scouting for Indians or Indian signs as well as exploring and mapping the little known country west and north of Fort Concho, which is near San Angelo.

They had a brief skirmish with some Indians, which lasted “less than no time.”  The little battle helped attach the Captain’s name to the spring, although someone botched the spelling, and called it Renderbrook.

By 1882, brothers J.W. and Dudley Snyder bought the land around Renderbrook Springs.  They’d been ranching for several years and knew that the free range wouldn’t last.  They built a substantial headquarters, known as the “White House.”  It is still there today.

They did well until the financial panic in 1885 was followed by a severe drought in 1886-1888.  Ranching had changed since the early days, and capital requirements for land, livestock and improvements such as wells, windmills, tanks and fencing were beyond the reach of most who had built the beef cattle industry. 

The Snyders needed a buyer for their ranch when Isaac Ellwood and his son, William L., arrived in Colorado City in 1889. 

Originally from New York, Isaac had had a few adventures—working as a teamster on the Erie Canal and later spending time in the California goldfields.  But he had settled in DeKalb, Illinois and established a prosperous hardware business.  Adequate fencing was a common problem, and Isaac worked on a design for barbed wire.  In 1874, when he saw that Joseph Glidden’s design was better than his, Isaac formed a partnership with the older man.  Two years later, Glidden wanted to retire and sold his interest in the company to Washburn & Moen, a wire manufacturing company from Massachusetts.  Isaac now had a powerful partner that changed a little cottage industry into big business.  He made millions.

When Isaac and his son came to West Texas to promote their barbed wire, he was already a respected horse breeder and owned a progressive farm complex outside of DeKalb.   But he wanted land in Texas.  They stayed at the St. James Hotel, the ritziest one in Colorado City.  It was favored by cattlemen, particularly the big operators.

When the Ellwoods toured Renderbrook, they liked what they saw, especially its potential.  They bought the ranch, but the Snyders kept their cattle and their brand. 

Isaac turned over the running of the ranch to William L. and went back to Illinois to tend to the wire business and harvest at his farm.  William L. began searching for a herd.  He found it two hundred miles away in the Texas Panhandle.  He purchased 800 head of cattle from J. F. “Spade” Evans and acquired the brand which is shaped like a short-handled spade.  Thus the ranch became Renderbrook Spade, generally known as Spade Ranch.

I not only borrowed some land for the Callahans, I appropriated the spring, too, renaming it Aidan’s Spring in honor of Aidan Callahan.  He brought the first herd into my fictionalized version of the area and established the ranch and the little town of Callahan Crossing. 

The modern day Callahans—Dub and Sue and their children Will, Chance and Jenna—are as loyal to the ranch and the town as Aidan was.  Each of the three books has a stand alone romance, but their love of God, family and West Texas runs strongly through the series.

And the siblings need that support.  In Jenna’s Cowboy, which hits the stores in January, Jenna and her family help their friend and her hero, Nate Langley, deal with post traumatic stress disorder after serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.

In Emily’s Chance, which comes out next September, Chance recruits their help to try to win the heart of a big-city career woman who has her five-year plan all laid out—and it doesn’t include him.

And in the last, yet unnamed book, Will falls for a courageous young woman who is pregnant, unmarried and homeless.  The family pitches in to show Savannah that wealth or poverty doesn’t matter when it comes to love.

My thanks to Cheryl St.John and the ladies of Petticoats and Pistols for asking me to be a guest blogger.

Leave a comment to enter the drawing for a copy of Jenna’s Cowboy.

Jenna’s Cowboy is Sharon Gillenwater’s nineteenth published novel.  She’s written for both the ABA and CBA, with settings ranging from Regency England and Scotland to Texas in the 1880’s and modern day Texas.  Five of her books were published under the penname Sharon Harlow.  Visit her website at http://www.sharongillenwater.com   She is also on Facebook.

Sharon will send an autographed copy of Jenna’s Cowboy to one person who comments this weekend!

Download an excerpt from Jenna’s Cowboy, go Revell’s website.

My new book

The Husband Tree

releases January 1st.

I’ve already talked to someone who’s found it in a store and it’s no longer listed as a ‘pre-order’ on Amazon.

