Allison Kohn's Blog
July 31, 2014
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5.0 out of 5 stars Great story, March 12, 2014
By Darrell Case - See all my reviews
Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Evelyn's Anxious Bench (Baker Family saga Book 1) (Kindle Edition)
Allison really is a fantastic story teller. Her depiction of life on the trail of the pioneers in covered wagons is very descriptive. You can feel the frustration and the pain, the triumph of those traveling into new areas. Also her insight into the Christian life is true to life, If you are looking for a good book to read I would recommend this one.
http://www.amazon.com/Road-West-begin...
5.0 out of 5 stars Great story, March 12, 2014
By Darrell Case - See all my reviews
Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Evelyn's Anxious Bench (Baker Family saga Book 1) (Kindle Edition)
Allison really is a fantastic story teller. Her depiction of life on the trail of the pioneers in covered wagons is very descriptive. You can feel the frustration and the pain, the triumph of those traveling into new areas. Also her insight into the Christian life is true to life, If you are looking for a good book to read I would recommend this one.
http://www.amazon.com/Road-West-begin...
February 5, 2014
A chapter from Banner of Love, coming soon
Chapter XX
A letter from Wayne, that would have surprised both Linda and Alice, was on its way to Ferndale. A letter to Linda from Ray and Alice was on its way to the Jensen’s mailbox that would not reach Linda in time. Linda was unaware that Ray and Alice were on their way to pick her up, so she left for Phillip’s camp with the Jensens.
The letter from Wayne read:
Dear loved ones at home,
I am no longer a part of the confederate army. I was taken prisoner by the Federals but when the Confederates got reinforcements, the Federals ran and left their prisoners behind. It was like a bunch of wild animals stampeding and I guess I got trampled. When I woke up I was alone, in the woods, and neither army was anywhere in hearing distance. My wounds hadn’t quite healed from when Robert saved my life by giving his. Ray said I should go home. My six months enlistment was up long since and I could have honorably, but I was pressed into the battle by my need to do what I thought Robert would have wanted. You see, Robert and I hadn’t been seeing eye to eye about things since Lee invaded the North. I said the South was no longer defending their sacred soil and that made the contention that the North was the aggressor and the South innocent of any wrongdoing bogus; Robert said the Confederate army needed to invade the North so the Federals would realize they needed to stay out of the South. I don’t know who was right; maybe both of us were wrong. Anyway Robert is with our Lord and I’m through with this war.
There the letter, written on a dirty piece of paper torn from a newspaper - badly wrinkled and torn, ended. The family in Ferndale didn’t receive it until the spring of 1864. It came enveloped as a communication from the Army of the Cumberland.
On the other hand, Linda wasn’t at the farm in Virginia when the letter, telling her Ray and Alice would be there shortly after the letter arrived and she should be ready to go home with them.
Linda, with Will and Mrs. Jensen, were on their way to deliver Phillip’s new uniform to him.
But their trip was in vain. Back in June events unfolded to make it impossible. The invasion of the North that had upset Wayne was in progress. Stuart left part of his cavalry to guard the Blue Ridge passes and led the rest of it across the river to feel the right of Ewell’s troops, where Lee had sent him to advance along a broad front and capture Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
Early was on his way to Wrightsville on the Susquehanna River and late in the afternoon of the 26th they approached a prosperous farming center on their rout called Gettysburg.
The town was defended by a raw regiment of militiamen mustered in four days earlier and arrived in town only the night before.
Early’s well-armed and perfectly disciplined regiment moved into town like an enormous well-oiled machine and the militiamen moved out. Noting the shoe factory, he sent word back suggesting they restock the much needed item.
One of his men, General Gordon, re-assured the women of the town that all their men were gentlemen and no harm would come to any of the fairer sex. A young girl ran up to him and handed him a bunch of flowers with a note tucked inside from one of the women. He quickly read the intelligences about the whereabouts of 1,400 Union militia defending Wrightsville.
Stuart’s three brigades were in the process of riding completely around the Union army causing whatever trouble they could, not heading his orders to move on and feel the right of Ewell’s troops.
Upon learning the Army of the Potomac was heading west, Lee ordered his army to concentrate and prevent the Federals from further advancement and interception of confederate communications with Virginia. Because he had no contact with Stuart, who was supposed to be his eyes and ears, he ordered the concentration in the area of Cashton and Gettysburg.
On the 30th General Pettigrew, ordered to seize a large supply of those Union shoes spotted Buford’s Union cavalry screening the northwest. It was decided that Heath would go in the following day and flush them out. Hill and Ewell were ordered to Gettysburg to support him.
Major Thomas watched the Confederate forces appear as grisly specters on the drizzly dawn of July 1st. Lieutenant Marcullas Jones saw them too, marching in an eerie procession down the Chambersburg Pike. A Confederate officer pulled off to one side for the infantrymen to pass and the Lieutenant borrowed a carbine and fired at the officer. That hasty and reckless shot started a violent battle. Bullets hummed, hissed, and whistled ubiquitously; Cannon roared, crashing and pealing. The air was filled with smoke, dust, splinters, and blood.
Eli Thomas’ stomach turned and he lost all thought of anything but the struggle on the west ridge of Gettysburg as the Federals dedicated themselves to the fight.
Reynolds arrived just in time to keep the Confederates from forcing Buford off Seminary Ridge, but soon took a mine ball behind his ear and dropped from his horse dead.
The enemy came yelling like demons into the fight and the two sides poured volleys into each other with fourteen North Carolina color bearers falling before the federals.
