tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311364487936180652024-03-06T22:33:25.884-07:00 Colorado Reflections Central Colorado History -
Christison Family ConnectionsGayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.comBlogger122125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-81517232513953570822020-06-29T15:14:00.004-06:002020-08-11T10:49:36.274-06:00Learning the Craft of Writing Fiction<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0P1GqYNUAQFUxjH2ArgoSQ1grIzFVrG0wmwkfMbmYiaBG_j45jX-PByC3h0tugqHPndCvcDE3d_6ZbByylS9W8wRaTpdvebg7wx33-xLVJlgKugsPvQToJqF4foM_WhQrzrHKjyv2XenN/s1600/Ernest+Christison%2527s+Land+5+Rick+Mountain.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0P1GqYNUAQFUxjH2ArgoSQ1grIzFVrG0wmwkfMbmYiaBG_j45jX-PByC3h0tugqHPndCvcDE3d_6ZbByylS9W8wRaTpdvebg7wx33-xLVJlgKugsPvQToJqF4foM_WhQrzrHKjyv2XenN/s400/Ernest+Christison%2527s+Land+5+Rick+Mountain.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first view of Virgil Ernest Christison's Rick Mountain Ranch in 2008.</td></tr>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">It’s been a while since I’ve blogged about writing the
cattle rustling book. I started writing the book in 2007. Over the years, I’ve
shared the changes on this blog – nonfiction to creative nonfiction to historical fiction.<br /><br />
I began writing the book as historical fiction on July 7, 2011. Yes, nine years
ago. Friends and family have a hard time understanding why the book isn’t
written by now. The reason? Writing historical fiction is hard. And it is a
process. The facts and events had to become STORY. The people had to become
characters, characters with emotion and motives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">The book I am writing now is very different from the book I
was writing nine years ago. I am glad I didn’t rush it. And happy I didn’t give
up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Last November, I joined five other writers in a workshop series with Page Lambert at Mount Vernon Club in the mountains west of
Denver. We met monthly for five months. COVID-19 hit in the middle of this. We
had one meeting by Zoom and had our final workshop yesterday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">When I started the workshop, I thought I’d start at point A
and be well on my way with a finished book by the end. Yes, my perfectionist
tendencies kicked in. Instead, I shared chapter one at the first workshop, but
Page suggested starting with an earlier event mentioned in the chapter. So, by
the next workshop I had another chapter one. And this repeated two more
workshops. I now have four new chapter ones, but really they are the first four
chapters of my book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Working backwards was not my intention when I started the
workshop. But by working backwards, I gained a better understanding of the
story. Events I thought I could summarize became their own scenes. And by
settling into the story, new motives came to light. I now have a good, solid
beginning for the book with an inciting incident that puts into motion all of
the events of the story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Page Lambert taught me how to write fiction. I’ve always
been able write action scenes that gallop along. What I am not so good at is
writing description and inner dialogue. Page’s workshops helped me learn how to
do that with input from the other writers. I have also learned I can take a messy draft and reorganize and
rewrite it. One of my biggest fears. Mostly, I have learned to trust myself as
a writer. I have good instincts. I have good intuition. And, I am a good
writer. Today I am reveling in this knowledge. It feels good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">My advice to those writing a book – don’t give up. Learn
your craft and never, ever read your writing when you are emotionally tired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Below are blog posts I've written about my journey of writing this book:</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2007/08/ernest-christison-cattle-rustler.html" target="_blank">Ernest Christison - Cattle Rustler</a></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2009/07/research-is-done-its-time-to-write.html" target="_blank">Research is Done! It's Time to Write!</a> (And yes, I have to laugh about this 2009 post. Still finding new information 11 years later!)</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2011/07/switching-from-nonfiction-to-fiction.html" target="_blank">Switching from Nonfiction to Fiction</a></span><br />
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2015/01/part-1-circling-and-story-round-up.html" target="_blank">Circling and Story Round-Up</a></span><br />
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2015/01/part-2-circling-and-story-round-up-in.html" target="_blank">Part 2 Circling and Story Round-Up </a></span><br />
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<span face="" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2017/04/step-into-river.html" target="_blank">Step Into The River</a></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-19679780103810508772020-04-01T13:02:00.001-06:002020-04-01T13:15:58.288-06:00The Pioneer Lode Prospecting Company<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BVXju6in2cBjTm416v6uoO1EgneLUNrqArWdfZp3bMrgl89Cjsm2aSvFdXqyZl-5PLNcKFeYOpga81PCCco8d0iIj-FfnToc2MfP3F-55sej8YZwJtJhwbrgB9vBDFTIjwG5OGYuk1TP/s1600/P1150485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BVXju6in2cBjTm416v6uoO1EgneLUNrqArWdfZp3bMrgl89Cjsm2aSvFdXqyZl-5PLNcKFeYOpga81PCCco8d0iIj-FfnToc2MfP3F-55sej8YZwJtJhwbrgB9vBDFTIjwG5OGYuk1TP/s400/P1150485.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNVzW-by9THxnQC_8DVYEhWjiNSOb7_A16_dHPDX9x4ARhxQYQVpeK4e4HFRrBJL5xK2OBkY0LITdmIuNqXSGOwD9Ih3FfYj6HjbF0YRVMb5wl0YTcjZgu56rsv_3KgrQzGgJlP6TbAxX/s1600/P1150486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNVzW-by9THxnQC_8DVYEhWjiNSOb7_A16_dHPDX9x4ARhxQYQVpeK4e4HFRrBJL5xK2OBkY0LITdmIuNqXSGOwD9Ih3FfYj6HjbF0YRVMb5wl0YTcjZgu56rsv_3KgrQzGgJlP6TbAxX/s400/P1150486.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>My great-great-grandfather, Wilburn Christison, formed a mining company with Father Dyer and eight other men in 1864. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In 2006, I sat in Leadville in the Lake County Courthouse looking through mining records and I ran across the articles of incorporation for the Pioneer Lode Prospecting Company. I still remember the shock of seeing the name "John L. Dyer" in the same list as my great-great-grandfather's name.<br /><br />For those of you not familiar with Father Dyer, he came to Colorado in 1861, the same year as Wilburn Christison and his family. Father Dyer was an itinerant Methodist preacher. He also carried mail from Buckskin Joe over Mosquito Pass to the mining camp of Cash Creek, where several of the men in this mining company lived, including Wilburn Christison. Father Dyer is considered one of 16 Founding Fathers of Colorado. His portrait in stained glass is in the Colorado State Capitol building. For more information about Father Dyer, see this <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Lewis_Dyer" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>.<br /><br />The ten men in the Pioneer Lode Prospecting Company each put up $100 in shares giving the company $1,000 in operating capital to sink shafts in two discovery claims - the Elisabeth Jessie Johnston and the Star Gold Quartz lode - in the Hope, Granite and Clear Creek mining districts. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here is a list of the ten men:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wilburn Christison, Galatia Sprague, R. Mat Johnston, William Snyder, Henry C. Justice, Sullivan D. Breece, Patrick Smith, John Burnett, Charles Hilton, and John L. Dyer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of these men, Sullivan D. Breece had the most successful mining operation. He later owned the Breece Iron Mine at Leadville and Breece Hill is named after him. I also found some mining claims that Breece and Christison discovered together.<br /><br />For more information about the men in the Pioneer Lode Mining Company, see the book <i>Rush To The Rockies!</i> published by the Pikes Peak Library District. I wrote a paper about "The Cash Creek Miners and the Lake County War" which is included in this book. You might notice that the names in this Pioneer Lode list also show up ten years later in accounts of the Lake County War. </span></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-42873270583717389722020-02-10T15:58:00.000-07:002020-02-10T16:00:08.590-07:00Christison Connections to the Hutchinson Family and Ranch<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXPVlNjrx_TvLDbi15zsSbfTBTDQg-Y_EHsWUYPLp-EDHeN6XO__JEoivsXqV0qp8OGr5tDQCFjk99iSJsHVKkG6CdDc9LDWpjEOcjbESTZjVLGPclUzka9doxAHWaK9SCu9qlwubvQav/s1600/Hutchinson+House.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1494" data-original-width="1038" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXPVlNjrx_TvLDbi15zsSbfTBTDQg-Y_EHsWUYPLp-EDHeN6XO__JEoivsXqV0qp8OGr5tDQCFjk99iSJsHVKkG6CdDc9LDWpjEOcjbESTZjVLGPclUzka9doxAHWaK9SCu9qlwubvQav/s320/Hutchinson+House.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hutchinson House in 1982 (Photo by Ken Christison)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've had several people ask exactly how my Christison family is related to the Hutchinson family since the Colorado Experience episode on the ranch aired. (Click on this link to view the show </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4lkYEr_cRQM" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">The Hutchinson Homestead and Ranch</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">.)The answer is there is no family relation. But there are a few connections that explain my interest in the Hutchinson Ranch.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI0V2rM6vz-kGq-p9ZKa-yk_q_DqdOfZ_1946Q5RcO6Iauxbx0I6xZUtGJTcxqaz32cksCvZ2G8Xc01HdM9ge4HULl9Glxz7u06DLqRcG1rCwr_JFQIvPY4t-gNOKDZ_6b1ePJiGodCF3p/s1600/Wilburn%252520%2526%252520Elizabeth%252520Christison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="767" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI0V2rM6vz-kGq-p9ZKa-yk_q_DqdOfZ_1946Q5RcO6Iauxbx0I6xZUtGJTcxqaz32cksCvZ2G8Xc01HdM9ge4HULl9Glxz7u06DLqRcG1rCwr_JFQIvPY4t-gNOKDZ_6b1ePJiGodCF3p/s320/Wilburn%252520%2526%252520Elizabeth%252520Christison.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wilburn and Elizabeth Christison (from the Betty Regnier Collection)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My great-great-grandparents, Wilburn and Elizabeth Christison, arrived in the mining camp of Cash Creek in 1861 after crossing Kansas with team of oxen and a covered wagon along with their six children. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Joseph Hutchinson took a job in Cash Creek in 1866 as the superintendent of the Bailey and Gaff mining company. Joseph was twelve years younger than Wilburn Christison. In 1868, Hutchinson joined Bailey and Gaff in a cattle company with the headquarters at the Hutchinson ranch near Poncha Springs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />Wilburn Christison also moved his family down the Arkansas Valley. There is a mention of him living in Adobe Park in 1867. And Arthur Hutchinson wrote that "Christison was on the present Hutchinson ranch for a short time."</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFPlH50nalHewvMBuj0NEweR-SGsXjVskRFLMsGhAUr3Xf0lSnbDVz6BTQO5mIWl-yEuikrrzC1BNjWeFA3ryvrcJU7iM_mq8lHDgWlKGNHrNY4AFYYMX8hBhSST3GhF_YV0G8AhgWAth/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFPlH50nalHewvMBuj0NEweR-SGsXjVskRFLMsGhAUr3Xf0lSnbDVz6BTQO5mIWl-yEuikrrzC1BNjWeFA3ryvrcJU7iM_mq8lHDgWlKGNHrNY4AFYYMX8hBhSST3GhF_YV0G8AhgWAth/s320/026.