She Said, "Such Is Life In the Far, Far West!"

Although I called her Aunt Blanche, like my mom did, she was really a great aunt to me. The youngest of nine children, she was raised in Kinder, Louisiana. Her dad raised horses and while her sisters stayed in the house to help with housework and needlework, and her brothers worked outdoors, Blanche played on her own and went riding. At that time in the South women were only to ride side-saddle, but as soon as she was out of her parents' sight, Aunt Blanche rode astride, even in a skirt. She expected a tongue lashing when her strict father finally caught her in the act, but all he said was, "So you finally got smart!"

It is fitting that this blog is named in honor of Blanche's spirit. When life was unfair, confusing, or just plain boring, she would shrug her shoulders, sigh, and say in an offhand way, "Such is life in the far, far West." She could say that with authenticity since, in 1921, she and her husband, Jasper, had taken the two young children they had adopted and moved to the West, far from everything familiar to an unknown way of life. After traveling for days in an open train car, and the last miles from Weed on a flatbed car, they set up house in Tenement, California for a short time and then moved farther north to Klamath Falls, Oregon.

I wonder if the move was an adventure befitting her daring nature, or if she went because it was sensible, expected, or out of love. I suspect it was all of the above. Was she ever scared or lonely? Probably. It is nothing these days to relocate even farther from family than Blanche and Jasper did, but in the early 1900's the concept of a new beginning could also spell isolation. It was a gamble, and at times it was a hardship, but they made it work. In Louisiana families settled near each other on family settlements, but in Oregon they were alone and on their own. In Louisiana everyone took afternoon naps to avoid the muggy heat of the day, but in Oregon life went nonstop from dawn until dusk and the harsh winters were only rivaled by the hot, dry summers. But then, such is life in the far, far West.

Blanche did keep in touch with her family through letter writing and even made it back to Kinder at least once for a visit. In turn, one or two of her sisters and one brother eventually visited in Klamath Falls. Years later, Mom called one of the surviving sisters with word of Aunt Blanche's death and was told that she had just dreamed of her sitting on the edge of her bed and had visited with her for a long time. I suppose it was just a dream, but I can't help but believe that it was also a convenient medium for a headstrong girl, determined to say goodbye in her own way, to connect one more time. After all, I am sure that it was Aunt Blanche who woke me up that same night. Blanche teaches us that family ties are strong and that distance does not weaken those ties; that love gives us the wings to both follow our dreams as well as to find our way home; and that our spirits are strong and stubborn.