Chapter 1

The Journey (Day 25)

It was a late afternoon in March 1861.  The skies were gray; thunder; lightning and blinding rain followed our wagon most of the day as it meandered on the well-trodden Heritage Trail to Michigan.¹ The lonely howl of wind crisscrossed the wagon on the long ride from Zanesville, Ohio.  The adults as well as the children in our group soon learned “hanging tough” was as natural as drawing breath. 

In areas where the trail was rough, we walked ahead of the wagon and threw stones out of the way.  We cleared brush and put the limbs and brush over the muddy spots so the wheels of the wagon would not get stuck.  Yesterday the wagon sank six inches in the mired muck covering the wheel spokes.  It took us most of the day to dig out.  We could travel 10 to 15 miles on a good day.  If it was muddy or raining like it was today, we may only cover one mile in the whole day. 

More than half of the animals used to pull the wagons back then were oxen.  The ox was stronger than a horse or mule, required less grazing, and was useful as a farm animal when pioneers reached the end of their journey.  My Pa said an ox cost $25 in 1850, whereas, mules cost $75.  Mules were the second most popular animals and later horses replaced mules as the second choice for pulling wagons.

My pa, Jim Guy was a tall rugged looking man who always dressed in overalls and a work shirt made of red flannel and white striped cotton.  He was stout and tough.  Nobody messed with my pa.  I was the first-born child of Jim and Ann Mariah (Caliman) Guy.  My brother, Benjamin Franklin 13 years of age, my baby brother Douglas; my sisters Martha 10 years of age, and Minerva Ann 5 years of age, and me of course, made up our family.  My parents wanted to start a new life in Michigan.  My name is Oran, and I was 15 at the time of our journey.

Page -1-

Copyright © 2008. All rights reserved.