Historical Fiction – The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah

Historical Fiction - The Great AloneThe Great Alone

By Kristin Hannah

 

I enjoyed reading Kristin Hannah’s “The Great Alone”, her new work of historical fiction. Though it was a departure from her successful World War II novel, “The Nightingale”, that is hardly a criticism. I admire her ability to write something so different and avoid the proverbial rut.

Lessons from Alaska

Set in Alaska in the 1970’s, this novel focuses on a family running away from civilization, places they haven’t been successful. Barely a teenager, Leni, the couple’s daughter, finds herself in a new and wondrous place. Frightened by the increasing violence of her Viet Nam-veteran father’s PTSD and her mother’s inability to change things, Leni takes comfort in learning all the lessons Alaska teaches her in self-reliance.

The young woman finds enduring friendships and learns to reach out to them for help sometimes. She grows up and comes to grip with the most difficult problems in her life. In some cases I felt her lessons were too harsh. In others I thought she lucked out a little too much. But that is life.

Alaska Historical Fiction

The Alaska setting brought a freshness and sense of wonder to this work of historical fiction. Until I read Hannah’s own background story, I supposed this novel to be loosely based on several current popular TV series that are set in our 49th state. (Confession: I only know this because I have watched many episodes myself.) But Kristin Hannah has close personal ties to the area around Homer.

Having traveled to Alaska once myself, I feel she describes the surroundings and atmosphere just right. I loved the Homer area and could imagine myself living there. The Great Alone recreates what it was like in the 1970’s, before the Alaska pipeline and cable TV brought so many more people to the state.

 

 

Van History – THE FURMANATOR

Furmanator Wyoming - Van History Van History – The History of My Life

Historically speaking, my Ford Econoline conversion van holds a lot of the history of my life for the last twenty years. I’m not really a car person, but I feel a strong attachment for this good old van.

Purchased new when our old Chevy conversion van died, we didn’t have a lot of options from which to choose. We were only a month away from leaving on a long vacation road trip to the West Coast. A new auto had to contain the power to tow our old 24-foot Coachman trailer over the Rockies and the Sierra Nevada mountains. The only vehicle that met all our needs, this brand-new Econoline practically drove itself into our garage.

Van History – To California and Back

Furmanator Grand Canyon - Van History

Its first big road trip, it drove us dependably through Colorado, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, and into California. The TV ensured that the kids didn’t have to miss watching “1776” on the 4th of July! The lovely window shades turned it into a dressing room at the beaches we visited. It carried us to the Grand Canyon, Legoland, Disneyland, Hollywood, and then up into the mountains to Sequoia, Kings Canyon, and Yosemite National Parks.

Furmanator Tunnel Tree - Van History

When we turned towards home, we encountered road work in Nevada that stripped the road down to rocks. The van survived okay, but the camper took it badly. My hubby had repairs to do when we made it home after our three week odyssey.

Van History – The Daily Grind

Furmanator Mission Trip - Van History

That same year, the Econoline towed Boy Scout camping supplies on weekends and for summer camp. We made the first of many road trips through the Sandhills to church camp in Burwell with a load of youngsters. It carried teens and equipment on mission trips. Some kids gave it a name – The Furmanator. It dropped off and picked up kids at school each day, one year from three different schools. Then it squired them to music lessons, scouts, and practices.

Van History – Canada and the Northeast

Furmanator Passengers - Van History

Our second year with the van, it took us to the East Coast, through Ontario, Quebec, Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Vermont, and New York. We soaked up the Revolutionary War vibrations, visited with Pilgrims, and met literary lions.  Again, the Furmanator became our beach dressing room. Tight rotaries while towing a camper provided challenges, as did the traffic signs in French. We made last stops at Niagara Falls and at Chicago to see the dinosaur named Sue and a Star Wars exhibit before heading for home. The camper bore more battle scars, and we sold it.

