• About
  • Bio
  • Fantasy Snippets
  • Gracarin Map
  • Regency Snippets

historyfanforever

historyfanforever

Tag Archives: travel

INFLUENCE

06 Monday Nov 2017

Posted by mlrover in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

antiques, civil war, costumes, Galena, history, inspiration, pioneer, research, travel, writing

There are those who long for a fairy godmother. As I’ve mentioned before, I had a fey aunt, Marie Louise Duerrstein, and tagged after her in fascination with how her mind and imagination worked. It wasn’t until a few months before she could no longer speak clearly from a stroke that I realized that whenever she told me her ideas, I saw them exactly as she created them in her mind.

As a girl, it never occurred to me not to do what Aunt Marie said. There were some chores I didn’t like doing, but then there were the times when she told me to audition for a play. The thought of saying no or that I couldn’t do it never entered my head. I was her living mannequin for newspapers, magazines, and in first grade, a documentary I’d forgotten about until my sister, Sarah, saw it in a history class.

Aunt Marie put together parades and pageants, reenactments and Santa Claus Houses. She’d hand me a paint brush and tell me to paint a horse because she wasn’t good at that. She once told me to make an elephant after she erected its frame, which got stuffed with newspaper, covered in burlap, and painted gray. Later, she told me to make a much larger one for a Republican Party event.

She amassed her own museum, The Old General Store, what she called: A Step into the past. And it was, and so convincing Jan Troell used it in his film, The Emigrants. Until becoming a curator, she made a living as a seamstress and selling bits of this and that of her artwork. She got artifacts for the museum with her wily sense of acquiring what she needed for nothing or next to nothing. Her motto was: Never pay for advertising. She didn’t, and yet her museum was known all over the world and in major magazines from National Geographic to Good Housekeeping.

Galena, Illinois was one of the first boomtowns of the West. In the 1820’s, Illinois was considered the edge of the world. By the 1840s, Galena’s Main Street was lined with four and five story brick and stone buildings (still intact) that survived spring floods from the Mississippi backing up the Galena River, filling the first floors with muddy water. Businesses moved merchandise to the top floors. And forgot about a lot of it. Aunt Marie didn’t. She knew the town’s history and went to store owners in the early 1950s. She said she’d clean out their attics if she could keep what she found. The items ended up in her museum, like-new boxes never opened, some from prior to the civil war.

When she opened her museum in 1957, she dressed me in a costume she’d sewn and in high- button shoes seventy years old. I worked in the museum, as did most of my family, after learning local history from Aunt Marie, who learned it directly from old timers. One was a woman in her nineties, who remembered sitting perched on her father’s shoulder to listen to Lincoln speaking from a Desoto Hotel balcony.

To this day, the 1800’s seem more comfortable to me than the present. Nine of my formative years had been spent surrounded by the past. That’s how it became easy to write in the time period. I know how to trim lamp wicks, fill them with kerosene, and clean the chimneys. I still use a coffee mill from that time. My home has antiques from her collection and the maternal side of my family. I know I will never taste anything as exquisite as the crispy lightness of a waffle made on the range with a waffle maker of cast iron. And that’s how I could write a story about a woman moving from Chicago in 1891 to a cabin in Colorado. So maybe there is something to the adage about writing about what you know.

Avenue to Heaven was released 11/01/17. It’s the first book in the Westward Bound series, stories about women who make new lives for themselves on the other side of the Mississippi, women of courage and determination. The ones who actually accomplished this are our past and our heritage.

https://www.amazon.com/Avenue-Heaven-Westward-Bound-Book-ebook/dp/B076HVGS98/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1509530295&sr=1-1&dpID=41zH8uAUeKL&preST=_SX342_QL70_&dpSrc=detail

 

Below is one of the ”living mannequin” moments. I was twelve at the time and can’t remember what it was for, magazine or newspaper. The background is the museum and mannequins she made to “dress” the store.

me 11-2nd

 

And Aunt Marie as a stand-in for the movie Gaily, Gaily

Marie Gaily Gaily

 

M.L Rigdon (aka Julia Donner)

Follow on Twitter @RigdonML

Blog: https://historyfanforever.wordpress.com/

Website http://www.MLRigdon.com

https://partners.bookbub.com/authors/1163516/edit

 

Advertisement

Share this:

  • Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)

Like this:

Like Loading...