They drew back to Seminary ridge over the bodies of the blue and gray laying intermingled – some screaming horrifically and frothing at the mouth. Before they could catch their breath, the Confederates were on them again. There seemed to be no end to the fiends. Battery B managed to check the assault for a few minutes with double charges of canister, but the Confederates came on again and again, charging over the bleeding bodies of their own men while up and down the line men reeled and fell. Splinters flew from wheels and axels where bullets bit. The shell burst and shot screamed overhead while drivers yelled at terrorized and wounded horses lunging to free themselves.
I corps fled seminary ridge and headed for Cemetery Hill to wait for reinforcements to take position on Cemetery ridge, little Round Top, and big Round Top. I corps had lost 7,500 men, the Xi Corps suffered a loss of 4,000 as prisoners alone and the Iron brigade was no longer effective. By the time they managed to pull their shattered forces together, there were only 5,000 left, which made them look like target practice bottles waiting to be shattered. The commander of the army of the Potomac informed them he had ordered other corps to concentrate of the hill where the decisive battle would be fought.
Nat lay down for a short nap before the fighting resumed. As he drifted off to sleep, he prayed Mary would still like him when the war was over. He was determined to find out when this war ended.
Wayne wondered how the south could be invading the North when all they wanted was to be left alone. How was a man from Oregon involved in the Confederate’s fight for States Rights – and was that elusive phrase only a ruse to get control of the northern state’s right to decide for themselves about slavery? Was he involved in the wrong fight? Was this a desperate attempt, on the part of a feudal society to hold on to and perpetuate a way of life that civilization had moved beyond?
Linda lay in her bed in Charlottesville and dreamt of her family in the Willamette Valley and walking down a dusty path where she lay on her stomach to watch the Willamette roll by. Then she heard someone beside her and she turned to see Phillip’s grinning face and the Willamette turned into the Rappahannock. She sighed contentedly and rolled over.
The Army of Northern Virginia swept across Emmetsburg Road to touch the crest of Cemetery Ridge and wrecked the battle tested III Corps. When a cannon ball took off its commander’s leg the corps broke up and ran back in confusion. The Army of Northern Virginia mangled the V Corps and beat one division of the II Corps. Men fought hand to hand with bayonet and musket butts midst little trees shattered by shell fire in a peach orchard.
In a wheat field grain was trampled down and dead bodies covered the ground where Union and Confederate knelt thirty paces apart and fired with resounding cruelty. A great tangled area of boulders and stunted trees earned the name of Devil’s den that afternoon.
Each attack was a moment or an hour of concentrated violence. The hillside and rocky woods were blinded with a chocking fog of blue powder smoke, pounded with the unceasing and deafening voice of battle and lit with constant spurts of fire. The air was flooded with the screams of wounded horses and the curses and cheers of men.
Through it all, the Federals managed to hold Little Round Top and the second day’s battle came to a close with the only sounds those of constant agony from helpless wounded men and horses covering the hills, rocky knools, and fields.
Two days of immense savagery ended and as daylight entered the third day fighting flared automatically on Culp’s Hill.
By eleven o-clock the Confederates, weaker by 1800 and fought out, suddenly withdrew. The noise of battle died and there was anxious silence while everyone waited. Two guns fired at measured intervals, and then, at one o-clock, the immense rank of 130 or more guns assembles by Lee, almost hub to hub west of Emmetsburg Road, exploded in a deafening attack. They were again enclosed in a world of violence as the explosions continued to deafen and destroy – mixing metal with flesh and blood in a three hour eruption, intense beyond comparison.
A few miles to the east the cavalry fought a frantic mounted battle. Charging lines crashed into each other at full gallop and Phillip fell to the ground. As the Confederates drew off at last with heavy losses, the exhausted Federals drooped in their saddles.
At three o-clock the guns became silent and a line a mile wide from flank to flank of Confederates came out of the woods, halted, perfected their alignment, and began to roll forward.
Up on the ridge Federal gunners waited briefly and then tore fearful gaps in the unprotected mass of Federal infantry. Even so, a few hundred broke through the Federal line to die at canister and musket range.
As Nat rode through the dead and wounded looking for a friend, he ran across the unconscious body of Private Jensen. While he was in the process of picking him up to take him to a better place to heal, he thought, If you live, you better be found as a Federal. He looked around him and saw a dead Union officer about the size of Private Jensen and switched their clothes. Then he leaned the unconscious man against a tree away from the battle and mounted his horse. A buzz, a blast of intense heat and force knocking him off his horse were his last sensations.
A letter from Wayne, that would have surprised both Linda and Alice, was on its way to Ferndale. A letter to Linda from Ray and Alice was on its way to the Jensen’s mailbox that would not reach Linda in time. Linda was unaware that Ray and Alice were on their way to pick her up, so she left for Phillip’s camp with the Jensens.
The letter from Wayne read:
Dear loved ones at home,
I am no longer a part of the confederate army. I was taken prisoner by the Federals but when the Confederates got reinforcements, the Federals ran and left their prisoners behind. It was like a bunch of wild animals stampeding and I guess I got trampled. When I woke up I was alone, in the woods, and neither army was anywhere in hearing distance. My wounds hadn’t quite healed from when Robert saved my life by giving his. Ray said I should go home. My six months enlistment was up long since and I could have honorably, but I was pressed into the battle by my need to do what I thought Robert would have wanted. You see, Robert and I hadn’t been seeing eye to eye about things since Lee invaded the North. I said the South was no longer defending their sacred soil and that made the contention that the North was the aggressor and the South innocent of any wrongdoing bogus; Robert said the Confederate army needed to invade the North so the Federals would realize they needed to stay out of the South. I don’t know who was right; maybe both of us were wrong. Anyway Robert is with our Lord and I’m through with this war.
There the letter, written on a dirty piece of paper torn from a newspaper - badly wrinkled and torn, ended. The family in Ferndale didn’t receive it until the spring of 1864. It came enveloped as a communication from the Army of the Cumberland.
