Cheryl Pierson

THE BALLAD OF THE ALAMO–LEARNING HISTORY THROUGH SONGS–by Cheryl Pierson

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Hi everyone!  I wrote a short series of blog posts called Learning History Through Songs a few years back, but since we are just past the 190th anniversary of the Battle of the Alamo, I thought I would re-run this, the 2nd of the series, in memory of that battle. Can you believe that in just ten years, on March 6, 2036, it will have been 200 years since that fateful day happened?

 

In the first post of this series (The Battle of New Orleans—Learning History Through Songs #1) I mentioned that these ballad-type tunes were popular in the 1950’s and 1960’s, with Marty Robbins and Johnny Horton being two of the best-known singers of this type of songs.

 

The Battle of New Orleans was penned by an Arkansas school principal, Jimmy Driftwood, who wrote it in the hopes of making learning more fun for his students.

 

But what about The Ballad of the Alamo?

 

This theme was written by Ukrainian-born composer Dimitri Zinovievich Tiomkin (May 10, 1894 – November 11, 1979). He was a Hollywood film score composer and conductor. According to “Lyrics”, he is considered “one of the giants of Hollywood movie music.” Though he was musically trained in Russia, he is best known for his westerns, a genre “where his expansive, muscular style had its greatest impact.” Tiomkin received 22 Academy Award nominations and won four Oscars, also according to “Lyrics”.

 

Dimitri Tiomkin

By Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38069784

I can see why! He also wrote The Green Leaves of Summer (also from the John Wayne BATJAC production of THE ALAMO, as well as the theme for the movie Do Not Forsake Me from the movie HIGH NOON, and among other favorites, the theme song for Rawhide!

Tiomkin had a way of putting sweeping musical scores together with some “killer” lyrics—and with Marty Robbins recording The Ballad of the Alamo, it was a sure-fire winner! Though this song has been covered by other artists, and inspired other songs about the Alamo as well, the original Marty Robbins version is incomparable. Recorded in 1960, it became a “crossover” hit, spending 13 weeks on the pop charts and ranked high at #34, at one point.

THE BALLAD OF THE ALAMO–Marty Robbins

Imagine, telling the entire story of the Alamo in one story-song. With its haunting melody combined with unforgettable lyrics, this piece stands tall among these songs that teach history through music.

“In the southern part of Texas/Near the town of San Antone/ There’s a fortress all in ruins that the weeds have overgrown…”

The words go on to describe what’s left of the battle scene briefly and the men who were there, as they “…answer to that roll call in the sky.”

Switching gears to what actually happened, the next verse takes us to the action:  “Back in 1836/Houston said to Travis/Get some volunteers and go/Fortify the Alamo…”

The story is told in full—how Santa Anna called for surrender and Travis “answered with a shell—and a rousin’ Rebel yell.” Santa Anna issues his decree: “ ‘Play Degüello,’ he roared/ I will show them no quarter/Every one will be put to the sword!”

I still get chills at this line: “One hundred and eighty-five/Holdin’ back five thousand…” The days are counted off to mark time quickly, and then the sad fact that the “…troops that were comin’/ Never came, never came, never came…”

FALL OF THE ALAMO by Robert J. Onderdonk

By Robert Jenkins Onderdonk – 1. transferred from en.wikipedia, original is at the Texas State Archives2. A Glimpse of History in Modern San Antonio., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7843901

Of course, we know how the story ends. But Tiomkin brings the lyrics full circle when he starts the final verse with the same lines as the first verse, then diverges and lets us see what the cowboy sees, as if we are there with him.

In the southern part of Texas

Near the town of San Antone

Like a statue on a pinto

Rides a cowboy all alone,

And he sees the cattle grazing where a century before

Santa Anna’s guns were blazin’ and the cannons used to roar

And his eyes turn sorta misty,

And his heart begins to glow,

And he takes his hat off slowly…

 

To the men of Alamo.