So it’s out there.

A cynical cowboy has to convince the toughest cowgirl you’ll ever meet he should join her family. . .and then convince himself.

 Here’s the beginning 

The Husband Tree

Belle Tanner pitched dirt right on Anthony’s handsome, worthless face.

 It was spitefulness that made her enjoy doing that. But she was sorely afraid Anthony Santoni’s square jaw and curly dark hair had tricked her into agreeing to marry him.

Which made her as big an idiot as Anthony.

Now he was dead and she was left to dig the grave. Why, oh why didn’t she just skip marrying him and save herself all this shoveling?

She probably should have wrapped him in a blanket, but blankets were hard to come by in Montana. . .unlike husbands.

She labored on with her filling, not bothering to look down again at the man who had shared her cabin and her bed for the last two years. She only hoped when she finished she didn’t forget where she’d buried Anthony’s no-account hide. She regretted not marking William’s and Gerald’s graves now for fear she’d dig in the same spot and uncover their bones. As she recalled, she’d planted William on the side nearest the house, thinking it had a nice view down the hill over their property. She wasn’t so sure about Gerald, but she’d most likely picked right, because she’d dug the hole and hadn’t hit bones. Unless critters had dug Gerald up and dragged him away.

Belle had to admit she didn’t dig one inch deeper than was absolutely necessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Husband Tree is available now on Amazon. And I’ve had my first reported sighting in a bookstore, so it’s HERE!. I have my author’s copies now. So I can give one away! YAY!

I’ve been playing my Mannheim Steamroller CD constantly on my computer. I just love their version of Deck the Halls. It says Christmas to me. And, I just heard Amy Grant singing Breath of Heaven. So, so beautiful, sort of downbeat and haunting but I keep thinking about it after it stops playing. I just love it.

Listen: 

Breath of Heaven

For a chance to win a signed copy of The Husband Tree and, in the spirit of the season, tell me:

Your Favorite Christmas Song

And to buy The Husband Tree on Amazon

CLICK HERE

And Have a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS

http://maryconnealy.com/

Amber Stockton

If you picked up almost any novel in the early 1990’s, about half of them would have a theme connected in some way to amnesia. It could be the main character or a supporting character. Either way, that theme and topic flooded the market for a brief period of time. So much so, that once the phase passed, editors wouldn’t even touch a novel that mentioned the word let alone had it as a plot element.

It’s a good thing that isn’t the case today. I’ve read some amazing novels in recent years where one character suffered from some form of amnesia and loved how the author brought the story around.

Hearts and Harvest

One of my books that I have circulating, trying to sell, involves the heroine suffering from a case of amnesia, but over 100 years ago, it was quite a bit different than we view it today. In fact, although the term dates back to the 1600’s, there weren’t a whole lot of doctors who diagnosed it as such until the late 1800’s. When I discovered this, it took my story in a turn for the better….and more entertaining.

What I discovered in most of the smaller towns or further out west in the more unsettled areas, the average doctor didn’t encounter many cases of this. So, being unfamiliar with how to diagnose or treat a patient suffering from it, they did one of the only things they could do. They compared it to what they *did* know.

And that was sleepwalking.

Quite often, sleepwalkers act and speak in ways that are foreign to their normal behavior patterns or personalities. Then, when they wake up, they have no recollection of what they did. In many ways, they suffer memory loss.

Patterns and Progress

In addition, most believed that you should never awaken a sleepwalker for fear that you might separate their mind from their body and cause the person to suffer far greater maladies than whatever is causing them to behave this way. From medical books of the time period of my story, there are many documented cases exactly like this.

So, when a doctor was faced with a patient suffering from amnesia due to a traumatic experience, an injury or any other cause, that doctor might caution those who know the patient to tread lightly. Such is the case in my story. My heroine is a prim and proper lady from Philadelphia who escaped an arranged marriage and fled east, then married a successful cattle baron in Wyoming. While journeying by train to visit her uncle, her train is robbed and an explosion causes her to lose her memory.