On the other hand, Linda wasn’t at the farm in Virginia when the letter, telling her Ray and Alice would be there shortly after the letter arrived and she should be ready to go home with them.
Linda, with Will and Mrs. Jensen, were on their way to deliver Phillip’s new uniform to him.
But their trip was in vain. Back in June events unfolded to make it impossible. The invasion of the North that had upset Wayne was in progress. Stuart left part of his cavalry to guard the Blue Ridge passes and led the rest of it across the river to feel the right of Ewell’s troops, where Lee had sent him to advance along a broad front and capture Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
Early was on his way to Wrightsville on the Susquehanna River and late in the afternoon of the 26th they approached a prosperous farming center on their rout called Gettysburg.
The town was defended by a raw regiment of militiamen mustered in four days earlier and arrived in town only the night before.
Early’s well-armed and perfectly disciplined regiment moved into town like an enormous well-oiled machine and the militiamen moved out. Noting the shoe factory, he sent word back suggesting they restock the much needed item.
One of his men, General Gordon, re-assured the women of the town that all their men were gentlemen and no harm would come to any of the fairer sex. A young girl ran up to him and handed him a bunch of flowers with a note tucked inside from one of the women. He quickly read the intelligences about the whereabouts of 1,400 Union militia defending Wrightsville.
Stuart’s three brigades were in the process of riding completely around the Union army causing whatever trouble they could, not heading his orders to move on and feel the right of Ewell’s troops.
Upon learning the Army of the Potomac was heading west, Lee ordered his army to concentrate and prevent the Federals from further advancement and interception of confederate communications with Virginia. Because he had no contact with Stuart, who was supposed to be his eyes and ears, he ordered the concentration in the area of Cashton and Gettysburg.
On the 30th General Pettigrew, ordered to seize a large supply of those Union shoes spotted Buford’s Union cavalry screening the northwest. It was decided that Heath would go in the following day and flush them out. Hill and Ewell were ordered to Gettysburg to support him.
Major Thomas watched the Confederate forces appear as grisly specters on the drizzly dawn of July 1st. Lieutenant Marcullas Jones saw them too, marching in an eerie procession down the Chambersburg Pike. A Confederate officer pulled off to one side for the infantrymen to pass and the Lieutenant borrowed a carbine and fired at the officer. That hasty and reckless shot started a violent battle. Bullets hummed, hissed, and whistled ubiquitously; Cannon roared, crashing and pealing. The air was filled with smoke, dust, splinters, and blood.
Eli Thomas’ stomach turned and he lost all thought of anything but the struggle on the west ridge of Gettysburg as the Federals dedicated themselves to the fight.
Reynolds arrived just in time to keep the Confederates from forcing Buford off Seminary Ridge, but soon took a mine ball behind his ear and dropped from his horse dead.
The enemy came yelling like demons into the fight and the two sides poured volleys into each other with fourteen North Carolina color bearers falling before the federals.
They drew back to Seminary ridge over the bodies of the blue and gray laying intermingled – some screaming horrifically and frothing at the mouth. Before they could catch their breath, the Confederates were on them again. There seemed to be no end to the fiends. Battery B managed to check the assault for a few minutes with double charges of canister, but the Confederates came on again and again, charging over the bleeding bodies of their own men while up and down the line men reeled and fell. Splinters flew from wheels and axels where bullets bit. The shell burst and shot screamed overhead while drivers yelled at terrorized and wounded horses lunging to free themselves.
I corps fled seminary ridge and headed for Cemetery Hill to wait for reinforcements to take position on Cemetery ridge, little Round Top, and big Round Top. I corps had lost 7,500 men, the Xi Corps suffered a loss of 4,000 as prisoners alone and the Iron brigade was no longer effective. By the time they managed to pull their shattered forces together, there were only 5,000 left, which made them look like target practice bottles waiting to be shattered. The commander of the army of the Potomac informed them he had ordered other corps to concentrate of the hill where the decisive battle would be fought.
Nat lay down for a short nap before the fighting resumed. As he drifted off to sleep, he prayed Mary would still like him when the war was over. He was determined to find out when this war ended.
Wayne wondered how the south could be invading the North when all they wanted was to be left alone. How was a man from Oregon involved in the Confederate’s fight for States Rights – and was that elusive phrase only a ruse to get control of the northern state’s right to decide for themselves about slavery? Was he involved in the wrong fight? Was this a desperate attempt, on the part of a feudal society to hold on to and perpetuate a way of life that civilization had moved beyond?
Linda lay in her bed in Charlottesville and dreamt of her family in the Willamette Valley and walking down a dusty path where she lay on her stomach to watch the Willamette roll by. Then she heard someone beside her and she turned to see Phillip’s grinning face and the Willamette turned into the Rappahannock. She sighed contentedly and rolled over.
The Army of Northern Virginia swept across Emmetsburg Road to touch the crest of Cemetery Ridge and wrecked the battle tested III Corps. When a cannon ball took off its commander’s leg the corps broke up and ran back in confusion. The Army of Northern Virginia mangled the V Corps and beat one division of the II Corps. Men fought hand to hand with bayonet and musket butts midst little trees shattered by shell fire in a peach orchard.
In a wheat field grain was trampled down and dead bodies covered the ground where Union and Confederate knelt thirty paces apart and fired with resounding cruelty. A great tangled area of boulders and stunted trees earned the name of Devil’s den that afternoon.
Each attack was a moment or an hour of concentrated violence. The hillside and rocky woods were blinded with a chocking fog of blue powder smoke, pounded with the unceasing and deafening voice of battle and lit with constant spurts of fire. The air was flooded with the screams of wounded horses and the curses and cheers of men.