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The McPherson cabin moved from Cash Creek</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When the Hutchinsons settled on the ranch, they disassembled the cabin Annabelle's parents had at Cash Creek and moved it to the ranch. I was fascinated to see this cabin and have a better idea of what my great-great-grandparents' cabin may have been like at Cash Creek.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">According to Joseph Hutchinson's ledgers in the book, <i>Under The Angel of Shavano</i>, he paid Leslie Christison (Wilburn's oldest son) $67 for work done in mining.<br /><br />And, in September of 1875, Hutchinson bought two steers from Walker Sprague and Ernest Christison (Wilburn's second son).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />Wilburn Christison and Joseph Hutchinson were both active in the Democratic party. Wilburn was elected the Lake County Judge and later the Park County Judge. Joseph Hutchinson served in the Colorado Territorial Legislature.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And they both died in 1882. Wilburn passed away at the age of 54 on February 7, 1882 in Fairplay after a bout of pneumonia. And Joseph Hutchinson passed away on May 16, 1882 from a brain tumor at the age of 42. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1O9mOpUSwqYhF_Sg9BHikE5WxltxOhmSGksekTB98m659iYsPwrXATycnyzgWc7viu6AfnOlLfAZjFU_OIy3qJKban6HpQtFGbe_tt1HusUpEyfDibOvPQra0VPMNTyGWSFY7uana1due/s1600/Poncha+School+Honor+Roll+12-23-1882.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="345" data-original-width="457" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1O9mOpUSwqYhF_Sg9BHikE5WxltxOhmSGksekTB98m659iYsPwrXATycnyzgWc7viu6AfnOlLfAZjFU_OIy3qJKban6HpQtFGbe_tt1HusUpEyfDibOvPQra0VPMNTyGWSFY7uana1due/s320/Poncha+School+Honor+Roll+12-23-1882.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dec. 23, 1882 Mountain Mail (Colorado Historic Newspapers)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wilburn's widow, Elizabeth Christison, moved back to Poncha Springs with her two youngest sons following his death. I discovered that when I found this newspaper article on the Poncha Springs school honor roll that includes my great-grandfather, Lewis Christision, and his brother Charlie. Also listed are Arthur, Bailey and Harold Hutchinson.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Did Elizabeth live in the Christison cabin? The cabin Arthur mentioned was on land near the Hutchinson ranch that Annabelle bought in 1916, included in today's Hutchinson ranch. I don't know. It is also possible Ernest Christison lived in the cabin at one time with his family.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8hGUT0cWbBDXc476L5yN6F1VNnE-igpFqGawgSrrHhb6nt0b89CpgOXN6FQfK7Bsjlv9MhFBeoBy5iZB9CMLuNESfKVAvhyphenhyphen9QVrxmUJURc4TYrFU4Hmha-1ZrEftefebntm_9EvaYEX1/s1600/Christison+cabin+site+with+Dr.+Hutchinson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1042" data-original-width="1437" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8hGUT0cWbBDXc476L5yN6F1VNnE-igpFqGawgSrrHhb6nt0b89CpgOXN6FQfK7Bsjlv9MhFBeoBy5iZB9CMLuNESfKVAvhyphenhyphen9QVrxmUJURc4TYrFU4Hmha-1ZrEftefebntm_9EvaYEX1/s320/Christison+cabin+site+with+Dr.+Hutchinson.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Site of the Christison Cabin. Dr. Wendell Hutchinson with Connie Christison, John Gresham and Gayle Christison</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In 1982, I wrote a research paper for my high school Colorado history class on my outlaw relative, Ernest Christison. My parents and my boyfriend, John Gresham, went to visit Dr. Wendell Hutchinson, who wrote <i>Under The Angel of Shavano</i> with George Everett. He took us to several places talking about the history. And he showed us the location of "the Christison cabin." What a wonderful memory it is to recall visiting with Dr. Hutchinson! His stories and taking us to places related to the Christison history made my interest in my family history and Colorado history come alive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I spoke with Dr. Hutchinson one more time when I decided to write a book about Ernest Christison and Ed Watkins. I was told he could hear better over the phone at that time, so we had a telephone conversation. I wish I could talk to him again now that I know so much more from my research.<br /><br />In 2018, I met his son, Art Hutchinson, and we visited about our family histories and more. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gayle Gresham and Art Hutchinson</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-67987961195800300942019-09-19T14:39:00.000-06:002019-09-19T15:01:51.413-06:00A Visit To The Old Park County Courthouse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is the staircase in the old Park County Courthouse in Fairplay where my great-great-grandfather, Wilburn Christison, was the Park County Judge from 1873-1882. I love running my hand over the banister, imagining Wilburn's hand gliding over it as he walked up the stairs to court. I can almost hear his footsteps. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Judge Wilburn Christison</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gayle Gresham</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">At 54 years old, I am the same age as the Judge was when he succumbed to pneumonia on February 7, 1882. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtroom</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The courthouse is undergoing historic preservation and it is wonderful to see the improvements made. The wood floor was refinished and the windows are being restored. Visit this <a href="https://www.southparkheritage.org/old-courthouse" target="_blank">link</a> to see more about the preservation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This vault is in the county judge's office on the first floor. It was possibly installed in 1881 when three offices were created on the first floor, including the county judge's office. The vault is impressive!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I would like to thank Jennie Andrusin, Park County Projects and Grants Manager, for giving me and my friends a tour of the courthouse and the jail.<br /><br />And here is the <a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2007/07/fairplay-courthouse.html" target="_blank">link</a> to a post from when I visited the courthouse in 2007 before they started the restoration. </span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-7020664578079366532019-09-18T21:26:00.000-06:002019-09-19T12:03:11.601-06:00The Fairplay Jail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you know about the song I wrote, "Freedom in January," then you know the story of Ernest Christison breaking out of the Buena Vista jail with eleven other prisoners. But the Fairplay jail also plays a prominent part in the cattle rustling story.<br /><br />Ernest Christison was arrested by a group of South Park cattlemen at St. Elmo on the 6th of July in 1883. The cattlemen also arrested four others: Charlie Christison (Ernest's 14-year-old brother), Billy Taylor (Ernest's 21-year-old brother-in-law), John Taylor (Ernest's father-in-law) and John Meyer (who rode along with John Taylor when he delivered supplies). The cattlemen took their prisoners on a 3-day ride across South Park to Rocky, where a justice of peace bound the men over for trial. Then they were incarcerated in the Fairplay Jail. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />To make things even more interesting, Ernest and Charlie's father, Wilburn Christison, was the Park County Judge from 1872 until he died in 1882, the year before Ernest and the others were arrested. Ernest and Charlie spent time in their father's jail.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gayle Gresham, Laura Van Dusen, and Christie Wright</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I visited the Fairplay Jail behind the old Fairplay Courthouse today with two Park County authors, Christie Wright (South Park Perils) and Laura Van Dusen (Parked in the Past). Christie arranged for us to go into the jail, which isn't open to the public, with Jennie Andrusin, the Park County Project and Grants Manager. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There are two tiny cells in the jail, with places for 4 bunks in each. There would hardly be room to walk between the bunks if there were two on the other side.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Apparently, Buena Vista wasn't Christison's first attempt at a jail break. On March 18, 1884, a Fairplay prisoner broke out of jail using a small saw that Ernest Christison had used to saw away at one of the bars. While Christison was unsuccessful, Byard cut away a 10" x 16" hole to crawl through and escape. Byard also sawed under the cover of a fiddler who played every night after supper. (This story is told on page 55 of Christie Wright's book, South Park Perils.)</span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-71364842184392035942019-03-18T22:25:00.000-06:002019-03-18T22:25:13.281-06:00Elizabeth Jane Christison's Obituary<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdfX33NpL5E51FmQcGYM7D4AhPz6Do5m_7esEg2QTVofEZq90jfVMwDdrPNE8Wz1Az_wwvbDlvdM6QBWjRnIGKZ2MKdVj2qtkOIqF6JgZng9PkcUo5F3d-hp5q8j1bN0rXqXf2F8U6ymw/s1600/Elizabeth+Jane+Christison+Obituary.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="254" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdfX33NpL5E51FmQcGYM7D4AhPz6Do5m_7esEg2QTVofEZq90jfVMwDdrPNE8Wz1Az_wwvbDlvdM6QBWjRnIGKZ2MKdVj2qtkOIqF6JgZng9PkcUo5F3d-hp5q8j1bN0rXqXf2F8U6ymw/s400/Elizabeth+Jane+Christison+Obituary.PNG" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canon City Record May 19, 1898<br /><a href="https://www.coloradohistoricnewspapers.org/?a=d&d=CNR18980519-01.2.10&srpos=1&e=-------en-20--1--txt-txIN-Christison-------0-Fremont" target="_blank">Colorado Historic Newspaper Collection</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I found it! Elizabeth Jane Christison's obituary. Proof that my great-great-grandmother, Elizabeth Jane Christison, died in Howard, Colorado (known as Pleasant Valley before it was name Howard) and she was buried in the Valley Cemetery, which is the Howard Cemetery. And it confirms her date of death, May 10, 1898, which is recorded in the family record of births and deaths.<br /><br />I love the fact that she was known as "Grandma Christison" and was "well known and beloved by all who knew her." Some details are a little vague - she was a pioneer woman at Cash Creek, eighteen miles south of Leadville and her husband was a judge, not a clerk in Lake County and Park County.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now I am even more convinced that the marker for "Dan Christinsen" should really read "Jane Christison." <br /><br />For more information about Elizabeth Jane Christison see:</span><br />
<a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2017/02/searching-for-elizabeth-jane.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">Searching For Elizabeth Jane Christison's Grave</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2017/02/elizabeth-jane-christison-colorado.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth Jane Christison - A Colorado Pioneer</a><br /><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2009/09/death-of-judge-christison.html" target="_blank">The Death of Judge Christison</a></span><br />
