Back In Time: A Historic Western Time Travel Romance (An Oregon Trail Time Travel Romance Book 3)

by Susan Leigh Carlton

  “Mrs. Thornton, would you and your husband consider flying out here? At the station’s expense of course.”

  “Toward what end?” she asked.

  “I thought we might unravel some of the mystery. The Oregon State Medical Examiner said that since the remains had been in the ground over ninety years, and no sign of foul play, there will be no criminal investigation and the case is closed. A ruling has been issued allowing the school district to resume construction. A source informed us a plea for relief was submitted by the City. It was granted, and construction can now proceed, provided the remains are buried in the original location and the site preserved and protected.”

  “Mr. Griffith, I have a fellow teacher knowledgeable in genealogy. I would like to talk to her about the time in question, and see what she suggests. After I talk to her, and discuss this with my husband, I will contact you again. I’m not going to drop this.”

  “Good for you. A lot of interest was aroused when this first came to light. I’m sure it will continue to be of interest. I admit this not totally altruistic on the station’s part, but we are all intrigued."

  Chapter four

  Genealogy

  Teacher’s Lounge…

  “Sarah, I’d like to find something about a person who lived in a certain place at a certain time,” Allie said.

  “Genealogy is fascinating. If you’re not careful, you’ll get addicted. For two years, I spent all of my spare time chasing ancestors.”

  “How do you get started? I don’t have a lot of information to go on, not even a last name,” Allie said.

  “Thanks to the LDS missionaries, it’s a lot easier than it sounds. “You’ve seen these young men dressed in black pants and white shirts?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “They are LDS missionaries. They have recorded the records in every county courthouse in the country.”

  “I’m not LDS,” Allie said.

  “You don’t have to be. Their information is open to everyone. I’ll go to their local library with you. Which part of the country are you interested in searching?”

  “Salem, Oregon,” Allie replied.

  “We can go this Saturday, if you like,” Sarah said. “There is a ton of this stuff online. Try your hand at searching the files of the county appraisal district. Some of what you’re looking for might be there.”

  LDS Library, Brevard…

  “I never knew this existed,” Allie told Sarah.

  “If you had been doing genealogy you would have known. If they don’t have what you’re looking for, they can order it from Salt Lake. You aren’t allowed to take it out of the building, but they keep it for about six weeks. It really doesn’t cost much.”

  “I came up with a family name from the Marion County Appraisal District. There were two large farms belonging to Lewis families that owned the land where the new school is being built.”

  “It was probably a family cemetery and there won’t likely be a record of it.”

  “Wouldn’t they have recorded it if it was moved?” Allie asked.

  “You’re right. I didn’t think of that,” Sarah said. Let’s start with the census records. Didn’t you say the grave had been there ninety years or so?”

  “That’s what the TV station told me.”

  “Then let’s start with the 1940 Census.”

  Sarah opened the 1940 Census index for Marion County, Oregon. “There several Lewis families,” she pointed out. The different census years have more and more information. Hiram Lewis lives on the same farm he did in 1930. His father was born in Ohio, his mother in Missouri. He was born in Oregon.” The 1930 Census showed the same, except for two young children in the house.

  “This is different,” Sarah said, viewing the 1920 index. “It shows Hiram’s father, Jedadiah, born in Ohio. He was seventy two, and his mother, Angela, born in Missouri and seventy years old.”

  “That’s her!” Allie said. “That’s my Angela.” In her excitement, she had raised her voice, and drawn the attention of other patrons.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “We just found a long lost family member.” Familiar with the feeling, several of the patrons smiled.

  The 1900 and 1910 census records showed no new information. “The 1890 Census was almost completely destroyed by fire,” Sarah told her. The 1880 Census showed Jedadiah and Angela with four children… Hiram, Alexandra, Sophronia and Jedadiah. The adjacent farm had a Hiram Lewis and Sophronia. The 1870 census reiterated the same information except Hiram was the only child.

  “The picture is clearing up now. One of the children is named for his father and another for his grandfather. The youngest of the girls is named after her paternal grandmother and the oldest is named for her…”

  “Maternal grandmother,” Allie said, tears streaking down her cheeks, leaving tracks in her makeup.

  “Let’s get something to drink,” Sarah said, leading Allie out of the door.

  They went down the street to a small café. Once they were seated, Sarah tried to reason with Allie. “What you are suggesting is impossible. This is one hundred and thirty-six years ago.”

  “I know that. No trace was ever found. Not one thread. I think she went back in time.”

  “That is not possible,” Sarah said, flatly.

  “Steven Hawking and Einstein both said there is no scientific reason why time travel is not possible. Einstein also said time is not linear, but curved. The astronauts in the space station age slower than people do on earth.”

  “Now you sound like a physics teacher.”

  “I am, or will be next semester,” Allie said. “What do you suggest I do next?”

  “You could look at land records and might be able to learn more about the families. I just thought of a better idea. Let’s ask the docent.”