To the thirteen days of glory

At the siege of Alamo…

 

Here’s the YOUTUBE link if you would like to hear this wonderful retelling of this battle. I can’t even imagine having to perform this in a concert setting as I’m sure Marty Robbins had to do quite often. It’s very difficult to sing, though the logical progression of events make the words easy to remember.

https://youtu.be/Eyu3OIn5A00?si=KsRJbCSpmmciQxcT

Here’s a favorite memory. When my son was in elementary school in fourth grade, his teacher called me one night to tell me that when they’d started talking about the battle of the Alamo in class in history, Casey seemed to already know all about it. She said, “Well, what do you know about it, Casey?” Having heard this song about a million and one times in the car, he said, “Back in 1836, Houston said to Travis…Get some volunteers and go fortify the Alamo!” After some questioning, she was amazed that he remembered so much, and it sure brought a smile to my face.

Have you ever been to the Alamo? We went one year when our kids were in elementary school and middle school, and it’s one of the most moving places I’ve ever been. You can definitely feel the presence of those men who fought and died there. What’s one place you’ve been that touched you deeply,  just by being there? The Alamo is one place I will never forget.

CHERYL’S WINNERS!

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I’m so glad you all came by to read and participate in my blog post today. That always means a lot to us here at P&P, and we appreciate each and every one of you! You all are the heart of our group.

I picked three winners today! They are….

LAURA MICHELLE DELGADO

CAROL FRITZ

JUDY SEXTON

Congratulations, ladies! If you will email me at fabkat_edit@yahoo.com and be sure to put “WINNER” in your subject line, and also let me know the email address you’d like your digital copy of ONE MAGIC NIGHT sent to, I will get it out to you as soon as possible! 

Thanks again to everyone for stopping by and being part of our group! We love you guys!

REMEMBERING OUR ANCESTORS–AND HOW TO HANDLE WHAT WE KNOW–(AND A GIVEAWAY!) by Cheryl Pierson

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Hi, everyone! Y’all know I’ve blogged several times before about my searches on Ancestry . com and some of the stories I had learned about my ancestors from my mom. But my dad was never one to talk much about his side of the family, I think because there was quite a lot of sadness in his upbringing.

Dad was one of five children, 4 boys and 1 girl. When he was very young, his ‘just older’ brother was killed  in an automobile accident, and my dad was in the car when it happened. Back then, there were deep ruts in the roads and my granddad hit one, overturning the car. Dad’s  brother, Walter, was killed. I learned  from “family talk” in years to come that my grandmother came home and laid on the bed in her blood-stained clothes for days, mourning the loss of her  young son.

Not long after that, Kenneth, their son that was younger than my dad, died of a malady known then as “summer complaint” — he was only 6 months old. There isn’t much more to be discovered on Ancestry about these deaths since they were so long in the past and the children were so young.

But what I DID learn from Ancestry recently was a real shocker–as some things on there are bound to be! Looking through old census records, I came across an unusual entry in the one for my great great grandfather’s family. His name was John Jenkins Moss. He had several children, but there were two sons– one born in 1859 and one in 1860.

He and my gr-gr grandmother, Jaritta Jane, were married in September of 1859 and the son born in 1860 was born in July. But…the one born in 1859? The census shows an “M” by his name–I discovered that stands for “Mulatto” — a reference to a light-skinned, mixed-race child in those days. His name was Ike. It’s a name that has never been talked about in our family.

This haunts me.

Yes, even though he is long dead, I wonder about him and whatever became of him. Why? Because it may mean we have other family members out there that we never were permitted to know or claim, nor they, us.

The thing that stuck with me the most was that on this particular census, both boys were listed as 8 years old, so they couldn’t have been a full year apart. Ike was living with the family at that point, claimed as part of the household, as a son, just as the other boy, William Francis was.

It raised so many questions in my mind. Did my 2 x great grandmother know about Ike when she married her husband? Did she agree to bring him to their home willingly? And when they did, I wonder how things were handled? How did she treat him? How were things between her and her husband? What were the circumstances of Ike coming to live with them? Well, y’all know my writer’s mind just went crazy when I figured all this out!

Something else that’s happened in all of this traipsing around in the past was that I came across some of the things I’d saved from our big attic problem of a couple of years ago (remember when it was buckling and I had to do the massive clean-out?) I had kept a box of letters that were written between my parents when they were engaged. At that time, Dad was in Arizona because his lungs were bad, and Mom was still here in Oklahoma, not having yet joined him.

My mom, Elwanda, and dad, Fred, as newlyweds in 1944

Oh, my goodness. I didn’t know what to do with those letters, as you might imagine. I started reading them, but after the first couple, though they were very sweet and heartfelt, I felt as if I were intruding on some very private moments that were never supposed to be shared. I put them back in the box, but I couldn’t bear to get rid of them. I still have them, but will I ever read them? Maybe when I’m 90, if I live that long.