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<br />Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-74251153479143585252018-12-06T21:33:00.001-07:002018-12-06T21:38:10.866-07:00National Miners Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lewis Christison standing in the background</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today is National Miners Day. When I think about my Colorado roots, those roots run deep in mountain mining shafts with three generations of Colorado miners and prospectors in my family. The above photo shows my great-grandfather, Lewis Christison, standing in the background at a mine near Buena Vista. Lewis spent his life as a hard-rock miner, moving his family from mine to mine, prospect to prospect. Villa Grove, Canon City, Buena Vista, Rosita, Alder, and Turret are a few of the places I know he mined and prospected.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQQxvMH0CE48w5_JhjVBQJ9eHheo6_Y9GSS4wNj1K_CQSvoQldYJrsSD0e5fQhT6ui1Gyx4oERoczrTpPnOCsmvbOWibDB4sL0vM0PegKbagcSxuPhwNziGE_cQub1w4Tuh6N0LEdVuFc/s1600/Ken+and+Lewis+Christison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1114" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQQxvMH0CE48w5_JhjVBQJ9eHheo6_Y9GSS4wNj1K_CQSvoQldYJrsSD0e5fQhT6ui1Gyx4oERoczrTpPnOCsmvbOWibDB4sL0vM0PegKbagcSxuPhwNziGE_cQub1w4Tuh6N0LEdVuFc/s400/Ken+and+Lewis+Christison.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken Christison, Sr. with his father, Lewis Christison</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyeO0RvwCFXyI4PsyT59vWpx8o331iHK1BNm8_jhzMd4Wce9tBx5PrxSz1PKFCoGdEJZjw5mWjSernQm56rGfJTlCE1u5ul8gaZGzqvoEMzSNHuI8FxGcknh-iJJS7V6XkigOWeGJy9P_/s1600/Ken+Christison+Gold+Crown+Mine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="895" data-original-width="551" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyeO0RvwCFXyI4PsyT59vWpx8o331iHK1BNm8_jhzMd4Wce9tBx5PrxSz1PKFCoGdEJZjw5mWjSernQm56rGfJTlCE1u5ul8gaZGzqvoEMzSNHuI8FxGcknh-iJJS7V6XkigOWeGJy9P_/s400/Ken+Christison+Gold+Crown+Mine.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken Christison, Sr. at Gold Crown Mine </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lewis' son, Ken Christison, Sr., my Grandpa, was also a miner and prospector. In 1936, he moved to California and worked at the Gold Crown Mine in Twenty-Nine Palms. He met The Girl From 29 Palms (an Andrews Sisters song my grandmother said was written about her) and married her. He returned to Colorado later and I loved to go camping<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> near his mining claim up on Poncha Pass when I was a little girl.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoX0BQ4JC1qbDVNSoz8GfUklFiK-waMrLX9AXZEuQ2lKpg7Fe8Yzp7F58rb1ZP84vRaGwfecRzTER50tASBfTS7wVsY9UIhm3KGTCTN8JomrhdkocwZCmfxH286B6wkg5f4V0bVwAvpRa6/s1600/Wilburn2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="279" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoX0BQ4JC1qbDVNSoz8GfUklFiK-waMrLX9AXZEuQ2lKpg7Fe8Yzp7F58rb1ZP84vRaGwfecRzTER50tASBfTS7wVsY9UIhm3KGTCTN8JomrhdkocwZCmfxH286B6wkg5f4V0bVwAvpRa6/s320/Wilburn2.jpg" width="224" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My Christison family miners started with Lewis' father, Wilburn Christison, who brought his wife and six children to the mining camp of Cash Creek, Colorado in a covered wagon in 1861. Wilburn was active in placer mining and in locating mines. He was involved in several mining companies, including the Pioneer Lode Mining Company.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ernest and Nancy Jane Christison</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Several of Wilburn's sons were active in mining, too. His oldest son, Leslie, worked in mines and was a mining inspector. Ernest Christison, whom I tend to think of as a cowboy, was also a miner. He and Leslie had a mining company near Twin Lakes. He also worked in mines at Cripple Creek and Victor, along with his sons, Leslie and John. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enos Frankenbery with his family</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lewis Christison's father-in-law, Enos Frankenbery (my other great-great-grandfather) was also a miner. He owned a coal mine near LaVeta. In 1893, he was badly burned in an explosion and lost his sight in one eye. But he continued to mine and later had a silver quarry near Canon City. He died in 1918 of a heart attack and had spent the day going over Colorado Fuel and Iron holdings, which he operated, with company officials.</span><br />
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Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-891180851735096032018-10-03T22:53:00.001-06:002018-10-04T14:38:36.927-06:00The 1929 Prison Riot at the Colorado State Penitentiary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">89 years ago today, on October 3, 1929, my great-great-grandmother's second husband, Ray Brown, was shot and killed in the 1929 Prison Riot at the Colorado State Penitentiary where he was a prison guard. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Margaret Johnson Frankenbery married Ray Brown on November 24, 1925. She was 64 and he was 55. It was also his second marriage after being widowed. Ray Brown had lived in Cripple Creek for 15 years before moving to Canon City and being employed as a guard at the prison in 1922.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jimmie Pardue and Danny Daniels put their plan to escape prison into motion at around noon on October 3, 1929. Pardue shot and killed the first guard, Elmer Erwin, who was in the Crow's Nest. After taking Erwin's rifle, Pardue shot and killed Walter Rinker, who was on top of the administration building, and then shot and killed Ray Brown, who was in Tower 8. Guard Myron Goodwin was also shot, but didn't die until a week later on October 10.<br /><br />Pardue and Daniels held 11 guards hostage in Cell Block 3 for twelve hours. During this time, another group of 100 or so prisoners set a fire which destroyed Cell House 1 & 2, including the dining room, library and chapel.<br /><br />Daniels gave his demands to Warden Crawford for their release; Crawford, however, called in the National Guard. When Daniel's demands weren't met, he began killing his hostages execution style. He first shot guard Jack Eeles in the head and dropped his body from a window. Guards Walter Rinker and R.A. Wiggins were also killed.<br /><br />The Warden and National Guard tried several plans throughout the night to end the riot. 2,000 rounds of ammunition were shot into Cell Block 3. A charge of 150 pounds of dynamite was set off outside the wall of cell block 3, but the charge failed to bring down the wall. Finally, tear gas was dropped into the building and Daniels, seeing no way out of the situation, shot Pardue and two other prisoners who helped with the escape plan before turning the gun on himself at about 4:00 a.m. on the 4th of October.<br /><br />Reading through the newspaper reports of the riot, I can't imagine the fear and anxiety of having a loved one working in the prison. Margaret Brown's home was across the Arkansas River from the prison, within a mile of it. Surely, she heard the gunshots. Did friends gather with her at her home or did she go to a location where other family members of those who worked at the prison waited? One report highlights the plumes of smoke from the prison, the percussion of the dynamite blast broke windows in houses within ten miles of the prison, airplanes flew overhead day and night, and the constant gunfire throughout the night.<br /><br />One article in the Canon City Record shares the story of E.J. Hollister's family, "All through the terror-filled hours of the afternoon and night, they waited for word from their loved one - their husband and father... Each shot that rang out during that horror-filled night brought new terror, more heavy anxiety to Miss Grace Hollister, oldest of the three daughter, who waited in heart-breaking fear for news of her father." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My grandfather, Ken Christison, Sr., was about 12 years old at the time and lived with his family in Rosita, a small town southwest of Canon City. He recalled in an interview with my dad in the 1970's that there were rumors that 40-50 inmates had run for the mountains, but it proved to be untrue. None of the inmates escaped during the riot.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To view photos of the prison riot and more of the story, visit this <a href="http://blogs.denverpost.com/library/2013/10/28/1929-colorado-state-penitentiary-riot/8856/" target="_blank">article on the Denver Post blog</a></span></span></div>
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Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-72002759920804214832018-07-30T13:32:00.000-06:002018-07-30T13:34:17.407-06:00Johnson Family Connections<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-t0rwKN31Vp2HzTqzNKRF3OPvGuprasToJW-7pODpXe9Dam8Atf-hERq_pnZNYTi0fROEsJJFpImBJEEFBJFgXkklSZ58CkAI-3_SnOic3zdeseW3b6eAYZGcPSEkqplmCE7igR00oLjW/s1600/Margaret+Frankenbery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1244" data-original-width="883" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-t0rwKN31Vp2HzTqzNKRF3OPvGuprasToJW-7pODpXe9Dam8Atf-hERq_pnZNYTi0fROEsJJFpImBJEEFBJFgXkklSZ58CkAI-3_SnOic3zdeseW3b6eAYZGcPSEkqplmCE7igR00oLjW/s400/Margaret+Frankenbery.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margaret Johnson Frankenbery with grandson, Armyn</td></tr>
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One of the things I love about genealogy are the connections I find. I've discovered I was working with a <a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2007/04/you-never-know.html" target="_blank">third cousin, once removed </a> when I was a librarian and I've found several other amazing connections. But, the connection I found this week blew me away!<br /><br />First, a little background: Margaret Johnson Frankenbery is my great-great-grandmother. She was born in Missouri in 1861 and she married Enos Frankenbery in 1879. They moved to LaVeta, Colorado around 1885, where Enos owned a coal mine. By 1900, they lived in Canon City, Colorado where he was first employed at a hardware store, and later owned a quarry with his son, Roy Frankenbery. Enos and Margaret's daughter, Rosine Belle, married Lewis Daniel Christison. They are my great-grandparents.<br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Using Ancestry, I found that Margaret's father was Joseph Harrison Johnson. And the matches to my DNA test appear to confirm this. Margaret's obituary states she was one of 17 children! Her mother, Hannah Phillips, was Harrison's second wife. I believe they had seven children together before she died. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But the surprise was yet to come. As I looked at Harrison's 3rd marriage to Mary Byrd Gunn, I noticed one of her daughters from a previous marriage, Mary J. Gunn had married John Hood Tidwell in Oklahoma. The Tidwell name rang a bell. My daughter-in-law's grandfather's name is Tidwell. I texted Shelby and asked her great-great-grandfather's name. She later texted back, "George Dallas Tidwell." Unbelievable! George Dallas Tidwell is the son of Mary J. Gunn and John Hood Tidwell!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, my great-great-grandmother, Margaret Johnson (b. 1861), was a step-sister to Mary J. Gunn (b. 1867), my daughter-in-law's 3rd great-grandmother.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Shelby's mom and I are 4th step-cousins, Kenny and Shelby are 5th step-cousins. Crazy, huh?<br /></span></div>
Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-16420438428698840072018-06-24T20:55:00.001-06:002018-06-25T09:03:05.445-06:00Hutchinson Homestead<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_v-1LFZBZfJVn8ghrxrdgXEBrUksyXp_OVn9y69d3YW4gBLjOLhybmvZkkNUtz7oKSI1LnB-GFeZ6RDqlOfU2JHwQxO-D7PRsB-hxlsVCan76UNQo18UEljNVUAytzUKQ-AhzntlXclLR/s1600/38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="1017" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_v-1LFZBZfJVn8ghrxrdgXEBrUksyXp_OVn9y69d3YW4gBLjOLhybmvZkkNUtz7oKSI1LnB-GFeZ6RDqlOfU2JHwQxO-D7PRsB-hxlsVCan76UNQo18UEljNVUAytzUKQ-AhzntlXclLR/s400/38.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">36 years ago, I visited Dr. Wendell "Hutch" Hutchinson to ask him about my great-great-uncle, Ernest Christison and Ed Watkins. Hutch gave us a tour of his family's homestead and showed us the location of a Christison cabin on the Hutchinson Ranch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This weekend we returned for the "Ranching Voices: Stories of Our Valley" program at the <a href="https://www.hutchinsonhomestead.org/" target="_blank">Hutchinson Homestead</a>. It is now a National Register Historical District and Learning Center to educate youth and families about history and agriculture. The speakers were from four of the oldest ranches in Chaffee County and they shared the histories of their ranches and their stories as ranchers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I felt like I was sitting at a family reunion listening to the stories of the early settlers I have spent so many years researching! Many of the stories were familiar to me, told through books like <i>Under The Angel Of Shavano </i>by George Everett and Dr. Wendell Hutchinson. Other stories or people mentioned are connected to the story of Ernest Christison and Ed Watkins. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This morning felt like a repeat of the past when Hutch's son, Art Hutchinson, showed me the location of Henry Van Kleeck's house and dairy in Poncha Springs. Art shares his father's love of history and the people who settled the Upper Arkansas Valley. Talking with him felt like talking to an old friend who knows all of the people I know!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here is a photo of two descendants of 1860's Cash Creek miners, Joseph Hutchinson and Wilburn Christison:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFCrO5c6f0we6mM-8LSuKNFk6EtnAHu29FisWt__KWSQhTZh_ebBZk7NhrrS3wMVUYR6Q2SyzVytlKiBoJ_vO-53rZoYxKgj72MjltWqDSwrDCFS0CUoAKnAwNJ7Fmv-pPRmE9t1Ak4DBd/s1600/044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFCrO5c6f0we6mM-8LSuKNFk6EtnAHu29FisWt__KWSQhTZh_ebBZk7NhrrS3wMVUYR6Q2SyzVytlKiBoJ_vO-53rZoYxKgj72MjltWqDSwrDCFS0CUoAKnAwNJ7Fmv-pPRmE9t1Ak4DBd/s400/044.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gayle Christison Gresham and Lewis "Art" Hutchinson</td></tr>
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<br />Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-45498386917765291822018-05-06T22:22:00.000-06:002018-05-07T13:56:09.445-06:00The Redemption of Ernest Christison Article in the Mountain Mail<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WVVE8CZt3aKDnWdSfUXoy7xJ7sFUsJ_yASwFRVNQYKkvD3i-PjHsQ_S1os7pSqR-bDWkGZMehYvfi_lNqmRuJd9PB46BlQr_-DLhvXVPBX95d8mZEDnYi2XZrQoQF0IRErob64SPYeDB/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WVVE8CZt3aKDnWdSfUXoy7xJ7sFUsJ_yASwFRVNQYKkvD3i-PjHsQ_S1os7pSqR-bDWkGZMehYvfi_lNqmRuJd9PB46BlQr_-DLhvXVPBX95d8mZEDnYi2XZrQoQF0IRErob64SPYeDB/s400/020.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virgil Ernest Christison's grave marker in the Fairview Cemetery, Colorado Springs</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've been enjoying the articles written by Joy Jackson, archivist at the Salida Regional Library, about Salida stories of the past in her column, "<a href="http://salidaarchive.info/salida-archive-articles-for-the-mountain-mail/" target="_blank">At the Library.</a>" My friend, Margy, sent me copies of the four-part Cattle Thieves series published from November 2017 to February 2018 in the Mountain Mail. And a couple of other friends sent me links to the articles. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The final article is "<a href="http://salidaarchive.info/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/The-Redemption-of-Ernest-Christison.pdf" target="_blank">The Redemption of Ernest Christison.</a>" It is fun to see my great-great-uncle, Ernest, have his own headline and article. Jackson refers to newspaper articles from 1883-1884 which I have also used extensively in my research. It is interesting to read someone else's conclusions. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I thought I would fill in a little family history information. Virgil Ernest Christison was the second oldest son of Judge Wilburn and Elizabeth Christison. In 1879, he married Nancy Jane Taylor. Their first child, John, was born in 1882. Their daughter, Grace, was born in August of 1883 before Ernest went to jail in Buena Vista.<br /><br />Ernest was sentenced to two years in the Colorado State Penitentiary and was released two months early for good behavior in March of 1886. Ernest and Nancy had two more daughters, then two more sons (the first Roy, born in 1893, probably the baby mentioned in the article) and finally, a daughter, Helen, born in 1904.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ernest died in 1939 in Colorado Springs. His obituary reads in part, "Virgil E. Christison, 86, who came to Colorado as a youth and engaged in the mining and freighting business shortly after the Civil War, died yesterday at the residence of a daughter, Helen." </span></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-5003275348926003972017-04-11T12:52:00.002-06:002017-04-11T21:28:33.817-06:00Step Into The River<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1GUVjROe70Ah9RRDOfnVKjDQH-m-JpfHBynzi4pL6iKB3HIPvkcXqSoV47SoHrXW4FHjdUhyphenhyphenkcyuxJH0tJAVFIHATv-4xhrV_fGNANM2Gp2wb1bJqiTqhk88JhqGtHGl0ewWtN9hzQvx/s1600/Step+Into+The+River+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1GUVjROe70Ah9RRDOfnVKjDQH-m-JpfHBynzi4pL6iKB3HIPvkcXqSoV47SoHrXW4FHjdUhyphenhyphenkcyuxJH0tJAVFIHATv-4xhrV_fGNANM2Gp2wb1bJqiTqhk88JhqGtHGl0ewWtN9hzQvx/s400/Step+Into+The+River+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last fall, Julia Cameron was a keynote speaker at the Women Writing The West Conference in Santa Fe. I found her talk on her book, <i>The Artist's Way</i>, refreshing and bought the book to work through it. I made my way through the 12-week workbook, not perfectly, but open and trusting it to move me forward with writing my cattle rustling book. I appreciated finding my creativity opening like the petals of a flower, slowly and delicately.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I found my creativity, three C's kept rising to the top - Creativity, Curiosity and Connection. These three C's drive me. When I approach life from the basis of creativity, curiosity and connection, I am open, curious and move forward in whatever I am doing. When life becomes a list of tasks watched over by a stern taskmaster, I am closed, fearful and anxious.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Applying the three C's to writing my book has helped me to write again after a couple of years of depression and writer's block. Allowing myself to be curious helps me step into the scenes. Sometimes it is being curious with the research and other times it's the simple curiosity of "What happens next?" Creativity means I can try writing it different ways, moving in and out of various points of view, seeing the manuscript as a lump of clay instead of an immobile object. Connection is the reason I am writing the book. It all started with a family connection, my great-great-uncle, but it is really a story of connections: who knows who, who did they work with, who were they friends with, who is related, who has past connections? It is also my connection to the story. What speaks to me, what draws me in, what is it that won't let me go?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Western performer, <a href="https://www.mary-kaye.com/" target="_blank">Mary Kaye</a>, shared a video on creativity and in it she quoted her cousin, western yodeler, Kerry Christensen. When she started in the music business, he told her, "Any time you start a career in a creative profession, whether writing, music, or art, it's like stepping into a stream of moving water. You have to take the first step into the water and it's cold, it's scary, but you have to trust that the flow of that creativity is going to take you to exactly where you need to be."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I picture stepping into the stream of moving water, of course I picture the Arkansas River in Salida. And I know that creativity, curiosity, and connection are what move me into the stream. The river is the unknown, but I trust my Creator to move me through it and trust that the flow will take me right to where I need to be and where the book needs to be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I created the poster in the photo above, framed it in a blue frame, and set it on the shelf above my computer. It reminds me to to choose creativity, curiosity or connection in the book and to step into the river, trusting the book will end up exactly where it needs to be.</span><br />
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<br />Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-48627813963347274032017-02-25T12:23:00.003-07:002021-06-26T15:46:39.958-06:00Searching For Elizabeth Jane Christison's Grave<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Update: </b>I found Elizabeth's obituary in the Canon City newspaper. She was buried in the Valley Cemetery (now known as the Howard Cemetery). Read her obituary on Colorado Historic Newspapers <a href="https://www.coloradohistoricnewspapers.org/?a=d&d=CNR18980519-01.2.10&srpos=1&e=-------en-20--1--img-txIN%7ctxCO%7ctxTA-%22Mrs.+Christison%22-------0-Fremont-----" target="_blank">Grandma Christison Is No More </a> in the Pleasant Valley column. </span><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipXc1FjdOPyAFpbNnELrEtEsuviq6i42j1VWd-yafKiB6U4SMTkYonwJ7vuL3mMODlcjiu_Q9goF0wstiQ2YteLjnD_tvej5F-okeAQjzNhKy0Inr82GiLhzAKw6M-eJz5pUQARyqxwrEz/s1600/Mrs.+Christison+ill+Enlarged.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipXc1FjdOPyAFpbNnELrEtEsuviq6i42j1VWd-yafKiB6U4SMTkYonwJ7vuL3mMODlcjiu_Q9goF0wstiQ2YteLjnD_tvej5F-okeAQjzNhKy0Inr82GiLhzAKw6M-eJz5pUQARyqxwrEz/s400/Mrs.+Christison+ill+Enlarged.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">April 15, 1898 Salida Mail Colorado Historic Newspaper Collection<br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Ah, the Christison family and the sites of the eternal rest of their earthly bodies.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8cjVQbqTfSeZefX-oABcLHRf-D10wLHkaOyPj0YhM-FbtlMaoZz_tOeQwlUnz7IapjzAHkdxxidQYS2WJ8NOHAS4m4h2S7PIr06s1q39FjFqph7kdTUVG8jYjasgqRSglxJrOMnC5VZn/s1600/Elizabeth+Jane+Christison.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8cjVQbqTfSeZefX-oABcLHRf-D10wLHkaOyPj0YhM-FbtlMaoZz_tOeQwlUnz7IapjzAHkdxxidQYS2WJ8NOHAS4m4h2S7PIr06s1q39FjFqph7kdTUVG8jYjasgqRSglxJrOMnC5VZn/s320/Elizabeth+Jane+Christison.jpg" width="179" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">If ever a family wanted to throw their descendants into a fruitless search for gravesites, it is the Christisons. Apparently, stone monuments were not a necessity to the Christisons. Even Judge Wilburn Christison, whom we know died in Fairplay and was buried in Fairplay, does not have a marker in the Fairplay Cemetery.<br /><br /><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2017/02/elizabeth-jane-christison-colorado.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth Jane Lewis Christison</a>'s grave is also a mystery. To make matters worse, if you search for Elizabeth Jane on Ancestry, you will find that about half of the family trees say she died in Howard, Colorado and another half say she died in Blue Springs, Missouri. What? So far, I have not seen documentation for the Blue Springs death and burial. I have no idea where this idea originated.<br /><br />I have 2 theories on where Elizabeth Jane Lewis Christison is buried. The first logical place would be for her to be buried beside her husband, Wilburn Christison, in the Fairplay Cemetery. But this is impossible to prove because there are no markers, nor are there any cemetery records.<br /><br />The second theory, the one I believe to be the most likely, is that she is buried in the Howard Cemetery in Howard, Colorado.