Traveling on the same train is a young woman fleeing from an abusive marriage and coming to take a job as a barmaid in a saloon. A case of mistaken identity has my heroine working as that barmaid while news of her death is sent back home to her husband. When her foreman finds her, he can’t believe his eyes. He’d always held a torch for her, and now he has his chance! Once her husband finds out, the town doctor issues the warning that he shouldn’t reveal his identity to his wife for fear that further harm than good could result. The foreman takes his boss to see his wife, but the ranch owner can’t touch her or tell her who he is. Instead, he has to sit back and watch his wife flirt with his foreman!

And so the story continues…

As you can see, time *does* make a difference in medical discoveries, treatments, and diagnoses. In the case of my story, this discovery added a whole new dimension that made the writing of it a whole lot of fun!

The U.S. Camel Corps was an experiment by the United States Army using camels in the Southwest.

While the camels did the work well they were nasty and frightened horses, at least that’s the general explanation for why the program failed.

Secretary of War Jefferson Davis (this was pre-Civil War, how INTERESTING that Jefferson Davis was then Secretary of War, huh? He was encouraged to import camels to supply Western wagon routes. It was a dry, hot , hostile region, not unlike the camel’s natural habitat.

Davis, sold the idea to Congress. “For military purposes, and for reconnaissance, it is believed the dromedary would supply a want now seriously felt in our service.”

Congress agreed and appropriated $30,000.

33 camels were imported from the Middle East. They were loaded onto a Navy ship—and yeah, that was as hard as it sounds—and transported to Texas. There Lieutenant Edward Fitzgerald Beale took over.

Along with the camels came Hadji Ali to train soldiers in camel wrangling. The Americans slurred Hadji Ali’s name into Hi Jolly and the man became very well known in the west.

Beale set out in June, 1857, with Hi Jolly along, for California. Camels carried 600 to 800 pounds each and traveled 25 to 30 miles a day. After reaching California the expedition returned to Texas, a success — at least to Beale.

Beale wrote. “They pack water for days under a hot sun and never get a drop; they pack heavy burdens of corn and oats for months and never get a grain; and on the bitter greasewood and other worthless shrubs, not only subsist, but keep fat.”

He concluded, “I look forward to the day when every mail route across the continent will be conducted and worked altogether with this economical and noble brute.”

But perhaps he was too optimistic. What he didn’t say was that the camels didn’t take to the West’s rocky soil. It actually became a huge problem because, unlike the smooth sand of the Arabian dessert, American sand was more rocky. It got stuck between the camel’s toes. They experimented with many ways to solve this problem. Hi Jolly for a time wrapped their hooves with burlap and eventually an iron horseshoes, made camel shaped, came along but the cloven hoof was a problem.

And prospectors’ burros and mules — and even Army mules — were afraid of the odd-looking creatures and would sometimes panic at their sight.

Still, in 1858, then-Secretary of War John Floyd told Congress, “The entire adaptation of camels to military operations on the Plains may now be taken as demonstrated.”

He urged Congress to authorize the purchase of 1,000 more camels.

Congress didn’t act, however, as it was preoccupied with trouble brewing between the North and South. The government ended the experiement and Hi Jolly was grieved but stayed in America and lived until 1902. His burial place is beneath a pyramid shaped marker…with a camel on top.

In the meantime these camels were also being used privately on ranches. It was while moving some of these camels that the nation’s first and only “camel cavalry charge” took place. In 1849 they were trying to cross the Colorado River into California with camels when a large war party of Mojaves showed up and looked ready to attack. The civilian laborers mounted the camels and charged, routing the Mojaves.

In 1860, experiments were made with racing camels. It was hoped the camels could be used to carry “camel express” mail. The racing experiments proved unsuccessful. Camels excelled at heavy loads carried slowly.

After 1860, Siberian camels were imported to San Franscisco, and ended up in Canadian mining operations. Eventually these were turned loose and became wild herds.

The camel corp was abandoned and the camels either sold or, if they didn’t sell, set free in the desert. Generations of them survived. In the mid-1870s one wandered into Fort Selden, New Mexico Territory. The young son of the post commander saw it and ran, terrified, to hide behind his mother. The post commandant was COL Arthur MacArthur. The terrified child grew up to be General of the Army Douglas MacArthur.

The last camel sighting was in 1941.