Do any of you sleuth through your genealogy? I wish so much I’d written down all the stories my mom told me. Too late now. I swore I would write everything down for my kids, no matter how mundane it might seem, and I started that, but I must admit, I have not kept it up like I should have. I don’t make New Years’ resolutions, but if I do have any wish to “keep to” something, I think this would be it.

 I know I have a long way to go with the genealogy research, and it has been so much fun so far–but finding that entry about Ike has really stayed with me, and made me think about someone I never knew existed, and certainly never knew was part of my family. There’s no date of death, not so far, anyhow, but maybe in my progress it will show up and I might be able to at least find where his grave is. 

Here’s kind of a lighter story about my family before I sign off–my dad’s sister, my Aunt JoAnne, told my sister and me this story when we were at her house a few years back drinking our Sonic drinks on the sweltering heat of summer on her front porch. This same gr gr grandfather who had the two boys so close in age that I mentioned earlier was also a cattle drover. But he didn’t want to travel too far from home there in Texas, close to the Indian Territory border. They lived SO close that they were near Apache, Kiowa,  and Comanche territory. As I said, Grandpa John didn’t like to travel a long way on the cattle drives, so he stayed within a 20-30 mile radius of his home, just joining up with certain trail drives and working that area of the drive as the came and went. 

One day, he was bitten by a mule in the back of the leg. It became infected.  Luckily, he was befriended by the Kiowa chief, Lone Wolf. Lone Wolf took him to his village and they cared for him and made him well, and he was able to live a long life because of this. Lone Wolf was a war chief, known for preserving his tribe’s auntonomy and way of life, so in my mind, this was a real show of friendship and trust for him to take a white man to his camp and care for him. Aunt JoAnne told us that they remained friends for the rest of their lives. A town named for the chief was founded in August 1901, on the opening of the Kiowa-Comanche-Apache Reservation to settlement. (Wikipedia) It’s in the southwestern part of Oklahoma. This is picture of Chief Lone Wolf and his wife.

Have any of you ever learned family secrets that you never knew growing up, through working on genealogy or finding a letter or journal, or in some other way?  I would love to know, big or small, what that secret was–(without getting you into trouble!) LOL Do you have any unique family stories that have been passed down?

I’m giving away a digital copy of my novella, ONE MAGIC NIGHT, which is loosely based on another ancestor’s background, and I knew he needed his own story! It’s an oldie but a goodie! Be sure to comment for a chance to win!

Genealogy is so interesting, but you must be prepared for what you learn–and decide if you’ll pursue it, or leave it where it lays–at least, until you’re 90. 

 

 

 

CHERYL’S WINNERS!

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Hi everyone! Thanks so much for stopping in today to talk with me about our favorite westerns from days gone by–I was blogging about my favorite, LANCER, and really enjoyed seeing what everyone else loved to watch!

 

I picked two winners from my drawing for tonight, and they are….

NAOMI SHORES 

JULIE BULLOCK

 

CONGRATULATIONS, LADIES! Please send me an e-mail  at: fabkat_edit@yahoo.com and be sure to put WINNER in the subject line. Let me know your choice of any of my western romances and the email you want it sent to and I’ll get those off to you as soon as possible!  Again, thanks to everyone for participating!

CHERYL’S AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: https://tinyurl.com/yc6t7vj4

LANCER–A WALK DOWN TV MEMORY LANE (And a Giveaway!) by Cheryl Pierson

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I’m waxing nostalgic today, pining for the days of yesteryear when good westerns were on practically every night of the week! Today, I thought I’d remember my favorite of them all, the western television series LANCER. It’s one of those shows that didn’t last long enough, and still has many, many followers in the fan fiction world who continue to write stories using these characters in just about every scenario you can imagine. If you’ve never explored fan fiction, it’s pretty amazing, and there’s a fan fiction group for virtually every movie and TV series that ever came down the pike.

My not-so-secret “secret” is that I was so totally in love with Johnny Lancer when that show was airing that it stayed with me for all these years. So in my mind, there are different attributes of his that just about every one of  my heroes in my books have “inherited”–and that’s a good thing, except for the fact that most of them are as reckless as he was and that can cause a good deal of anxiety for me! They say that writing is throwing rocks at a man to make him climb a tree and then he has to figure out how to get down unscathed. With those “Johnny Lancer” qualities in my heroes, that makes it doubly hard, but also, soooo well worth it! 

