Friday, March 20, 2009

Chicken On The Fender

My dear mother sat in this chair before me and told me wonderful stories of her trip across the Old Oregon Trail. I look back now and wish I had recorded what she related to me. I do remember some of the things she said, but they will not be as interesting as they would if you were hearing them from her. She lived in Kansas, but she caught the wagon train out of Nebraska. She talked of the cold winters and the cows standing in the fields frozen. Fire was made by burning the dried animal chips they found along the way. Sometimes she walked and sometimes she rode. When she sat in this old rocking chair (which is from the turn of the century, the late 1800's into the 1900's) I would sit on the floor at her feet, arms crossed and resting on her knees, as she told me many of her stories. Now I sit in the old rocker, but am getting off my rocker to tell you some fascinating tales of my own. I came from Portland, Oregon to California in 1929. We came in an old car called "The Star." Many stops were made along the way to put water in the radiator as the old gal was huffing and puffing and putting off steam because she was too hot. My dad carried containers of water for such occasions. He also made a makeshift pen for old Bessie (my sister's bantam chicken) who was sitting on two eggs waiting for them to hatch. There was no way my sis was going to leave her Bessie behind, so that is why she ended up in a cage on the fender of the old Star. We arrived in Concord, California in January, 1929.





Bessie & me and sister & bunny



Dad & old Star car


Old Star car

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