Courageous Women * Supportive Men * Helpful Angels Angels Along the River is an inspirational story of hope, fear, joy and accomplishment that is a testament to the incredible tenacity and spirit of ordinary people everywhere. When Eleanor Lahr read Follow the River, a novel based upon the true experiences of Mary Draper Ingles, it changed her life. Mary was captured in 1755 by Shawnee Indians and carried 500 miles from her home. Eleanor felt inexplicably compelled to retrace Mary's escape route. With little previous experience in the great outdoors, but with plucky courage, she planned and trained extensively. Sometimes alone and sometimes with strangers, she hiked for 43 days along the Ohio, Kanawha, and New Rivers. Misunderstandings and ingrained prejudice challenged the band of walkers as much as Mother Nature; however, angels in everyday clothes helped them overcome their personal limitations, bloody blisters, broken bones, and life-threatening situations. Eleanor and her companions carried Mary's courageous story from Kentucky to Virginia in their own remarkable feat of determination and achievement. As an act of self-preservation Eleanor did not understand initially, her physical journey became a transformative personal journey that redefined her as a capable, strong, and independent woman. "The inspiration is contagious and it affects us all in different ways . . . Eleanor's book is another carrier of the inspiration". James Alexander Thom, author of the best-seller Follow the River
Angels Along the River
Retracing the Escape Route of Mary Draper InglesBy E. M. LahrAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 E. M. Lahr
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4567-6417-3Contents
The Dream..............................................xviThe Plan...............................................xixDay 1. Beginnings......................................1Day 2. Detours.........................................6Day 3. Sag Wagons......................................14Day 4. Endurance.......................................20Day 5. Gossip and Gift s...............................23Day 6. Rich or Poor....................................27Day 7. The Mayor.......................................29Day 8. Old Women.......................................35Day 9. Fear and Trust..................................39Day 10. Grandparents...................................43Day 11. Touching Back..................................47Day 12. Mothers and Daughters..........................51Day 13. Naughty 'n' Nice...............................55Day 14. An Unremarkable Day............................58Day 15. Politics and Parties...........................62Day 16. Connections....................................65Day 17. Sunshine and Storm Clouds......................69Day 18. Love...........................................79Day 19. The Pleasant Point.............................87Day 20. Fathers........................................90Day 21. Impressions....................................95Day 22. Breaking Bread.................................98Day 23. Religion.......................................102Day 24. History Lessons................................107Day 25. Repeating and Resisting........................111Day 26. America's Finest...............................115Day 27. Equipment and Training.........................119Day 28. Reporters......................................122Day 29. Tensions.......................................126Day 30. Breaks.........................................130Day 31. Attitudes......................................136Day 32. Disappointments and Hope.......................140Day 33. Searches.......................................143Day 34. The Protector..................................145Day 35. Rainbows and Promises..........................148Day 36. Waterfalls and River Rides.....................152Day 37. Surprising Abilities...........................154Day 38. The Children...................................158Day 39. Culling........................................161Day 40. The Antagonist.................................165Day 41. Cold...........................................171Day 42. Friends and Neighbors..........................174Day 43. Endings........................................178Homecomings (The Afterward)............................183Postscript.............................................187The Begats.............................................191A Partial List of Angels...............................195Eating Along the River.................................204Acknowledgements.......................................209
Chapter One
Day 1 Saturday, September 26, 1987 Big Bone Lick to Petersburg, Kentucky
Beginnings
Curled in a ball, I shivered as cold, damp air crept in among the blanket folds and down my neck. Each time I rose to consciousness, I thought how anxious Mary and Ghetel must have been in the sleepless hours before their escape. No more planning. No more training. This was the real thing.
I wouldn't need Janette's travel alarm to wake me—I slept hardly a wink. It was still pitch black when I decided I'd had enough tossing and turning. The light from a small Maglite eased that awkward dressing- while-sitting one does in a tent. I fumbled into jeans and T-shirt, then stumbled out and picked my way across frosty grass to the deserted shower house.
Ah-h-h. The caress of warm water flowing over a naked body. Only 42 days to go without another real shower or bath. It is amazing how special ordinary things become when you think they may be the last. Deliberately, I pulled on a yellow GIRL SCOUTS DON'T LIVE BY COOKIES ALONE T-shirt that was left over from my days as a Girl Scout leader. I liked the message and the Girl Scouts, even if the bigwigs had declined my request.
Trying to save my hiking boots (from what I haven't the foggiest idea), I put on an old pair of Aigners. Wet grass soon soaked through both shoes and socks. My feet were freezing. Idiot! Moisture is one of the prime causes of blisters. In over 400 training miles around my hometown of Bloomington, Indiana, I had never done anything like this. Now, on Day 1, before taking one step, I do something truly stupid. It was not a good beginning.
My two-daughter support crew, Janette and Lisa, struggled to start the Coleman stove while I shivered in the early morning chill. A rosy- pink sun began its climb in a clear blue sky. Good hiking weather. Bacon and eggs slid down easily and began warming my innards. But it took forever to heat water for coffee. While waiting, the girls covered Janette's homemade, cream-cheese, pecan coffeecake with candles. (Though not all 51.) Then, ever so softly, for it appeared we were the only campers awake on the hill, they sang "Happy Birthday, Mom."
Hands on the clock inched toward 7:00. I couldn't give the clock up yet because I had told several people I'd leave between 7:30 and 8:00. I had to be on time, and time was slipping away. The girls were tense. In an effort to reduce the strain, I walked to the edge of the hill. As I looked at the sun-drenched sky, my project became pitifully insignificant when compared with the wonder of a sunrise and the miracle of Mary's accomplishment.
Understanding the real risks of this trip, the night before, I had written a farewell letter to my children, attached a copy of the song "It's My Turn," and cried my tears. Now, on the brink of a final good-bye, I wanted desperately to be close to them. But it wasn't working. Son John was in Indianapolis and son Jerry in California. Janette and Lisa were physically near, but emotionally distant. Through shivers, sniffles, and strangled sobs, I whispered a gut-wrenching plea, "God ... It's almost here ... Please, help me...."
Debbie and I had planned to meet in the campground the previous night. However, arriving after dark, the girls and I couldn't find the campsite the park reserved for us. A quick search in the morning and still no Debbie. In three weeks of marathon telephone conversations, she sounded enthusiastic. However, she canceled every joint training hike we had planned. If Debbie was late, I would leave without her. This was one activity in which I refused to act as someone's mother. Come, follow the rules, take care of yourself, and keep up was all I asked. I wondered how many of the people I had talked to would actually show up.
Seven o'clock and still no boiling water. Park manager Bob Lindy expected me to be at the shelter at seven and leave between seven-thirty and eight. I was not where I had said I would be. As I paced around camp, my nervous tension was showing. Intuitive Lisa offered to stay and break camp. A last check for Mary's essentials: hatchet, blanket and belt, and mine: money, Mace, and MasterCard, then Janette drove me down to the shelter.
A small crowd greeted us. Randy and Linda Barlow, friends formerly from Bloomington, now lived a few miles from the park. Brend a Hartman, the teacher who would walk the first two days and who had arranged permission for us to camp...
