THE FALL OF THE WHITE KNIGHT
by
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It was July 10th, 1936. I was going on five. I lived with my mother- and father- in the midst of Nor-th Dakota's beautiful Badlands. We lived in a one r-oom log cabin. It was built by my father in 1929 after he had marr-ied my mother. He had cut large cedar trees from the hills behind the cabin, cleaned the branches away and used the ten and twelve foot logs to build the sturdy little cabin. I sat on the large flat r-ock in front of the log cabin door. It served very nicely as a step. The rock was about seven inches thick and at least four feet across. I sat with my knees tucked under my chin and my dr-ess pulled down over my legs in a vain attempt to keep the mosquitos from biting. It was already dusk. Momma was calling me to come inside the house. I pretended not to hear. My father would come home from town very soon. He would never for-get to bring me candy. I was determined to not let my mother put me to bed before he came. Our nearest neighbor lived about seven miles away. I spent most summer- days outside watching for my father- to come home or playing with animals. We lived on a ranch. There wer-e some cattle and horses but many many sheep. I remember there were cats and dogs as well, and lots of wild animals that came up into the yard. Often I would follow my father- around as he did chores. When he went to town I felt anxious and lonely for him. He was the axis on which my life revolved.
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About the Book
1929 was the onset of the great depression. Taxes kept rising. People worried about the cost of the Old Age Pension Plan. People were losing their jobs. The only thing growing in North Dakota was sage brush and tumble weeds.
My mother was a well educated person, but stayed home, because that is what wives were expected to do. She recited poetry, made paper flowers, and read me stories about King Arthur and his Knights of the round table.
Parents need to be heroes for their children. Those children who learn to trust their parents are confident and self reliant, they are ready to give back to a needy world. They also learn that sometimes heroes fall. It takes a lot of courage and strength to get up after a fall. My white knight fell hard. But he got up and persevered. He was still my white knight. He's been gone 42 years. But will never be forgotten.
About the Author
My dream was to be a writer but other projects kept interfering. I filled notebooks with notes and squirreled chapters away for later, I thought I had time.
In 1993, I retired after teaching for 36 years. Then I had to deal with arthritis, diabetes, and breast cancer. I am a 16 year cancer survivor.
I looked around on my 80th birthday and discovered I did not have a new project, and thought maybe it is about time to become a published author. My husband Don and I have been married for 56 years, raised five children, ten dogs, and several cats lived and died, throughout those years. We currently live in an apartment, with only one cat.