Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Saving Belgium


Learning more about my Belgian ancestry has led to greater interest in Belgium’s history. I knew Belgium had been overrun by Germany at the beginning of World War I, but I hadn’t known how bad the war was for Belgium until reading a new book about the Americans who went to Belgium to provide relief for the starving nation.


Belgium became a country in 1830. It was a divided country of French-speaking Flemings and Dutch-speaking Walloons. By the time of World War I, Belgium was the most industrialized country in Europe, and the most densely populated. It imported 75% of its food.
The Germans kicked off their war by marching through Belgium to get into France and capture Paris. They didn’t expect the Belgians to display nationalistic feeling when they were already divided ethnically. The Germans were shocked when the Belgians resisted their advance. They felt swindled by the Belgian endeavor to maintain independence, and their timetable for winning the war by Christmas was obliterated.
Their occupation of Belgium turned brutal. Men, women, and children were executed for resisting. Belgian industries were dismantled and transported to Germany, leaving massive unemployment in Belgium. Forty million francs per month was demanded as a contribution to the war. Thousands of men were deported for slave labor in Germany. Movement outside of one’s town or village was forbidden without difficult-to-obtain passes. Imports and exports were stopped, which meant starvation.
Belgian representatives traveled to London, looking for a way to avert the starvation of the country. Herbert Hoover, a wealthy American industrialist who was helping Americans stranded in Europe by the war, volunteered to lead the effort of getting food to Belgium.
The British were against the neutral effort to feed the ten millions people of Belgium and northern France cut off by the German occupation. They believed the Germans were obligated to feed the conquered people. By allowing the Belgians to starve, more German troops would be required to stay in Belgium to subdue the inevitable revolts. By relieving the Germans of that duty, the Commission for Relief of Belgium prolonged the war.

Little girl eating bread supplied by the Commission For Relief In Belgium.

The Germans allowed the relief because they saw it as serving their interests. Belgium would remain peaceful if fed, making their occupation easier. As the war dragged on, they, too, put up resistance. The British blockaded the North Sea to starve the Germans. They would have to relax the blockade to save Belgium, but the CRB weakened the pressure to do so.
They also came to resent the hero image the American delegates acquired for the Belgians. Belgium was their country now. It was the people’s duty to be submissive to them. Besides, the Americans were probably spying. (Yes, they did report on what they saw of Germany’s ability to carry on the war.)
Both sides allowed the relief to continue because Herbert Hoover masterfully orchestrated a worldwide PR campaign to highlight the plight of the Belgians and gain universal sympathy that the belligerents couldn’t ignore.
When the American relief delegates had to leave Belgium in 1917 upon the US entry into the war, the still-neutral Netherlands and Spain kept the relief going to feed Belgium.
Further Reading: World War I Crusaders: A Band of Yanks in German-occupied Belgium Help Save Millions From Starvation as Civilians Resist the Harsh German Rule. By Jeffrey B. Miller

Wednesday, November 7, 2018

My Belgian Roots


For the longest time, I’ve known who all my great-great-grandparents were. For most of them, I knew their parents and beyond. One brick wall was my great-great-grandmother, Josephine Denis. She was born in 1848 in Belgium; her parents were Francis and Florence. In the 1860 census, she lived with a 48-year-old Belgian man and a 17-year-old Dutchman. That’s all I knew.


Until this summer. I discovered a Belgian genealogical site and made contact with Ron, a knowledgeable genealogist who thrives on tearing down brick walls.
Josephine’s mother died in 1854. Her father took her and her four surviving brothers to Wisconsin, where he sent away his children to four different homes. The two youngest brothers were placed with two elderly seamstresses. Why didn’t Josephine go there instead of ending up as a maid by the tender age of twelve? The women may have been much better at raising a young girl and taught her sewing.
I don’t know anything else about Josephine until she married. Did she have contact with her father and brothers?


Why did Francois Denis leave Belgium? Probably for economic improvement, but at the cost of breaking up his family. The young children had already lost their mother; now they were separated in a strange country. Apparently, Francois didn’t have family who would help him with his youngsters. In Wisconsin, he moved to another county, remarried, and had a second family.
Ron says it was common for parents to put their children in what was basically foster care when they were in economic hardship. Being a single parent, mother or father, was very difficult for parent and children at that time. Still, I would like to know about Francois’ continued involvement with his first family.
I didn’t know much about Belgium’s history other than its brutal occupation of the Congo. As I’ve learned more about the country’s experience in the twentieth century, I take more pride in my Belgian heritage. More on that later.

