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The Charm String Stories
The Charm String Stories
The Charm String Stories
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The Charm String Stories

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About
The Charm String Stories
There are as many reflections concerning the development of what would eventually become the State of Washington as there are people who experienced it. This book is one view composed of many interpretations: a young boy traveling west by covered wagon; a young girl born just prior to departure; a husband and wife searching for an uncertain future; Native Americans dealing with changes in lifestyle, attitudes and stereotypes which they neither solicited nor created; the march of technology through a raw, ownerless wilderness to a burgeoning small town economy on the brink of a destiny in statehood.
Some of it was good. Some of it was less than fortunate. But it was all absolutely written in the sense that there was no appeal or reprieve. It was like the tide. It was coming in and there was no turning back. But there was, and there is, looking back. And that is the purpose of this book. Our path ahead as a civilization is far more secure and purposed if we can only take a minute or two to turn around and realize how far weve come in only a few generations. But thats not the whole story. These people did a lot of work. They had a mighty struggle which I am not sure we could match. But we are where we are because of their work, because of the foundation they laid, as imperfect as it was.
Here it is, all strung together in a charm string dimension, a story of two boys, a wolf, a sunrise, a sea gull, a great friendship, and a purposed gaze into a future with a foundation in education and a commitment to an improved reality for all.
Nick Bond, editor
Grandson of the author
May, 2012
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJun 14, 2012
ISBN9781477211847
The Charm String Stories
Author

Florence Westover Bond

In the fall of 1881, Ida Belle Westover received word that if she wanted to see her mother, Christina Minor Martin, alive again, she’d better return to Modale, Iowa. She was pregnant at the time, and the trip from Ord, Nebraska was difficult. Her mother died as predicted, but winter had set in and Ida couldn’t make the return trip until after the birth of the baby. Florence Christina Westover was born Christmas Day, 1881 in Modale, Iowa. As soon as she was able, Ida Belle started back to Ord with little Florence. On the way back, the stagecoach was snowed in a few miles from Ord. Led by her husband, William Ambrose Westover and an uncle, Robert Nichols, a deputy U.S. Marshall, a rescue party came to get them. When she was one year old, Florence’s father moved the family to Seattle by immigrant train. For a time he was deputy state land commissioner, and while in Olympia, Florence endured the first tragedy of her young life, witnessing the drowning of her brother Guy. The family eventually moved to Chehalis where her father opened a law office, and, in later years, served as mayor. There she graduated from high school at sixteen, and two days after her 17th birthday she married the high school principal, Elias A. Bond. They had five children, one of whom, Margaret, died in adolescence of pneumonia. The other four each served in the U.S. Navy during World War II, attaining the rank of Lieutenant Commander, each earning Ph.D. degrees in education. Florence ran a good size chicken ranch, and, as one of the first female licensed building contractors in the state, built a number of houses. It was during her early childhood, however, that Florence had experiences, which would influence her interest in Native American cultures and early pioneer days. She developed a relationship with a number of Indians, among them, Princess Angeline, daughter of Chief Seattle. Florence’s father, being an educated man and an attorney, had contact with many persons of note, both Indian and white. In her late teens she was quite an elocutionist, winning several medals in competition. All of her other accomplishments and experiences notwithstanding, Florence Westover Bond was a marvelous storyteller, first enchanting her children and grandchildren by the hour. These two books, The Charm String Stories, and Chief Seattle, Man of Vision are her legacy.

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    The Charm String Stories - Florence Westover Bond

    © 1994 and 2012 by Nick W. Bond. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the editor/copyright owner.

    Published by AuthorHouse 07/26/2012

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-1183-0 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-1184-7 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2012909197

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    for Patty

    Contents

    Chapter 1 Homesteading

    Chapter 2 A Difficult Decision

    Chapter 3 Berry Picking

    Chapter 4 The Sun and the Sea Gull

    Chapter 5 The Magic Cloak

    Chapter 6 Last of a Tribe

    Chapter 7 A Log Jam

    Chapter 8 The Lost Bull

    Chapter 9 His Highness

    Chapter 10 An Immigrant Train

    Chapter 11 The Picnic Basket

    Chapter 12 Sports

    Chapter 13 A Mystery

    Chapter 14 A Memorial

    Chapter 15 Tintype

    Chapter 16 The Wolf and the Sea Gull

    About the Author

    Critique by Delbert McBride

    Recipient: State Historic Preservation Officer’s

    1994 Annual Award

    For Outstanding Career Achievement in Historic Preservation

    Washington State Office of Archaeology and Historic Preservation

    May 10,1994

    Mike Lowry

    Governor

    Mary M. Thompson

    State Historic

    Preservation Officer

    Concerning the biography Chief Seattle Man of Vision and The End of the Trail, retitled: The Charm String Stories by Florence Westover Bond.