Johnny was raised very “rough and tumble” but he survived, and he learned how to read people very well. He’s brash, and he takes chances, but he calculates the risk and he has plenty of confidence–after all, he’s made it this far, growing up with not much supervision in the harsh border towns. Of course, this is what gives his entire character its intriguing quality–his will to take chances, defy the odds, and come out on top. But what if he doesn’t? As a writer, that’s what makes him so interesting!

 

Lancer Family

Here’s a bit about Lancer, which was then, and still is, my favorite TV western ever—and that’s saying a lot, since I was a die-hard western fan from a very early age.

But what can be more exciting to a pre-teen girl than an action–packed TV western with two handsome hunky guys and a ton of family angst? The answer is…not one thing. I was glued to the tv screen every week when Lancer took off, and it was a very, very sad day when they cancelled it.

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about it, in a nutshell, just so you can get the gist of the series:

Lancer is an American Western series that aired on CBS from September 1968, to May 1970. The series stars Andrew Duggan, James Stacy, and Wayne Maunder as a father with two half-brother sons, an arrangement similar to the more successful Bonanza on NBC.

Duggan stars as the less than admirable Murdoch Lancer, the patriarch of the Lancer family. Stacy appears as half-Mexican gunslinger Johnny Madrid Lancer. Wayne Maunder was cast as Scott Lancer, the educated older son (though he is younger than Stacy) and a veteran of the Union Army, in contrast to Stacy’s role of former gunslinger. Paul Brinegar also appeared as Jelly Hoskins, a series regular from season two after making a one off guest appearance during the first season. Elizabeth Baur (who later replaced Barbara Anderson in ‘Ironside’ from season five to eight) also was a series regular cast member as Murdoch Lancer’s ward Teresa O’Brien.

Guest stars included Joe Don Baker, Scott Brady, Ellen Corby, Jack Elam, Sam Elliott, Bruce Dern, Kevin Hagen, Ron Howard, Cloris Leachman, George Macready, Warren Oates, Agnes Moorehead and Stefanie Powers.

Lancer lasted for fifty-one hour-long episodes shot in color. The program was rerun on CBS during the summer of 1971.

The episode entitled “Zee” with Stefanie Powers earned scriptwriter Andy Lewis the Western Writers of America “Spur Award“, the first ever designated for a television script.

Pretty impressive! With the regular cast and the very solid and vivid portrayals each of them gave of their characters, and the stellar roster of guest stars, what’s not to love? I was eleven when LANCER made its appearance, and I thought I had never seen anyone as “cute” as half-brothers Johnny and Scott Lancer. But “cuteness” was not the only thing that held my interest.

lancercast

As the storyline went, Scott’s wealthy mother took him back to Boston, and he was raised as a moneyed gentleman. He served in the Civil War. Johnny’s story was different. His mother took him south of the border, to the territory she was most familiar with, and he was raised in border towns. Life was tough for him, being half white, and as we say here, “the boy run into some trouble.” So much trouble, in fact, that the Pinkerton man Murdoch Lancer sent to find him barely got there in the nick of time, as Johnny was facing a firing squad.

Murdoch offered his sons “listening money”—to come meet him, hear what he had to offer them, and then stay, or walk away. Of course, both Johnny and Scott decide to stay after this stormy encounter.

The mix of the characters, with Johnny having fended for himself most of his life, earning his living as a fast gun, and Scott being raised with everything money could buy, added to every plot and their general interaction. Scott had known hard times too, during the War, and he had to remind his younger brother of that from time to time. But their growing relationship as brothers, and the respect that they had for one another – and in time, for their father, was what made the show special. Growth of the characters and the way that growth was portrayed kept me glued to the screen week after week—though I couldn’t have told you that’s what it was at that age.

The show is not in syndication here in the States, at last check, but don’t despair! Here’s a link where you can catch season one, at least!

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLB278C1B669BEA738

Johnny Lancer has been a “main character” in my imagination from the time I first saw the show. He’d lived a hard life, done some bad things, but was trying to make amends and have the life with a true family that he’d always wanted…and a place to belong. He was the youngest in his family, and so was I. His character portrayal resonated with audiences everywhere, so it was quite a surprise to learn that the show was being canceled. Yet, today, there are still people who love the show and get together online to chat about it and the characters, and write more stories about them—many of which would make fantastic Lancer episodes if the show was still being written.

