“This is beyond strange,” Julia said. “We have some things that go way back in time. Roy’s grandmother’s Bible has quite a few births and deaths recorded. Chances are your daughter’s name is in it. I don’t understand how it could be though. The grave has been there for over ninety years.
“I just heard Roy’s truck. He’ll be coming right in.
Chapter nine
Sophie’s Journal
“I see we have company,” the lanky sun-darkened man said when he came into the living room. “I’m Roy Lewis. I belong to her.
Barry stood. “Barry Thornton, this is my wife Alexandra.” They shook hands.
“Just call me Allie.”
“My grandmother was Alexandra and her grandmother was too,” Roy said.
“Honey, they’re from Missouri, and they’re here about the grave at the new school.”
“We figure she’s one of our family, but just don’t know her name,” Roy said.
“Angela. Her name was Angela, and she was our daughter.”
“Begging your pardon Allie, you don’t look old enough to have a daughter that died in 1925 or thereabouts.”
“Roy!” his wife admonished.
“The Medical Examiner’s Office took our DNA yesterday and it’s a perfect match. I don’t know when they’ll release the information though. We were invited out here by KNHF, but we came on our own. After seeing their story on Facebook, I compiled enough information to prove it to our satisfaction. We don’t know how it happened. Do you know much about your family history?”
“Some. I know they came on the Oregon Trail from Ohio and claimed this land through the Land Donation Act.”
“Can we sit at a table? I have some papers to show you.” Allie took several papers out of the folder she was carrying and spread them on the table. “I know a little about the Oregon Trail and your family as well. The Trail passed through our farm in Missouri. These are copies of Jedadiah’s, and Angela’s homestead claims. They’re copies from microfilms of court records. One is signed by Angela Lewis, our daughter. She was married to Jedadiah Lewis the same day. Here’s a copy of the church log recording the marriage by a Reverend Stovall.”
She handed him the census record copies. “Those are US Census records beginning in 1870 and going through 1940. You’ll see Angie and Jedadiah are both there through 1920 and missing in 1930, so they both died in that ten year span.
“In 1870, there’s just the husband and wife. On the next farm over, it’s his parents. Now, look at 1880. There were four children in the family, Hiram, named for his grandfather, Alexandra, named for me, Sophronia for her other grandmother, and Jedadiah.
“We know it’s her, but we don’t know how it’s possible. The ME said the DNA is 100% proof.”
Roy pointed to the 1870 census. “They were the emigrants, and he’s their son. His sister lived on the next farm in the other direction. I’m a member of the Sons and Daughters of Oregon Pioneers, by the way. It dates back to the 1870’s.
“A lot of the women that came west on the Trail kept a diary. Great-Great-Great-Grandmother Lewis was one of them.”
“Is it still in existence?” Allie asked.
“It is. Grandmother gave it to the museum on permanent loan.”
“Where is the museum?” she asked.
“Honey, stop teasing her, Julia said. “Allie, we have a transcript of the journal the museum made and gave to us. We had it bound. I’ll get it.” She went to a bookcase against the wall and took out a brown, leather bound book and handed it to Allie. Embossed in gold leaf, it said, “Sophie’s Journal.”
“It’s beautiful,” Allie said. “Do you mind if I look through it?”
“Of course not,” Roy said. “We would be disappointed if you didn’t. I haven’t read all of it, but I did read some. It begins in Steubenville, Ohio, and goes through the entire trip. She used several notebooks. After they settled here the entries fall off. You won’t believe what they went through to get here. They left Ohio in March, 1866 and the claims you have, tell us when they got here some six months later.”
“So you believe she is our daughter?” Allie asked.
“You’ve made a pretty convincing argument,” Roy said. “Maybe this can tell us some more. I am more than interested in what we might find. I’m embarrassed that I haven’t read it completely. Why don’t you move to the sofa, you’ll be more comfortable there.”
“I can’t believe what they went through. They told us at the TV station that one in ten died along the way,” Allie said.
“She mentions passing graves in quite a few places,” Roy said. “When I read it, I was more interested in Indian scalping and raids than anything else. There wasn’t much of that at all.”
After forty-five minutes, and paging ahead, Allie said, “They’re in Independence. There’s no mention of Brevard.
She opened her iPad. “Do you have Wi-Fi?” she asked.
“We do,” Julia said, and gave her the password.
“Brevard isn’t mentioned because it didn’t exist then,” Allie said. She continued reading. “I think this is it,” she said. “Listen…” She began reading, “Jeremy Scoggins found a girl in a tree along the creek. Hiram and Chester helped get her down. She said they were caught in a flash flood and washed away. Her parents must have drowned, and the tree saved her. She was wearing strange clothes. We’ll have to find something else for her. Some won’t tolerate her wearing pants. There’s been no rain in over a week. Her name is Angela Thornton and she said she’s from Brevard, near Independence. No one remembers the Brevard name. She will ride in the Gilley wagon to help Polly until we meet someone going the other way to take her back to Independence.”
“Gilley was in the census in the next farm. They must have traveled together.”