Through it all, the Federals managed to hold Little Round Top and the second day’s battle came to a close with the only sounds those of constant agony from helpless wounded men and horses covering the hills, rocky knools, and fields.
Two days of immense savagery ended and as daylight entered the third day fighting flared automatically on Culp’s Hill.
By eleven o-clock the Confederates, weaker by 1800 and fought out, suddenly withdrew. The noise of battle died and there was anxious silence while everyone waited. Two guns fired at measured intervals, and then, at one o-clock, the immense rank of 130 or more guns assembles by Lee, almost hub to hub west of Emmetsburg Road, exploded in a deafening attack. They were again enclosed in a world of violence as the explosions continued to deafen and destroy – mixing metal with flesh and blood in a three hour eruption, intense beyond comparison.
A few miles to the east the cavalry fought a frantic mounted battle. Charging lines crashed into each other at full gallop and Phillip fell to the ground. As the Confederates drew off at last with heavy losses, the exhausted Federals drooped in their saddles.
At three o-clock the guns became silent and a line a mile wide from flank to flank of Confederates came out of the woods, halted, perfected their alignment, and began to roll forward.
Up on the ridge Federal gunners waited briefly and then tore fearful gaps in the unprotected mass of Federal infantry. Even so, a few hundred broke through the Federal line to die at canister and musket range.
As Nat rode through the dead and wounded looking for a friend, he ran across the unconscious body of Private Jensen. While he was in the process of picking him up to take him to a better place to heal, he thought, If you live, you better be found as a Federal. He looked around him and saw a dead Union officer about the size of Private Jensen and switched their clothes. Then he leaned the unconscious man against a tree away from the battle and mounted his horse. A buzz, a blast of intense heat and force knocking him off his horse were his last sensations.
December 15, 2013
Angles, Eagles, and Fire - a bit of a peak
Young Eli Thomas had always been the black sheep of his family. For one thing he got in the habit of attending church services. He had a tiny memory of someone he loved listening to preaching on the trail when he was just a baby - but at first it was the crowds of happy people and the songs they sang. Then when he sat quietly on the floor in the back of the building and listened to the preacher talk about God, he remembered the mama in the wagon train that liked to listen to talks about God.
The man who said the kind words about God noticed him, but he didn’t push him away. Eli was used to being pushed away, but the man smiled and said, “I am glad you are here.”
These were wonderful words for a boy to hear for the first time he could remember.
The mama from the wagon train was glad to see him and the children he played with liked to have him around, but this was the first time he heard the words.
And then there was the nice lady that turned out to be the wife of the man who talked about God. She asked him – actually asked him - to please come back.
It took time, but little by little they drew him into their hearts and their home. And, very un-obtrusively, they gave him clean and mended clothes to wear and school books he kept in their house when he wasn’t in school with them.
It took very little encouragement to get him to study hard and he did so well the preacher made arrangements for him to study the law with a friend of his in St. Louis, Missouri.
He had a new horse and was on his way east the morning Pearl decided she would have to run away.
The man who was supposed to have escorted him changed his mind and turned back for his home when it started raining so heavily.
Eli made the decision to go on alone rather than turn back himself. He would be alone but he was used to that and he was not going to miss this opportunity. His pastor/friend gave him a good horse and gear including a gun and he worked hard to convince his self he was earning it.
The steady slop, splatter, sloshing of the horse’s hoofs, the rain dripping from his hat and running down his shoulders, and the rainy haze in front of him all increased his resolve to go on as he rode north from Oregon City.
The trees on each side of the road sobbed with rain, the fern and moss drank the water in the wet dirt and continued to grow ever thicker increasing the plush carpet he rode on.
Eli looked at the swollen raging Columbia south of Fort Vancouver and the Cascade range to the east and turned east for the mountains. His horse picked her way carefully over the moss covered rocks and up the slippery incline to the foot of the high country.
The trees were growing thicker and as he rode the wet branches tried to sweep him from his horse’s back.
He saw a little girl riding alone just ahead and he urged his mare forward to see who it was.
Suddenly, what sounded like, a woman’s scream pierced the air and both horses reared and plunged forward, trying to rid themselves of the fear overwhelming them.
The little girl’s mare threw her rider but soon gained another. Its claws ripped at the saddle and its jaws reached for her throat. She fought wildly to free herself. Finally a shot rang out, and the weight dropped from her.
Eli returned the gun to its holster and looked around. The girl’s horse was standing some distance away shacking badly.
The child was nowhere in sight. Every nerve in Eli’s body was jumping but he forced his limbs to obey so he could retrieve the mare.
He retraced the steps of the panicked horse looking for signs of the little girl. When he finally found her, it was because of her groaning. She was arranged in a heap with her leg twisted under her. A curious deer watched for a few moments and then, with a graceful leap, disappeared into the woods. Eli dismounted and knelt by the child. “Hello,” he said gently. “Can you move?”
“Everything but my leg.” She groaned and turned over slightly so Eli could see her bloody leg, then she passed out.
Pearl was delirious most of the time while Eli worked to get the leg in line with the upper half of it and the flesh bound together. He bound two sticks to her leg to hold it together and straight, then he built a little shelter where he could have a fire to keep his precious charge warm.
Eli positioned Pearl as close to the fire as he could without burning her and covered her with as much of his own clothes as he could decently spare.
He sat by her little feet and bowed his head. “Lord, I know you work out everything in our lives so they will complement each other to make the result like a beautiful song for our hearts,” he said, working it out as he talked. “And I know that song is our own re-creation in your image. I also know you can heal this little girl’s leg or not, as you please, according to the wise council of your own will.”
