Settler's Prairie
A Family Triumphs Over Tragedy
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
There was a roar coming from somewhere above him, but he could not quite locate it. He thought he could hear words, but he wasn’t sure of that. For a moment he was too terrified to do anything but lie where he was as though frozen to the dock. The last thing he remembered was that two men had pulled him into this narrow alleyway. He was not aware that all activity around him stopped, and men who had been minding their own business, turned to watch the scene they expected to unfold at any moment. He remembered a blinding flash and a major headache. The next thing Eddy Foster was aware of was strong arms lifting his crumpled body from the morgue like boards where he lay in a semi fetal position. "Lad, can ye hear me?" The voice had lowered a decibel or two, but there was still enough volume to rattle the timbers of the dock. Eddy groaned, and squinted in the direction of the noise. "I asked are ye hurt bad?" The voice seemed to ricochet from one of Eddy’s ears to the other, and rattle the ear bones between. "Uh...I...uh...don't... know," Eddy mumbled, "my head hurts" somethin’...awful. He raised his right hand and carefully explored a large lump behind his left ear. He saw a light patch of blood on his hand. There was a bench with shade where Eddy felt himself lowered, and he was able to look at his rescuer. He wasn’t sure this giant-man with large sinewy arms and a black beard could be trusted, but he remembered his tenderness as he had lifted him from the dock. For a long moment neither of them spoke. "Do ye think ye kin walk naow?" The bearded giant asked. "I think so," Eddy replied. "Well come along then and I’ll git ye acquainted with the cook on me scow." As the bearded monster walked, he introduced himself. "I'm Shamus O’Bryan, and I been pushin’ me barge up and down this canal all me life. Me auld father was the Cap’n before me. Me men call me Cap’n to me face...what they call me behind me back is no concern of mine." There was the loudest guffaw Eddy Foster had ever heard. The Cap’n stopped beside a crane that was loading lumber on a nondescript barge by swinging it over the flatboat and lowering it to the hold. He abruptly turned to Eddy who was trying to catch his breath. "Ye got to have a name, Lad. What is it?" "I’m...breath...Eddy...breath...Foster." Eddy was exhausted, and his doubts that he wanted to cast his lot with this giant were overwhelming as he meekly followed the Captain aboard the barge. "Where're ye from?" O'Bryan roared. Eddy hesitated. "Speak up, lad, I asked ye where're ye from?" "Ver...Vermont." Eddy hoped he spoke loud enough. "Cap'n," Eddy hesitated. His voice was barely a whisper. "Cap'n," he tried to speak, but there was no sound. O’Bryan ignored him. "Joe, I want ye to meet yer new helper," he boomed. "This here’s a lad who thinks he can be yer pot licker. Come out and look him over." At first glance Eddy thought this fat bellied man with the greasy apron that had once been white, wore a constant sneer, but as he approached, he could see a scar that cut across his left eyebrow down his left cheek to the corner of his mouth. The cook was wiping his hands on a corner of the already dirty apron.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
Homesteaders, Settlers, Squatters, Nesters and dupes were names applied to the streams of seekers for new land, new opportunity, and new life on the plains of "The Great American Desert." Ed and Chloe Foster joined the westward trek with their four children in a covered wagon, a team of horses and a plow. They filed for their 160 acres of dry land with bright hopes for a new life of independence and community stature. Instead they faced blizzards in winter, drought in summer, hailstorms and fires that occasionally swept across the prairie. They were often near giving up and returning to their former home, but they stayed and survived. Chloe Merty Foster came from a moderately wealthy family living in Chicago. Ed was born in Vermont. From that background they both became "hardy pioneers." Not that they survived, but how they lived through and triumphed over hardships make them worthy of our tribute.
About the Author
Robert Connerly was the youngest child in a family of seven. Until the age of fourteen the family farmed on irrigated farms in northeastern Colorado. At an early age The Connerly children were put to work in the beet fields and in tending livestock. There were many experiences similar to those described in "Settlers’ Prairie." Traditions of early day homesteading and survival on the prairie were discussed freely in first hand accounts of uncles, aunts and grandparents who were homesteaders before irrigation came to the region. Connerly served four years in the Army during WW II with two and a half years service in the Pacific arena. After that experience he completed his education and earned a Doctorate degree in the field of Education. He careered in education and retired as a School Psychologist after thirty-seven years.