<br /><br />First, let's look at her death. The newspaper clipping at the top is from the April 15, 1898 <i>Salida Mail </i>in the "Pleasant Valley Notes, Howard, Colorado" saying: "Mrs. Christison is very ill and serious doubts are entertained of her recovery."<br /><br />I know Elizabeth Jane lived in Howard at the time of her son, Charlie's, death in 1892. I also have a family record stating "Mother" (Elizabeth Jane) died May 10, 1898 in Howard. I received this handwritten copy from Betty Regnier, Ernest Christison's granddaughter. At the top is a note, "The original of this was handed down through the family." I am guessing the printing was done by Betty's mother, Helen, and the cursive writing are Betty's notes.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdxleVqZL0mdrQNsQwCAz8LN3l7asez5tGBS4a5yd0GPh4oNLBxSnjmXNqOX5eDdUI2Q72hQeBtS_5iZlYQInv8iN_5-MnpEV6xwaDJYjy4zWOcoyoGkGNRmUJaflPJuA6tI494r-0LVM/s1600/001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdxleVqZL0mdrQNsQwCAz8LN3l7asez5tGBS4a5yd0GPh4oNLBxSnjmXNqOX5eDdUI2Q72hQeBtS_5iZlYQInv8iN_5-MnpEV6xwaDJYjy4zWOcoyoGkGNRmUJaflPJuA6tI494r-0LVM/s400/001.JPG" width="266" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Christison Family Record, Betty Regnier</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">So, I believe these two documents, the newspaper clipping, and the family record prove that Elizabeth Jane Lewis Christison died in Howard, Colorado on May 10, 1898.<br /><br />Where is she buried? I believe in Howard Cemetery. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">There are two lots marked on the 1923 map of the Howard Cemetery that I think are Christisons. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Howard Cemetery Map located at the Royal Gorge Regional Museum</span><br />
<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">And History Center, Canon City, Colorado</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> The first is faint and there is a tear in the map that runs through the name. To some it reads "Dan Christisen." Someone else suggested "Dau." possibly for an infant that died. </span><br />
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<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">At some point (perhaps a WPA project?), someone put a marker up, reading "Dan Christinsen." Notice the "n" added on the marker is not in the name on the map.</span><br />
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<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">One day, I got to thinking about the graves in Howard and recalled an experience I had as a librarian at the Elbert Library. A name was transcribed wrongly from a map to a cemetery record and I helped figure it out. Here's that <a href="http://echoesofelbertcounty.blogspot.com/2011/04/unknown-grave-made-known.html" target="_blank">Unknown Grave</a> story.<br /><br />What if "Dan Christisen" was really "Jane Christison?" I could see where the lower part of a cursive "J" could be faint and the letter look like a "D." And the "e" at the end could simply look like a line ending the name.<br /><br />The Royal Gorge Museum and History Center has the original linen 1923 map. But this map must have been transcribed from other records; perhaps another map, perhaps a list of names and burials; or perhaps it was a survey of markers. What if there was a wooden marker that said "Jane" but was so weathered that the best guess was "Dan?"<br /><br />The "Dan Christisen" grave is next to Julia Ann Taylor and her husband, John Wesley Taylor, who happen to be the in-laws of Elizabeth Jane's son, Virgil Ernest Christison, who died in 1905 and 1906. Perhaps Ernest bought the lot, buried his mother there and 7 years later, buried his mother-in-law beside her?</span><br />
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<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">My family has always called her "Elizabeth." But this is a family where many of the children went by their middle name. It seems logical that she went by "Jane."<br /><br />I have searched for a "Dan Christinsen" or "Christensen" or "Christisen" and I haven't located any in the area.<br /><br />The other grave is in the next row over, marked "Christinson" on the map. I believe this is Charlie Christison who died on April 29, 1892 at the age of 25 from an illness. His obituary states he was buried in the Howard Cemetery.<br /><br />I know there is no way to prove with certainty that Elizabeth Jane Lewis Christison is buried in the grave marked "Dan Christinsen," but to me, it seems the most believable. </span><br />
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<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"><b>Additional Blog Posts Relating To Elizabeth Jane Christison:</b></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2019/03/elizabeth-jane-christisons-obituary.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth Jane Christison's Obituary</a><br /></span>
<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2017/02/elizabeth-jane-christison-colorado.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth Jane Christison - A Colorado Pioneer</a></span><br />
<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2009/09/death-of-judge-christison.html" target="_blank">The Death of Judge Christison</a></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-78440102613178471182017-02-24T19:55:00.000-07:002017-02-27T11:39:04.904-07:00Elizabeth Jane Christison - A Colorado Pioneer <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmf1rWKIck0EoN50KkEa17mkhYNOO08IgfhZssvHNl9o08wTjJ-6ZnaOWoCYVFs48EdxsvJSl4b6OEmLZdx1hqdieDZapofl2AXx4q-UOemkeIJnqxiKX9RV3rvNUgMlARpyNXqHeey4Lv/s1600/Elizabeth+Jane+Christison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmf1rWKIck0EoN50KkEa17mkhYNOO08IgfhZssvHNl9o08wTjJ-6ZnaOWoCYVFs48EdxsvJSl4b6OEmLZdx1hqdieDZapofl2AXx4q-UOemkeIJnqxiKX9RV3rvNUgMlARpyNXqHeey4Lv/s400/Elizabeth+Jane+Christison.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Elizabeth Jane Lewis Christison is my great-great-grandmother. She is also the great-grandaughter of Hannah Boone (Daniel Boone's sister) and John Stewart (who was killed by Indians in 1770 during an expedition with Daniel Boone).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Elizabeth was born to Daniel Pennington Lewis and Polly Paine Lewis on November 10, 1828 in Platte City, Missouri. She married Wilburn Christison September 24, 1848 in Platte City. The family moved to Leavenworth County, Kansas in 1855. In 1861, Wilburn, Elizabeth and their six children crossed the plains with a covered wagon pulled by oxen to the mining camp of Cash Creek in the Colorado mountains near Twin Lakes. The youngest child, Mary Alwilda, may have been born during the journey. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">While Wilburn ran an Indian trading post and practiced law, Elizabeth raise their children and bore three more babies. The family suffered a tragedy on August 17, 1864 when Arthur Boone "Boone" was struck by lightning and died at the age of 11.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The family moved south to where Buena Vista is today and then moved to Adobe Park (before Salida was there). In 1872, Wilburn was elected Park County Judge and the family moved to Fairplay. Wilburn died of pneumonia on February 7, 1882 in Fairplay. <a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2009/09/death-of-judge-christison.html" target="_blank">Wilburn Christison Obituary</a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Elizabeth moved to Brown's Park near Salida with her two youngest sons. And, by 1890, lived in Howard, Colorado, where her son, Virgil Ernest Christison, and family lived.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Her life wasn't easy after Wilburn died. Virgil Ernest spent 2 years in the State Penitentiary for Grand Larceny (cattle theft) from 1884-1886. Her middle son, John, committed suicide in 1890 in Aspen, Colorado. And her youngest son, Charlie, fell ill while working in Creede and died at her home in Howard in 1892.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Elizabeth Jane Christison died on May 10, 1898 in Howard, Colorado.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Additional Blog Posts Relating to Elizabeth Jane Christison:</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2017/02/searching-for-elizabeth-jane.html" target="_blank">Searching for Elizabeth Jane Christison's Grave</a></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-56055670793478122352015-09-09T18:14:00.000-06:002017-04-01T11:57:02.770-06:00Cash Creek (Cache Creek) Then and Now<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjniKZ3JiaePmh8nwdsgiWSj5I0q9G8UYVwTQOyXzB87vsHQ5CSYu0zy7D2iBCxVUXOfq_hy2NXrsavTAwWdKEj2o0j892hyphenhyphenjMMO2A8qpaKaVP3BwwfqwIxoaMY6TfGhXqPGkX2C-ZymdI/s1600/Cash+Creek1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjniKZ3JiaePmh8nwdsgiWSj5I0q9G8UYVwTQOyXzB87vsHQ5CSYu0zy7D2iBCxVUXOfq_hy2NXrsavTAwWdKEj2o0j892hyphenhyphenjMMO2A8qpaKaVP3BwwfqwIxoaMY6TfGhXqPGkX2C-ZymdI/s400/Cash+Creek1.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cash Creek Photo by W.G. Chamberlain Denver Public Library Digital Collections </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5KMI6Ix0kIkhT5hrNWQErA0FKVkRJZk2PGAUHKKiMbRk57a8EsT7RGT4v7KvJxl2-cAK7DtHwfeundwM2rUYnmN9DCR_4WK2YFSfnap2ICgFnGucIZHM-fr7bFEnJXu29h2OC375NEU0/s400/019.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Gayle Gresham</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The only known photo of the Cash Creek mining camp is the photo by W.G. Chamberlain between 1865 and 1875 in the <a href="http://digital.denverlibrary.org/cdm/ref/collection/p15330coll22/id/23861#.VfCSORquY3c.blogger" target="_blank">Denver Library Digital Collections</a>. Wilburn Christison, my great-great-grandfather, lived with his wife and six children at Cash Creek between 1861 and 1865 or so. He had a trading post with the Ute Indians and prospected and engaged in mining enterprises.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today my husband figured out where W.G. Chamberlain took his photo by looking at the mountains. And I hiked to approximately the same spot and took a photo. The photos look at Cash Creek (Cache Creek) from the southwest hill. At the center of each photo is a road that curves. This is at the Granite Cemetery. The three trees in today's photo are near the cemetery.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The ditch, is what I believe is the Cash Creek Ditch, engineered by Henry Justice, who also supervised the digging in 1861 to bring the water from the Twin Lakes. Wilburn Christison was a shareholder in the project. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The terrain has changed quite a bit by natural erosion (I believe that is why the road isn't as prominent in today's photo) and by hydraulic mining where the gravel was washed away by hydraulic nozzles. As you can see, there is quite a change in the level where the trees are and the same level in Chamberlain's photo.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But, I was fascinated to see that the trail to walk down to the creek is about the same.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGW2gmwnBhrZXhFGvr5HhclVr1uoqyv9WDzr4TKVFK7_KKCcefU8GXuvcbBcwZcPQ5F9JbGFt3z0XlPJ7k8KXMDrII68nZR9aHKyeR0FoGft81jLoXaiq-8rBtoMKVIXIB9OwHrdNPfNC/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGW2gmwnBhrZXhFGvr5HhclVr1uoqyv9WDzr4TKVFK7_KKCcefU8GXuvcbBcwZcPQ5F9JbGFt3z0XlPJ7k8KXMDrII68nZR9aHKyeR0FoGft81jLoXaiq-8rBtoMKVIXIB9OwHrdNPfNC/s400/018.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfH72BivV2F73TGEEoN2OcbFQU4vsGb6nxE70UITjUQqfw_L34zWAhCvtd6A2i5oMG3OctlRo_y8SH7sOo4plEHFQZ_cfcU_4SpJF2zin94McRhyCwQ3E5qF1wRsUuqHtw3UG0BHymEZp2/s1600/117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfH72BivV2F73TGEEoN2OcbFQU4vsGb6nxE70UITjUQqfw_L34zWAhCvtd6A2i5oMG3OctlRo_y8SH7sOo4plEHFQZ_cfcU_4SpJF2zin94McRhyCwQ3E5qF1wRsUuqHtw3UG0BHymEZp2/s400/117.