Van History – The Southeast and Gulf Coast

Furmanator Southeast - Van History

The next year the Furmanator carried just us to the Southeast and the Gulf Coast. Without the camper, we crammed everything into the van – suitcases, pillows, entertainment, food for picnics and snacks. Our three kids were about their maximum height by this point, and they appreciated the foot room. We said “Hi” to Elvis in Memphis (he answered “Thank you very much.”). And we paid our respects to Martin Luther King, Jr. in Atlanta.  Revolutionary War battlegrounds beckoned in South Carolina. We hiked in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, explored Mammoth Cave National Park, swam in the Gulf on the beach in Mississippi, listened to jazz in New Orleans, and searched the swamps in Louisiana.

Van History – Lewis and Clark

Furmanator Lemhi Pass - Van History

We asked a lot of the Furmanator the following summer, treading in the footsteps of Lewis and Clark, starting in Omaha and ending up on the coast in Washington and Oregon. We didn’t ask the van to drive in the Missouri or Columbia Rivers, but many miles of barely existing roads lay behind us by the end of that trip. As our kids said, “Lewis and Clark took the long way and they were lost a lot.”

We heard elk bugling near our camp in Lemhi Pass where we gazed at the Bitterroot Mountains with an apprehension similar to Lewis and Clark. Would the Furmanator and our borrowed pop-up camper make it down the one-lane dirt road and back up the next mountain? Our horsepower wasn’t as edible as theirs was, nor did we have to resort to eating tallow candles. And luckily, we had a large gas tank that saw us through to the next available sign of civilization.

Van History – All Over the Middle

Furmanator Tetons - Van History

In later years we wandered around Texas, played in Colorado, explored New Mexico, took a number of trips to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons, had some fun in the Black Hills, camped in Glacier National Park, went to the Grand Canyon and Mesa Verde, and traveled to the East Coast to visit our 49th state, Delaware. Sometimes we stayed in motels, sometimes we camped in a tent, sometimes we camped in the Furmanator.

Furmanator Glacier - Van Histroy

Furmanator Arch - Van History

Van History – Woe Is Me

Furmanator 4 Corners - Van History

The Furmanator acted a little more persnickety. The radiator sprang a leak in Rapid City. Wheel bearings (that supposedly had been repacked before we left) fried and stranded us at Four Corners. Literally the middle of nowhere. The alternator faded in New Jersey. Over-heated wheel bearings or brake parts blew up a front tire in Yellowstone and then again in Douglas, Wyoming on the same trip (after being repaired).

Furmanator New Jersey - Van HistoryFurmanator Wyoming Trouble - Van History

We learned a few things through all this:

  1. Some repair places aren’t worth spit!
  2. We don’t know how to tell the difference between repairs and prep done well and those bound to fail.
  3. It’s kind of fun to ride inside the Furmanator on top of a tow truck trailer.
  4. It’s not so much fun to ride inside a tow truck.
  5. Cell phones are a marvelous invention.
  6. Maybe it’s about time to go vehicle shopping.

When my husband retired at the end of 2017, we were forced to think about what that meant. The one thing we knew we wanted was to keep on traveling. And once we decided that we wanted a camper again, we knew that meant a new towing vehicle. An almost twenty year old van with over 216,000 miles isn’t up to that job anymore.

Van History – Family History

Furmanator College - Van History

Silly and sentimental, but I can’t say goodbye to the Furmanator without a few tears. I watched my children grow from elementary school through high school in that vehicle. We packed all their belongings to different college campuses and back again in that van. We moved them into apartments and ferried wedding presents in the big green Econoline. Last year we took our one-year-old granddaughter on her first vacation to Yellowstone in the Furmanator.

Family and friends. Memories made together. Some great, some not so great. Here’s hoping the history made in our new vehicle will be as interesting and sweet as the history we made with the Furmanator.

 

 

 

MYSTERY – Solved and Unsolved

Mystery???

 

I love a good mystery. Doesn’t everyone? Ever since I “discovered” Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden I have been a mystery fan.

Mystery

Back in those days, when I spent whole summers reading nothing else, I was obsessed with finding real mysteries wherever I looked. I recall riding bikes with a friend out on the gravel road to the cemetery, stopping along the way to search for clues in the ditches, roadside, and, of course, in the cemetery.