    Memo to: Nick Bond

    From: Del McBride

    I have both manuscripts and find the(m) very readable, with a flowing style and enough conversation and action to make them of interest to young people, as well as the older generations.

    In The End of the Trail the character of Kittitas or Kit, whether purely fictional or not, is well drawn an(d) keeps the story moving right along.

    In both, I’m impressed by the writer’s understanding and handling of concepts of Salish Indian spirit power, which seems consistent with what I’ve heard from my part-Indian family as well as various elders of local tribes.

    Reading through the Chief Seattle biographical sketch, references to the Hudson’s Bay Co. arrivals, Fort Nisqually and steamer Beaver appear to jibe with our family traditions, which I heard about in my early years from my Indian great-grandmother and others.

    A couple of technical points: whether the Beaver was (a) stern-wheeler or side-wheeler is not made clear. It was definitely the latter, even after later alterations. My great-great-grandfather, John McLeod, served on the Beaver crew from early 1839 to 1844, with trading trips from Fort Nisqually as far north as Sitka.

    The other point is where the Beaver was finally shipwrecked. W.P. Bonney, in History of Pierce County Vol. 1 p. 26 says: "The Beaver was wrecked on the rocks in Burra(r)d Inlet Vancouver, B.C. on July 26,1888." Numerous other sources confirm it was off Vancouver, not Seattle, as stated.

    On the James McAllister materials (he was first cousin to my great-grandfather, John Wesley McAlister, and they both signed as witnesses to the Medicine Creek Treaty in 1854—the second L was added to the name by the following generations) her (the author) account seems to largely agree with our family traditions. This includes the part when McAllister was killed in 1855, his body was treated with respect, and not mutilated as was his companion, Connell. McAllister’s tombstone is close by here, at Tumwater Masonic Cemetery, and states: Killed by Indians.

    DJM

    April 28, 1994

    Chapter Focus

    Chapter One: Homesteading

    Harvey and Ada Wilson find their way west and work to lay an economic foundation for their future.

    Chapter Two: A Difficult Decision

    The Wilson’s cash out on their initial investment to make that investment grow.

    Chapter Three: Berry Picking

    There is a fire of evil, there is fire which lights a story which must be told.

    Chapter Four: The Sun and the Sea Gull

    A white boy finds his destiny in a Native American culture.

    Chapter Five: The Magic Cloak

    Now a man, he searches for his roots.

    Chapter Six: The Last of a Tribe

    Those roots are gone forever.

    Chapter Seven: A Log Jam

    The Spirit persists.

    Chapter Eight: The Lost Bull

    A cultural crossroads.

    Chapter Nine: His Highness

    The tide advances and the world is changed.

    Chapter Ten: An Immigrant Train

    The celebrating and building of a nation.

    Chapter Eleven: The Picnic Basket

    Humanitarian difficulties.

    Chapter Twelve: Sports

    Competition and what it means.

    Chapter Thirteen: A Mystery

    From time to time, life is a mess.

    Chapter Fourteen: A Memorial

    A journey of life, a focus for wealth.

    Chapter Fifteen: Tintype

    The probability of the improbable.

    Chapter Sixteen: The Wolf and the Sea Gull

    Mankind’s common quest: where do I fit in?

    Chapter 1

    Homesteading

    Young Harvey Wilson was restless in the small Missouri town. For a number of years he watched parties of pioneers assemble, became outfitted, and start out over the Oregon Trail to California and Oregon Territory. The cowboys who drove the herds of livestock that followed the covered wagons fascinated Harvey. He longed to join a caravan.

    Finally, one day, Harvey said to his wife, Ada, it must be exciting to travel in a covered wagon. I wish we could make the journey across this vast land.

    Why? Ada responded. There’s an uninhabited country at the end of the long trip. And from the reports we hear, there are many obstacles and uncertainties along the way. Anyway, you’re a lawyer. How could you earn a living in a wilderness?

    I could build up a law practice there as easily as I have here, responded her ambitious, but poorly informed husband.

    I’m not sure I could endure the hardships of so long a trip. And, I’d be reluctant to leave our comfortable home.

    We’d settle on a homestead in Washington Territory and build a fine home. It would be a new sort of life in a settlement where all our neighbors would be pioneers.

    I’d be afraid of the Indians of the far west. And I’m not sure I want Brad to grow up among them, continued Ada, searching for reasons to keep the family of three from embarking on a trip she knew her husband was determined to make.

    From what I’ve read, I understand the Indians in Washington Territory are now on reservations, for the most part. I don’t think we’d have trouble from them.

    Well, maybe not, conceded Ada. I guess the real reason I don’t wish to go so far from here is that I don’t want to be separated from Bob.

    We must not pay attention to a young fellow like your brother, Bob. He’ll get along all right. And, anyway, you’ll see him again. He’ll follow us west someday, prophesied Harvey.