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">To learn more about early Cash Creek, look for my chapter, "The Cash Creek Miners and the Lake County War," in <i>Rush to the Rockies,</i> a book of papers presented at the Pikes Peak Library District's Regional History Symposium and published by the Pikes Peak Library District.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Additional Blog Posts Relating to Cash Creek and the Christison Family:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2008/12/cache-creek-or-cash-creek.html" target="_blank">Cache Creek or Cash Creek</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2009/09/death-of-judge-christison.html" target="_blank">The Death of Judge Christison</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2017/02/elizabeth-jane-christison-colorado.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth Jane Christison - Colorado Pioneer</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-cache-creek-gold-panning-experience.html" target="_blank">My Cache Creek Gold Panning Experience</a></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-69174373071102254572015-08-14T11:56:00.001-06:002017-02-27T11:11:02.289-07:00A Writing Retreat 132 Years After Ed Watkins' Lynching<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PIjnlRwVo4wdUjUXKlRRFVhlc6EdQxL462su_v2K6uRiKSU2idkNTBrVIfGC0rXQpZR5PO5LtHRRzKRFVp_hDyddZBvwsFqVtaAvA_QQw4wCllZ0tp7ZiY7J-TcxUsFGzrE-X-hWvKgT/s1600/099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PIjnlRwVo4wdUjUXKlRRFVhlc6EdQxL462su_v2K6uRiKSU2idkNTBrVIfGC0rXQpZR5PO5LtHRRzKRFVp_hDyddZBvwsFqVtaAvA_QQw4wCllZ0tp7ZiY7J-TcxUsFGzrE-X-hWvKgT/s400/099.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking east towards Salida. <br />
The Christison and Watkins ranches were on the mountain in the center pink in the sunset.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I spent the last week at the Heart of the Rockies Campground writing a chapter of the book. Coincidentally, this was the week major events took place in the story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ed Watkins was lynched by a mob of masked men at the Canon City courthouse in the early morning hours of August 11, 1883. That chapter was already written. The chapter I worked on this week is when the South Park cattlemen arrived on the train in Salida two days after Ed Watkins' lynching. They had to appear in court because Ed Watkins had named several men in a lawsuit for driving away his cattle before he was killed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ed Watkins' friends were quick to accuse the cattlemen of the lynching and met the cattlemen at the train. A tense situation, to say the least.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My writer friend, Nancy Oswald, sent me a quote this week by A.M. Homes, "I think that in fiction you can say things and in a way be truer than you can be in real life and truer than you can be in non-fiction. There's an accuracy to fiction that people don't really talk about - an emotional accuracy."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I believe emotional accuracy is why this book evolved from nonfiction to creative nonfiction to historical fiction. It is also part of the reason this book is taking forever to write. Writing emotional accuracy is hard work in this story. Much of it is gut-wrenching. Emotions I don't want to gloss over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, I piece together events - the train arrived at noon and the hearing started at 2:00 p.m. What did they do for two hours? Then I write the scene thinking about the emotions based on what had already occurred in the story. How did this make them feel? How did they show it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And now that I've read what I just wrote, I understand why my writing process takes a little longer. This week I spent two days piecing together what happened in the chapter. During those two days, I processed the events in my mind and wrote paragraphs that didn't go anywhere. But on day 3, I could write, sometimes using sentences from those paragraphs that didn't seem to go anywhere. The scene fell into place and I could write with emotional accuracy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Knowing that the two days that seemed hopeless are really an important part of my writing process will help me. Stay in there, don't give up, the moment it all falls in place is just around the corner.</span><br />
<br />Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-67595182615013742472015-01-12T21:21:00.001-07:002017-02-27T11:24:34.564-07:00Part 2: Circling and Story Round-up in Writing<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0htvbb132JNEbRAx7ZjxQO8l40CHz7gz9Atybz8JkI2_mocdHqrkPhekKOfvVYTA0rnrM3-gixP-NA93GMzhvi36E3iHX-9e2EoisBalQyJlO5qEW9T7dA__MzxBtkse68Rxvpntbm2on/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0htvbb132JNEbRAx7ZjxQO8l40CHz7gz9Atybz8JkI2_mocdHqrkPhekKOfvVYTA0rnrM3-gixP-NA93GMzhvi36E3iHX-9e2EoisBalQyJlO5qEW9T7dA__MzxBtkse68Rxvpntbm2on/s1600/040.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gayle Gresham at the Mulock Ranch corral in Park County, May 2014<br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In my last post, <a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2015/01/part-1-circling-and-story-round-up.html" target="_blank">Part 1: Circling and Story Round-up</a>, I wrote about my discovery of "circling" and how it worked in researching my book (without me knowing it at the time). <br /><br />When I started writing the book, my thinking
went linear. That's the way you write a book, right? Start at the beginning and write to the end. Using my cattle round-up metaphor, I had to get my cows in a straight line, in the correct order and
move them forward. And that worked just the way it would if I went to the pasture and started trying to make our cows line up in a straight line and stay in order!<br /><br />Everything came to a grinding halt. 3 years later, I am
still stuck and overwhelmed. I have bits and pieces of a book, but nothing that
reads in order. <br /><br />Now, in my defense, I do have a chapter order and what events need to go into each
chapter. But I get stymied when I try to write. What if I forget something?
What if it didn’t happen the way I think? What were the motives? Why did it
happen this way? <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And then I discovered circling and round-up. What if I round
up my book the way I rounded up the research? I start in a broad circle and
gather the story. That’s my chapter order. I’ll keep circling in, bringing
pieces of the story together. <br /><br />For the first draft, I’m finding the pieces,
seeing how they fit together. I’m bringing them to the corral. I’ll keep
circling, looking for strays, but concentrating on what I have and what I know.
I’ll keep bringing the story in, tighter and tighter, until I have the center,
the focus, the essence of the book.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">While circling, I don’t have to have perfection. I’m just
gathering the story together. What may seem important (so important it keeps me
from writing it) may not be that important in the end. If I get stuck, I’ll
circle to the next cow, the next scene, or perhaps another scene that will
inform the first scene. I’ll keep circling until I have a story.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I’m not circling to circle. I am circling to bring the story
to the center. Moving from the outside in. Circling to make the story complete. Circling to the end. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As a lifetime circler, (I've heard it described as circling the airport and never landing), I realize that this story must land. I have to circle to the center to completion. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have numbered the circles in my spiral to be certain I keep moving to the center. Now I know exactly where I am in the spiral and what I need to do to get to the next circle. I have 5 circles in my spiral - the outer circle is a 5 and and inner circle is 1. 1 is the finish line, when the inner circle is filled in, the 1st draft will be complete. Right now I'm at the 4th circle. I figure I'll have half the book rounded up at the 3rd circle. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'll keep you informed about my circling. It may seem bizarre to you (unless you are a circler, too), but it has opened up my mind to be able to write again. Which makes me very happy!</span></span><br />
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Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-3043600105651495302015-01-02T12:31:00.000-07:002017-02-27T11:13:21.669-07:00Part 1: Circling and Story Round-up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPJdWbLGOqVH6GFOJ1M9Oe0eVaVsJtqbzVoUSUrZF0dndjs2JRRa6lFk6mqn02XrcixQbICq6ZeVrbdGABU5iqmiK1-GwdcldG3_Apd6AqZknmSsFefDOX0cXyxC2mTAcDox8IRvpCSE_/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPJdWbLGOqVH6GFOJ1M9Oe0eVaVsJtqbzVoUSUrZF0dndjs2JRRa6lFk6mqn02XrcixQbICq6ZeVrbdGABU5iqmiK1-GwdcldG3_Apd6AqZknmSsFefDOX0cXyxC2mTAcDox8IRvpCSE_/s1600/005.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">With the New Year, my thoughts circled around writing my book. Why can’t I write it? What is keeping me from writing it?<br /> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I thought of a Diana Gabaldon</span><a href="http://www.threeifbyspace.net/2014/12/exclusive-diana-gabaldon-interview-part-2-benign-form-add/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank"> interview </a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’d read recently where she talked about keeping 17 tabs open on her computer at a time, writing one scene until she got stuck and then moving to another. She said that’s how her brain works. The word “circling” came to mind when I read it. Then I read a </span><a href="https://dawnwink.wordpress.com/2012/12/30/dreams-and-deadlines-in-2013-some-ideas-on-organization/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">blog post</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Dawn Wink wrote on how she organizes her writing with a clustering, a journal, and lists. Once again, I thought of “circling.”</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remembered drawing spirals in school when I doodled in my notebook during class. I’d start at the center and spiral outwards. Thinking about circling and writing, I wondered about starting at the outside and spiraling inward to the center. <br /><br />I sat down at my desk and drew a spiral. It felt right when I started at the outside and spiraled in. I felt the completion when I reached the center.<br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The word “Circling” stayed on my mind. Last night I realized that circling is like a cattle round-up. Cowboys start in a broad circle and move the cattle together, picking up strays and gathering the cattle in a corral.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I began researching the story for my book, I didn’t start at point A and move to point B. Instead, I gathered information like gathering cows in a roundup. I started on a broad loop, learning the story. Then, I started gathering facts and putting them in the corral – Excel spreadsheet, notebooks and folders. I went after strays and sometimes ran across unexpected information. I kept circling, bringing in information until I had all of my facts. I know there may be some mavericks out there I haven’t found, but I know I did my best.