Mystery

We found beer cans, pop bottle lids, candy wrappers, an occasional shoe or car muffler. We tried to build mysteries around these things. Somewhat unsuccessfully. Whose car was making a lot of noise lately? Which high school boys were most likely responsible for throwing the beer cans out their car window? How many females in our town wore a size 7 shoe, and who was missing one?

More Complex Mystery

Mystery

As I aged out of Nancy Drew, classics replaced mysteries as my preferred reading. But the mysteries persisted. Who is the crazy person living in Mr. Rochester’s attic? How many secrets are there in The Scarlet Letter?

History Mystery

As I matured, I grew more and more passionate about history. I realize that history is full of mysteries. Research helps uncover not just events that happened long ago. It sheds light on the people who participated in those events, along with their desires and motives. How did they live? What were they trying to accomplish?

Mystery

We know that Edward IV’s two young sons vanished from the Tower of London, but it was a mystery for many years if and how they died, and is still debatable who was responsible. Did Richard III kill his nephews?  Shakespeare immortalized that version. Or was it done through Margaret Beaufort to put forward her son Henry Tudor (who became Henry VII) as heir to the English throne? Or maybe it was Richard’s wife to ensure the succession would come down that line? It is still a mystery waiting to be solved.

Mystery

 

Mystery Historical Fiction

Classics and my love of history led me to reading historical fiction, and even there, I’ve found mysteries. A paleontologist dug up dinosaur fossils in Centennial by James Michener and solved a murder from an earlier century.

Mystery

I’m a fan of historical fiction mysteries. I love the Brother Cadfael mysteries by Ellis Peters with his medieval monk sleuth. C. J. Sansom has Matthew Shardlake as a Tudor era detective. Right down my alley! Elizabeth Peters amuses me with Amelia Peabody and her Egyptian archeologist adventures in the Valley of the Kings.

Mystery

 

Mystery Fiction

Nancy Drew has even reappeared in my life. Of course, now she looks like National Park Ranger Anna Pigeon in Nevada Barr’s works. Or Dr. Kay Scarpetta in Patricia Cornwell’s forensics. Or Kathy Reichs’ Temperance Brennan. Or maybe even madcap Stephanie Plum in Janet Evanovich’s novels.

Mystery

Contemporary mysteries, with their flawed but admirable solvers draw me into their worlds, too. James Lee Burke’s Dave Robicheaux is at the top of this list. Sheriff Walt Longmire and Game Warden Joe Pickett, characters created by Craig Johnson and C. J. Box, respectively, fall into this category. They appeal to me with their Wyoming locales in the Big Horn Mountains. Tony Hillerman, P. D. James, Louise Penny, Elizabeth George, Aaron Elkins, and so many more, right back to Sherlock Holmes, tempt me to spend time with them.

Mystery

Why are mysteries so popular? I believe it is because they all appeal to the human desire for justice and to our natural curiosity. In the real world, we usually find out who has been killed, and maybe the cause of death. But the other questions are less surely answered. “Whodunit”, how did they do it, and why did they do it, are not always answered to our satisfaction in true life.

Mystery

But remember, some crimes take a hundred years to come to light, when a paleontologist digs up human bones along with a dinosaur fossil…

 

What’s On Your Bookshelf? Reflections of Yourself

What does my bookshelf say about me?  I read an article in the Omaha World Herald a few weeks ago that spoke of how a book collection reflects the person who owns it.

Do I need more science fiction and mystery in this bookshelf?

My Bookshelf

I walked through my house, pouring over the titles on each bookshelf. My eclectic collection reflects a lot of disparate interests. Two double-wide, seven-feet-tall shelves line my family room. Two four-shelf cases grace my living room. Three tall shelf units (the type you can buy at Shopko) line my basement family room. Other shelves hold kids’ books. And all are full, even though I cull them annually for our church garage sale.

Is this enough Plains history and science?

My Bookshelf

The first and easiest thing my bookshelves say is that I probably own too many books! I may be a book hoarder. At the very least, I have trouble parting with books I have loved, books with beautiful bindings, books about my favorite subjects, books I want to read again, and books I mean to read soon. Books fill each bookshelf fairly well, and I find it more difficult every year to fill a box for the rummage sale.