Lancer Johnny & dog

 

Do you have a memory of Lancer? Please share if you do! And if you don’t—don’t hesitate to click that link above and see what you missed!

What was YOUR favorite TV western from days gone by?

I’m offering a giveaway today of a digital copy of one of my books, reader’s choice, (USA ONLY) to one lucky commenter! 

 

 

CHERYL’S AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: https://tinyurl.com/yc6t7vj4

 

CHERYL’S WINNERS!

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We had so much fun talking about Christmas songs today, I knew I couldn’t just give ONE prize away, so I’m giving three! A big thank you to everyone who stopped by to gab about Christmas songs today with me, and I want to wish each and every one of you all a very MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A JOYOUS NEW YEAR!

Winners are listed below, and may choose between digital copies of NOELLE’S CHRISTMAS WISH or THE DEVIL AND MISS JULIA JACKSON. Please e-mail me at fabkat_edit@yahoo.com and be sure to put WINNER in your subject line! (I get a LOT of emails, y’all!)

AND THE WINNERS ARE…

KARIN

DANIELLE B.

PATTI WHITAKER

Congratulations!  Again, thanks to all for participating, and a very MERRY CHRISTMAS to everyone!

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS SONGS–WHAT’S YOURS? (AND A GIVEAWAY) by Cheryl Pierson

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I love the music of Christmas. I could play it all year long if I weren’t married to someone who isn’t as crazy about it as I am. Those songs are so uplifting and beautiful that they make me feel good just to hear them, and you can’t help but sing along with them.

 

My dad always loved Christmas, and was a great practical jokester. He delighted in making phone calls to his grandchildren, pretending to be Santa. He’d call back later on for a rundown about what happened on our end—the looks, the comments, and the joy of getting a real live phone call from Santa!

 

One of the traditions in our house was the box of chocolate covered cherries that was always under the tree for him from my mom, a reminder of hard Christmases in years past when that might have been the only gift she could afford. Another was that our house was always filled with Christmas music.

I was a classically trained pianist from the time I turned seven years old. My father’s favorite Christmas carol was What Child Is This? Once I mastered it, I delighted in playing it for him because he took such pleasure in it, and since it was also the tune to another song, Greensleeves, I played it all year round for him. My love for playing the piano was one of the reasons I enjoyed writing my story NOELLE’S CHRISTMAS WISH for our Christmas Stocking Sweethearts series so much. Of course, her favorite Christmas song was The First Noel, for obvious reasons.

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE NOELLE’S CHRISTMAS WISH

Click here to view the entire series on Amazon

The tune known as Greensleeves was a British drinking song for many years, a popular folk song that was not religious. In ancient Britain, there have been more than twenty different known lyrics associated with the tune throughout history. It was first published in 1652.

Shakespeare mentions it by name in “The Merry Wives of Windsor” in which it is played while traitors are hanged. It has been attributed to King Henry VIII, and said that he wrote it for Anne Boleyn. How did this song become one of the best-loved Christmas carols of all time?

In 1865, Englishman William Chatterton Dix wrote “The Manger Throne,” three verses of which became “What Child Is This?” During that particular era, Christmas was not as openly celebrated as it is today. Many conservative Puritan churches forbade gift-giving, decorating or even acknowledging the day as a special day for fear that Christmas would become a day of pagan rituals more than a serious time of worship. Although Dix wrote other hymns, in the context of the times, it was unusual for him to write about Christ’s birth, since many hymn writers and religious factions ignored Christmas completely.

 

The words represent a unique view of Christ’s birth. While the baby was the focal point of the song, the point of view of the writer seemed to be that of a confused observer. Dix imagined the visitors to the manger bed wondering about the child who had just been born. In each verse, he described the child’s birth, life, death and resurrection, answering the question with a triumphant declaration of the infant’s divinity.

“The Manger Throne” was published in England just as the U.S. Civil War was ending. The song quickly made its way from Britain to the United States. Dix died in 1898, living long enough to see “The Manger Throne” become the Christmas carol “What Child Is This?”

Credit to Wikipedia Article for much of this information.

