I ran across this wonderful YouTube video about life as a pioneer,(it’s posted at the bottom) and it added further to the respect I have for the courage of my forefathers in settling this land.
In the book I’m writing, ”The Dobyns Chronicles,” I follow one branch of my family starting in Virginia. They migrate from Virginia in the 1700′s settling in Ohio and Indiana. My Great-Great Grandfather then migrated with his family to Texas, living in the Sherman/Denison area, on the Red River. (The cover picture is of my great grandfather and his family. The little girl is my grandmother).
Everyone has stories of their family. Have you ever stopped and thought about how they managed to accomplish what they did. It is mind-boggling when you consider the obstacles they had to overcome in order to settle a new land. The hardships they must have endured day after day. The things we take for
I was very fortunate having a mother who loved family history, and wanted to talk about it. I grew up listening to the stories about how life was lived when her Grandfather was a boy, and living through the depression. She taught my sister and I how to survive. I have her Grandmother’s lye soap recipe. I truly hope it never gets to a point I have to make my own soap, but I know how, if I need it. I can live without electricity and running water if I have to. I know how to plant a garden and preserve food. This is where I am very grateful for the life I have today. I don’t have to do what was common place to the pioneering families of yesteryear.
How many people today could make it across the miles and miles of plains, not seeing a soul, or cross a mountain range? I know I couldn’t do it. I use to live in Wyoming many years ago, and looked at the wagon ruts cutting across the country. The canyons, wagons would have to be lowered into with ropes and then lifted up the other side. The small cemeteries, containing loved one’s that could go no further. Between Rawlins and Casper, Wyoming there is a large granite rock. The pioneers who traveled by this rock on the way to California and Oregon would chisel their name and the year into the rock. They wanted it known, they were there. They wanted to be remembered.