  “I know the information is in the National Archives, and there is one in Kansas City,” the volunteer told them. “You can access them online and order copies of the records you need.”

  “Are they as helpful as you are?” Allie asked.

  “I doubt it. They are a government entity,” the docent said, with a laugh. “Let me look in our system and see what we have. In which state and county are you searching?”

  “Marion County, Oregon,” Allie said.

  An hour later they made copies of Donation Act Land Grants for Hiram, Sophie, and Jedadiah Lewis. “Is that microfilm of the actual application?” Allie asked.

  “This is the digital information. I would have to order the film. It takes about seven days and has a fee of five dollars,” the docent told her.

  “Would you order it for me please?”

  On the way home…

  “That was very productive,” Allie said. “I can’t believe we found all of that in one day.”

  “It’s a lot easier now they have most of it online. You can see why the census is only taken every ten years. That was a lot of writing, and the enumerators didn’t have cars to go from place to place either.

  “I am concerned about one thing though. You don’t actually believe your daughter went back in time do you?”

  “I do now,” Allie said.

  “I wouldn’t go spreading it around if I were you. A lot of people might think you’re losing it.”

  “You’re probably right,” Allie said. “Barry will be the only one I tell what we found.”

  A week later, Allie called the Family History Center and was told the microfilm she had requested was in, and would be held for three weeks.

  The docent helped her load the microfilm in the reader. “It isn’t indexed, so now it becomes a matter of scrolling through and finding what you’re looking for. I believe you said Marion County?”

  “Yes. Salem is the county seat,” Allie said.

  “Then you should only need to scroll through Marion County records, unless there was a split and a new county was formed. If you don’t find what you’re looking for, I would recommend going through the entire state for that time period. If y
ou find anything you want to copy, push the print button. It will come out on the printer in the corner. You won’t have much competition for the printer this morning since it’s a little early for most people. Your only cost will be ten cents for each page printed.”

  The first of the records was on the screen. The location and section numbers of the claims were included on the forms. One signature was a beautiful scroll, Sophronia Lewis, while those of the others were scrawls but legible. There were several records. She pushed the print button for each of them.

  “Mrs. Thornton?” The docent had come back.

  “Yes?”

  “These people probably traveled the Oregon Trail and decided to settle in the Willamette Valley. It’s our experience that families migrating together stayed together in the new location, remaining as neighbors. I would suggest you look at other records in the same area. You will be able to see who their neighbors are and were back home.”

  “Good idea,” Allie said. “You can see I’m an amateur at this.”

  “We all were at one time or another,” the docent replied.

  “Oh my God.” She felt her heart speed up. She fanned herself with her hand.

  “Did you find something?” the docent asked.

  “I did. What do you make of this?” She pointed to another claim.

  “Genealogy is like detective work. You find information and sometimes it gives you a clue and another step to take. I would guess what happened is this man, Jedadiah married and his new wife filed a claim on her own behalf. My next step would be to look at the marriage records for this same time period. It may or may not have been recorded, but it is certainly worth a try.”

  Chapter five

  Proof

  She found it in the United Methodist Church marriage records. The entry in the church marriage book for 1867 by the Reverend Thomas Stovall, recorded the marriage of Jedadiah Lewis to Angela Thornton. Witnesses were Hiram and Sophronia Lewis. It’s her. I found Angie. It is all I need. Now I can tell Barry. She printed the record.

  * * *

  “You’ve been crying,” her husband said, when she entered the barn. “What happened?”

  “I found her. I found Angela.”

  “What do you mean you found her?” he asked. “Where is she?”

  “She’s dead now, but she didn’t die in the flood,” Allie said.

  “You’re not making sense. Maybe you’d better lie down,” he said.

  “Come in the house and I’ll show you.”

  She laid the papers on the dining table, and arranged them. He started to pick one of them up.

  “Wait, don’t look at it. Let me tell you about it in my own way. Remember the Facebook post I showed you?”

  He nodded.

  “I called the TV station that had reported it, and spoke to the reporter and their news director. He asked me some questions. Do you remember the solar charger she bought on Amazon? It was found in the coffin with the iPhone. They asked about the color of her hair. After I had told him everything, he said two farmers had sold the land for the school to the school district. A family named Lewis had owned them. There was a family cemetery that had to be relocated before the construction began. Apparently they missed one of the graves.

  “I asked Sarah how to go about finding out more about the family, so we went to the LDS Family History Center. We found homesteads for Hiram Lewis and his wife. There was one for Jedadiah, who was apparently his son. A few months later, there was one for Angela Lewis. The docent suggested she and Jedadiah had gotten married, making her eligible for a section. Today, I went back and looked at the Marion County, Oregon marriage records. In late 1866, there was a record of Angela Thornton being married to Jedadiah Lewis in the United Methodist Church in Salem. His parents were witnesses.”

  “How do you know it was her?” Barry asked. It’s impossible.”

  “I want to show you something. I’ll be right back.” She left the room and returned with a paper. “This is a term paper from her senior year. Look at the writing. It’s the same. The curlicues, the small circles for dots over the ‘I’s’ and everything. In the 1870 Census, she and Jedadiah are living on the farm next to his parents. There is a son named Hiram, after his grandfather.