Tuesday, August 7, 2018

The Saboteurs Who Wanted to Escape Germany


Seventy-six years ago, on August 8, 1942, six German “spies” were executed in Washington.


               Eight German saboteurs were put ashore in Florida and New York during World War II. They were to destroy aspects of America’s war production, but most, apparently, had no intention of doing so.
               Herbert Haupt was a naïve young man interested in good times and ran away to Mexico to avoid responsibilities. He and his friend Wolfgang Wergin spent three weeks in Mexico until they ran out of money. They couldn’t return to the US unless they paid a duty on the car Wolfgang sold when they were broke. Since they were both naturalized Americans of German birth, the German consulate got them passage on a ship going to Japan. From there, they went to Germany. Herbie jumped at the chance to return to the US with the saboteurs; Wolfgang declined, believing the G-men would get them. He ended up fighting in the German army on the Russian front. Not until 1956 was Wergin able to return to the United States.
               Among the seven other saboteurs, one was a survivor of Gestapo torture and imprisonment; another was badly wounded in the Wehrmacht. George Dasch intended all along to turn them all in as his way of fighting the Nazi regime.
               The actions of Herbert Hoover and the FBI are disgusting. The saboteurs’ treatment and trial were never about justice, but about appearances and a moral victory over Germany. Six were executed. Dasch and Burger were repatriated to Germany in 1948, but their lives were ruined.
And Hoover wanted glory. He was more guilty than the saboteurs, lying to them, trying to hide the fact that Dasch went to the FBI rather than the FBI discovering a nefarious plot afoot. Hoover should have been executed.
            
A new book, Enemies: A War Story by Kenneth Rosenberg, is a fictionalized account of the saboteurs. I recommend it.

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Who Could Save the Czar?


One hundred years ago, the Russian imperial family was murdered.

Not being a Russophile, I was unaware of the blame game going on as to whose fault it was that the Romanov family was killed. With all of the royal families in Europe being related, one of them should have whisked the family to safety.
England’s King George gets the biggest rap, but Germany’s Emperor Wilhelm seems to have been in a better position, since Germany was dictating terms in the war with Russia. Plus, most of the Romanov women had been German princesses.
Many factors made escape difficult, if not impossible: the war, the political alliances, personal antipathies, logistics, geography, and the weather. The Soviets wanted the tsar to pay for centuries of despotism; they weren’t going to let him go.
When one throne toppled, the others felt shockwaves. The kings had to protect their own thrones rather than assist the disposed. In any case, there was really only one window of opportunity for the Romanovs to leave, and that was before Nicholas abdicated.
The Romanovs didn’t want to leave Russia, in any case. They would have preferred death to being rescued by Germany. Brutal as it was, that’s what they got.
Recommended reading: The Race to Save the Romanovs  by Helen Rappaport

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

On the Arizona


In the local library’s semi-annual book sale, I found a prize: All the Gallant Men: Theh First Memoir by a USS Arizona Survivor. Everyone knows what happened at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. How much do you know about the sailors who manned the ships and what they experienced?


The Arizona shouldn’t have been at Pearl. It was scheduled to leave for the Bremerton, Washington, shipyard for an overhaul in late November. In late October, however, the ships were out on maneuvers and, on a very foggy October 22nd, the USS Oklahoma got out of sync and collided with the Arizona. The result was a hole “big enough to drive a hay truck through.” Time in drydock to patch the hole delayed the trip to Bremerton and on December 7th, the Arizona was still at Pearl.
Several bombs that hit the Arizona proved to be duds. But one bomb pierced four steel decks and exploded in an ammunition magazine. With a whoosh, the ship blew up in a series of explosions. Among the 1,177 sailors killed were all twenty-one members of the Arizona’s band.
The band members had attended the U.S. Navy School of Music where they studied ear training, harmony, and music theory, and had private instruction on their instruments. Eight bands had been assembled, graduated in May of 1941, and assigned to ships. Band #22 drew the Arizona. Three of the other bands also headed to battleships at Pearl: the California, Tennessee, and West Virginia.
Band #22 caught up with the Arizona on June 17 in San Pedro, California. Even before checking out their quarters, the band went topside and played a concert, stunning the ship’s crew. The previous band had been older and hadn’t trained to play jazz or modern dance music. The crew loved having a band that played music like the big bands back home.