I could use more world and English literature in this bookshelf…

My Bookshelf

My shelves also tell of my background working in libraries and bookstores. Being the daughter of a librarian, my books are shelved by genre, author, or time frame, of course. Two of the basement bookshelf units contain science fiction/fantasy, while one contains mysteries. The living room units are full of historical nonfiction and science. The shelves in my family room are divided into world literature and English literature on the north, while American literature and fiction overflow on the south.

I can never get enough American historical novels…

My Bookshelf

How old was I when I first read of Elizabeth and Darcy? Who was that professor who helped me see the inner beauty of Wordsworth’s poems? How much better would my term paper about Thomas Jefferson be if I wrote it today? What interesting worlds can be created by authors who let go of the world as we know it? Don’t I need another book about Lewis and Clark? What’s the newest National Park adventure by Nevada Barr? When will Sheriff Longmire run into Joe Pickett?

Anyone for some historical nonfiction?

My Bookshelf

The books on my bookshelf follow my own footsteps through life. Thornton W. Burgess, The Boxcar Children, Louisa May Alcott, Trixie Belden, Nancy Drew, and Anne of Green Gables were my childhood friends. I graduated to Bronte, Austen, Elswyth Thane, Mary Stewart, Neville Shute, and A. J. Cronin. Then I found Michener. Oh, the glory of Michener – start at the very beginning and leave nothing out!

Don’t judge me for my affinity for children’s books!

My Bookshelf

I favor all books about King Arthur, many novels about the Tudors, early American history – fiction and nonfiction, Nebraska and western history and fiction, science fiction and fantasy, mysteries, and religious fiction. With the recent explosion of young adult fiction, I find myself drawn to them for fantasy page turners when I don’t have much time. But I am apt to choose almost any genre, depending on my mood.

I guess my bookshelf collection proves that it’s not so important what I’m reading as it is that I am reading! And I am a book hoarder.

 

 

Christmas Deconstructed for Our Enjoyment

Enjoying Christmas

Christmas and enjoyment have not always been compatible for me.

This year I was determined not to fall into the trap of Christmas doldrums! I needed to find a new way of looking at the holiday season, one that wasn’t filled with anxiety over buying and wrapping perfect gifts, producing delectable feasts, arranging dates to help everyone get where they wanted to be, fretting over UN-accommodating weather, and, not least, turning my heart to the true meaning of Christmas.

Christmas Table

2016 helped me find that change of attitude in two very different ways.

The Eyes of a Child

I became a grandmother for the first time this year. With a ten month old granddaughter at my house and then at hers, I was treated to the joy of Christmas through the eyes of a child.

A jingling bell off the Christmas tree. A long stocking with things inside of it for her. A stuffed Rudolf toy. Mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie with whipped cream. Lights on a Christmas tree (inside and outside). Carols with a piano and all of us singing. Candles lit on a dining table. Ripping wrapping paper. Grandma singing “The Friendly Beasts” while showing her the pictures in the book.

I felt her joy and wonder touch me as well, just by sharing these new things with her.

 

The Eyes of One Who is Leaving

This year also brought with it the sicknesses and deaths of some good friends. Much harder, but seeing Christmas through the eyes of someone who might be seeing it for the last time was  very meaningful.

All of the things mentioned above have a beauty that can’t be denied if seen as a dear memory to take with them when they depart. People most value memories of loved ones gathered experiencing all of these things together.

Christmases of the past. Carols in another language. Sledding in the cold with siblings, perhaps pulled by parents. Church services with candles. Memories of people long gone but not forgotten with whom we shared previous Christmases.

Christmas is a gift to all of us, a time of belonging and love. May our hearts always feel it!

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Bears!

historically speaking bears

It’s all Teddy Roosevelt’s fault. Historically speaking, bears were considered to be fierce predators to be feared, hunted, and eaten. Tales of derring-do often included encounters with bears. Think Lewis and Clark, think Davy Crockett. But then Teddy Roosevelt came along.