And here are THE PETERSENS singing WHAT CHILD IS THIS? (Lovely harmonies!)

 

WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE CHRISTMAS CAROL OR SONG? Mine is SILENT NIGHT, but gosh, to me they are all so beautiful. I can’t think of one I don’t like! Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of your choice of NOELLE’S CHRISTMAS WISH or THE DEVIL AND MISS JULIA JACKSON!

CHERYL’S AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

Welcome Back to Day 3 of Cowboys & Mistletoe (Week 1)

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POST 2 OF 2 FOR WEDNESDAY
CHRISTMAS STOCKING SWEETHEARTS Book 5
Cheryl Pierson’s Noelle’s Christmas Wish

 

 

When her life is turned upside down by her aunt’s death, beautiful Noelle Cutler must leave Texas for Indian Territory, to live in her family-owned cattle ranch dynasty with a relative she barely knows. Noelle’s Christmas wish as she boards the stagecoach is something she’s yearned for the past several years. Now, with an uncertain world unfolding for her, would it be so much to wish for her very own true love this Christmas?

Texas Ranger Kellan Montgomery has a few wishes of his own. Traveling home to Indian Territory, he dreads what awaits him. An unplanned dinner with Noelle the night before they become fellow passengers aboard the northbound train leaves him imagining a different kind of future—one that’s completely opposite from the solitary life of a lawman.

But their newfound romance may come to a deadly end as two ruthless outlaws board the train—men Kellan put in prison. As Kellan and Noelle masquerade as a newlywed couple, their plan goes awry as the train is taken over by a gang of renegades. Danger explodes in a life-or-death situation, and their perilous deception becomes the catalyst for the flames of love to ignite in their desperate bid for survival.

But love is the only thing on Noelle’s Christmas wish list—and she is determined to make this dream come true for the future she envisions. Now that love has finally come, it’s up to her to make her own longing a reality. Can the magic of Christmas bring a miracle to two lonely people in these most unlikely circumstances?

Purchase for 99¢ on AMAZON

 

And here’s your “What’s In Your Christmas Stocking” question for this afternoon.

“You and your cowboy are snowed in at the ranch. You find a stocking stuffer that helps you pass the time.  What is it?”

And don’t forget, in addition to the other prizes we’re offering,
All entries will also be eligible for our oh-so-beautiful Grand Prize – a gorgeous quilt hand made by our very own Jo-Ann Roberts

You could win a $10 Amazon gift card or our Grand Prize quilt!

ALL PRIZE WINNERS WILL BE ANNOUNCED ON SUNDAY, DECEMBER 14th

CHERYL’S WINNERS!

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Hi everyone, and thanks so much for stopping by to read my post today and taking time to comment. I always love to see what answers come in on questions like this because there are always some I had never thought about, and that was the case today, as well! I’ve got two winners today for a digital or print copy of one of my books, your choice. (Digital only copy awarded if you live outside the lower 48 states, please!)

My winners are…

CARRIE MCCAULEY AND JACKIE WISHERD!

Ladies, if you will email me at fabkat_edit@yahoo.com and put WINNER in the subject line that would be much appreciated! 

Thanks again to all for participating!

LOOKING FOR THE GOOD THINGS–AND A GIVEAWAY! by Cheryl Pierson

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When my husband Gary and I were first married, he would laughingly call me “Pollyanna” –the girl who always saw the good in every situation. Through the years, I have to admit there have been times when that quality has failed me, when things were so bad I didn’t know what we were going to do. I know we’ve all had “those” times. But in general, I’m one of those people who does try to see the good in things.

 

I think I “learned” to do that from my mom. I thought a lot about this over the last few weeks—fall makes me remember and miss my parents more than any other time of the year. One night Gary and I were talking about the things our parents had taught us, and I told him one thing my mom taught me was to look on the bright side of things.

 

I imagine she had to do a lot of that, being the oldest of eleven children in the Dustbowl days of Oklahoma—which was also during The Great Depression. Growing up, I remember how she’d comment on things that meant nothing to me…at the time.

 

“Oh, Cheryl, I saw the first robin today! That means spring is on the way,” she’d say, with a smile.

 

And? my young brain would ask. So, spring is on the way.

When spring came along, maybe she’d comment on how green the trees were, or how blue the sky was today—just look at those clouds!

Now that I’m older, I realize why these things were important and such a cause of joy to her.