Up and down Battleship Row on December 7, bands assembled on their fantails to play the national anthem during the raising of the flag at eight o’clock. The band on the Nevada jumped the gun and was already playing when the attack began. After a slight hesitation when the bandmaster noticed enemy planes strafing them, the band completed the anthem, then ran for their battle stations.
Battle station for the bandsmen was the ammunition hold. They manned the hoists to take ammunition to gun turret number two. Seamen placed cloth powder bags on the hoists and the bandsmen, standing in rows on each side of the hoists, made sure the 75-pound bags did not become dislodged or snagged. A spill of black powder would create a hazard if a spark ignited it.


At 8:06, the bomb penetrated the magazine. The bandsmen and over a thousand other sailors never had a chance.

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

A Sound From the Past


While stopped on a bike ride to admire bleeding hearts, I heard a long-familiar sound. A brisk breeze caused waves to slap against a pontoon boat moored nearby. That tinny, hollow knock of water against boats is unmistakable.


My grandparents had a summer home in a trailer park. Located on the shore of Green Lake in Wisconsin, the little community had a long boathouse divided into individual stalls. My grandfather rented one slip for his boat.
One light bulb provided inadequate lighting. A narrow ledge across the front and along one side required nibble footing. The water was always black. Scary black. What was down there?
And, of course, spiders inhabited the closed space.
One year, the hoists didn’t let the boat down evenly and the back end of the boat sank into that dark water. The gas tank was undoubtedly contaminated. The way to empty the tank was to insert a hose and suck on it to siphon out the watered-down gas. The task left my dad with the taste of gasoline in his mouth. His remedy? Drink beer. Alcohol was never found in our home, so that made a lasting impression.
All these thoughts come back to me when I hear waves beat against boats. What sounds from your past do you remember?

Saturday, May 26, 2018

Linda Matchett's Story Sparks



Welcome to the Story Sparks Multi-author Blog Tour. May 21-26, 2018 readers get a chance to enter and win ebooks from six different authors. Linda Shenton Matchett is today’s featured author. One lucky winner will receive a copy Love’s Harvest. Today, Linda will be talking about History, Mystery, and Faith. Read on to discover what sparks Linda’s creativity and to enter the rafflecopter to win her heartwarming retelling of the biblical book of Ruth.



I’ve been making up stories since I was young. In fact, I recently found my notebooks from back then and had quite a laugh reading my childish scrawl and teenaged angst. Even then, my fertile imagination was apparent.

During interviews and speaking engagements I’m often asked where I get my ideas. The short answer is: I find them everywhere. But that’s not very informative, so I’ll let you in on my secret. I’m constantly on the lookout for “what-if” kernels-sparks, if you will.

For example, if I’m in a public location I people-watch. Not in a creepy, stalker kind of way, but rather “I wonder what those two people are talking about because one of them looks happy-sad-stressed-angry-insert-other-emotion.” In fact, I can usually lasso my husband into the game when he’s with me.

Other things that spark my imagination are newspaper or magazine articles, books or movies I think should have ended or been written differently, historical events, and incidents that happen to me, my family, or friends.

Here are the sparks for each of my books:

Love’s Harvest: I got the idea to write a modern retelling of Ruth from Francine Rivers’ book Redeeming Love which is based on the book of Hosea.

Love Found in Sherwood Forest: The Love Inspired line was open for submissions. They provided myriad locations and trios of objects from which authors could select. (e.g., England, arrows, flowers, and a secret passage or Virginia, a winery, an antique car, and a stolen painting). LI didn’t pick up my story, but another publisher did.

On the Rails: We visited the Grand Canyon about ten years ago where I learned about the Harvey Girls-young women who traveled from the East to be waitresses for the Fred Harvey Restaurant Company during the late 1800s and early 1900s. I was intrigued and did a bunch of research which led me to some of the women’s memoirs.

A Love Not Forgotten: I was asked by a publisher to write a story that culminated with a Spring wedding. While brainstorming, I saw a sitcom on which one of the characters was hit on the head resulting in amnesia.