<br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Next, I examined my facts like a cattleman examines his cows. Are they healthy? Or are they sick or have an injury? Which facts are strong and true? Which ones are untrue? What proof do I have? Who made this statement and what was their bias? <br /><br />I got to know my facts like a cattleman knows his cows. I knew which ones had a certain bias and which were most likely made up. How? I found other documentation or proof. I culled the information that was inaccurate or false, just as I would an old cow or one that won’t produce any longer. I kept the info with a bias, but I know to keep an eye on it and not let it get loose.<br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Circling worked for my research. I feel confident in my research and know that I have done a good job. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My next question – Could circling work in writing my book?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2015/01/part-2-circling-and-story-round-up-in.html" target="_blank">Part 2: Circling and Round-up</a></b></span></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-60056162139790973782014-09-06T13:00:00.001-06:002017-02-27T11:27:02.648-07:00Cabin on Alder Creek<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh45GX1Es2Ya_XvYlpwt8KeX_pMK518t64Hfsva1cFVieaIImTKFA_ZtllkmX5-NeB5TeZFXr5Uhe1q1Om7N9Uoek-lGZ0nVI9UB9cEd2-7ANTIgQoNIasENE45JhegMs0cLt4mqqvxf0CW/s1600/050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh45GX1Es2Ya_XvYlpwt8KeX_pMK518t64Hfsva1cFVieaIImTKFA_ZtllkmX5-NeB5TeZFXr5Uhe1q1Om7N9Uoek-lGZ0nVI9UB9cEd2-7ANTIgQoNIasENE45JhegMs0cLt4mqqvxf0CW/s1600/050.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">John and I returned to Alder after Labor Day and, once again, searched for the Carothers cabin where my Grandpa lived when he was a boy. First, we walked along the beaver ponds and counted at least ten ponds. Riding back down the trail, we stopped on the east side of the ponds and noticed a trail across from the diggings. We hiked down the trail and discovered...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEB2t3IiqhZrMubGmqywjH3IHcZe8DX6ZqXQt8VtRi4IhoURwRAV3Aow7TUprdsqAA43-v4xHEjoPiLlVqRMxvszyoZ03XYIs1zc06yPxMnv-ycps6Qvc1KpLVu2TJFbMmAUiPBmZHaso/s1600/066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEB2t3IiqhZrMubGmqywjH3IHcZe8DX6ZqXQt8VtRi4IhoURwRAV3Aow7TUprdsqAA43-v4xHEjoPiLlVqRMxvszyoZ03XYIs1zc06yPxMnv-ycps6Qvc1KpLVu2TJFbMmAUiPBmZHaso/s1600/066.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">the remains of a cabin!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5t00OSYslYzVQmTCykgu74sDpnQaifc1xYm38vMw9R7n4SWhQThx719d-1NytOO0827AJHDaAhLQOZi_tIBMo6bS66sIYYlffWwNktx-ori-xdGuCw7KTSA4LzOAkdBYzp-fpOmrtpxjo/s1600/065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5t00OSYslYzVQmTCykgu74sDpnQaifc1xYm38vMw9R7n4SWhQThx719d-1NytOO0827AJHDaAhLQOZi_tIBMo6bS66sIYYlffWwNktx-ori-xdGuCw7KTSA4LzOAkdBYzp-fpOmrtpxjo/s1600/065.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We are not certain if this was the cabin my Dad remembers his father showing him. But it's the only cabin we found.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNNOyLdwqbH8yw5LQutEXgLsEM00WwElAk6_e6-ObHsljyvHtgaowjEI9EFew-jM6GLmJ-_fg32eA5ohaztd5qAihioT7n8pRNDXaTPCBWpzfAlOyYZ3fosICgO6eiCDOkoJ-uNYHmIUk/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNNOyLdwqbH8yw5LQutEXgLsEM00WwElAk6_e6-ObHsljyvHtgaowjEI9EFew-jM6GLmJ-_fg32eA5ohaztd5qAihioT7n8pRNDXaTPCBWpzfAlOyYZ3fosICgO6eiCDOkoJ-uNYHmIUk/s1600/049.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">To read more about Grandpa's childhood in Alder and our search for the cabin, read the post <a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2014/07/past-and-present-alder-colorado.html" target="_blank">"Past and Present Alder, Colorado."</a></span>Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-75609638632730424792014-08-11T11:28:00.001-06:002017-02-27T11:28:24.067-07:00WMA - Colorado Chapter Showcase/Jam at Florrisant Grange<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB917QI3cP9m19riCXN_7yfKavwX1ECB7aj1KeMuKkyYVC6801U1eowptDO0WPrmioOXeYC_nUbjiL9i6-iwqn87J2Y5RNZizk73LH03DVK-IhxEwd71Lce6KgLkftnHLbmY7VJGrby8Xu/s1600/Florissant+Jam.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB917QI3cP9m19riCXN_7yfKavwX1ECB7aj1KeMuKkyYVC6801U1eowptDO0WPrmioOXeYC_nUbjiL9i6-iwqn87J2Y5RNZizk73LH03DVK-IhxEwd71Lce6KgLkftnHLbmY7VJGrby8Xu/s1600/Florissant+Jam.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
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C<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ome listen to the story of Ed Watkins and Ernest Christison in song and storytelling! John, Kate and I will be performing at the Florissant Grange this Saturday, August 16, in this fun showcase/Jam session. We have written five songs that tell the cattle rustling story. Honored to perform with the great cowboy poets and performers of Colorado.</span><br />
<br />Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-11356021986876431632014-07-26T12:42:00.001-06:002017-02-27T11:38:25.727-07:00National Day of the Cowboy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ernest Christison (Drawing by Katy Kinder from a photograph)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today, July 26, is National Day of the Cowboy. I thought it an appropriate time to share this drawing of Ernest Christison with his horse and his dog. He doesn't look like much of an outlaw, does he? Artist Katy Kinder drew this from a photograph in which the horse was blurry and faded. The photo was likely taken in the late 1870's or early 1880's.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Born in Missouri in 1852, Ernest traveled west with his family to the Colorado mining camp of Cash Creek when he was 9 years old. His older brother, Leslie, followed his father into mining, but Ernest preferred horses and cows to picks and rocks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">His first brand was recorded in 1876, the same year he signed on to round up 175 head of cattle for the ranchers Leonhardy and Turkey and trail them from Buena Vista to Denver to sell. The cowboys arrived on April 23 and they held the cattle at a ranch near Denver until the sale could be made. Everything seemed to be going well until a spring blizzard blew in at noon on April 25 and stampeded the cattle. Two days and four feet of snow later, the cowboys proceeded to locate and round up the scattered cattle. Ernest became snow blind which made it impossible for him to continue with the round-up, but Henry Weber managed to locate the rest of 155 head of cattle, sold them, and returned to the Buena Vista with Ernest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ernest had a couple of cattle partnerships including one with Thomas Cameron and his son, J.B., before his partnership with Ed Watkins.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you want to read more about the outlaw part of this story, click on <a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/p/cattle-thieves.html" target="_blank">The Cattle Rustling Story</a>.</span><br />
Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-6398500776285518852014-07-14T16:26:00.000-06:002017-02-27T11:37:39.821-07:00A Sackful of Westerns<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOjsZNa0rubJQNHoisob5bGIY2OfxxKeDFyMOainAsVVwz-793HoRWOePjsKqzMExEA8-4RuELmFI4-jDPteAtZ4TQeOFiQJtRTyLorr-8gWiziofindkgwIxks8K8K80Heum2kAzuv8Y/s1600/IMG_0026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOjsZNa0rubJQNHoisob5bGIY2OfxxKeDFyMOainAsVVwz-793HoRWOePjsKqzMExEA8-4RuELmFI4-jDPteAtZ4TQeOFiQJtRTyLorr-8gWiziofindkgwIxks8K8K80Heum2kAzuv8Y/s1600/IMG_0026.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting my Grandpa Ken Christison and his wife, Elizabeth, with Katie in Oregon</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In 1989, I flew with my one-year-old daughter, Katie, to California and Oregon to introduce her to my Dad's family. While Grandpa Christison and I talked, we learned that we both loved to read westerns. On the flight home, I carried a paper sack filled with paperback westerns that Grandpa gave me - Zane Grey, Louis L'Amour, and Steve Frazee.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FWH2-lDQ-7NeUM8r-MO4XX_8n30y2ftXa-ykUyFA_Q61WSu7Bkdd_SMp8NoBPsDB8DD4TJIy1NHjBYvrFmEEp49kSvZt1AizZf8_MQGTJ7WV7rheJWAFeU5VnDMfAW9y8BYffy9p2O90/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FWH2-lDQ-7NeUM8r-MO4XX_8n30y2ftXa-ykUyFA_Q61WSu7Bkdd_SMp8NoBPsDB8DD4TJIy1NHjBYvrFmEEp49kSvZt1AizZf8_MQGTJ7WV7rheJWAFeU5VnDMfAW9y8BYffy9p2O90/s1600/001.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Steve Frazee books were special. Grandpa and Steve were friends. Grandpa told me the story of how they met in 1934. Grandpa was walking from Westcliffe, where he worked at a dairy after high school, to Turret, the tiny mining camp east of Salida where his parents lived. He'd walked all day and half the night before falling asleep along the trail. He was awakened by Steve Frazee. Steve walked the rest of the way to Turret with him, where Steve lived with his dad.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDMjPb3CWSy_tqu514zA10Tgrmbx9jvxZZyrQgXZcGA5r7W6HGO5iaJycvKOtVnTHWsGEZ5tj9645SXjBy7PTz14kVZTq3r3_qX3N035ZE9jnlo-kYMyQ4qO1pHygLZuzDljK4SU8cy8-2/s1600/Mrs.+Earp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDMjPb3CWSy_tqu514zA10Tgrmbx9jvxZZyrQgXZcGA5r7W6HGO5iaJycvKOtVnTHWsGEZ5tj9645SXjBy7PTz14kVZTq3r3_qX3N035ZE9jnlo-kYMyQ4qO1pHygLZuzDljK4SU8cy8-2/s1600/Mrs.+Earp.jpg" width="224" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn't until I started writing my book that I became aware Steve Frazee had been the President of Western Writers of America in 1955-1956. He was the third president of the organization.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I find it interesting that today, I happen to know the current President of Western Writers of America, Sherry Monahan. Sherry recently began her term as President at the annual WWA Convention in Sacramento. Sherry and I met through Women Writing the West and worked together on marketing for the group when she was the VP of Marketing. I am very excited for Sherry as she steps into this new role. This is one of her latest books, one I happened to buy when I was in Tombstone this year, making it even more special to me. Here's the link to Sherry's website <a href="http://sherrymonahan.com/">http://sherrymonahan.com/</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Westerns, storytelling and a love for central Colorado, the ties that bind a grandfather and granddaughter. I still have Grandpa's paperbacks and every once in a while I pull one out to read.</span><br />
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<br />Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-22657646025472917702014-07-04T11:37:00.001-06:002017-02-27T11:33:07.420-07:00Past and Present Alder, Colorado<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1PQTgfjS7ycIQQVTlwYsuRAuwo-0fopktrIRf_MyvfGGGNQ2i-UANMFD1-m7f9xoGGBIlkZNXgJDUXHDo99O2C29vjNotwXEOgyHT6jRi7ac-JAMSh-19fNVyDZDUezRxDGsfSwXwSDh/s1600/031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1PQTgfjS7ycIQQVTlwYsuRAuwo-0fopktrIRf_MyvfGGGNQ2i-UANMFD1-m7f9xoGGBIlkZNXgJDUXHDo99O2C29vjNotwXEOgyHT6jRi7ac-JAMSh-19fNVyDZDUezRxDGsfSwXwSDh/s1600/031.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town of Alder, Colorado along Hwy. 285 viewed from the west</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In 1926, my great-grandfather, Lewis Christison, moved his family to Alder, Colorado on the south side of Poncha Pass where he worked as a miner and prospector. My Grandpa, Ken Christison, Sr., was nine years old and attended school at Alder. Grandpa told a few stories to my Dad in the early 1970's about his memories of living at Alder while Dad
recorded the stories on cassette tape. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Grandpa told
stories about events like an explosion waking him in the middle of the night
during the winter. When he got up, he found his dad had shot a rat in the
cellar with the only gun he had – a <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">.30-.30 rifle.