Growing up dirt poor in a small house that had no insulation and very little heat, I’m sure that seeing the first robin was important because it meant those cold days and nights would soon be at an end and warm weather was soon to blow in.

 

The green of the trees meant there was enough rain to allow things to grow—something I know, as the oldest in such a large family, she was acutely aware of  since my grandfather was a hardscrabble farmer and had so many mouths to feed.

What a relief, especially here in Oklahoma, that there had been plentiful rain and things were growing well!

This was a picture I took of my hibiscus tree the kids gave me for Mother’s Day one year and its beautiful red blooms! I have to bring it in during the winters here in Oklahoma, but I’m thankful I have a place to put it and keep it hale and hearty until we can move it back outside again when spring–and that first robin–come along! The second picture is one of my two furbabies, Max and Sammy, watching a squirrel they’re thinking of chasing as he jumps from the crape myrtle to the fence. So glad to have these boys in my life!

 

The blue of the sky—can you imagine growing up in a time when you could look outside and see billowing gales of dust—and nothing else? Animals had to be put up in the barn, families had to be inside, and still, the houses were so poorly constructed there would be layers of dust on the windowsills once the dust storm had passed. So a blue sky was important—no dust, and those beautiful white clouds must have looked heavenly in her eyes.

 

Mama always found happiness in the small things—small in MY eyes.  A good meal she’d cooked for her family, getting the laundry done and put away for the week, finding a good sale on orange juice—yes, those were the days when people would look through the Sunday or Wednesday paper at the grocery store ads, make several stops to find the things at each store that were on sale, and several trips home to put the perishables away—a very different time.

It was not just the fact of the accomplishment itself, but what it meant to her from the things that had happened in her past. A good meal meant there was enough food to go around for everyone, served on a matching set of dishes. No one went to bed hungry. Laundry being done meant that everyone had clothes for a solid week—not one or two good dresses that had to be laundered over and over. Making the rounds of the different grocery stores and finding good “deals” meant she was able to provide some extras with what Dad made in the oilfield. She knew how hard he worked. She never took anything for granted.

So though I didn’t have the past that Mama had—mine was much easier in comparison—I think I learned that attitude through watching her. I’m sure there were times she wanted to just go into the bathroom and have a good cry, but instead, she looked for the good, and found it.

This is a picture I took of a gorgeous Oklahoma sunset a couple of years ago. I just loved the beautiful sky, and the way the light hits the water of the pool.

 

I think of Mama every time I see that first robin. What a gift that has been to me, in so many ways, including my writing. Part of writing a good story is thinking about our characters and WHY they act, and react, like they do. This realization about seeing the good in things has been a whole new area of enlightenment for me. I understand so many of my characters even more than I did when I wrote them—their reasoning, and their motivations.

 

Do you have an aspect to your personality that you inherited or learned from one of your parents or another family member? What is it? Do you think that these behavior patterns can be multi-generational? My mind is whirling! What do you think? Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of one of my books–your choice! 

One of my fave pics of Mama and Daddy–taken April 9, 1991 on their 47th wedding anniversary.

 

LANDON–GUN FOR HIRE (#9) by Cheryl Pierson

Here’s one of my favorite examples of how finding the good in a terrible situation, for both Land and Lissie, came to a wonderful decision for them. This is from my book, LANDON, from the GUN FOR HIRE series. Land has fallen in love with Lissie, and she with him, though they have yet to admit it to one another. Things seem impossible from his point of view since the relationship between Lissie’s father’s late wife, Little Dove, is so entangled in a way Land doesn’t believe Lissie knows about. He must take a chance on ruining their budding relationship by telling her a huge part of his reasoning for being on this wagon train was because he had come to avenge his sister–Little Dove–by killing Lissie’s father. 

Take a look:

 

He gave her a piercing look, then led her to a large boulder where she sat down. She watched him with worry in her expression. There was really no way he could say what had to be said but to blurt out the blunt truth. He took Lissie’s hand again, then released it, half-turning away from her.

“Little Dove was my sister. Zach is my nephew.”

Silence washed over them. A soft spring breeze rustled the treetops. From far away, a coyote yipped, and another one answered.

“I know.”

****

Land turned quickly to face her, surprise in his handsome features for a moment before he veiled his expression.

“You kn—how?”