A Doctor in the House: I read a book about the English country homes that were requisitioned by the government for use as barracks, hospitals, evacuee centers, etc. Combined with learning about Dr. Margaret Craighill, the first female Army doctor during WWII and reading accounts where the Americans were criticized for “being late to the last war, and late to this one,” I knew I had my story.

Under Fire: This is one of the first manuscripts I wrote, and it came about as a result of my coursework with Jerry Jenkins’ Christian Writers’ Guild and attendance at the Crimebake Mystery Writers’ Conference. Classes about brainstorming and panel discussions ignited several ideas that culminated in the eventual plot.

See how easy it is? Take a look around today, and make a list of how many sparks you find.





Linda Shenton Matchett is an author, journalist, and history geek. A native of Baltimore, Maryland, she was born a stone’s throw from Fort McHenry and has lived in historic places all her life. She is a member of ACFW, RWA, and Sisters in Crime. Linda is also a volunteer docent at the Wright Museum of WWII and a trustee for her local public library.

Love’s Harvest:
Noreen Hirsch loses everything including her husband and two sons. Then her adopted country goes to war with her homeland. Has God abandoned her?

Rosa Hirsch barely adjusts to being a bride before she is widowed. She gives up her citizenship to accompany her mother-in-law to her home country. Can Rosa find acceptance among strangers who hate her belligerent nation?

Basil Quincey is rich beyond his wildest dreams, but loneliness stalks him. Can he find a woman who loves him and not his money?

Three people. One God who can raise hope from the ashes of despair.

Purchase Link: www.amazon.com/dp/B01DMB3ZX2

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Creating a Family to Be Proud Of


Welcome to the Story Sparks multi-Author Blog Tour. Between May 21-26, 2018, readers get a chance to enter and win ebooks from six different authors. Today, Terri Wangard is the featured author. A lucky winner will win her Friends & Enemies. Terri will be talking about “Creating a Family to be Proud Of.” Read on to discover what sparks Terri’s creativity and to enter the rafflecopter to win her heartwarming book.


A batch of forgotten letters was found in my grandmother’s house. Written in 1947 and 1948, they came from distant cousins in Germany. My grandparents and other relatives had been sending them care packages. My great-great-grandfather immigrated to Wisconsin in the 1870s, as did two brothers. A fourth brother remained in Germany, and these letters came from his grandchildren.

The family in the letters would be the perfect subject around which to craft a story. Research revealed life in Nazi Germany as increasingly grim before the war even started. The letters provide a fascinating glimpse of life in war torn Germany, but nothing about the war years. How had the family coped? I turned to the internet and searched on the family’s factory name. I found it all right, in a list of German companies that used slave labor. I wanted my family to be the good guys, but that hope grew shaky.

Contact had ceased in 1948 after the German currency reform, and with their silence in the letters, many questions couldn’t be answered. Why had they refrained from any mention of their thoughts and activities during Hitler’s regime? Desire to forget? Shame of the vanquished? Concern the American family wouldn’t help if they knew the truth?

The family consisted of a brother, his wife, and three young children, and a sister and her husband, and their “old gray mother,” who turned 66 in 1947. Another brother languished as a prisoner of war in Russia, not returning home until 1949, I learned from the German department for the notification of next of kin. The sister and her bridegroom had lived in Canada for five years, returning to Germany in 1937 because she was homesick. They were bombed out of their homes and lived in their former offices, temporarily fixed up as a residence. Before the war, they employed about one hundred men, but in 1947, had fewer than forty-five, with no coal, electricity, or raw materials to work with.

My imagination took over. The family, not the newlyweds, came to Wisconsin. Because a critiquer scorned someone returning to Hitler’s Germany due to homesickness, I gave them a more compelling reason when I rewrote the story. The grandfather had died and the father had to return to take over the factory, much to the daughters’ dismay, who loved their new life in America.

Of course, they did not support Hitler. Because their factory had to produce armaments and meet quotas imposed on them, they had no choice in accepting Eastern European forced laborers, Russian POWs, and Italian military internees.

The older daughter (my main character) took pride in committing acts of passive resistance. Now a war widow, she hid a downed American airman, an act punishable by execution. When they were betrayed, a dangerous escape from Germany ensued.