He paused for a moment, then continued in a more positive note. “Well Lord, I don’t see how it would be your will – for your name to be glorified - by this little girl dying out here all alone and far away from her family and friends, so I am just trusting you to heal her. Thank you.”
Eli remembered what Jesus said about his people being able to do even greater wonders than Jesus did himself, while he was here on earth, because the Spirit of God was in each Christian with the power to work miracles.
He laid his hand on her leg and said, “Be healed,” with the determination to be the hands of God which would do everything to cooperate with that healing; all anyone could possibly do.
He stood up and started to gather branches to make a litter to carry his little charge home in.
The following morning Eli started out with Pearl on the litter. When he stopped, he cleaned the mud from his patient’s face and forced some broth between her lips. The mud splashed up all day until it covered her like a shroud. The canopy Eli had made protected her from the rain but nothing could keep the mud off of her – it splashed from the sides of the litter and came up between the weaving on the bottom.
Eli didn’t know the Lord was using this mud to draw out the poison and heal the leg. Late in the afternoon it stopped raining for a while but that evening it started up again in a steady drizzle.
Eli lived with the rain most of his life and slept in it more than once, so he leaned his head against a tree and sat on his saddle to get as much sleep as he could during the hours of darkness.
Early the next morning the rain stopped and the sun dried the mud. Pearl woke up and tried to scrape the dirt of her leg.
Eli’s young heart was warmed at the sight but he noticed the healing power of the mud so he said gently, “Leave it alone. It is drying the nasty stuff coming out of your leg.”
“What nasty stuff? What’s going on? Where am I? I want my Mother.”
The little girl seemed to have turned into an endless supply of questions that didn’t want answered but her lip was trembling and she tried to move and groaned again.
“Lie still please. You were thrown off of your horse and broke your leg. The bone came all of the way through and I am afraid that if you don’t be very still the bone will come back out. So please lie still. My name is Eli and I saw what happened and am trying to get you back to your mother.”
Pearl lay still. “Hello Eli,” she said docilely, “I’m running away.”
When Pearl finished telling him all about why she ran away he said, “It wasn’t a very smart thing to do. If I hadn’t been there when that panther jumped you, you would have made a nice bunch of cat food. My pastor friend says that it is always best to face our problems head on.”
Pearl didn’t argue. She forgot why it seemed so important for her to run away. “How did you get away from the cat?” Pearl asked.
“I shot it.”
“You have a gun?”
“You don’t think I would come all of this way out here without a gun do you? My pastor friend wouldn’t let me,” he said proudly. “What is your name anyway?”
“I’m Pearl Brook O’Riley and I live in Ferndale. Are we almost home?”
“We are almost to Oregon City. Ferndale is a little further on but we will go to the sheriff and see if we can borrow a wagon to get you to Ferndale. Then I have to go. I am going to St. Louis and get an education.”
“Is that where you were going when you shot the cat and saved my life? I shouldn’t think you would want to go all the way by yourself. I know it is a very long way to get an education because my cousin went to school in the east and it’s ever so far away. It will take him months and months to get home now.”
Pearl chattered all the rest of the way to Oregon City.
Eli listened to her and didn’t say much, but he realized she was one of Evelyn Brook’s children and he was enjoying hearing her talk of her family – the family that belonged to the mama from the wagon train. He felt very much like he was seeing why God had allowed this thing to work together in his life and the lives of the family of the mama he had fond dreams about ever since he was a baby.
The man who said the kind words about God noticed him, but he didn’t push him away. Eli was used to being pushed away, but the man smiled and said, “I am glad you are here.”
These were wonderful words for a boy to hear for the first time he could remember.
The mama from the wagon train was glad to see him and the children he played with liked to have him around, but this was the first time he heard the words.
And then there was the nice lady that turned out to be the wife of the man who talked about God. She asked him – actually asked him - to please come back.
It took time, but little by little they drew him into their hearts and their home. And, very un-obtrusively, they gave him clean and mended clothes to wear and school books he kept in their house when he wasn’t in school with them.
It took very little encouragement to get him to study hard and he did so well the preacher made arrangements for him to study the law with a friend of his in St. Louis, Missouri.
He had a new horse and was on his way east the morning Pearl decided she would have to run away.
The man who was supposed to have escorted him changed his mind and turned back for his home when it started raining so heavily.
Eli made the decision to go on alone rather than turn back himself. He would be alone but he was used to that and he was not going to miss this opportunity. His pastor/friend gave him a good horse and gear including a gun and he worked hard to convince his self he was earning it.
The steady slop, splatter, sloshing of the horse’s hoofs, the rain dripping from his hat and running down his shoulders, and the rainy haze in front of him all increased his resolve to go on as he rode north from Oregon City.
The trees on each side of the road sobbed with rain, the fern and moss drank the water in the wet dirt and continued to grow ever thicker increasing the plush carpet he rode on.
Eli looked at the swollen raging Columbia south of Fort Vancouver and the Cascade range to the east and turned east for the mountains. His horse picked her way carefully over the moss covered rocks and up the slippery incline to the foot of the high country.
The trees were growing thicker and as he rode the wet branches tried to sweep him from his horse’s back.
He saw a little girl riding alone just ahead and he urged his mare forward to see who it was.
Suddenly, what sounded like, a woman’s scream pierced the air and both horses reared and plunged forward, trying to rid themselves of the fear overwhelming them.
The little girl’s mare threw her rider but soon gained another. Its claws ripped at the saddle and its jaws reached for her throat. She fought wildly to free herself. Finally a shot rang out, and the weight dropped from her.
Eli returned the gun to its holster and looked around. The girl’s horse was standing some distance away shacking badly.
The child was nowhere in sight. Every nerve in Eli’s body was jumping but he forced his limbs to obey so he could retrieve the mare.
