by Jim Wetton
The door knocked again and Elgin peeked in. “He’s getting a bit anxious, sir.”
“One more minute, Elgin, please.”
Elgin responded by closing the door.
“I agree, Lizzy. I hope you believe me. I agree, completely agree.” Roosevelt went over to Lizzy and sat next to her. He held her hands in his. They knew their affection wasn’t romantic and it never would be. Their closeness was purely platonic, yet he felt like he’d hurt her by his request.
“How about you helping me to get reelected on my own merits and once that is done, no one will be able to stop us from getting that vote to all women, and maybe, between you and me, we can write an amendment in the Constitution announcing who the real author should be. Deal?”
They hugged and Roosevelt wiped a tear from Lizzy’s face. Just as they broke from their friendly embrace, Elgin was at the door again, this time followed by the largest man Lizzy had ever seen.
“Senator Aldin, it is so good to see you. So sorry, chap, for having you wait; come on in.”
Lizzy smiled at the politics inside the room. She bent down to retrieve her purse and with one glance over to Roosevelt, she bid him good day. It was a wink. She needed nothing more.
* * * *
Lizzy stopped and hailed for a hack. She’d left Nellie and Henry’s home and it being such a splendid afternoon, she had tried to walk to her home. She made it about halfway and then realized that her ambitions were stronger than her ability. The driver helped her in and as she sat back, she felt that odd pain again. She tried to think if it was from being out of breath. No, it’d happened before with no activity at all. She quit trying to figure out what it was that caused such pain. Just getting old, Lizzy. Just getting old.
As the hack jolted forward, she leaned her head back to rest and closed her eyes. She thought of that first talk that she and Roosevelt had inside the Oval Office. It had been almost four years ago to the day. Roosevelt did win re-election and this time it was on his own merits. Lizzy liked to think that she had a lot to do with it because of how much she used his name and his support when speaking at the various suffragist lectures.
She smiled in retrospect with her eyes still closed because what he wanted to do, what he talked to her about almost four years ago in that Oval Office, did happen or was in the process of happening.
Roosevelt did taper back on the big companies. He did put several regulations into effect that controlled companies while protecting the little guys. He was able to take over the Panama Canal project and he was in the process of forming peace talks between Russia and Japan.
Lizzy’s ability to speak honestly to various groups, clubs and large venues helped to show that President Roosevelt was a progressive and a forward thinker. She never shied away from telling her audience that he was for the rights of all women. The whole idea of her speaking for Roosevelt felt bittersweet to her as she sat in the rickety hack. She may have spread the word about the new president. She may have endorsed him, spoken highly of him and convinced others that he would make a difference. But on this late afternoon in 1905, she, along with all women in the country didn’t get the chance to vote for or against him.
Still have a long way to go, Hannah, a long way to go.
* * * *
When the hack driver helped her down, she paid him and started up the walk to her front door. It was dark by now. A slight breeze blew through the leaves on the trees. A dog barked in the distance.
Lizzy’s pace was slow. She was tired. She was sixty-one years old. News that Susan Anthony was in poor health troubled her. She’d lost Elizabeth Stanton in ’02 and as she walked towards the porch, she tried to think who all was left.
Lizzy chuckled. Moses is still around. Harriet Tubman at age eighty-three still corresponded with Lizzy and with each letter she continued to motivate her as well.
She paused at the first step and held on to the post. Her chest hurt as she tried to catch her breath. Yes, good ol’ Moses. She tried to take another step and her knees gave out. Trying in vain to hold on to the post, she fell. Her head hit the planks on the porch floor and when she finally came to rest, she was half on the porch and half in the holly bush.
She tried to open her eyes but one was sealed shut. She heard the dog bark again, but it seemed closer. As she lay there in the dark, she thought of how her turn would come. Not when, but how. She thought of Martin and James. She thought of Mary Elizabeth and then of Johnny Russell. So many gone.
“Ma’am, oh, dear God, ma’am, are you . . . ?”
Lizzy felt the strong hands of someone lifting her up and out of the holly bush. Once upright, she rubbed her hands over her face, felt her arms and legs and patted down her hair, more out of habit then necessity.
“Ma’am, you’ve got a pretty bad bump above your right eye. It’s already closed shut. Can I take you somewhere, call for someone?”
Lizzy tried to gain some form of understanding of what had just happened. She tried to focus on the young man’s face. She didn’t recognize his voice. She was starting to see with her left eye and, as she held on to the post again, turned towards him.
His curly blond hair flowed out of a blue cap he wore on his head. His face was littered with acne and his voice cracked every time he spoke out.
“Do I, uh, do I know you?” Lizzy stuttered.
“No ma’am, I don’t believe so,” the young man replied. “I deliver telegrams.”
“Telegrams?”
“Yes ma’am, telegrams. I have one for you, but I’ve got to make sure you’re all right first. Are you?”
Lizzy tried her best to focus in on the young man as he repeated himself.
“Are you?”
“Yes, of course I’m all right!” Lizzy’s short temper caused the young man to frown. “Just have a bump, that’s, uh, that’s all. Got to get rid of that damn holly bush though.”