Maybe the family did support Hitler. Many did before realizing his true colors. My version probably doesn’t come close to the truth, especially concerning the daughter. The real daughter was twelve years old in 1947. No matter. This is fiction, and this is a family I can be proud of.


Friends & Enemies
Aiding downed enemy airmen is punishable by death in Nazi Germany,
but he’s an old friend. How much will she risk to help him?
A World War II novel. http://amzn.to/2eGJeoR

Terri Wangard’s first Girl Scout badge was the Writer. Holder of a bachelor’s degree in history and a master’s degree in library science, she lives in Wisconsin. Her research included going for a ride in a WWII B-17 Flying Fortress bomber. Classic Boating Magazine, a family business since 1984, keeps her busy as an associate editor.


Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Spies, Flutes, and Red-heads by Carole Brown


Welcome to the Story Sparks multi-Author Blog Tour.
Between May 21-26, 2018 readers get a chance to enter and win ebooks from six different authors.
Today I'm the featured author.

A lucky winner will get her choice of a Kindle copy of
With Music in Their Hearts or A Flute in the Willows.

Today I'll be talking about these books: The Spies of WWII. Read on to discover what sparks my creativity and to enter the rafflecopter to win one of my heartwarming books.
  
Spies:
Developing my WWII Spies series came from two things:
·      Listening to my mother talk about her life during WWII and seeing the pictures she had
·     A short story about a “supposed” civilian spy during WWII from an elderly man. Rumors had it that HE was that spy, but he neither confirmed nor denied it.T
Because my interest in WWII was sparked through these two avenues, I found it easy to fall in love with the research for the books.

Researching spies was an eye-opening experience. Not only danger is involved, but there are tons of reasons why men—and women—serve in such a capacity. The rewards are vast—money, esteem, the parties and socializing, exotic countries—if all goes as hoped and the spy escapes detection. Caught—prison and death can be the result.


Music:
And since dangers and sacrifices abound in WWII stories—some of which I brought out in these books, I also wanted to create a sense of fun, warmth and love to lighten the suspense. One way I managed to create the feeling was to bring music into the story as a subplot.

The idea to include music in these books was sparked because of my own love of music. The decision as to what or how it was brought into each book was also a fairly easy decision. Music has so many benefits besides lightening up suspense books.
·     Encouragement
·     Mood enhancers
·     Spiritual uplifter
·     Healthy
and so much more.

One tidbit before I move on to the sisters. I love most instruments, but the flute was not one of them—until I heard one played by an expert. That changed my ideas about flutes, and from then on, and the idea was sparked! The flute was the perfect instrument to include in athletic Josie's life.


The Red-headed Sisters:
I'd already planned to feature three red-haired sisters in their own books. It was fun to create their personalities and who the heroes would be. Fortunately, while I wrote book one, the heroes for the other two books appeared and were good matches for sisters two and three.

I've always loved red hair. It's so vibrant, rich in color and alluring. Studying and researching the subject I realized how many different shades of red there are and helped spark the choice of shades for each sister to match their personalities.

All in all, the first two books have been a delight to write, and I'm looking forward to the writing the third book soon.

Let me share brief thoughts how the spies, music and sisters all worked together to make this series heartwarming and suspenseful.

With Music in Their Hearts
With my interest piqued and imagination soaring, I settled on the plot for book one where the hero—handsome, smart, a minister and godly—is rejected to serve overseas but recruited to serve as a civilian spy. Sparks of jealousy and love fly between him and the heroine as they battle suspicions that one or the other is not on the up and up.

Emma Jaine Rayner, by her own claims, is a non-professional pianist, who entertains and gives an extra doze of homeyness to the boarding house residents with the nightly musical fests. Her active imagination while playing, increases her longing for a man to love—and Tyrell Walker, the civilian spy, increases the pressure by wooing her with his trained voice.

A Flute in the Willows
In Book Two, the heroine and hero are both rebels in their own way. She has two loves—her skating and Jerry, her husband, an overseas U.S. spy. But when he returns home looking like a skeleton trying to return to life, she’s scared. What happened in Germany to change a man so much? When his wife's life is threatened, Jerry realizes he can’t stand by and do nothing. Jerry has to risk all for the very soul and life of himself—Josie. These two damaged, rebellious people learn the hard way that leaning on God instead of their ownselves and abilities is the only true way to love and happiness.