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In May, the
family moved up the creek to “Old Man” Carothers cabin. On Grandpa’s tenth birthday,
May 19, 1927, his dad gave him his first .22 rifle along with a box of 50 short
shells, the only shells he could have until he shot his first rabbit. He traded
three short shells for two long rifle shells for an emergency. One day, Grandpa
was taking a lunch up the hill to his dad and saw two bears. Grandpa ran, then
stopped and put in a long rifle shell. The bears didn’t chase him, though. His
brother, Ted, measured the tracks of the bears and they were 27 feet apart
running up hill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last week, John
and I camped in a small meadow surrounded by aspen and spruce trees at Alder
Creek. I called my Dad, who now lives in North Carolina, and asked if he had
any idea where Grandpa had lived. Yes, Grandpa had shown him where several
cabins had once stood and he had lived in one of them. I am guessing this was the Carothers cabin. Dad described crossing
the creek at one place and driving a bit up the creek with boulders in it. The
cabins had been on the right side of the road below the beaver dam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We jumped on
the 4-wheeler and hit the trail. We had ridden up the trail the day before, so
we were a little familiar with what Dad described, but also realized things had
changed since the last time Dad had been here forty years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">To get our
bearings, we drove to the west side of the beaver pond. Instead of one small
pond, there appeared to be a series of ponds or even one large pond. We could see
glimpses of water through the trees for ½ a mile. But we couldn’t find a trail
along the ponds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dad spoke of
the road running alongside the creek. The main trail ran parallel to the creek,
but was much higher up the side of the mountain. We found several trails down
to campsites on the creek, but not a single road along the creek. At one of the
campsites, the trail crossed the creek in the manner Dad described. We drove
through the creek and up the bank. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And the trail disappeared. Fallen trees and
washed out banks made it seem impossible for a road to ever have run there. We set out
on foot but found we couldn’t go any further. We wouldn’t be able to find the
cabin. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Disappointed, I looked down at the ground and noticed wild strawberry
plants all around me. The plants were in bloom, no sweet red berries yet.
Memories came to mind of visiting Grandpa’s mining claim on Spring Creek, the next creek over
and of Grandpa helping me hunt for the tiny sweet berries. Sweet memories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">UPDATE: Read September 6th post <a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2014/09/cabin-on-alder-creek.html" target="_blank">"Cabin At Alder Creek"</a></span></div>
Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-75446124709630461242013-11-04T17:02:00.002-07:002017-02-27T11:34:08.423-07:00Freedom in January <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCdluvMMchHDAdXDTQwj4jIK8rnSJ3Mp8OhGxILc-GxclDbgTx2J0cyqjGfUIksJLdTxs0KKDC51OJd8Nww7A9e85omK1p8qcI23z7LwQ5v7bl1cTbqNMIUDTOfWWY0lIGF1HemkLgebn/s1600/LCR-cover-4x4-for-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCdluvMMchHDAdXDTQwj4jIK8rnSJ3Mp8OhGxILc-GxclDbgTx2J0cyqjGfUIksJLdTxs0KKDC51OJd8Nww7A9e85omK1p8qcI23z7LwQ5v7bl1cTbqNMIUDTOfWWY0lIGF1HemkLgebn/s320/LCR-cover-4x4-for-web.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Barry Ward recently released his new CD, <a href="http://barrywardmusic.com/" target="_blank"><i>Lonesome County Road</i>.</a> John and I are especially honored that Barry recorded the song we wrote, "Freedom in January." The song is a little bluegrass number telling the story of Ernest Christison's (my great-great-uncle) jail break in Buena Vista, Colorado in 1883.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />Former Flying W Wrangler Joe Stephenson added the perfect fiddle part to the song for my fiddle-playing outlaw. And Ernie Martinez, nominated for the 2013 Instrumentalist of the Year by the Western Music Association, played the dobro, intoning a lonesome train whistle on the break.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYT9Qo3mHayHLtE7_mDnfLFgXcW9LqZA1EBhZeTdmPa6lAHc5R17FiE8gTwxhwC1Y5OismRWo00-NlEXENbMH6GqgNvFXm3NdyXUqNdWe-q-WSTa_sBBIK3oiyIyFzEtFd-hanWFO1VH4Y/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYT9Qo3mHayHLtE7_mDnfLFgXcW9LqZA1EBhZeTdmPa6lAHc5R17FiE8gTwxhwC1Y5OismRWo00-NlEXENbMH6GqgNvFXm3NdyXUqNdWe-q-WSTa_sBBIK3oiyIyFzEtFd-hanWFO1VH4Y/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /><br />"Freedom in January" tells the story of Ernest Christison who, along with ten other prisoners, knocked out a hole in the brick wall and "broke jail." The jail is now the school administration offices. At the back of the building, you can still see where the bricks were replaced.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Buena Vista Democrat (http://ColoradoHistoricNewspapers.org)</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvd96SDQ8lJ2-Pgo4QMB1cW1S89ZJiAAWnvi7FP35p2SCop2yF5DNF-Z8_CZeRnff5MqLSYWv7xVyk8m6JZJWeaPkX79WpQMNDENWrtNSY-YlxKKe9Ui-J-fjWqYPrmJTTPjA8BibEYGjy/s1600/DSCF0217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvd96SDQ8lJ2-Pgo4QMB1cW1S89ZJiAAWnvi7FP35p2SCop2yF5DNF-Z8_CZeRnff5MqLSYWv7xVyk8m6JZJWeaPkX79WpQMNDENWrtNSY-YlxKKe9Ui-J-fjWqYPrmJTTPjA8BibEYGjy/s400/DSCF0217.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ernest Christison and Albert Sweeny ran half a mile to the Arkansas River. This photo was taken 126 years later on the anniversary of the jail break. Fortunately for the men, there wasn't snow on the ground so they couldn't be tracked. They crossed the river and hid on the hill a while, and then started walking south to Salida. They crossed the river again near Nathrop. Thinking of the men walking through the freezing cold water prompted the line, "Freedom in January is worth the frost."<br /><br />Ernest and Albert made it to Thomas Cameron's home just north of Salida, where they found food, a Winchester, and a place to sleep. But Cameron's was being watched and the men were rudely awakened by "a shotgun barreled side by side" shoved in their faces. After they were captured, the men returned to Buena Vista on the train with an armed guard.<br /><br /><br />Lonesome County Road is available for order at<a href="http://www.barrywardmusic.com/new-cd/" target="_blank"> http://BarryWardMusic.com/new-cd/ </a> Be sure to check out Barry's schedule and see him in concert when he is in your area</span>. </span></div>
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Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-631136448793618065.post-62780402719805894632013-10-31T13:58:00.000-06:002017-02-27T11:34:53.947-07:00Rush To The Rockies! The 1859 Pikes Peak or Bust Gold Rush <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-huQ9oxaNljoSPZthd6vxlfcG6GLMTkeGN2u4Q1MsQIVSbAofHctZh1n8qrvo_jhXO9pwL9sRO7FSQVyFacnVRwL8cO83US4psYdWejFBSPez7lr8esj1kzmhzxjKXbEw0dPl7Ff4EJHl/s1600/RushToTheRockies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-huQ9oxaNljoSPZthd6vxlfcG6GLMTkeGN2u4Q1MsQIVSbAofHctZh1n8qrvo_jhXO9pwL9sRO7FSQVyFacnVRwL8cO83US4psYdWejFBSPez7lr8esj1kzmhzxjKXbEw0dPl7Ff4EJHl/s200/RushToTheRockies.jpg" width="141" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Rush To The Rockies! is the latest in the Regional History Book Series by the Pikes Peak Library District. In 2009, I presented my paper, "The Cash Creek Miners and the Lake County War," at the Regional History Symposium sponsored by PPLD and the paper is included in the book. Last week, I was honored to be a part of the booksigning at the book release event at the Penrose Library.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeEndiXbaOOScMqvYN9k0vUdumlZdwZPRJ03FitZ7Zg7IyYVcI5YXeL0QtDvmVKvr8O-r0Jb7IsJQgeAGKuwu9zFBZ6kpR_VNMTd6xiBAW6dgzmUEJd8y8ryUPEu9qj-zNskZGFmZpFN2/s1600/Wilburn+%2526+Elizabeth+Christison.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeEndiXbaOOScMqvYN9k0vUdumlZdwZPRJ03FitZ7Zg7IyYVcI5YXeL0QtDvmVKvr8O-r0Jb7IsJQgeAGKuwu9zFBZ6kpR_VNMTd6xiBAW6dgzmUEJd8y8ryUPEu9qj-zNskZGFmZpFN2/s320/Wilburn+%2526+Elizabeth+Christison.JPG" width="239" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Elizabeth and Wilburn Christison</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is exciting to see my great-great-grandfather's story and that of the Cash Creek miners in print. These men were Colorado pioneers whose lives tell the story of Colorado's earliest days.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />The connections I find in research fascinate me. I knew Wilburn was involved in the<a href="http://coloradoreflections.blogspot.com/2006/11/lake-county-war.html" target="_blank"> Lake County War</a>, which ended with the murder of Judge Elias Dyer (the son of itinerant Methodist preacher, Father Dyer) in his own courtroom. However, I didn't know he had more than a passing acquaintance with Father Dyer until I found the incorporation papers for the Pioneer Lode Prospecting Company. That is when I learned Wilburn and Father Dyer had been partners in a mining company at Cash Creek. And, as I looked at the names, I realized several of the other partners were also involved in the Lake County War.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OL3S5A5KOmLCVXHOHhHou1uz3pmshR28SSRJEwgqt3-X5Jda9Lmwj8tdjJpdXdY9jETK7m_7SCv8MP9SQWfYhwM0JNOPzaeV_TGHe_pSztB97QSxVypQqv3zirRJDAR_jzqsnb_2slsf/s1600/PPLD+Booksigning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OL3S5A5KOmLCVXHOHhHou1uz3pmshR28SSRJEwgqt3-X5Jda9Lmwj8tdjJpdXdY9jETK7m_7SCv8MP9SQWfYhwM0JNOPzaeV_TGHe_pSztB97QSxVypQqv3zirRJDAR_jzqsnb_2slsf/s320/PPLD+Booksigning.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Booksigning at the Penrose Library October 24, 2013</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rush to the Rockies! is filled with stories of the gold rush and early Colorado history making it a great addition to any Colorado history buff's bookshelf.<br /><br />Thank you to Tim Blevins, Special Collections Manager of PPLD and to his incredible staff for publishing a top-notch book.<br /><br /> I'd also like to thank my friends, Terry and Terry Courtright, who created the map at the beginning of my chapter.<br /><br /> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />Rush To The Rockies: The 1859 Pikes Peak or Bust Gold Rush is for sale for $24.95 at the Penrose Library and through <a href="http://www.clausenbooks.com/ppldhistoryseries.htm" target="_blank">Clausen Books</a> (it isn't on the website yet, but may be ordered by phone). It is also available as an e-book for $5.99 at <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/361676" target="_blank">Smashwords</a>.</span></span><br />
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Gayle Greshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225415106454396883noreply@blogger.com2