And I Was Back In 1861
Lately it seems that Rickey and I meet ourselves coming and going and sometimes we have to stop and regroup and remember just which one we are doing, coming or going. Life just seems to get faster and faster, and I can’t find a place where I can force it to slow, if only for a little while.
Now, with this in mind, understand that I have not reached the point in life where I can roll down the road at 50 MPH and watch the scenery, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t do very well when the people in front of me have the time to do just that. So, when our line of traffic came to a screeching almost halt last week, I found myself patting the floor and craning my neck, trying to see what in the world was slowing us down and just how we could get around whatever was causing the problem.
It wasn’t long before I had my answer when I saw a convoy of eighteen wheelers loaded with square bales being brought into the state, and immediately I felt the tension run right out of me and down through what would have been the floor boards once upon a time because those bales represented the fact that someone was going to be able to hang on a while longer…someone could still afford to feed while praying that rain will come and spring will find us back in business here in Texas.
As crazy as it sounds, those bales did something else. They completely made me forget that we were going to be late to our next appointment because just the site of them transported my mind back in time…to another time when men actually faced certain danger to come to our rescue, and yet they did it anyway…
“The spring of 1861 found the settlers of Comanche County at what was probably one of their very lowest points. In fact, there had to have been many who suffered private moments of wondering just why they had ever thought that they could tame a wilderness.
“According to E.L. Deaton, the men couldn’t get into their fields to plant; most were without provisions, and many had lost their teams.
“‘I was set afoot five different times by Indians stealing my horses. I lost three work-oxen killed, and about thirty head of grown hogs, all killed in two beds at one time by redskins. When spring opened up…
“‘I had only one ox that I could call my own. The horses were all gone, the hogs and oxen were killed, and I had abandoned home to save the life of myself and family. My situation was but a fair sample of the condition of the people on the frontier at that time. It is true we all had cattle, more or less, but they were scattered on a thousand hills.’
“Those who did survive the Indian attacks came close to starving to death; however, Comanche County will forever be indebted to Bell County, for when the citizens of Bell County heard of the settlers’ plight, they sent five wagons of flour to the aid of the Comanche citizens.
“The flour arrived under the guard of about forty men. These forty men, combined with the Comanche men, did their best to run the Indians out of the county. However, this was only temporary, and within a few days the Comanches were back again.”-The View From The Old Oak Tree, Fredda Davis Jones