This look at American Military History is brought to you in honor of Veteran’s Day. Go hug a vet. If you don’t know him, thought, make sure he’s not armed first. And by the way, that goes for hugging ANY stranger.

Mary Connealy

Thank you, Mary, and the P&P team, for having me here today. It surely is my pleasure. 

If I could travel back in time, would I?

You bet! I’d make a terrible pioneer, I know, since my idea of roughing it is to play all day at the lake, then head to the Holiday Inn for the night. I barely cook with the convenience of a microwave. I know buffalo chips and an open flame would be a disaster.

And yet, part of me longs to travel back in time to get a feel for what pioneers felt, see what they saw, wear the clothes of the time and really immerse myself in the time period, so I can accurately portray those times in my novels. All while being back at the Holiday Inn by supper time, of course!

Since I can’t go back in time for real, I do the next best thing. Museums!

In September, I began the research for a new historical series set at a US Cavalry Fort. I had the germ of an idea, loved the setting, and was eager to see what I could find by way of information.

Over a two week span while on family vacation, we visited the following forts:

Ft. Riley, Kansas (home of the US Cavalry Museum.) A house once thought to be General Custer’s has been preserved and is open for viewing, though they’ve later discovered that he actually lived up the street a bit on Officer’s Row.

Fort Harker in Kanopolis, Kansas. Only a few buildings survive, but the tour guide made our stop worth while. I love the copper-colored sandstone buildings and the amazing green lichen that grows on it.

Fort Larned, near Larned, Kansas. Oh, my, what a treat. The picture above is of two of the barracks at Ft. Larned, which is a National Historic Site and beautifully preserved and run. The buildings are in excellent shape, and the Santa Fe Trail runs only about thirty yards behind the commissary building. Also, as a bonus, just up the road from the Fort is the Santa Fe Trail Museum and Library where we also stopped. I got to go inside a real soddy. Ugh. I am so not pioneer material.

Fort Hays, Kansas. Not many of the buildings survive, but the blockhouse is unusual, and the place has a lively history.

Fort Laramie, Wyoming. A terrific tour with enthusiastic tour-guides. One of the great frontier forts with a rich history and interesting inhabitants.

My second favorite way of researching is reading books. While on this “Fort Loop” vacation, (No, not fruit loop!) I bought lots of books about the US Cavalry and each fort’s history. By the time I got home, I had twenty-one different books about forts and fort life in my possession. Of course, one of the books I was looking for eluded me on the trip, so I had to go on eBay when I got home and bid on a copy. J

 As you can see, I have an amazing and generous husband who pretty much lets me get what I think I need to do research (and a lot of just what I flat out want) and I kept my receipts so I could hand them over to my accountant at the end of the year.

I also got the name and address of the Fort Historian at Fort Laramie, and was encouraged to call any time with questions that cropped up during the writing. Very excited about this prospect. I love talking American West history with someone as passionate about it as I am.

Another way I researched—and  I do realize I should take this one with a big, old bucket of salt—is  I watched John Wayne in his Cavalry pictures, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, Rio Grande, The Horse Soldiers, and Fort Apache. I realize the US Cavalry story is ‘Hollywood-ed Up’ for the big screen, but I love the movies, and they are inspirational. Since my Cavalry novels deal with honor, duty, and sacrifice, (and love J) I thought it fitting to revisit The Duke in all his blue and gold glory.

Of course, US Forts weren’t the only research topic on my agenda. I also visited a Colorado Gold Mine, a Pioneer History Museum, the Wyoming State Historical Society, and 1880’s Town of Murdo, SD. And I bought lots of books from those places, too.

I have found there’s nothing like actually seeing and experiencing the places you want to write about. Especially since the Holiday Inn isn’t too far away. J

Thank you, Mary, for inviting me to visit Petticoats & Pistols.

Erica’s debut novel, The Bartered Bride, is now available. Leave a comment to get your name in the drawing for a free copy.

You can order a copy by clicking HERE. Or by phoning (740) 922-7280.

 Jonathan Kennebrae is furious when his grandfather informs him that his future has been decided. He will marry Melissa Brooke or be disinherited. Jonathan has invested years of his life in Kennabrae Shipping, but heaven help him if Grandfather decides to take it all away for this.

