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We arrived around lunchtime. The wagon train was already camped in a park some six blocks beyond Ehman Park. By now, it was sunny and warm but the fierce wind was blowing dust everywhere. We bought lunch from the Mormons in the park pavilion and ate outside on a picnic table under a lovely shade tree. We were told we could drive through the encampment and search for the Shermans.
An elderly man pointed to a man getting water for his horses. “There’s their wagon and there he is now,” he said. “You’ll be better for meeting him.”
I went over and introduced myself to Floyd Sherman, sixty-one, who was definitely surprised to see someone from back home. He showed me his two small ponies, Crystal and Crisco, and the small, non-authentic, rubber-tired, three-by-seven-foot wagon he had built for the journey. Traveling with them was grandson Kevin, who would celebrate his ninth birthday on the trail in about three weeks. They had joined the train in Grand Island, Nebraska, but planned to stop 450 miles later in Fort Laramie, Wyoming and return home for another grandson’s high school graduation. Just then, his wife Dawn pulled up.
Anne asked Dawn where she grew up.
“In a little town in upstate New York you probably never heard of,” she replied, “Otego.”
“Otego!” exclaimed Anne, “I graduated from Otego High School in 1958. There were only twenty-eight students in the entire graduating class.” It turns out Anne and Dawn were high school friends who hadn’t seen each other for thirty-nine years!
Dawn beamed. “Floyd and I are celebrating our fortieth anniversary a week from today. Although our real anniversary was April 20, we wanted to celebrate “happy trails” in a big way!”
So for the next two hours, in the middle of a Nebraskan campground, these two former classmates held a high school reunion, catching up on old times and the whereabouts of fellow classmates. I took several photos to remember the occasion. At last, however, we had to part and go our separate ways. Truly, it had been a miraculous day, a day to remember, a day on the trail for which we will always give thanks.
Sadly, that wasn’t the end of the story. On July 3, 1997, just three weeks after they'd arrived home, Floyd died of a stroke. At the funeral Floyd’s son, Phil, took the seats out of their little covered wagon and helped load the casket. Henry Sherman, who was Floyd’s brother, and Kevin gave “Grandpa” his last ride up to the cemetery. Dawn later called this photo I took (right) their “fortieth anniversary” photo.
P.S.—While still on the wagon train, Dawn got Kevin to promise he’d join the bicentennial Mormon Trail Wagon Train. Kevin was aghast by the fact that he would be fifty-nine years old by then, the same age as Grandma. Somehow, I think he’ll be there.
– excerpted from Whither thou Goest © 2001,
by Patrick Simpson (www.booksbypatricksimpson.com)
This blog dedicated to the memory of Annette Cherie White.
In lieu of flowers, please make donations online for her young family at Friends of Annette II.
In 1982, my daughter Patricia went to Kenya as a volunteer with Operation Crossroads Africa (OCA). In 1997, my daughter Diana followed suit and volunteered with the Peace Corps in Chad, Africa. It was a life-changing experience for both.
Were the experiences surreal? Yes. Did they struggle? Yes. Did they see the world in a whole new way? Yes.
And I'm incredibly proud of both of them.
They'd heard the clarion call of service. And – perhaps inspired by the words of President John F. Kennedy – they'd declared to themselves, "Other people see things and say 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say: 'Why not?'"
American clergyman and humanitarian Dr. James Herman Robinson, while on a three-month trip to Africa in 1954, saw great opportunities for young Americans to help young Africans in need at the grassroots level.
Based on the belief that one can truly enter another culture only by living and working in it, by 1958, he'd established Operation Crossroads Africa (OCA), which aimed to "build bridges of friendship to Africa" by giving volunteers opportunities to serve. Now in its 55th year, the OCA has sent over 11,000 persons to more than 53 countries to establish teacher training programs and to help build water systems, schools, clinics, and orphanages in countless villages. The organization's motto is "make a difference for others, see the difference in yourself."
Instead of just asking himself "Why?" Dr. Robinson had taken it upon himself to find solutions by asking "Why not?"
Inspired by Dr. Robinson, President Kennedy, in his inaugural address on January 20, 1961, famously said, "Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country." With Congress's passage of the Peace Corps Act on September 21, his Peace Corps became fully authorized.
His words had stirred a nation into action. Not only had they launched the race to the moon, but they had become the inspiration for the Peace Corps. Since 1961, over 210,000 Americans have joined the Peace Corps, volunteering in 139 countries by providing technical assistance and by helping foreigners and Americans understand each other's cultures.
Kennedy, too, had dreamed of things that never were, and had said, "Why not?"
I, too, have a dream. On this 50th anniversary of JFK's death, my thoughts are with my "friends," the special needs children at Frankie Lemmon School in Raleigh, North Carolina.
What are "special needs"?