He retraced the steps of the panicked horse looking for signs of the little girl. When he finally found her, it was because of her groaning. She was arranged in a heap with her leg twisted under her. A curious deer watched for a few moments and then, with a graceful leap, disappeared into the woods. Eli dismounted and knelt by the child. “Hello,” he said gently. “Can you move?”
“Everything but my leg.” She groaned and turned over slightly so Eli could see her bloody leg, then she passed out.
Pearl was delirious most of the time while Eli worked to get the leg in line with the upper half of it and the flesh bound together. He bound two sticks to her leg to hold it together and straight, then he built a little shelter where he could have a fire to keep his precious charge warm.
Eli positioned Pearl as close to the fire as he could without burning her and covered her with as much of his own clothes as he could decently spare.
He sat by her little feet and bowed his head. “Lord, I know you work out everything in our lives so they will complement each other to make the result like a beautiful song for our hearts,” he said, working it out as he talked. “And I know that song is our own re-creation in your image. I also know you can heal this little girl’s leg or not, as you please, according to the wise council of your own will.”
He paused for a moment, then continued in a more positive note. “Well Lord, I don’t see how it would be your will – for your name to be glorified - by this little girl dying out here all alone and far away from her family and friends, so I am just trusting you to heal her. Thank you.”
Eli remembered what Jesus said about his people being able to do even greater wonders than Jesus did himself, while he was here on earth, because the Spirit of God was in each Christian with the power to work miracles.
He laid his hand on her leg and said, “Be healed,” with the determination to be the hands of God which would do everything to cooperate with that healing; all anyone could possibly do.
He stood up and started to gather branches to make a litter to carry his little charge home in.
The following morning Eli started out with Pearl on the litter. When he stopped, he cleaned the mud from his patient’s face and forced some broth between her lips. The mud splashed up all day until it covered her like a shroud. The canopy Eli had made protected her from the rain but nothing could keep the mud off of her – it splashed from the sides of the litter and came up between the weaving on the bottom.
Eli didn’t know the Lord was using this mud to draw out the poison and heal the leg. Late in the afternoon it stopped raining for a while but that evening it started up again in a steady drizzle.
Eli lived with the rain most of his life and slept in it more than once, so he leaned his head against a tree and sat on his saddle to get as much sleep as he could during the hours of darkness.
Early the next morning the rain stopped and the sun dried the mud. Pearl woke up and tried to scrape the dirt of her leg.
Eli’s young heart was warmed at the sight but he noticed the healing power of the mud so he said gently, “Leave it alone. It is drying the nasty stuff coming out of your leg.”
“What nasty stuff? What’s going on? Where am I? I want my Mother.”
The little girl seemed to have turned into an endless supply of questions that didn’t want answered but her lip was trembling and she tried to move and groaned again.
“Lie still please. You were thrown off of your horse and broke your leg. The bone came all of the way through and I am afraid that if you don’t be very still the bone will come back out. So please lie still. My name is Eli and I saw what happened and am trying to get you back to your mother.”
Pearl lay still. “Hello Eli,” she said docilely, “I’m running away.”
When Pearl finished telling him all about why she ran away he said, “It wasn’t a very smart thing to do. If I hadn’t been there when that panther jumped you, you would have made a nice bunch of cat food. My pastor friend says that it is always best to face our problems head on.”
Pearl didn’t argue. She forgot why it seemed so important for her to run away. “How did you get away from the cat?” Pearl asked.
“I shot it.”
“You have a gun?”
“You don’t think I would come all of this way out here without a gun do you? My pastor friend wouldn’t let me,” he said proudly. “What is your name anyway?”
“I’m Pearl Brook O’Riley and I live in Ferndale. Are we almost home?”
“We are almost to Oregon City. Ferndale is a little further on but we will go to the sheriff and see if we can borrow a wagon to get you to Ferndale. Then I have to go. I am going to St. Louis and get an education.”
“Is that where you were going when you shot the cat and saved my life? I shouldn’t think you would want to go all the way by yourself. I know it is a very long way to get an education because my cousin went to school in the east and it’s ever so far away. It will take him months and months to get home now.”
Pearl chattered all the rest of the way to Oregon City.
Eli listened to her and didn’t say much, but he realized she was one of Evelyn Brook’s children and he was enjoying hearing her talk of her family – the family that belonged to the mama from the wagon train. He felt very much like he was seeing why God had allowed this thing to work together in his life and the lives of the family of the mama he had fond dreams about ever since he was a baby.
November 19, 2013
Review of Evelyn's anxious Bench
5.0 out of 5 stars Absorbing Read, November 18, 2013
By Talleyrand (Sydney, Australia) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Evelyn's Anxious Bench (The Baker Family Saga) (Kindle Edition)
A fantastic female story of empowerment set during the sojourner days of the early 19th Century in the historic Wilamette Valley, Evelyn's Anxious Bench is an absorbing read from the first page on. I was hooked by author Allison Kohn's expert handling of characterization and fell in love with her protagonist. Kohn knows how to keep the reader glued and does this through an accumulation of details - both emotional ones related to character and wonderfully incisive observations linked to time and place. An utterly authentic and brilliantly written character study, this is a strong recommendation for lovers of historical adventure and romance.
http://www.amazon.com/Evelyns-Anxious...