Something Not So Grim

08 Monday Sep 2014

Posted by mlrover in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

beheading, castle, feud, Killin, Loch Earn, Roman, Roman Camp Hotel, Scotland, travel, warriors

While doing research, I read about a keep near Killin, (pronouced Kill-UN) Scotland where the original beheading pit and its stone still existed. That’s as grim as it’s going to get but will serve as a jumping off point.

When we’re lucky, writers get the opportunity to visit the faraway places where we set our stories. It’s been thirty years, so I can’t remember why I picked Killin on Loch Tay. Mom was up for a trip to visit family friends in Southampton, England. We would stay with them and take a night train north to Roman Camp Hotel in Callander, a 17th century shooting lodge close to Killin. We made a stop in Stirling to visit the library. (Back then, the best way to do research was locally.) While there, I rummaged up what I could on Killin, but got sidetracked by this story.

Three hundred years ago, local clans, the McNab’s and the Campbells, did not get along. To avenge a slight, the McNab’s plotted a raid on a secure holding of the Campbell’s located on a small island in the center of Loch Earn. The McNab crew got a boat, shouldered it, and trotted it miles over rough terrain to Loch Earn. The safest approach was a hillside over the loch. They hauled the boat up the hill and stealthily down the other side, silently crossed the lake, made mayhem and returned. They changed their minds at the top of the hill and decided to leave the boat. That they succeeded with their endeavor is not the “rest of the story” as old time radio announcer, Paul Harvey, used to say. But I’ll explain more later.

I think Mom was a bit overwhelmed by the Roman Camp Hotel, built near the remains of—you guessed it—a Roman campsite. The date of sixteen-something is imbedded in the door lintel, only a few inches over my head. People were shorter back then. The library then boasted a bar and a restful view of the salmon stream that drew visitors. I sat there the first night, watching as the piper marched and played the evening song along its bank. All very lovely, but there was a problem.

There were no rental cars available, not that I yearned to drive up to Killin. It wasn’t a matter of staying on the “wrong” side of the road, but that the so-called road wasn’t much more than a trail. I asked the proprietor for help. She said that a mail truck went there every day and wouldn’t mind taking me along. I didn’t like the idea of leaving Mom alone in a strange land. The next suggestion was a driver, what they call a courier. That way, when we were done in Killin, he could drive us to Glasgow for the night train back to Southampton.

Mom and I waited in the foyer early the next morning, where she almost expired when the courier arrived, a strapping monster of a man with ruddy cheeks in a porcelain complexion and a nimbus of red-gold hair on his head. (To clarify, Mom was not afraid, but in slack-jawed awe and my dad was no slouch in the looks or bearing department.)

Mr. Over-the-Top-Highlander brought along his son to learn the biz and makes the kid drive at pants-on-fire speed to Killin, which can barely be called a village. Mr. OTTH goes into a shop, asks about the ancient keep. We drive to the end of the road, where OTTH points at the dark green forest blanketed in bracken. I’m out of the car and plowing through the ferns.

The keep wasn’t hard to find. A tree had grown through one of its walls. There was some evidence that attempts had been made to shore up the structure. I entered, curious if the beheading pit would have been dug indoors, as a form of entertainment. Unfortunately, a back wall had collapsed. I climbed the dirt and debris, looked down through the opening, and there it was. Someone else might have thought it was just a hole in the ground, but it was perfectly square after centuries and I spied the edge of a mottled-grey stone. I had to jump in. Spooky.

By this time, everyone else had come around to the back of the keep. Mom told me to get out of there and OTTH designated the entire place grisly. I got what I wanted, the “feel” for a scene setting, and was ready to head to Glasgow.

Here is the part that amazed me most. On the way to Glasgow, I asked to be driven by Loch Earn, explained about the McNab raid, and that locals had found bits of the castoff boat. OTTH had never of it, other than knowing some discord between the Black Campbells and the McNab clan. He stopped the car under a hill and said this was the elevated side of the loch. I got out and stared.

Elevated? It was practically straight up. The raiders had carried the boat for miles, hoisted it up a nearly vertical hill, down the other side, rowed the lake, fought hand-to-hand, and rowed back. No wonder they left it behind. Do ya think they might’ve been a little bushed? Known for its do-or-die warriors, that hill was proof as to why the English threw the Scot regiments at the enemy in the first wave of every war.