Her eyes brimming with tears, Allie said, “Oh dear God, for the rest of her life she thought we had drowned.”
A few pages over, she said, “Sophie’s daughter, Mandy, fell in a river and Angie saved her life. Those two summers she spent as a lifeguard paid off.”
“She must have been quite a girl,” Julia said.
“She was Daddy’s girl,” Barry agreed.
“How long are you going to be in town?” Roy asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Barry said. The station wants to record some interviews about what we’ve found and done. If they haven’t already, they will probably ask to interview you. We won’t suggest it to them if you don’t want us to, but it would be nice since I believe we’re related in a weird, distant way.”
“Why don’t you stay with us while you’re here?” Julia asked.
“We can’t do that. It would be a big imposition,” Allie replied.
“I have an idea. Why don’t I come into town tomorrow and go to the museum and ask them to print off a copy of the journal for you. I’m sure it’s in their database.”
“That would be wonderful,” Allie said. “I don’t have any idea when the TV station will want us, and we do need to get back to our farm. I’m a teacher and have to get back to school.”
“What do you teach?” Roy asked.
“Physics and geometry.”
“You’re out of my league,” he said. “If it were plowing a straight furrow, we’d have something to talk about.”
“I’m with you,” Barry said. “She speaks a different language from the one I speak.”
“This had been one of my most rewarding days in recent years,” Allie said.
“For us too,” Roy said. “We’ve identified a relative and will be able to put her back to rest, and we’ve found new ones. Tell the TV station we’ll be glad to participate.”
The women hugged and the men shook hands. “I’ll see you in the morning and we can go to the museum,” Julia said.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Allie said.
Chapter Ten
The Museum
The message light was flashing on the telephone when they returned to the hotel. Barry picked
it up and punched the button for the operator.
“Miles wants us to call. You talk to him,” Barry said.
She dialed the number. “It’s Allie Thornton, you wanted us to call?”
“Yes. How did your day go?” he asked.
“Wonderful. They are very nice people. We found some more information. Have you heard of an organization called the Sons and Daughters of Oregon Pioneers?” she asked.
“I have, why?”
“Roy Lewis is a member. I would like for you to not say anything about this next piece of information. Can you do that?”
“Is it all right if I say an unnamed source?” he asked.
“No that won’t do it,” she said. “You’ll get it eventually and the wait will be worth it,” she said.
“Okay, it’s off the record. I won’t reveal it until you say so.”
“Did you know a lot of women kept journals about their daily activities on the Trail?”
“Are you going to tell me one of his relatives did that?” he asked.
“She did. His grandmother loaned it to a museum. I saw a transcript. Angie is mentioned in it. A little boy found her lodged in a tree, and got the original Hiram Lewis and another man to help get her down. The wagon train took her in and that’s how she got here. She told them her name and that she was from Brevard, which didn’t exist at the time. She rode in someone else’s wagon in exchange for helping the wife. I haven’t read all of it, but I will.
“Julia Lewis and I are going to the museum tomorrow. It all has fallen into place now. Oh, one more thing, Roy Lewis said they will be happy to be interviewed for the program, but you should call them.”
“Would you mind if I bring a cameraman and record the trip to the museum?”
“I would mind,” she said. “This is mine and Julia’s time. They even invited us to stay with them while we’re here, but I don’t think we will do that.
“By the way, we would like to have some type of schedule. We will be needing to get back to the farm.”
At the museum
Julia and Allie went to the curator of the Oregon Pioneer Museum’s office. After introducing Allie, and Barry, she said, “Mr. Fremont, I would like to get a copy of the transcript of the Sophronia Lewis Journals for Mrs. Thornton, please. She’s researching the family history. We’ll pay for the printing costs. If you could also give us a digital copy, it would help.”
“How soon would you need it?” the stocky curator asked.
“They’re visiting from Missouri and would like to take it with them when they return home, if possible.”
“I think we can do that,” he said. “Have you uncovered any more artifacts?”
“I’m sorry to say we haven’t, but the identification of the person in the coffin has been confirmed. It isn’t officially announced, but she has been identified.”
His gray eyes lit up. “Can you share the information. I will keep it confidential, of course.”
“Her name is Angela Thornton from Independence, Missouri,” Julia said.
“Ah, one of your ancestors?” he asked Allie.
“Yes sir.”
“We will be pleased to help, and with your permission, we will add you to our database as a contributor,” Fremont said. “Will you have time to view our exhibits today?”
“We will. Julia has been kind enough to offer to show us around,” Allie said.
“Then I shall get busy on your request while you look around. Let me know if I can be of further assistance.” He adjusted the thick lens glasses he wore and excused himself.
The exhibits in the museum highlighted the difficulties the emigrants had encountered on the trail. One of the many paintings showed a log raft ferrying a wagon and oxen across the North Platte River.
Julia opened the copy of “Sophie’s Journal” and turned to the entry where Mandy Lewis fell into the river and Angela rescued her. “This is the same river crossing in the picture.”
“I wonder if taking pictures of the paintings is permissible,” Allie said. She went to the research desk and asked. It was allowed, and she began using her iPhone camera to do so.