Evelyn's Anxious Bench (The Baker Family Saga)
www.amazon.com
The first book in the baker family saga is about Evelyn Baker Brook. Evelyn doesn't want to leave her comfortable home in Maryland and blaze a
By Talleyrand (Sydney, Australia) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Evelyn's Anxious Bench (The Baker Family Saga) (Kindle Edition)
A fantastic female story of empowerment set during the sojourner days of the early 19th Century in the historic Wilamette Valley, Evelyn's Anxious Bench is an absorbing read from the first page on. I was hooked by author Allison Kohn's expert handling of characterization and fell in love with her protagonist. Kohn knows how to keep the reader glued and does this through an accumulation of details - both emotional ones related to character and wonderfully incisive observations linked to time and place. An utterly authentic and brilliantly written character study, this is a strong recommendation for lovers of historical adventure and romance.
http://www.amazon.com/Evelyns-Anxious...
Evelyn's Anxious Bench (The Baker Family Saga)
www.amazon.com
The first book in the baker family saga is about Evelyn Baker Brook. Evelyn doesn't want to leave her comfortable home in Maryland and blaze a
September 24, 2013
Review of Evelyn's Anxious Bence by Paula Rose Michelson - author of the Casa Naomi books
Thank you Paula Rose Michelson, for this wonderfully insightful review;
Paula Rose Michelsonposted toAllison Kohn
11 hours ago ·
I hope you enjoy reading this review as much as I did writing it!
"Evelyn's Anxious Bench" gets 5* from me! For lovers of historic fiction researched to the nine's "Evelyn's Anxious Bench" takes the reader on a unique journey as the Jonathan Baker's family, used to being waited on hand and foot makes the difficult journey from Maryland through the Oregon Trail to finally arrive in the Willamette Valley without the assistance of those slaves who made life, according to Evelyn, "Bearable." Author, Allison Kohn has wisely set this tail in a primitive and demanding land, and juxtaposed what the sojourners are used to, with what they need to learn to survive. Upon this canvas, we discover that the lessons presented to this clan are the very ones we in the 21st century would be wise to learn from. "Can fiction teach us how to make our life better?" you might ask. My resounding answer is, "In this case absolutely!" Walk in the shoes of these erstwhile pioneers who press on because the head of the family insists they do and see what befalls them as they travel the Bear River. The passage is so well written that for a moment, I heard the roar and smelled the fragrant air.
For those armchair pioneers, for those who long to go but fear losing the comforts of home and hearth, a harrowing journey awaits replete with history, and the bonding together through loss of comfort to the building a new life and town in the west. You'll experience the hardships, feel the loss of loved ones, and experience the pain and suffering that were daily occurrences in the 1800's. And hopefully, you'll come away from this novel thanking God, or your lucky star that you live in this century rather than that one. I do believe once you've read the last word, you'll find yourself rejoicing in the journey, glad to be safely at home, yet well aware that the read has equipped you to continue here better equipped than you were before because this fiction is much more than that! Thank you, Allison Kohn for using this story to show us more than we ever expected.
Evelyn's Anxious Bench (The Baker Family Saga)
www.amazon.com
This the first of the Baker Family saga books. It is Evelyn's story and is a Christian self-help in novel form to entertain as it gives the reader some good ways to face the ups and downs of their walk with God. It will make you laugh
Paula Rose Michelsonposted toAllison Kohn
11 hours ago ·
I hope you enjoy reading this review as much as I did writing it!
"Evelyn's Anxious Bench" gets 5* from me! For lovers of historic fiction researched to the nine's "Evelyn's Anxious Bench" takes the reader on a unique journey as the Jonathan Baker's family, used to being waited on hand and foot makes the difficult journey from Maryland through the Oregon Trail to finally arrive in the Willamette Valley without the assistance of those slaves who made life, according to Evelyn, "Bearable." Author, Allison Kohn has wisely set this tail in a primitive and demanding land, and juxtaposed what the sojourners are used to, with what they need to learn to survive. Upon this canvas, we discover that the lessons presented to this clan are the very ones we in the 21st century would be wise to learn from. "Can fiction teach us how to make our life better?" you might ask. My resounding answer is, "In this case absolutely!" Walk in the shoes of these erstwhile pioneers who press on because the head of the family insists they do and see what befalls them as they travel the Bear River. The passage is so well written that for a moment, I heard the roar and smelled the fragrant air.
For those armchair pioneers, for those who long to go but fear losing the comforts of home and hearth, a harrowing journey awaits replete with history, and the bonding together through loss of comfort to the building a new life and town in the west. You'll experience the hardships, feel the loss of loved ones, and experience the pain and suffering that were daily occurrences in the 1800's. And hopefully, you'll come away from this novel thanking God, or your lucky star that you live in this century rather than that one. I do believe once you've read the last word, you'll find yourself rejoicing in the journey, glad to be safely at home, yet well aware that the read has equipped you to continue here better equipped than you were before because this fiction is much more than that! Thank you, Allison Kohn for using this story to show us more than we ever expected.
Evelyn's Anxious Bench (The Baker Family Saga)
www.amazon.com
This the first of the Baker Family saga books. It is Evelyn's story and is a Christian self-help in novel form to entertain as it gives the reader some good ways to face the ups and downs of their walk with God. It will make you laugh
September 1, 2013
A review of Deep Trouble
MANY THANKS TO MY FRIEND AND CO-AUTHOR ALLEN SMITH. this is why I write the way I do:
***** The author is fantastic! Couldn't hardly put the book down.
By Allen Smith on August 31, 2013
Format: Paperback
This is a charming story about faith and trusting in God. It's an easy read, and could easily be part of your Quiet Time. Fantastic writing had me wanting more, bravo to this author! This book is something that just pulled me in. Realistic situations and a somewhat normal progression of plausible events do more for me than forced irony based upon ongoing coincidences. This book hit the mark. Character development, story line and flow make Deep Trouble an interesting read. It touched all my emotions - at times making me smile, and then making me want to cry. I enjoyed how the author uses Biblical principles throughout the story. There is Good Bible teaching and practical applications through the lives of the characters. I had been looking for another solid Christian author and I have found her.