  “In the 1880 Census, there are four children in the family. Hiram, Alexandra, Sophronia, and Jedadiah. She named her first daughter after me.” She choked up, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “She’s in the 1920 Census but not 1930. The time frame by the forensics lab puts her burial around 1925.

  “The news director of the television station would like for us to come out there at their expense. I think they want to do a follow-up story. What do you think? I told him I would call him back.”

  “I’ve got to digest all of this,” Barry said. “I’m sort of overwhelmed by it.”

  “Scientists have said there’s no reason why time travel can’t be done, they just have to find a way. I would like to go out there, to see where she lived, what it’s like.”

  “Call him back, and tell him we’re coming,” Barry said. “It’s time we took a vacation anyway. I’ll get someone to take care of things while we’re gone.”

  * * *

  “Mr. Griffith, I’m curious why your station would go to this expense,” Allie said to the news director when she called.

  “The story went viral after it aired,” he said. “We received more mail and calls about this than any story we’ve ever done. The network picked it up and ran it, and will bear any expenses. We see it as something we would air during our Marion County Heritage Week celebration. This is a weeklong celebration of the people that had the courage to take on something like the hardships of the Oregon Trail. Apropos of nothing, did you know that one in ten people that attempted it died? And, it’s estimated that over 400,000 made it. The ruts from their wagon wheels are still visible.”

  “I had no idea,” Allie said. “When would you like for us to come. We have to arrange for someone to take care of our dairy farm.”

  “It will take me two weeks or more to lay out a plan, and I’ll call you. Haynes Falls was settled by people that came over the trail, and one of the first families that settled in the Silver Rock Creek area was the Lewis family. We have a festival every year and I’d kind of like to put it in with that.”

  “Is there anything in particular you would like for me to look at? I now have census records, homestead claims and marriage records.”

  “You think you can tie it together?”

  “I do. It’s pretty unbelievable, but I’m convinced, and I’ve turned my husband into a believer. By the way, he has the receipt from the purchase of the phone. If you can get the serial number, we can match it against the one on the receipt.”

  “I don’t have it,” Griffith said, “but I can get it from the historical society.”

  Two days later…

  “Cal Griffith here, Mrs. Thornton. I have the serial number. Can we compare them now?”

  “Mr. Griffith, I have an idea. If you hold on, I’ll get our receipt and read the number, and you compare it with what you have.”

  “Excellent idea,” he said.

  After she read the eleven characters, he said, “They match. It is the same phone. When was it purchased?”

  “December 20, 2014. It was her Christmas present from her dad.”

  Chapter six

  A Trip West

  The Thornton’s flew to Seattle’s SEA-TAC airport, and transferred to a regional jet for the short flight to Salem.

  They approached the man holding a Thornton sign. “I’m Barry Thornton and this is my wife, Alexandra.”

  “Miles Pierce from KNHF. I spoke with Mrs. Thornton on the phone. Welcome to Salem and to Oregon. We have reservations for you at a suite hotel in Haynes Falls.”

  “Is there a car rental agency in Haynes Falls?” Barry asked.

  “Indeed there is,” Pierce said.

  “Do you have a schedule for us?” Allie asked.
>
  “Yes. We have a meeting with the station manager and Mr. Griffith tomorrow morning. We thought you might want to rest up or maybe do a little sightseeing this afternoon. I’m free to show you around, if you like.”

  “We would like that,” Barry said.

  “I would like to see where my daughter is buried,” Allie said.

  Pierce was nonplussed at the statement. “The state forensics department hasn’t confirmed the identity.”

  “Has she been reburied?” Allie asked.

  “I believe the remains are still in the possession of the medical examiner’s office.”

  “Then we should be able to resolve the identity with DNA testing. Where is the medical examiner’s office?”

  “It’s here in Salem,” Pierce replied.

  “Why don’t we go there first, and have them take our DNA swabs.”

  “I’m not sure the station manager would approve of doing it that way.”

  Barry started to say something, but Allie shushed him. “Mr. Pierce,” she said. “We didn’t use the reservations you made. We anticipated something like this might happen, so we paid for our tickets and made our own reservations. If you would be so kind as to let us out of the car, we will get our own transportation and do this our way. You can tell your station manager we will talk with Mr. Griffith, at our convenience, and he doesn’t need to get involved.”

  “Mrs. Thornton, I’m sorry if I offended you. I certainly didn’t intend to, and I apologize. I will be more than happy to drive you to the ME’s office. It might take a court order to get them to do the DNA testing, though. I simply thought it might make things easier with the station manager’s involvement. I do have a friend in their office so why don’t we go over now and find out what it will take, and go from there?”

  “That sounds like a good idea and I apologize for my outburst. We’ve waited a long time, thinking our daughter had drowned and I firmly believe I can convince you and whoever else, the phone is Angie’s and was purchased by my husband.”