Conestoga Time Again
Grandma and Grandpa Go West
Conestoga Time Again. I once visited the place in St. Louis where pioneers began their journey west. An arch and plaque marked the spot, but I barely noticed them. I could not take my eyes off the Conestoga Wagon or keep from envisioning my own version. It was a premonition.
I am Old Enough to Remember the TV Show Called Wagon Train. Ward Bond whipped up a team of six horses and shouted “Yaa Haa!” from the front seat of a long, narrow, rather sleek vehicle, something like the Cadillacs of that bygone television era.
Sleek was Actually not Practical for a Real-Life Pioneer Journey West. The arch was little more than a widish space in the road back then, soon to be narrowed to two tracks, then to nothing at all. A black-and-white-screen Caddy would lurch apart and break in half on that tough trail. The compact dimensions of the authentic Conestoga were a much more common-sense Westward Pioneer Period design.
It Was Not Common Sense I Thought of as I Stared Transfixed at Pioneer Reality. I thought of a family – a couple of grandparents, mom and dad, some kids – packed with their most essential possessions into this small canvas-covered wagon, trundling toward the unknown. Conestoga Time Again.
Contemplate the First Folks that Said “Sounds like a Good Idea” to “Westward Ho.” They truly did have the unknown ahead of them. They must have been Horace Greeley‘s intended audience - adventurous or desperate or both to the extreme. But - the folks who followed that first wave - contemplate what they contemplated.
Tales had Drifted Back by Then. Unending plains, wild rivers, parched deserts, daunting mountains. Cholera and understandably hostile natives. Sun-bleached livestock bones and rough-hewn crosses marked the trail westward. They went anyway. Adventurous or desperate as those before them, maybe a bit insane. Mostly, they were luminously brave.
I am Enthralled by that Luminous Image – Especially of the Women. I collect their journals and diaries. They tell of pregnant bellies shawled and blanketed against the jolts of a hard trail. Teacups swaddled in handmade quilts they call counterpanes. Remnants of a civilization left, often reluctantly, behind. Clinging to hope. Praying. Enduring.
Years Ago – We Enacted Our Own “Westward Ho.” Professional moving van. Car carrier. Penske truck with husband Jonathan at the wheel. South from NYC through ice storms. West to California and the Santa Anna Winds head-on. Hung a right at LA. North to Puget Sound. Hoping. Praying. Enduring. Every minute. Every mile. Conestoga Time Again.
Lesson Learned. You Can Do It - if you try. Tell Your Own Stories – if only to yourself.
A Moment of “Westward Ho.” Was there a time in your life when you heard a call to venture forward to another, maybe very different place? At what point in your life did this occur? Where was that beckoning place? Why were you tempted to go there in particular?
Choice amidst Possible Resistance. How would your family and friends have reacted to your temptation to take off into the unknown? If there had been resistance or disapproval, how would you have responded then? How would you respond now?
Doing It Anyway. Was there ever a time when you threw caution to the winds and leapt into the unknown? What did you do? Why did you do it? If you have never done such a thing, imagine yourself doing so. What happens and how do you feel?
Years Later – Déjà Vu All Over Again. In NYC once more a wagon train forms. I wrap teacups with tissue paper in lieu of a counterpane. Cardboard boxes pile high as we get ready for another trek west. Older folks in search of a new life. Conestoga Time Again.
You possess storytelling magic. Keep on writing whatever may occur. AliceOrr
http://www.aliceorrbooks.com
Alice Orr. Teacher. Storyteller. Former Editor and Literary Agent. Author of 15 novels, 2 novellas, a memoir, and No More Rejections: 50 Secrets to Writing a Manuscript that Sells.
Read Alice’s Memoir. Lifted to the Light: A Story of Struggle and Kindness. At the beating heart of this moving story a woman fights to survive. All her life she has taken care of herself. Now she faces an adversary too formidable to battle alone. Available HERE.
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I saw the title and at first thought it meant you were having to move again. Whew! I remember Wagon Train, Cheyenne, Sugarfoot, Maverick, Bonanza… My family moved constantly when I was a kid. My dad was an itinerant worker. One year, I attended 5 different schools. And it wasn’t moving in a cozy van - it was a loaded up car towing a trailer, which varied in size depending upon not what we needed, but what we had to leave behind. Happy to be in a stable location now and planning to stay here as long as I can.