Josephine Rayner Patterson, the second sister, is quite different from her older sister. She's athletic and training for the Olympics once it's resumed after the war. But returning to her flute after a drastic alteration in her life, it's the balm that heals her troubled heart. In spite of resisting, Jerry Patterson through her music and enduring love, finds his heart strangely drawn to what he's never experienced before.

Sing Until You Die (coming)
The third book in this series has a tentative publishing date of 2019. The youngest sister of the WWII Spies sister overhears a private conversation while singing to the military troops and realizes it's vital information to the well being of the United States. When she’s almost discovered, Claire barely escapes. Surrounded by zealous people she can’t and won’t trust, Claire has no options but to trust the one person she most disdains, the one person she ran from: quiet, plugging-along Wills but rumored to be the best spy serving on U.S. soil. In the midst of danger, Wills has the chance of a lifetime: to show the love of his life, his love for her. Will she learn that God is her strength and wisdom and that no matter how well she can sing, how far she travels, how many men she meets, only Wills can fill the void in her heart?

Claire Roseanne Rayner is the princess of the family, the petted and beloved daughter of the Rayner Family who sings like a bird and is determined to fly away like one too. She loves God but staying away from the boy-turned-man she grew up with is never far from her mind. William (Wills) Mason has never wavered in his love for Claire Rayner. In spite of having no talent in either singing or playing, he's fully behind Claire's musical ambitions. And loving her just might bring him to the point of facing death.



The Spies of WWII, Book 2
A Flute in the Willows
Chapter One
1943
Jerry Patterson stared out the yawning black hole in the side of the plane. Seconds to go before he dropped. Night time parachuting was always a risky thing, but the pilot was one of the best who’d keep this baby right on target, lessening the chances he’d have to hit water. Trees were another matter, but with any kind of luck, the landing would go smooth.
Then to meet his contact and move into the German military high life. His pulse revved up. It was a dangerous game he was about to play.
Josie’s face flashed in his mind, and Jerry felt his heart soften. How he loved his tomboy wife. She was a beautiful butterfly dancing on ice, but put her in a social setting, and she was like a wild creature let lose in a maiden aunt’s prim parlor.
Three weeks of marital bliss. It’d been heaven on earth for him. One rapturous day—and night—after another. She’d cried the night before he’d left, but had been strength personified when he’d boarded the train the next morning.
If—no, when—he got home, he’d wrap his arms around her and not let her out of his sight.
Jerry stepped into the hole and dropped rapidly, counting. One thousand...One thousand one...One thousand two... With a jerk he pulled, the parachute opened above him, and he drifted earthward toward his assignment.


Question for readers:
What is your favorite musical instrument?



  
Besides being a member and active participant of many writing groups, Carole Brown enjoys mentoring beginning writers. An author of ten books, she loves to weave suspense and tough topics into her books, along with a touch of romance and whimsy, and is always on the lookout for outstanding titles and catchy ideas. She and her husband reside in SE Ohio but have ministered and counseled nationally and internationally. Together, they enjoy their grandsons, traveling, gardening, good food, the simple life, and did she mention their grandsons?



Monday, May 21, 2018

125th Anniversary of the Cherokee Strip Land Run of 1893


Welcome to the Story Sparks multi-Author Blog Tour. Between May 21-26, 2018, readers get a chance to enter and win ebooks from six different authors. Today, Jodie Wolfe is the featured author. Two lucky winners will be awarded either her To Claim Her Heart or Mrs. Wigglesworth's Essential Guide to Proper Etiquette and Manners of Refined Society. Jodie will be talking about the Cherokee Strip Land Run of 1893. Read on to discover what sparked Jodie's creativity and to enter the Rafflecopter to win her heartwarming book.




September 16th will mark the 125th anniversary of the Cherokee Strip Land Run of 1893. It was our Nation’s last great race for land. 115,000 people showed up to race for 42,000 plots. I can clearly picture that day. It was hot and dry. Folks gathered along nine different starting places located along the Kansas border and south of the Cherokee Strip in Oklahoma Territory.