The young man’s eyes tightened and focused in on Lizzy’s eyes.
“Oh, uh, I’m dreadfully sorry, young man; didn’t mean to swear.”
“Ma’am? Sure you’re OK?”
“Oh yes, just going to sit here awhile to catch my bearings. No hurry to go inside; it’s just me, you know.”
“I’m not leaving until you’re sure you’re going to be OK, you hear?”
“Oh, what a sweet boy you are.” Lizzy attempted a chuckle. “You say you have a telegram for me?”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied. “Normally I’d need for you to sign it, but I’m not going to fuss about that this time. I’ve delivered here before so I know who you are.”
“Oh well, thank you, son, but can you do me a favor before you leave?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Can you read what’s on the telegram for me? I think once inside, I’m just going to lie down and sleep so there’ll be no time to read, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, ma’am.” The young man ripped open the envelope and turned it towards the dim light of the moon. “Ma’am, there’s not much here, just a few words.”
“Just a few words?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He said, trying to focus on the type. “Looks like it’s from, uh, it looks like someone named, uh Carl? No, I think it says Caroline.”
“Oh, my daughter-in-law, Caroline; how nice,” Lizzy smiled groggily. “Please read on.”
“It’s so hard to read in this light, but I think it says. . . .
“Says what, young man, says what?”
“Come quick.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Memories on a Train
1906
Going up the eastern slopes of the Sierras was a thrill that Lizzy would never forget. There was not a soul on board that wasn’t glued to a window seat. Winter was over; at least that’s what some had said. By the looks outside her window, she was convinced that winter was still very much alive.
It had taken Lizzy a few weeks to recover from her fall. With a little help, she was able to se
nd a telegram to Caroline in California. All she’d put in it was that she was looking forward to a nice visit. The truth of the matter was that she was dying of curiosity trying to figure out what had caused Caroline to reach out the way she did.
Though she still felt the aches of her mishap, she recognized how fortunate she was to have someone so randomly stop by to deliver a telegram. The bruise above her eye had healed nicely and the cuts from the holly bush could barely be seen. Lizzy still scolded herself for not finding out the name of the young man who’d helped her. The whole ordeal occurred in only a matter of minutes, but to Lizzy the experience had been an eternity. At the time, she had no idea what the words in Caroline’s telegram meant and as she sat looking at the snow-covered Sierras, she still didn’t. All she could think of was that she knew it was a call for help. Lizzy’s maternal instincts took over; her daughter-in-law needed her and the next thing she knew, she was on a westbound train going to California.
Lizzy had never traveled this far west. She’d gone from Wheeling to Charleston and Charleston to Wheeling and so on and so forth. The thought of how many times they’d made that trip made her chuckle. Once they’d agreed to leave politics behind them, that’s when Lizzy made her first trip to New York City. She left bittersweet memories behind in New York City when she pulled up her family’s roots and moved to Washington, D.C. And that is where her seed was currently planted. The places they’d seen, the travels they had made brought a sense of warmth to Lizzy. Just seems like yesterday; never thought we’d move so much.
She busted out with a laugh at that last thought. What about all the traveling Papa took us on? Our little yesterdays seem to be filled to the brim with memories.
Lizzy’s smile was bittersweet. She gazed out the window and spotted a family of deer. The scene in front of her was filled with a sense of peaceful bliss until the whistle from the train caused the family to bolt. Oh, how sad. Lizzy frowned as she crooked her neck around in a feeble attempt to locate them again.
She rested back in her seat again. Another jolt from the train’s whistle caused her eyebrows to furrow in disgust. Thinking of the family of deer, she thought of her own family. Not her current family, but the family she belonged to years before. She thought of the days packing the wagon and saying goodbye to Grandpa Fez. Her smile reappeared. You had to stay in Independence, old man. Had to keep up with Momma’s gravesite. She smiled at the thought of how diligent Fez was at maintaining the Monroe gravesites. Momma’s and Abel’s.
Her mind wandered back to those very early years. So young yet pushed into years far ahead of her time. While most girls her age were starting to talk about boys, putting ribbons in their hair or convincing each other that they weren’t going to be the newest spinster in town, Lizzy was thrust into a life most women three times her age struggled with.
Never would give a second of it away, not a second.
She looked out her window. Watched the pines going by. Could see from all the snow that it must be cold. The sights surrounded her with beauty, but she was lost, surrounded in her own memories. In between the rattle of the tracks, the whistle from the train, or her own fogged recollection of the announcements yelled out by the conductor, Lizzy was lost in time, reliving every moment, every town and every person along the way.
As her mind raced, she cared less about chronological accuracies. She just wanted to absorb every single memory, good, bad, sad or indifferent. Her heart had opened up and at her ripe age of sixty-two, she wanted to relish in it for as long as it took.
Times of talking on a porch with her father while rain hit the tin roof. Times of racing Johnny Russell home from school. Times when they’d all wrestle and Lizzy would always be the one who was victorious. Yeah, Willie and Daniel did their best to make sure I always won, especially when Micah was involved. She thought of Micah. Her throat tightened just as it did that Christmas Eve when he surprised them all with his grand entrance.