God Bless!
http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Trouble-Ba...
***** The author is fantastic! Couldn't hardly put the book down.
By Allen Smith on August 31, 2013
Format: Paperback
This is a charming story about faith and trusting in God. It's an easy read, and could easily be part of your Quiet Time. Fantastic writing had me wanting more, bravo to this author! This book is something that just pulled me in. Realistic situations and a somewhat normal progression of plausible events do more for me than forced irony based upon ongoing coincidences. This book hit the mark. Character development, story line and flow make Deep Trouble an interesting read. It touched all my emotions - at times making me smile, and then making me want to cry. I enjoyed how the author uses Biblical principles throughout the story. There is Good Bible teaching and practical applications through the lives of the characters. I had been looking for another solid Christian author and I have found her.
God Bless!
http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Trouble-Ba...
August 26, 2013
Day by Day
5.0 out of 5 stars An Inspiring Story of Family and Faith, August 25, 2013
By gwlupo
This review is from: Day by Day (Volume 2) (Paperback)
This second novel in Allison Kohn's Baker family saga plunges fast into the lives of these interesting and inspiring characters who were introduced in the first book. It might be helpful to read the books in order, but this story can stand on its own. This huge family of grandparents, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends continues with their mid-1800s frontier lives in the Willamette Valley after their trek there from comfortable lives in Maryland.
The Bakers now are well established in Oregon, and the main story follows the life of beautiful young Diana and the growth of her Christian faith as two new settlers fall in love with her. This plot is complicated by the fact that these two young men are brothers. Another local man, a villainous character out to rob the Bakers and kidnap and harm Diana, lurks about trying to carry out his evil plan.
The personalities of many other family members and friends develop in this story, all of them with their challenges and victories. One of the most entertaining is the young girl Alice, who is headstrong, often wrong but willing to learn, brave, emotional and often confused, but funny and inspiring nonetheless. She and the other children bring some good laughs to this tale that shows the trials and feelings that pioneer north westerners must have experienced.
Some of the best scenes in the story are those in which the adults of the family teach the younger ones and the children how to face their problems with Christian faith and Christian actions. These are gentle, admirable people trying to live kind and honest lives under often difficult circumstances.
In this novel, Allison Kohn writes a tale with believable and inspiring characters who draw the reader into their lives. Two of her big talents as a writer are describing her characters and their environment. She easily helps the reader picture these people, their small frontier village, and the majestic Oregon scenery surrounding it.
This is a book well worth reading. I recommend it particularly for readers looking for inspirational fiction, for those who like romance, and for those who enjoy stories of the west.
A copy of this book was received in exchange for an honest review.
By gwlupo
This review is from: Day by Day (Volume 2) (Paperback)
This second novel in Allison Kohn's Baker family saga plunges fast into the lives of these interesting and inspiring characters who were introduced in the first book. It might be helpful to read the books in order, but this story can stand on its own. This huge family of grandparents, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends continues with their mid-1800s frontier lives in the Willamette Valley after their trek there from comfortable lives in Maryland.
The Bakers now are well established in Oregon, and the main story follows the life of beautiful young Diana and the growth of her Christian faith as two new settlers fall in love with her. This plot is complicated by the fact that these two young men are brothers. Another local man, a villainous character out to rob the Bakers and kidnap and harm Diana, lurks about trying to carry out his evil plan.
The personalities of many other family members and friends develop in this story, all of them with their challenges and victories. One of the most entertaining is the young girl Alice, who is headstrong, often wrong but willing to learn, brave, emotional and often confused, but funny and inspiring nonetheless. She and the other children bring some good laughs to this tale that shows the trials and feelings that pioneer north westerners must have experienced.
Some of the best scenes in the story are those in which the adults of the family teach the younger ones and the children how to face their problems with Christian faith and Christian actions. These are gentle, admirable people trying to live kind and honest lives under often difficult circumstances.
In this novel, Allison Kohn writes a tale with believable and inspiring characters who draw the reader into their lives. Two of her big talents as a writer are describing her characters and their environment. She easily helps the reader picture these people, their small frontier village, and the majestic Oregon scenery surrounding it.
This is a book well worth reading. I recommend it particularly for readers looking for inspirational fiction, for those who like romance, and for those who enjoy stories of the west.
A copy of this book was received in exchange for an honest review.
August 13, 2013
Writing the Baker family saga
It started as a simple one book adventure about the Baker family's trek across the continent to the Willamette Valley in 1842. the trouble was, there were five of Jonathan Baker's children and all of them had at least one child. That meant I was writing about twenty different people, not to mention the Thomases and the red haired man, etc. I knew who i was talking about, because I knew them all personally, but my readers usually got confused. I sent my first draft to Thomas Nelson, who wrote me a long letter about editing it and getting the words all spelled correctly. I took this as a total rejection and it wasn't until years later I found out publishers simply send a form rejection slip when they aren't interested in your work. through the years of sending numerous work off to publishers, the only other time a publisher wrote to me was when I submitted a science fiction fantasy. She sent the rejection form along with a letter telling me how much she enjoyed my story, but...
Hopping right off that bunny trail, I decided to make the story of the baker family into a number of books with the focus on one member at a time. Alice Mae, later known only as Alice, always played a large part of the other's stories, simply because she was the focal point in my mind. She is the embodiment of all my faults. The other characters developed themselves by way of acquaintances and family members.
Hopping right off that bunny trail, I decided to make the story of the baker family into a number of books with the focus on one member at a time. Alice Mae, later known only as Alice, always played a large part of the other's stories, simply because she was the focal point in my mind. She is the embodiment of all my faults. The other characters developed themselves by way of acquaintances and family members.