Melissa, too, is devastated when her parents make their announcement. As little more than a bargaining chip in her father’s business maneuvers, she feels her secure world slipping away. Engaged to marry a man she has never met—someone “considerably older” than herself? What have her parents done?

Can Jonathan and Melissa find a way out of this loveless marriage, or must they find a way forward together?

ERICA VETSCH is married to Peter and keeps the company books for the family lumber business. A home-school mom to Heather and James, Erica loves history, romance, and storytelling. Her ideal vacation is taking her family to out-of-the-way history museums and chatting to curators about local history. She has a Bachelor’s degree from Calvary Bible College in Secondary Education: Social Studies. You can find her on the web at www.onthewritepath.blogspot.com  

To the left a picture of officer’s and enlisted barracks at Fort Larned, Kansas.

Massachusetts School for Idiotic and Feeble-Minded Children, South Boston (moved to Waltham in 1887) – Massachusetts State Reform School, Westbrorough (later “Lyman School for Boys”)

Okay, why can’t I quit laughing about this having it’s name changed to School for Boys? It’s my own male bashing reflex no doubt.

When we’re doing research we just stumble on the weirdest things and one of them is the use of language. How it’s changed.

Surely whoever created the Massachusetts School for Idiotic and Feeble-Minded Youth, the first such educational institute in the nation, was absolutely ground breaking. A forward thinker, a mover and shaker, a compassionate advocate for. . .idiotic and feeble-minded youth.

Here’s how they rated their children by IQ:

50-69 = Moron
20-49 = Imbecile
Below 20 = Idiot

There’s some speculation that the majority of those children were just orphans and needed a place to stay. Some say they weren’t treated very nicely. Others say it was a huge improvement in their lives. Probably the truth depended on the place.

Here’s another one that earned a headline. 1836 Three Massachusetts counties establish facilities for “idiots and lunatics furiously mad”

This is in a website I found that boasts: Development of public responsibility for persons with disabilities in Massachusetts

The first sentence sounds awful-furiously mad! The second sounds nice doesn’t it? I suspect it was more nice than awful. It was probably ground breaking to try and care for crazy people. We look at words like idiot and imbecile and think it’s so heartless. But this is in a day when a family might deal with a handicapped child by keeping them hidden away in some attic for their whole lives. Puts me in mind of Jane Eyre, huh? And maybe The Secret Garden?

The State Asylum for the Incurably Insane in Hastings Nebraska (pictured above) had a cemetary with graves bearing a number rather than a name, so deep was the shame of having a mentally ill family member. Years of lawsuits were required to get the identities of those buried there and only last May did the Nebraska Supreme Court finally rule that medical privacy laws didn’t cover death records.

From 1909 to 1959 there were approximately 751 patients buried there. A second listing abstracted from the medical ledger books between 1889 and 1918 for 399 patients was also provided.

Handicapped family member lived and died and were buried there and the families asked for complete confidentiality.

We hear a thing like this and feel distaste for people ashamed of their mentally ill family members. But it was a different time. It was a time that led people to do things like Joseph Kennedy giving his handicapped daughter a lobotomy. Turning a young woman who was fairly functional into a badly disabled woman who lived her life behind closed doors. Her very existence was shrouded in secrecy for most of her life until her sister Eunice Shriver found the courage to admit she had a handicapped sister. It was part of why she founded the Special Olympics.

Were all these places decent to their charges? It all probably came down to who was in charge. Were they kind or cruel?

How about this one? 1846 Two committees, headed by Samuel Gridley Howe, are appointed to investigate the need for facilities for “idiots” and juvenile offenders—

My question? Are those two things the same? Idiots and juvenile offenders? I thought we only invented Teenagers in the 20th Century. . at which time we declared ALL juveniles idiots.

1829 – The New England Asylum for the Blind opens in Massachusetts, becoming the first school in the U.S. for children with visual disabilities.

Asylum? Not what we think when we hear the word asylum, huh? Offensive, like just because you’re blind you’re crazy. But that’s modern thinking. Remember this was first. This was forward thinking, progressive, gentle and kind hearted people trying to do the right thing.