Giving herself a comforting sigh, she recalled the other towns she’d lived in, starting with Independence, Missouri. To Lizzy, this town is where she changed from being a child to becoming a woman. It was there where she’d lost her mother and had to be strong for her family.
Saying their farewells in Independence was a hard thing for Lizzy to do. She’d been born and raised there. Although she was only nine when they left, she could still remember the names, faces and voices of everyone lined up next to their wagon. Pastor Higgins and his wife Sara. Homer Plunket and his wife Helen. The Simpsons, Herman, Rachael and Joshua. Doc Andersen and Sheriff Daniel. Oh, and then there was Patricia Steven. Lizzy laughed out loud at the memory, causing a mother to tug tightly to her two-year-old three seats in front of her.
The stories she was told about how her father had practically lived on the porch of the town’s diner made her want to continue laughing. “Best biscuits and gravy this side of the Mississippi,” he’d always tell her.
Lizzy had often asked herself who it was that had the hardest time leaving Independence: Her father or her.
It will always be our special town, Papa. Don’t you ever fret; plus, think about it, you and Momma can enjoy all the memories together again. She felt a tightness in her chest again. Getting too sentimental, Lizzy. Snap out of it.
“It was so hard to leave Grandpa Fez, but we had to move on.” It was only a whisper, but she felt like she was telling everyone around her how hard it was for her to make that first move.
Then it was Lecompton. Willie.
Then a small town called Fredericksburg. She breathed in hard at the thought. Papa wanted to give Johnny Russell and I some “Southern culture.” How’d that turn out? She shook her head sadly and stared out her window. The thought of the night that her father broke the news of Daniel’s death still bit her to the core. That’s when he decided to take us home.
Wheeling had always been home to Lizzy’s father and she knew it. That’s where he was born and raised. That’s where he learned the lessons of life from his grandfather, Jacob. That’s where the memories of Monroe Landing and the sweet memories of Jacob will always remain. That’s where her life really began until they all decided to leave it behind, for good.
Wonder if we’ll ever go back?
“Heading through Donner’s Pass. All passengers will have a one-hour break to stretch your legs!”
Lizzy, startled back to the present, turned from the window as a very large man waddled down the aisle barking monotone orders that must have been well scripted and recited hundreds of times prior to this particular train trip.
The conductor wore a deep blue coat over a white shirt with a dark red stain on its collar. His hat was two sizes too small and his pants looked to be a size too large by the way they bunched up in the back. He had a deep and loud intimidating tone to his voice and a full beard that was in need of a good trim. She didn’t know what was more terrifying, the man’s voice or the squeal of the train’s whistle.
As the train slowed to a stop, the conductor made one last announcement: “This stop will be for one hour only. One hour only! Exit at your leisure but at the sound of two long blows of the train’s whistle, kindly board the train or risk being left behind. We will maintain our schedule and there’ll be no stragglers!”
Lizzy managed to rise from her seat. The sound of steam coming from the engine not three cars in front of her was ear shattering. Shouts coming from the train employees on the landing made her have second thoughts of even attempting to disembark, even for just a few minutes. What if they left?
The more she thought of it, the bolder she became. Let’s take a look.
She held tight to the railing and took one step at a time. She dismissed the angry outburst from some drunken man far behind her yelling out about how someone should take charge so that all passengers are able to get some relief instead of being cooped up behind the old ladies on the train. I’m tempted to go even slower; that’ll show him.
Once on the landing, she walked to the outer edge. She could
see the engine’s steam forming a plume into the dark blue sky. She watched children running about. She smiled when she saw a couple with two young children. She guessed they were either six or seven. Nevertheless, she marveled how the mother frantically tried to maintain order, barking and demanding discipline. Lizzy smiled again as she watched the husband calmly take his wife’s arm and lead her away. She could barely hear his softly spoken words: “They’re kids, dear; let them be kids. It’s a long trip; let’s let our kids enjoy themselves. There’s no harm being done, no one’s amiss. They just need to spread their wings, that’s all; just let them spread their wings.”
Lizzy thought of what it was like for her to watch her father continue to spread his wings. Whether it was mapping on the Sante Fe Trail or exploring the Oregon Trail or even joining up to fight during the Mexican-American War, Lizzy had heard so many stories about how her father had always had that yearning to explore.
She was jolted once again by the sound of the train’s whistle. Just as the conductor had said, it was two long, yet very loud blasts that got the attention of everyone on the landing. Lizzy took one last look at the east side of the Sierras, smelled the freshness of the air and sensed the peaceful surroundings that had lured the first emigrants to take their own leap of faith.
Once again on board and safely in her seat, Lizzy watched the train creak into action. So very slow at first, but as it chugged along, it gained momentum and soon it was rolling to the rhythm of wheels on the rails.
“Next stop: Sacramento. Next stop: Sacramento!”
Lizzy glanced up at the large conductor as he made his way towards her. She diverted her eyes towards the window when she thought he was looking at her. She thought he reminded her of someone from years ago. Large man, bulky man. Deep voice, bushy beard.