“This is just so hard to imagine,” she told Julia, as they looked inside the covered wagon exhibit and its contents. The information sign described the daily life of the pioneer women, beginning around four in the morning and continuing until after the dinner meal.”
Barry was quiet as he looked at most of the exhibits. “I can’t imagine Angela enduring what she did,” he said. “She must have walked at least two thousand miles in four or five months. It makes me so proud of her, and at the same time, absolutely breaks my heart thinking of what she went through.”
After three hours, Julia said, “We’ve covered just about everything there is to see. Let’s check to see if they have your copy of the journals ready.”
The curator gave Allie a thumb drive with the digital copy and a printout. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a punch capable of punching holes in the paper or I would have done so. OfficeMax offers that service though, and it isn’t very expensive.”
“Thank you, Mr. Freemont. I can’t begin to tell you how much we appreciate this. Where do we pay for this?” Allie asked.
“The research desk can take care of it,” he said. “Will you be visiting again before you leave?”
“We hope to, there is just too much to take in during one visit.”
“Mrs. Lewis, it’s always nice to see you. Give my regards to Roy,” Freemont said.
After they left, Allie said, “I may be up all night reading this.”
Chapter eleven
Time to Go
KNHF Television Studios…
The interviews had been conducted by Miles Pierce and were finished. “Good job, everyone,” Jim Cassell said.
“What happens next?” Barry asked.
“Next, it goes through the editing process. If any retakes are needed, we’ll get them done. We’re setting our target date for the Pioneer Days Festival the middle of September. We’ll run some teaser promos from our earlier footage to build interest. We will sell the program to our network based on the success of the show you saw on Facebook. The network will probably show a clip on the evening news on the air date.
“If we need any retakes with you two, we’ll fly you out again and shoot them. You will know the date as soon as it’s finalized. I don’t think that will be necessary because it looks good. It is going to be the best show I’ve ever done.”
“It’s been a good experience for us and we thank you for your efforts.”
“If you don’t mind, and have the time, could you stop by my office before you leave town,” Cal Griffith asked.
“Would now be convenient for you?” Barry asked. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning and we’re having dinner with Julia and Roy tonight.”
“Now is fine. Ten minutes?”
Cal Griffith’s Office…
“Mrs. Thornton, Barry, I just wanted a few minutes of your time to offer some professional advice. This is going to be big, a lot bigger than you imagine. It isn’t going to be a spectacle, but it is going to attract a lot of attention.
“I’m in this small market by choice, but I’ve been in the business a long time, and have a pretty good eye for a good story. I wouldn’t be surprised to see you contacted for the rights to your story. My advice is this. If it does happen, don’t negotiate with them yourself. They will eat you alive. I’m going to give you the names of a couple of good, reputable talent agents. They won’t let you get cheated.”
“I’m stunned by this,” Allie said. “I don’t know what to say. It certainly isn’t what anything I expected.”
Griffith took a small book from his desk drawer and wrote two names on a 3”x5” card. “Either of them will do a good job for you. Use my name if you contact them. They’ll call me and I’ll verify the story. This has been a genuine pleasure. You’re fine people and it has been a privilege working with you.”
“Thank you, Cal,�
� Barry said. “We’ve certainly learned a lot.” They shook hands.
Allie didn’t settle for a handshake. She hugged him. “Thank you for everything.”
Miles, Julia and Roy Lewis were at the airport to see them off.
When the Embraer Jet lifted off the runway at the Salem Municipal Airport, Allie was holding her husband’s hand. “This has been quite an experience, hasn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, it has. I don’t know whether there is such a thing as closure, but I feel better knowing Angie had a full life.”
“I do too,” Allie said. “Do you realize we’re grandparents?”
“We are, aren’t we?”
Thirty minutes later, the pilot announced they had been cleared to land at Sea-Tac International in Seattle.
* * *
The show was titled “Angie’s Story” and aired September 14. The next morning, Allie received a phone call from Miles Pierce. “We killed them,” he said. “It was the highest share in the history of the station. Ralph Knox is preening around here like he’s the king of the hill, and in a way, I guess he is. Cal is content to let him have the credit, but everyone knows better. We will be rerunning it, probably several times. Congratulations on a job well done.
“By the way, Cal asked me to find out if it would be okay to give out your telephone number. I think several shows would like to have you as guests.”
“I don’t know, about those shows. It’s not who we are,” she said. “We had several people over to watch it with us and they seemed to like it. I plan to call Julia to find out what they thought.”
“You realize your telephone number is easily found, even if it is unlisted.”
“I guess you’re right. I don’t mind, but won’t promise anything about the shows.”
“Cal also said for me to remind you about the names he gave you. I suppose you know what he’s talking about.”
“I do, and thank him for me. Miles, I’ve got another call coming in. Thanks for calling me and we’ll be in touch. If you need us for anything, call on our cell number. We may let this phone go to the recorder.”
Back In Time: A Historic Western Time Travel Romance (An Oregon Trail Time Travel Romance Book 3) Page 5