It’s one of those things that jumped out at me when I was doing research and it was a reminder to me.

We do history a disservice when we judge the past through modern eyes without really understanding how things were back then.

We spend too much time disrespecting the past. Instead we should try to understanding it. And maybe, on occasion, laugh at it. 

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Mary Connealy

Hello, friends! It’s good to be back with such a great group who loves western fiction. The second book in my Lonestar series, Lonestar Secrets, is about a young veterinarian who returns to her hometown. Five years earlier she’d been told one of the twins she bore out of wedlock had died, but the day she arrives, she sees another little girl who looks like the daughter holding her hand. Even worse, the child seems to be the daughter of a man who betrayed her.

Don’t you just love high drama? J Lonestar Secrets was a fun story to write because of the great conflicts. But back to western stories. One thing that is common in stories of the west is my favorite thing in the world. It even tops chocolate if you can believe it. Coffee. And my hero Jack loves coffee. That makes him a real man in my estimation! I wasn’t always a coffee drinker. My parents always had a pot of Folger’s brewing when I was growing up so I thought it was for, well, older people. When I started writing, I met a fellow author friend (Kristin Billerbeck) who bought me my first iced mocha. We happened to be in Santa Fe so the western connection was even part of my first coffee experience. One sip and I was in heaven. I’ve been on a quest for the perfect cup of joe ever since.

My favorite coffee is from a coffee brewer in Phoenix called Echo Espresso (http://www.echoespresso.com/) so it’s another reason I believe the west has the best coffee. My favorite is called World Blend. It’s mellow like Kona coffee but still strong enough. I’ve been on a diet so I’ve learned to like it iced with just a tiny touch of sweetener in it, though my favorite way to drink it is lightened with International Flavors hazelnut creamer. How about you? Do you have a favorite coffee? What’s your favorite way to drink it?

Pull up a chair and cozy up to the fireplace while we raise our cups in mutual love of the brew we love! I might even whisper whodunit in my book!

Colleen

www.colleencoble.com

www.GirlsWriteOut.blogspot.com

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“Perhaps more than any other genre, westerns require adherence to some fairly strict guidelines. Writing in this genre requires knowledge of its expectations,” says R. L. Coffield in her article, “Sexuality and Cursing in the Western.”

This applies especially to classic westerns.

          Most classic western fans presume a certain code. No explicit scenes. Swearing minimal or nonexistent. But there can be lots of romance amidst the shootin’ and dyin’. Character development is a must. (Or setting development, such as in a classic Zane Grey.) Good triumphs over evil. That’s why classic westerns attract lots of female readers.

          In my newest western Creede of Old Montana (to be released October 2009), protagonist Avery John Creede rides into Ft. Benton, Montana, looking for old army pals. Instead, he stumbles into a running gun fight with a notorious outlaw and two women determined to distract him, each for their own reasons. Creede seems at first to either be very naïve with the ladies, or one smooth cowboy. Whichever, the results prove to be the same.

There’s lots of the usual head banging in the book, and it’s not all done by the males.

“With the quickness and velocity of a mother killing a snake with a hoe, Sunny slammed the barrel of the revolver into the back of the outlaw’s head. He crumpled to the sand.”

In one chapter I put Avery John Creede on the trail with this same Sunny (a.k.a. Mary Jane Cutler), and male/female sparks happen…some humorous, some “Aha!” But I do keep a close eye on them. Trust me.

A note about this scene, that also has to do with genre expectations: On the trail ride, even though Sunny’s a tough gal in lots of ways, she rides sidesaddle. That’s not just because she’s wearing a dress. It was thought to be scandalous beyond civilized reason for females to straddle a horse in the 1800s. And much later into the 1900s. She has no intention of breaking that sanction. And I, as the author, try very hard to stick with historical cultural facts. That’s one reason the movie, Shane, rankles me. In an otherwise excellent western, why in the world did the wardrobe people clothe Jean Arthur in pants? U.S. women, even ranch gals, didn’t start wearing slacks of any sort until WWII with the advent of Rosie the Riveter and the influence of the working gal.

On the trail,

          Steve

           http://www.BlyBooks.com