Donner Memorial Park

The name "Donner" is a bit infamous... but actually is a tragic and amazing story of survival. Ever heard of that Animal Planet series, "I Shouldn't be Alive?" It's got nothing on the series of unfortunate and ill-planned events that happened to this group of people.

Listening to, watching re-enactment videos, reading about this story once again... watching my children learn about this moment in history... re-emphasized the importance of not judging others until I've walked in their shoes... not saying, "I would've never done that!" without actually having been in the situation and not done that... because "there, but for the grace of God, go I..."

Some of the paintings in the museum were amazing...

This butterfly display captured our kids' attention for several minutes.

Waiting for the video to begin.

The "gang"

the memorial...

They say the snow that year was as deep as the stone pedestal part of the memorial... that's a lot of snow!

It was a sobering and informative morning... and then it was time for us
to start trekking east.

"Nope! That cathedral certainly ain't made of play-dough!"

One of my favorite "jobs" this past year working at Sahel Academy

was facilitating exploratory learning with a group of advanced 2nd and 3rd graders.

I think I've shared that in this space before.

Our last project of the year was, I believe, my absolute favorite.

The kids learned that to build a solid foundation, sometimes you have to dig deep and remove lots of rocks first.

They experienced how teamwork makes things that look impossible, possible.

They discovered that thinking about the objective sometimes helps you come up with a better way to accomplish that goal.

They saw that there's often more than one way to solve a problem.

They learned to be creative with what was available.

And they dug in the sand and dirt, got sweaty and filthy, played with cement, made play and stacked play dough bricks, "discovered" bamboo reinforced play dough, built flying buttresses, arched windows and talked about how they'd create "stained glass" windows...

...all as they attempted to build their own cathedral. 

Alas, time got away from us... 

We ran into a few snafus (i.e. our cement wasn't a very good mortar for our homemade bricks), unbelievable hot (120' +) made working outside in the afternoons on the hill and in the sun very uncomfortable, a couple of shortened sessions due to end of the year activities, and Mrs. Wright's crazy schedule working over at the high school...

So we didn't finish our cathedral.

But we did get to take Jonathan to see a real one while passing through Paris!

He thought that was pretty super cool!

Westward ho! ~ @ the Washita National Battlefield Historic Site

A few years back, one of our girls was given the complete set of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman videos. We've since watched the series several times and one of the all time most compelling episodes, in our opinion, occurs at an Indian encampment on the banks of the Washita River.

This Day in History describes the events of November 27, 1868 like this: 

Without bothering to identify the village or do any reconnaissance, Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer leads an early morning attack on a band of peaceful Cheyenne living with Chief Black Kettle. 

Convicted of desertion and mistreatment of soldiers earlier that year in a military court, the government had suspended Custer from rank and command for one year. Ten months into his punishment, in September 1868, General Philip Sheridan reinstated Custer to lead a campaign against Cheyenne Indians who had been making raids in Kansas and Oklahoma that summer. Sheridan was frustrated by the inability of his other officers to find and engage the enemy, and despite his poor record and unpopularity with the men of the 7th Cavalry, Custer was a good fighter. 

Sheridan determined that a campaign in winter might prove more effective, since the Indians could be caught off guard while in their permanent camps. On November 26, Custer located a large village of Cheyenne encamped near the Washita River, just outside of present-day Cheyenne, Oklahoma. Custer did not attempt to identify which group of Cheyenne was in the village, or to make even a cursory reconnaissance of the situation. Had he done so, Custer would have discovered that they were peaceful people and the village was on reservation soil, where the commander of Fort Cobb had guaranteed them safety. There was even a white flag flying from one of the main dwellings, indicating that the tribe was actively avoiding conflict. 

Having surrounded the village the night before, at dawn Custer called for the regimental band to play "Garry Owen," which signaled for four columns of soldiers to charge into the sleeping village. Outnumbered and caught unaware, scores of Cheyenne were killed in the first 15 minutes of the "battle," though a small number of the warriors managed to escape to the trees and return fire. Within a few hours, the village was destroyed--the soldiers had killed 103 Cheyenne, including the peaceful Black Kettle and many women and children. 

Hailed as the first substantial American victory in the Indian wars, the Battle of the Washita helped to restore Custer's reputation and succeeded in persuading many Cheyenne to move to the reservation. However, Custer's habit of boldly charging Indian encampments of unknown strength would eventually lead him to his death at the Battle of the Little Bighorn.

The dimensional, topographical map at the museum also details the events of that day. I think Jonathan must have read every word, soaking in the history. (If you can't make out the words, click on each individual photo. It should make the photo much larger.) 

We also found the quotes, pictures, paintings and video (with re-enactment) sobering and sad...

It leaves me wondering in what areas we are equally blind today -

 even when we're sure we're in the right...

I don't think our family is the only one that has every wondered, asking those sorts of questions?

Have you?

Five Minute Friday ~ Story

We who live in this blogging world? We like to tell stories.

It is almost therapeutic for me to share the story of my family and of me -

to make sure someone gets a glimpse of us, from the inside out.

We who live in a missionary world? We also like to tell stories.

On home assignment, we'll spend much of the next year telling our story

of the last three years.

But I'm starting to think I spend far too much time on my story 

and the stories of my family 

and scripting out my storied thoughts...

What if I made a better effort to listen and hear their stories...

Are they sisters?

Are they widows?

Do they like their work, frying bean fritters and selling them to passersby every morning?

Did they have enough food to fill their bellies last night?

Are they employees of this boutique?

Or might one of them be the owner?

Or are these simply the guys who come to hang out and visit and drink for hour after hour?

Do they have wives? Were their marriages arranged or did they have a say?

What's he stock in his refrigerator?

Can he afford to keep it running? Or is it a slightly deceptive armoir to store some of his products for sale?

Each picture evokes questions, questions I wonder if I should have taken the time to ask.

When I spend time listening to and hearing the heart behind others' stories, maybe then I've earned the right to share my own.

Or better yet, maybe then, I'll have an opportunity to share 

the best-est, 

real-est,

most wonderful-est

and important 

story of all...

His Story.

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Head on over to Lisa Jo's to read the rules and then please join our gang!

I want to hear your story!