One of the most fascinating Presidents America has ever had, Theodore Roosevelt loved to experience nature. He was an avid hunter, and in 1902, he was on a hunting trip in Mississippi when he was confronted with an interesting situation. After three days of hunting, Roosevelt had not spotted a bear, though others had. Some of the guides decided to help him out, and they tracked a bear with their dogs and managed to tie it to a tree. Wouldn’t you love to see a video of that process? They presented this bear to Roosevelt so that he would have the opportunity to shoot it. He refused to do so, calling it unsportsmanlike.

http://www.theodoreroosevelt.org/site/c.elKSIdOWIiJ8H/b.8684621/k.6632/Real_Teddy_Bear_Story.htm

The newspapers of the day seized on this story as great fodder for their cartoonists. Most of their cartoons showed the bear as a cub rather than the aged bear of reality. The cartoons inspired a shop owner to put two homemade stuffed toy bears in the window of his store, calling them Teddy’s bears, and thus began one of the first national toy fads. Everyone wanted one for their children.

Since that time, every generation has literally embraced teddy bears as their earliest beloved possessions. Including me. I have always loved and been interested in bears, from the time I had a teddy bear, to the first time I visited Yellowstone National Park at the age of seven, to all my visits to zoos, to all the nature documentaries I have watched. I lived in Yellowstone for one whole summer, and I know all the rules for safety in bear country. I know them and I believe them.

But there we were, my husband and I, with another couple and our pilot, lazing on a sandbar between the river and the sea, on a sunny summer day in Katmai National Park in Alaska. We had forded the river in our hip waders, and we were surrounded by breath-taking glacier-covered mountains. That would have been worth the trip, even if the grizzly bears hadn’t been watching us from their resting places on the sandbar. There was a female bear and her nearly grown cub resting nearest to our crossing point, and two other single bears sleeping in separate areas further out. Our pilot, who had flown us to this remote beach from Homer, Alaska, told us the bears would probably sleep till the tide was just right for fish to start running. We knelt just behind a rise to wait and watch.

The mother bear glanced at us in an offhand way. Seemingly, she went back to dozing while we huddled together about 75 yards away, clicking away with our cameras. The other two bears paid little attention to us and one of them eventually rose and waded into the water, studying it carefully. He made a sudden feint and lunged in, coming up with a fish in his jaws. He carried his catch onto the sand and devoured it. The seagulls were there before he finished and made noisy work of cleaning up.

The pilot asked if we’d like to move to the top of a rise that was a bit closer. We all voted yes and crept forward. The mother bear turned her head and looked at us, but didn’t move otherwise. The other two adult bears started fishing more seriously and we watched them. The cub woke up, walked to its mother, and pestered her to nurse. She rolled over on her back and let it suckle until the cub was satisfied.

grizzly mom nursing cubThen they cuddled, nose to nose, paws around each other. What a sight to behold! We gazed in wonder from less than 50 yards away.

grizzly bear mom and cub cuddlingWe moved closer to the stream and downstream from the mother and cub. The mother bear got up and saw the other two bears fishing successfully, so she decided to try her luck. But she wanted to fish downstream, closer to where the others were catching fish. She looked at us and started walking our way. Our pilot spoke firmly, “Move along bear, just go on by,” and she walked past us, probably not more than ten yards away, with her cub following her.

grizzly bear passes byShe plunged into the river and caught a salmon in her jaws. Her cub wanted her to give it up, but she made it settle for the part it wrested from her by fighting for it. The cub returned to the shore and settled down to eat its portion. A raven vied for a share, and they made a game of it, the raven dancing in and out, the cub slapping a paw at the raven.

grizzly bear and cub fishingThen one of the two male bears decided he might be able to steal the cub’s food or maybe that he didn’t like the mother and cub fishing close to his place in the river, and he rushed across the stream towards the cub. The mother splashed her way in between the interloper and her cub and the two adults had a face off. She made clicking, popping noises with her jaw, almost like yawning with her mouth open. She continued until the other bear backed off and gave them a wide berth in the water.

grizzly bear stand offThe tide was moving in and the pilot told us we needed to go while we still had enough beach to take off in the small plane. We knew the day had to end, but we all felt blessed that we had been allowed to experience the wonders of this place. I wished a silent benediction to the mother bear and her cub for allowing us to be part of their day.