Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.
What a fine, perfectly told story! Captain Jefferson Kyle Kidd is an aging veteran of the War of 1812 and the Mexican War. Now, after the Civil War he supports himself by traveling around lawless Reconstruction Texas and reading articles from newspapers to paying audiences.
Along the way he is asked to take on the burden delivering a ten year old girl who has lived with the Kiowas since she was captured at the age of six to her surviving relatives.
She speaks no English and is desperate to return to the only mother she remembers -- her Kiowa mother.
These are wonderful, believable characters -- I found myself thinking of Gus from Lonesome Dove and Mattie from True Grit. And all the minor characters and even the horses have memorable personalities.
In just over 200 pages, Jiles has brought to life an era and its people. Highly recommended!
Our cousin Barb sent me the following, knowing it would interest me. It's a peek at life in NC in the 1800's, told by the great grandfather of one of her friends.
It's also a reminder to all of us that perhaps future generations might be interested in our reminiscences. I loved his description of his school and of travel -- floating around Texas in search of a fortune -- and his philosophical outlook.
I only wish he'd written more.
(By D. A. Yoder, Sr.)
between the restless present and the more quiet times of my boyhood days is
fast lengthening out.Though
eighty-eight years old I still like to mingle with the wonderful things of
life; but am moderate in enjoying them.The shades of evening cannot be very distant from me.It is said that “advanced years bring
increased leisure, and time employed is life enjoyed”, which is true only in
good health.While I am feeling well I
will write this sketch, beginning with my schoolboy days. I was a small boy when I first went to school
with my oldest brother and my twin sister.I remember the little log school house with 3 small windows, a rock
chimney and a wide fireplace.There was
no system, no district, no committee, and teachers were not examined, though
anyone who could write a legible hand and make goose quill pens for the pupils,
was considered qualified to teach. Just
look back for a moment to see the contrast between the present and the past.When I was a boy, Lincoln County extended
from the Catawba River north of Hickory, to the South Carolina line near Kings
Mountain; when the towns of Newton, Hickory, Dallas, and Gastonia did not
exist; and Lincolnton was a little old town in which cattle roamed at will on
the streets and hogs rooted and wallowed in mud holes on the Court Square.
I was born in
Lincoln County and lived in it the greater part of my life, though I remember
we once lived in Catawba a few years, then back in Lincoln again yet never
moved from the old home place.
When I was a
boy perhaps in my teens, I witnessed the hanging of Langford in Lincolnton for
the murder of his wife. The gallows was erected near the river west end of
town.I don’t remember dates, only
events which made impressions on my mind that time has never erased.
that my father was at work that day on the Court House recently pulled down.
I first saw
Charlotte when I was between 20 and 25 years old, traveled with team on plank
road from Lincolnton, carried flour packed in barrels which I made myself.There was no railroad to Charlotte then and
very few in the state.Travel was by
stagecoach and horseback, and mails were carried the same way.The Tennessee farmers drove their pork hogs
across the mountains by way of Asheville on through Lincolnton to Charlotte
selling them on the way as they traveled.
died at the age of 49 years, I being 20 and second oldest of twelve
children.I remained with mother and
family until I was twenty-five years old.Then I desired to see more of the world.My first adventure was on horseback, a trip across the Blue Ridge
Mountains to visit an uncle in East Tennessee.The next trip from home was an overland trip to Texas in company with
Col. George Hedick, L. A. Hoyle of Lincoln and Jacob Rhyne of Gaston County,
who immigrated to Texas with their families in 1859.We traveled with wagons and teams and were
two months on the way.
around in Texas two years, seeking a fortune but failed to find it.I was in Texas when the first shot was fired
on Fort Sumter opening the War Between the States in which I took an active
part in the Confederate Army and realized the hardships and horrors of war.I was a member of Co. A 10th Texas
and fought under command of Gen. Bragg in Kentucky and Gen. J. Johnson in
Tennessee and Georgia in the army of Tennessee.
When the war
ended I was thirty years old and penniless and very much discouraged.Then I turned a new leaf in life.I married and went to work in real earnest to
obtain a living by farming, though I never had a strong ambition for hard work
just for the fun or the money, but necessity urged me and it was a case of
“root hog or die”.
When I was
twenty one years old and began to work for myself, I was with the class that
mowed the wild grass meadow along Potts Creek with the old time Dutch Scythe
for 50 cents per day, and cradled wheat for $1.00 per day in the longest and
hottest days in June when days were more than eight hours long.
Thanks to the
man who invented the mower, the reaper and binder.
firsthand knowledge of the events of almost a century, the greatest century of
progress in the history of the world.I have lived
to see some of the wonderful inventions and discoveries which have transformed
the earth - the telegraph, the telephone, the wireless, the aero plane and the
The world has
rushed on with giant strides.It seems
that I have lived several centuries in one.Providence has been kind to me, I have enjoyed fairly good health all my
life.I have tried to take the world
easy in its mad rush to obtain the things that perish.I still look straight to the front and try to
keep step to the music of the time, let it be
All images and content are subject to copyright and are the sole property of Vicki Lane Mysteries. If you would like to use something from my blog on your blog or website, please email me and ask first. I'll probably say yes.
I'm the author of The Elizabeth Goodweather Full Circle Farm Appalachian Mysteries from Bantam Dell. The series includes SIGNS IN THE BLOOD (LA MONTAGNE DES SECRETS in France), ART'S BLOOD, (LE SECRET DES APPALACHES in France,) OLD WOUNDS,IN A DARK SEASON (Anthony Nominee, Best PBO), and UNDER THE SKIN. There's also THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS (a spinoff/standalone)chronicling the unexpected life story of Miss Birdie, one of Elizabeth's neighbors.
Currently I have just completed a historical novel, dealing with a massacre in my county during the Civil War.
I came to this weird business late (my first novel was published in 2005) and am still trying to figure it out.
As my novels are set in a place much like my real life home, I thought I'd use this blog to share pictures of our farm and county. I've been blogging for nearly nine years now, on an almost daily basis, and the topics have ranged from writing, chickens, food, books, quilts, flora and fauna of all sorts, to the occasional tiny rant. There's no plan, but there are lots of pictures.
There's more information about me and my books on my web site: http://vickilanemysteries.com/