All manner of conveyances could be seen—people on foot, horseback, buggies, wagons, bicycles, trains, etc. I can easily imagine the clamor and chaos as all those assembled awaited the gunshot that would signify the start of the race at noon. People were desperate. The country had undergone an economic catastrophe with the plummet of the New York Stock Exchange due to the overinvesting in the railroads. Many businesses that depended upon the railroad were forced to close their doors. Quite a number of banks either closed or called in their loans. It was a difficult time.

Such is the backdrop for my new novel, To Claim Her Heart. This book is especially significant to me since it was my dear mother-in-law who introduced me to the history of the land run. It mattered to her because she had several relatives who completed in the land race and found claims. I vividly remember the summer of 1997 when we stopped off in Oklahoma to see one of those original properties. My sons and I tromped over the land and saw the homestead that was built in 1894. The first home had been a soddy that didn’t last longer than a year.



The rock home I saw was partially built into the side of a hill and in a state of disrepair. A stream gurgled nearby and within a couple of miles, the Gloss (Glass) Mountains cropped out of the landscape. It didn’t take much for me to start imagining characters tromping through the area and choosing to settle there.

While Mom never lived to see this book finally published, she knew that I was working on it in her last days. I’m so thankful that she shared her rich family history with me. Quite a few of the family stories she told me were included in my book.

Here’s what the back cover blurb says:
In 1893, on the eve of the great race for land, Benjamin David prays for God to guide him to his 'Promised Land. Finding property and preaching to the lost are his only ways of honoring his deceased fiancée. He hasn't counted on Elmer (Elsie) Smith claiming the same plot and refusing to leave. Not only is she a burr in his side, but she is full of the homesteading know-how he is sadly lacking.

Obtaining a claim in the Cherokee Strip Land Run is Elsie Smith's only hope for survival, and not just any plot, she has a specific one in mind. The land's not only a way to honor her pa and his life, but also to provide a livelihood for herself. She's willing to put in whatever it takes to get that piece of property, and Elsie's determined to keep it.

Her bitterness is what protects her, and she has no intentions of allowing that preacher to lay claim to her land . . . or her heart.


http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/831a42731/?


Jodie Wolfe creates novels where hope and quirky meet. The power of story to influence lives and change hearts is what motivates her to weave tales that tell of the Savior's faithfulness and forgiveness. She's been a semi-finalist and finalist in various writing contests and is a member of ACFW and RWA. When not writing she enjoys spending time with her husband in Pennsylvania, reading, walking, and being a Grammie. Learn more at www.jodiewolfe.com.





Here’s the first scene:
Competition should be relegated to the male species. Proper young ladies should avoid a situation which permits rivalry, particularly involving the male species. If unavoidable, allow the gentleman to win. Be above reproach in this manner.

Mrs. Wigglesworth’s Essential Guide to Proper Etiquette and Manners of Refined Society

September 15, 1893, Kiowa, Kansas—Border of the Cherokee Strip
“Elmer Smith?”
For once in all of her days, Elsie welcomed the name Pa had insisted on when her life began and Ma’s had ended.
“Is that you, son?”
“Ain’t your son.” Ain’t no one’s son. Elsie shifted her Stetson lower to ward off the man’s scrutiny.
“There’s no need to get your prickles up. Do you testify you’re at least twenty-one years of age and head of your household?”
Elsie nodded and bit back a retort.
“Then sign here.” The man shoved a paper across the makeshift desk. Beads of moisture dotted his upper lip.
She scrawled her name on the line. The page crinkled when she folded and shoved it into her shirt pocket, along with the copy of The Homestead Laws and Pa’s hand-drawn map.
“Get out of the way, kid.” A scraggly looking fellow jabbed into her shoulder.
Elsie stepped out of line, glaring at him. He ignored her and turned his attention to the clerk.
She elbowed through a crowd of men. How had her small town swelled to so many folks? Thankfully there were few she recognized, or, more so, who could recognize her. The less who knew her gender, the better. She certainly didn’t need no man to help her get the land she and Pa had dreamed about.
Elsie scooted her hat up and swiped at the sweat on her forehead before dropping it back into place, scrunching the thick braid she’d pinned up three days prior. Hefting her saddlebags to her opposite shoulder, she hiked the short distance to the livery and retrieved Buster. A short ride would clear her head and prepare her for what lay ahead.
Dust swirled and nearly choked Elsie as she rode in the opposite direction of the throngs, to see the old farm one last time.
Acrid smoke filled her lungs. Nearby fires, to deter Sooners from entering the strip before the race began, burned in the west, but not out of control.
Elsie urged Buster, careful not to tire him. Everything hinged on finding the land tomorrow.
Everything.