The best part for me was that Scotland was exactly as I imagined it, with jolly, accommodating people. The landscape, so mystical and mysterious, can’t be captured in a photograph. It has the same feel of ancient history as England, where centuries of the blood and bones of its peoples lie buried. I love being an American but could live in Scotland’s countryside.

Next time, as the Python’s say: Something Completely Different

Share this:

  • Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)

Like this:

Like Loading...

Blogs I Follow

  • The Bump and Grind of Daily Life
  • Entertaining Stories
  • Hollywood Genes
  • Hannes van Eeden
  • LIVING THE DREAM
  • Sharing
  • Happiness Between Tails by da-AL
  • Edge of Humanity Magazine
  • BRAINCHILD
  • Dr. Eric Perry’s Blog
  • Bombay Ficus
  • Harmony Books & Films, LLC
  • Facets of a Muse
  • Myths of the Mirror
  • Ailish Sinclair
  • Book 'Em, Jan O
  • The Godly Chic Diaries
  • Staci Troilo
  • The Observation Post
  • From the Pen of Mae Clair

Archives

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

http://writingmusings.com/

  • The Bump and Grind of Daily Life
  • Entertaining Stories
  • Hollywood Genes
  • Hannes van Eeden
  • LIVING THE DREAM
  • Sharing
  • Happiness Between Tails by da-AL
  • Edge of Humanity Magazine
  • BRAINCHILD
  • Dr. Eric Perry’s Blog
  • Bombay Ficus
  • Harmony Books & Films, LLC
  • Facets of a Muse
  • Myths of the Mirror
  • Ailish Sinclair
  • Book 'Em, Jan O
  • The Godly Chic Diaries
  • Staci Troilo
  • The Observation Post
  • From the Pen of Mae Clair

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

The Bump and Grind of Daily Life

Thoughts courtesy of Dee's brain.

Entertaining Stories

Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.

Hollywood Genes

🌸 Zoe K Blogs about Old Hollywood and Genealogy 🌸

Hannes van Eeden

LIVING THE DREAM

FOR A NEW TOMORROW

Sharing

Happiness Between Tails by da-AL

Writing/Tales + Tails + Culture + Compassion

Edge of Humanity Magazine

An Independent Non-Discriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations

BRAINCHILD

gehadsjourney.wordpress.com

Dr. Eric Perry’s Blog

Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

Bombay Ficus

Running, Writing, Real Life Experiences & Relatable Content.

Harmony Books & Films, LLC

Tired of being ordinary, then here are some tips for becoming extraordinary.

Facets of a Muse

Examining the guiding genius of writers everywhere

Myths of the Mirror

Life is make believe, fantasy given form

Ailish Sinclair

Stories and photos from Scotland

Book 'Em, Jan O

Ghosts, Tall Tales & Witty Haiku!

The Godly Chic Diaries

BY GRACE THROUGH FAITH

Staci Troilo

Character-Driven Fiction/Pulse-Pounding Plots

The Observation Post

mistermuse, half-poet and half-wit

From the Pen of Mae Clair

Mystery and Suspense, Folklore and Legends

The Bump and Grind of Daily Life

Thoughts courtesy of Dee's brain.

Entertaining Stories

Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.

Hollywood Genes

🌸 Zoe K Blogs about Old Hollywood and Genealogy 🌸

Hannes van Eeden

LIVING THE DREAM

FOR A NEW TOMORROW

Sharing

Happiness Between Tails by da-AL

Writing/Tales + Tails + Culture + Compassion

Edge of Humanity Magazine

An Independent Non-Discriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations

BRAINCHILD

gehadsjourney.wordpress.com

Dr. Eric Perry’s Blog

Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

Bombay Ficus

Running, Writing, Real Life Experiences & Relatable Content.

Harmony Books & Films, LLC

Tired of being ordinary, then here are some tips for becoming extraordinary.

Facets of a Muse

Examining the guiding genius of writers everywhere

Myths of the Mirror

Life is make believe, fantasy given form

Ailish Sinclair

Stories and photos from Scotland

Book 'Em, Jan O

Ghosts, Tall Tales & Witty Haiku!

The Godly Chic Diaries

BY GRACE THROUGH FAITH

Staci Troilo

Character-Driven Fiction/Pulse-Pounding Plots

The Observation Post

mistermuse, half-poet and half-wit

From the Pen of Mae Clair

Mystery and Suspense, Folklore and Legends

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • historyfanforever
    • Join 134 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • historyfanforever
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    %d bloggers like this: