Shortly after Ezra Meeker wrapped up his second recrossing of the Oregon Trail in Puyallup, Washington, on August 26, 1912, another covered wagon train prepared to embark on the leaf-strewn streets of a little prairie town named Blue Rapids, Kansas. There was none of the fanfare elicited during Meeker’s … More II: Prairieland departures
So from the start: Genesee Street by the levee, early morning sun breaking through roiling clouds, a slash of sunlight gilding the concrete signpost. Lori places a fresh-cut iris at the sign’s base and we’re off, heading south to follow Sadie Vail on her grand adventure. The only thing missing is almost everything: … More III: An uncertain and irregular trail
I was trying to see the road as Sadie would have seen it from the seat of a covered wagon, or even afoot as she occasionally mentioned, imagining the snail-like pace, the methodical plodding of the horses and mules, the intimacy of the land unveiling itself at each turn. Time a slow, … More IV: First lesson: Make no assumptions
“After a fine nights sleep in our wagons we feel fine and are now ready to travel at sun up,” Sadie wrote on the morning of Oct. 4, 1912. “We breakfasted on flapjacks and coffee. Tasted good. Nothing disturbed us but a dog fight between our dog and Chambers dog. … More V. The Lazarus mule
The Louisville school, now closed. A final flower for Sadie. With it is an antique washboard we brought to represent a few of the things they took on their wagon train. Some substitutions were necessary. Instead of bags of flour, for instance, we took Oreo cookies. It was a splendid compromise. The IOOF lodge in … More Louisville, Kansas
Anyone who has ever kept or attempted to keep a diary knows the utter hopelessness of recording a life fully. Whether consciously or unconsciously details are left out, incidents overlooked, emotions ruled unfit for disclosure or posterity, and every word, every sentence, weighed, judged and critiqued by the most damning of judges—our … More VI. The unwritten
By Lori Parker I love old photographs. To me they bring back memories of people and places of times past. Some have more meaning than others as I am sure it is for all people. Over the years, friends and relatives have given me many photographs of my mother, Catherine … More A bridge between the past and present
“Today is Sunday,” Sadie wrote on the morning of Oct. 6, 1912. “I feel better now.” She had a free moment while waiting for the men to return from buying hay in Wamego, and as she sat there she thought of the road behind and the road ahead and judged the terrain against … More VII: A land so fair
On the fifth morning out Sadie Vail and the others rose early in hopes of beating the rain. “I did not get to write this morning as we started too soon,” she wrote, proving what I’d suspected that she penned her thoughts at all hours of the day whenever she found … More VIII: An unaccounted presence
Sometime after making camp on the night of October 7 a ghastly shriek erupted from the timber surrounding their wagons. The noise stopped them in their tracks as if time itself had ceased, each in his or her own singular chore, Sadie cooking supper, Lucile playing with a doll, the others cooking … More IX: Night noises and the road south
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