    I suppose he might. But what will we do with our property and your law practice?

    We’ll sell them. We wouldn’t be able to start until the weather moderates in the spring. And then Brad will be five years old—old enough perhaps to remember the trip.

    All winter Harvey studied the equipment they would need for the trip to the far west. He talked with other people who were also dreaming of going to the land of opportunity where homesteads could be acquired merely by staking a claim. He planned with the stores for the supplies they would need as he prepared for their trek over the Oregon Trail. He dreamed of the new life he and his family would have in the beautiful land he had heard so much about.

    During the winter months Harvey sold their home and his law practice in Independence, Missouri. He and Ada bought the covered wagon and all the supplies needed for their journey. Five-year-old Brad was quite excited about the new wagon which was to be their home during the trip. He thought their new team of horses was the best he had ever seen.

    Early in March all was in readiness for the trip over the Oregon Trail to Washington Territory. The Wilson’s bade their many friends farewell. Then they joined a caravan of pioneers and were soon traveling among the creaking wagons slowly progressing toward the unknown adventures that lay ahead.

    The long trip to Fort Vancouver, on the bank of the Columbia River, was extremely hazardous and dreary for the Wilson’s. Ada was near exhaustion when the members of the caravan finally made camp at Fort Vancouver to rest for several days. After a few days spent securing new supplies and repairing equipment, the caravan split up. Each pioneer family went its own way, some north, some south, each intent on finding a suitable location for a new home.

    Harvey and Ada decided to go to Puget Sound where they had heard there were settlements and many fine homestead sites. The family traveled north along the Cowlitz River, past the farms of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Harvey’s spirits rose as he viewed the abundant crops being harvested on those farms, only to sink in the mire of the often impassible road north of Cowlitz Landing. Mr. Jackson, one of the first pioneers to settle in the Territory of Washington, opened his home to the rain-soaked travelers. The Wilson’s, like many pioneers before them, found the Jackson hospitality a source of refuge and inspiration.

    That night, as Brad lay in a comfortable bed, he thought of the long trip he had taken from Independence. Actually, Brad did not remember much detail about the overland trip. After the excitement of the first few hours, most of the trip seemed tiresome. However, Brad remembered that his father and mother had to work hard each night making camp and cooking meals. He had work to do, too. He got water and wood and helped with the dishes and pans. He remembered how hard he found it to wake up early enough to be ready at daybreak to start each day’s trip. He remembered seeing rocky peaks that looked like huge stone animals and seeing men kill animals for food. He remembered the stampeding buffalo and the cowboy who rode fast. The cowboy, followed by other riders, had succeeded in turning the stampeding animals away from the caravan of covered wagons. Brad also remembered some gypsies with whom his family traveled—especially the gypsy chief who rode horseback with his father.

    One night they were camped near a lake where there were some big birds. The next morning, when Brad awakened, the gypsies were gone. He remembered his father said, The gypsy chief, his tribe and most of the other members of our caravan have gone south to look for gold. How about riding with me today? All that day, Brad rode astride the horse in front of his father.

    That evening when Brad climbed into the covered wagon, he saw a little baby. The boy thought the birds brought the baby. His mother told him the baby was his new sister, Marie. From then on his mother seemed to have even more work to do. Snug in the soft, warm bed in the Jackson home, Brad stopped thinking about the long trip and was soon asleep.

    During the next three days Mrs. Wilson looked out the window frequently. It looks as if it’ll rain forever! What in the world are we going to do? the bewildered, homeless, weary woman asked.

    I’ve been talking with Mr. Jackson. He says the road to Puget Sound will be impassible for some time after this storm. There are many miles of swampy land between here and the Sound. There are few roads in the Puget Sound area. Besides the Indians, most of the people now living there are loggers who came on lumber schooners to work in logging camps and mills. I’m afraid we’re going to have to wait for more people to come west before I can start a law practice.

    What in the world will we do in this wilderness? asked Ada. I can’t possibly go back over the Oregon Trail again!

    You’ll never have to do that. I’ve already had an offer from a fellow who wants to purchase our wagon and I’ve made arrangements with Jackson for you to remain here for a few days while I go north with two timber cruisers to a river valley where people already are living in cabin homes.

    Timber cruisers? What do you mean?

    A timber cruiser is a representative of a lumber company. He estimates the value of timber to determine a fair price for an acreage of trees. The timber cruisers will help me locate a good homestead.

    Is there a town in that valley? queried Ada.

    "No. There’s no town yet, but a very early pioneer built a blockhouse during the Indian wars. He and two other families live near the blockhouse, and there’s a good trading post a short distance from their homesteads. Other pioneers are settling in the valleys. I expect to locate a claim very soon. Then I’ll return to take you, the children, and the rest of our belongings to what I’m told is a beautiful

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