"Special needs are commonly defined by what a child can't do -- by milestones unmet, foods banned, activities avoided, experiences denied. These minuses hit families hard, and may make "special needs" seem like a tragic designation. Some parents will always mourn their child's lost potential, and many conditions become more troubling with time. Other families may find that their child's challenges make triumphs sweeter, and that weaknesses are often accompanied by amazing strengths." — Terri Mauro
Two famous examples of "special needs children" who reached full potential come to mind: Albert Einstein, famed physicist; and Temple Grandin, listed by Time magazine in 2010 as one of the 100 most influential people in the world. Each had amazing strengths
The mission of Frankie Lemmon has "remained unchanged for 48 years…to help preschool and kindergarten children with special needs achieve their full potential." Eligible children, ages 3-6, rich or poor, can attend the school tuition free, thanks to generous private donations that provide 60 percent of the school's operating funds. (The state provides 40 percent.)
Although my friends are extremely fortunate to have such wonderful teachers and staff to help them reach their full potential, there are many more children who cannot get in.
Why?
The answer is simple; there are more requests from parents than the school has openings, and more demands for additional grades. Due to the rise in developmental delays and disabilities, the school has seen an unprecedented demand for their services – and all indicators are saying the problem is only going to get bigger. But the school can't add staff until they have more space. Without additional space, they are unable to hire additional therapists and provide more therapy services.
So, our school has special needs of its own, and the waiting list will continue to grow — unless each one of us can answer the same relevant questions President Kennedy asked us some 50 years ago:
"Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country."
"Other people see things and say 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say: 'Why not?'"
— "Mr. Pat" Simpson, volunteer
Charlie: "Grandpa, how did this town become a ghost town?"
Me: "When it died."
Charlie: "How did it die?"
Me: "Charlie, everything was just fine here until about 80 years ago. That's when they built a railroad to Heppner rather than to Hardman. The last business closed in 1968 and almost everyone moved away."
This was my third visit over the years to the ghost town of Hardman, Oregon, where my ancestors once lived. It was daughter Diana's first, as well as 4-year-old grandson Charlie's.
But first, however, we'd visited nearby Heppner and the wonderful Morrow County Museum, where I'd met old-timer Bob Lovgren. Not only had he shown me some artifacts from my family's history, he'd known them all: the Simpsons, the Bechdolts, even the Merrills!
Some of them are buried in Heppner, so before we left for Hardman, we drove high atop South Hill to Heppner Cemetery, where we got a bird's eye view of Heppner and Willow Creek Lake. 
At last we drove to Hardman, about a half-hour drive over very barren land. It was a desolate, isolated land full of high rolling hills with no trees. There we photographed each other in front of the deserted houses.
Me: "No Charlie. If you look around, there are 3 or 4 squatters in some of them. They've moved in, much like Hermit crabs move into deserted shells."
The rest of our folks were buried about four miles out Hardman Ridge Road in the IOOF Hardman Cemetery. My wife Anne and I found it only six years ago, after a book-signing event in Milton-Freewater, after nearly giving up the search. After all, ghosts aren't good on giving directions. It was then that we met a nice couple backing out of their driveway, the only humans for miles. We pulled up and hailed them.
"Excuse me folks," I asked, "could you direct us to the cemetery?"
"I'll take you there," said the man. "I'm the caretaker. Follow us."
We couldn't believe our good fortune. Follow them we did!
Turns out the cemetery was barely visible on a hill behind the now-vacant TREO hunting lodge. The couple, Bob and Judy Stevens, were so kind, so accommodating. Anne stayed with Judy while Bob took me on a walking tour of the cemetery to meet my long-dead relatives. Like Mr. Lovgren back in Heppner, Bob had also grown up with them and had known them all.
We found Cora Simpson's father-in-law, Thomas J. Merrill and his wife Eudora. Cora's sister Jennie and her husband, William W. Bechdolt were here, along with Archie and Adrian, their two sons.
We had followed Justus all the way across America. Justus had followed his sister Mary Jane. Mary Jane had followed her husband Theo. And Theo had followed his dream – to settle in the West. Still others followed by the thousands. Nothing, not even the deaths of over two hundred people in a horrible flood, deterred any of them them from their dream.
Bob said they'd read about us in the newspaper but never expected us to show up in their driveway! (By the way, Bob is in the Blue Mountain Old-Time Fiddlers Association and plays a mean fiddle!). They were an unforgettable couple.
And today was an unforgettable day. Diana and I were trying to get over the recent death of her brother, my son David. And Anne had died only six months ago.
"Grandpa, I'm hungry!" said Charlie.
"We are too, sweetie."
If we wanted anything to eat, it would have to be somewhere else. It was a long and winding road back to Walla Walla.
2 Samuel 12:23 – "But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” (King David speaking of his infant son who died)
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