At the beginning of each chapter I created advice from a Mrs. Wigglesworth. Of course, most of my characters do the complete opposite. :) Because I’ve had such positive feedback in regard to these sayings, I created an ebook of her quips. I’ll be giving away a copy of it as well as an ecopy of To Claim Her Heart, so be sure to leave a comment.

What time period/historical event draws your attention?

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

America's First Unknown


Have you visited Arlington Cemetery and the Tomb of the Unknowns? Perhaps one of the biggest impressions made is the dedication of the honor guard, keeping watch no matter how bad the weather.


But what about the men inside the tomb? Have you heard how the first man, killed in World War I, found his way to Washington?
Other Allied countries honored an unknown. The French at the Arc de Triomphe, the British at Westminster Abby. A captain in the war, New York Representative Hamilton Fish, introduced legislation for a memorial in the United States,
Army Chief of Staff General Peyton March dismissed the idea. Likewise, Secretary of War Newton Baker believed all dead would be identified, and advised the Senate not to take up the bill. Public support grew, however, and General Pershing lobbied for a tribute. Baker got on board.
The Quartermaster Corps was ordered to select a body buried in France. Every detail of the selection process was planned to assure a body was chosen that could never be identified. From four cemeteries, a body was exhumed and carefully examined for any scrap that could reveal the man’s identity. After three years, he was badly decomposed, and his remains were carefully wrapped in a blanket and placed in a gleaming steel casket.
The four cemeteries represented the four major battles the Americans had fought: Belleau Wood; Bony, in the Somme; Thiaucourt, in the St. Mihiel drive; and Romagne-sous-Montfaucon, in the Meuse-Argonne.
The four identical caskets were taken to Chalons-sur-Marne, in the Champagne region of northeastern France. At the city hall, a French honor guard stood in formation as the caskets were carried inside. For two hours, French citizens passed through, paying final respects to the flag-draped caskets.
That evening, the caskets were shifted around so no one knew which casket came from which cemetery. To further confound the mystery in a game of musical caskets, the remains were then removed from their original caskets and placed in one of the others.
A wounded veteran, Sgt. Edward Younger, was selected to make the final choice. While a French military band played Chopin’s Funeral March, Younger entered the room with a bouquet of white roses. He walked around the caskets, wondering if any held a friend. Finally, he laid the roses on the casket second to his right upon entering the room.
America’s Unknown was transferred to an ebony and silver casket, which was sealed and placed in the city hall lobby. He lay in state until evening, with a French honor guard on one side and Americans on the other, as the public passed through. A funeral cortege, with black horses pulling a caisson, took him to the train station for another hour of laying in state before boarding a train.
After an overnight in Paris, the train arrived in Le Havre for another ceremony with another large crowd of French citizens bearing flowers. An elaborate funeral parade took the Unknown to the USS Olympia, which took him home. A French battleship fired a salute.
More ceremony was accorded the Unknown as he was carried through the streets of Washington. He lay in state in the Capitol Rotunda on Thursday, November 10, 1921. Between 90,000 to 96,000 came to pay him their respects, leaving mounts of flowers.
On Friday, Armistice Day, he proceeded to Arlington National Cemetery. Among those in the procession was a group of soldiers who had received the Medal of Honor, and a group of Gold Star Mothers, who had lost sons in battle.
After speeches and prayers, church bells rang out the noon hour, signaling for two minutes of nationwide silence. President Harding then spoke to the nation, his words transmitted electrically for the first time to New York, Chicago, and San Francisco.
Before the Unknown could finally rest in peace, he received awards. From the United States, he received the nation’s highest honors for military service: the Distinguished Service Cross and the Medal of Honor. He also received the Belgian Croix de Guerre, the Victoria Cross of Great Britain, the French Croix de Guerre with Palm, the Italian gold medal for bravery, the Romanian Virtute Militară, the Czechoslovak War Cross, and the Polish Virtuti Militari.
The Unknown Soldier is Unknown But to God. He died one hundred years ago.