“Just from what Zach has told me. And—from your reaction when we talked about how she came to be married to my father.”

Land shook his head and gave a short laugh. “I guess I made no secret of my opinions that day.”

Lissie stood, looping an arm around his waist. “Zach—told me about your ‘friend’ who died having her baby.”

Land shook his head but remained silent.

“I wanted you to know…Little Dove and I were close. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

“She wasn’t much older than you,” he muttered, looking out into the night woods.

“She was very dear to me.” Tears welled up in Lissie’s eyes as the memories flooded over her. “When she told me she was going to have a baby, we began to plan all sorts of grand things for him—or her.” She smiled. “We both hoped for a boy, but my father seemed to have no interest. So I became her confidant. We were more like sisters. But…I loved her so much.”

Land pulled Lissie close to him, the warmth of his body flooding through her, the support of his arms filling her with strength, as well.

“I loved her, too,” he muttered roughly. “I’m glad you had each other. When I learned what my father had done—I was sick with anger. I’d been gone—a long time. When I came home, my father…well, it took his life, in the end. The truth of what he’d done hit him in the face once he’d sobered up. But by then, it was too late. Little Dove had been lost. And it had been three years. The alcohol had numbed his brain for so long…”

His voice trailed away, and Lissie looked up into his face. She took his hand, careful of the bruised and battered knuckles.

“What happened to him, Land?” She carefully examined his torn flesh. He glanced at her, just as she brought his knuckles to her lips and kissed them.

“He died. Sank into the bottle and never came out.” He turned toward her. “Little Dove was always his favorite,” he said with a faint smile. “She was so full of life and the love of adventure—and he had a real soft spot for her. When he realized she was gone forever, he gave up.

“I told him I was going after her. I would find her—but she’d been gone so long by the then that he didn’t have faith I could find her and bring her home.”

“What about your mother?”

“My mother…she was stronger than he was. She had the others—my brothers and other sister—to live for. But losing Little Dove took a hard toll on her, too, along with my father’s love for drink—and then, his death.”

They were silent a moment, then Land said, “I want to do this right between us, Alissa.”

Her heart jumped at his use of her proper name, the formal seriousness of his tone. She nodded, not looking at him. Sometimes, the hardest things were easier to say in the darkness, without looking—

It was the way her mother had spoken to Lissie of her own impending death…the only way Lissie—or her genteel mother, she suspected—could have borne to have that conversation at all.

But sometimes, speaking of the good things that were dear to a person’s heart were best spoken of like this, as well.

“We will do it right, Land,” she promised him. And, before she thought, she raised her eyes to his in the dim, silver-filtered moonlight and the soft, far-away gold cast by the lantern.

It seemed the silver and gold came together around them to enfold them in a magical velvet enclosure of their own, where there was nothing but the two of them—no fears, no worries, and no sorrows.

But Lissie knew it wasn’t truly that way—it was only an illusion. She already understood the trials and hardships they would face—through her father had sloughed off much of what others taunted him with, not only having married a “squaw” but also that she was so much younger.

“It won’t be easy.” Land’s voice was harsh.

“You won’t find a quitter in me.” Lissie raised her chin. “I’ve heard and seen everything, I think. When my father was alive, he thought nothing of parading Little Dove and me through town…letting people believe we were—for sale.” She gave a short laugh.

“I can’t tell you how many times we were ‘saved’ at the last second, complete with witnesses—so that dear Papa could be paid off and not press charges.”

Land swore. “Did he ever let it go…too far?”

Lissie smiled faintly. “No. But Little Dove and I were so scared—”

“He was a monster!” Land turned away from her furiously.

“Yes,” she agreed. “But for now, it’s important that Zach think well of him. As well as possible,” she amended quickly. “He and Papa were never close.”

Land took a deep breath. “For now,” he agreed. “But—what about you and me? Seeing the things you’ve seen, and knowing what you’ll experience—are you certain I’m what you want? That’s only a part of what I was talking about. You could go on alone and get your homestead set up on your claim. There’ll be plenty of men—”

“I only want one man—you.”

He watched her in silence.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” she whispered.

He took a step toward her, pulling her into his arms once more. “I don’t ever want you to regret marrying me.”

Tears blurred her vision, but she smiled as she lifted her head. “I don’t believe you’ve asked me—”

His lips came across hers, hot, demanding, the best proposal she could ever have hoped for.

 

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