Archive by Author

Hawk Shower

14 Oct

My Take

DiVoran Lites

One of the hawk family 
In our neighborhood
Lights on the edge of a roof
And sits listening while
I talk this and that to him
He reminds me about his family.
His parents courted 
on the campus of our church
They danced in the air.
They landed on the grass.
Two hawks attending church.
Preacher with a sense of humor
Says, “Get a room,” 
But still, they dance in air
And swoop screeching.
Two mocking-birds
Can’t chase them away.
Eggs hatch, birds grow
Booming thunderstorm
Young hawk comes to our
Backyard fence, 
Clings to chain-link
With fierce talons,
Flaps wings. 
Happy in wind and weather
Happy in air.
Good hawk.
Clean hawk. 
 

By DiVoran Lites

Marie’s Note 4

7 Oct

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Marie in White (1883)

Jasper Newton Dulgar (1847-1944) was Marie’s paternal grandfather. He had two wives. Nancy Emeline was his second wife. She had lost her husband and between them, she and Jasper had a family of six children.

When they married they outfitted their kitchen with utensils…mostly made of iron. They bought an iron stove that came with a set of ironstone dishes, an iron stew pot, an iron tea kettle, and a big iron skillet.

They had a pair of black bread-pans that were made of a lighter metal. They were two feet square each. Emeline made two double batches of bread two times a week. If the bread dried out, she tore it up, put it in bowls and poured milk over it for breakfast. If there was a bit of extra bread at the end of the week, she could make bread pudding with milk, eggs, and sugar.

The stove used wood for fuel. Ovens in those days were temperamental but a good cook knew how to make her oven work right. She could have spent up to six hours in the kitchen every day, except Sunday. Most likely she made enough food on Saturday to take to church the next day. It seems that most of the hard-working farmers believed in the Lord Jesus and wanted to be together on that day to learn more about Him plus they needed the rest and the company.

One winter Jasper discovered there were Indians living in dirt caves somehow worn into the bank of a stream. Being so close to “wild” Indians, was a bit scary at first, but they left each other alone. 

Speaking of Indians, my friend, Patricia Franklin in Colorado is of pioneer stock, too. She tells a story that goes like this:

“In the 1800s when my grandfather was a small boy he pulled a kettle of boiling water off the stove and down the front of his body. Since a doctor had never lived in the Wet Mountain or anywhere close, his mother hitched up the horses, put him in the wagon and drove twenty-five miles over rough terrain to an Indian camp where her Indian friends lived. She left him there with them, and several months later, they returned him to his home totally healed except for the scarring of his torso and legs. He would have those throughout his long life. 

Photocredit Pixabay

Now back to Jasper. As Jasper grew old and frail, sons and daughters took over the hard work of the farm while Jasper spent some of his days as an unpaid county clerk. Because he had been there when the area was first settled he was the only person who could remember who lived where and when they lived there. In good weather, he sat out front with his squirrel gun on his lap. In the picture, he has something else on his lap—a birthday cake. I wish I could count the candles, but by this time he was 97 and that was the year in which he died.  

Jasper Newton Dulgar 1844

I was born in ’38 and Jasper was still alive back east, but I never got to meet him. When I was twelve years old, however, my grandmother Marie and grandad Ira took me by car to Illinois and I met many fine relatives, most of them still farmers. When we got there, I slept in a feather bed for the first time in my life. 

Marie 1942 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Marie’s Notes 3

30 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

My grandmother, Marie Dulgar, remembered the clay pipe her grandmother, Nancy Emmeline Dulgar smoked. It was short and small, the size of a large sewing thimble. The face of an Indian had been engraved on it. She sat in her rocking-chair on the wooden porch smoking and watching the world go by.

She wore four petticoats. Her second one was green and had a long pocket where she carried her tobacco. The boys in the family had enjoyed stealing it when she wasn’t looking, but now they could not get to it. They were flummoxed for a while but easily found other worlds of mischief to get into.

This grandma was the storyteller in the family so the children didn’t want to bother her enough that she wouldn’t tell the stories. 

Marie said that her family had bad tempers. That was the Dulgars. Her husband’s family had bad tempers, too. That was the Bowers family. The Coopers who were ancestors of the Bowers family lived in a sad and gloomy house because Solomon Cooper worked as a coffin maker. In his shed, he made mummy-shaped wooden coffins measured to fit the deceased.

This is a tintype photograph of the Coopers. There was no tin used in these pictures but a lacquered piece of thin metal, usually iron was used. This type of picture was most common between the years of 1860-1890. It’s amazing and thrilling that we have our very own tintype passed down for four generations. The more I see even the oldest pictures taken in America, the more I am convinced that the most primitive takes turned out sharp and clear, even though early on the film was known to burst into flame and burn down theaters.

Coincidently Bill’s and Judy’s grandfather was a coffin-maker/undertaker too. This man once made a beautiful coffee table from a large and valuable piece of wood that fell off a train. He gave it to his daughter, Jessie, and she still had it when I knew her. By then it had become a priceless antique.

William King

Addie King, Agnes Lites, William King, and Billy Lites 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Hear, Here

16 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Let me sit on my porch

In the morning 

In a town where true friends live

Let me hear the call of the freight train.

And a neighbor rooster who crows.

And thinks he is always king. 

I hear an airplane

Droning West. 

I see the birds 

In our backyard

Flying, flittering landing,

Taking off.

Taking baths

Chirping from a 

A telephone wire

The mocking bird and the blue jay

Steal one another’s calls 

And Sand Hill Cranes fly south.

Photo credit for all pictures in the above post- Pixabay

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Marie’s Notes

9 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

A Story From the Mid-1800s

My grandmother Marie told my Mother Dora everything she could remember about the history of her family. Here is one of the very-short stories. In the mid-1800-s, three generations before my grandmother, Marie Bowers was born, William McElwee came to America from Ireland on a ship. He had red hair. Out of ten children Marie’s family had five redheads and Marie was one of them. I wanted to be a redhead, so I went to beauty school and then I became one.

Paul, the next to the youngest of Marie’s brothers and sisters was one of the redheads. Because William McElwee, (Bill) bore the label of bound-boy, he was probably kidnapped from a big city and placed aboard a ship coming to America. He may have been no older than seven. When he got here he was taken to Illinois to work as a slave. An indentured servant expected to be paid for his work, but bound-boys and bound-girls expected nothing, not even love. He worked off his passage and then worked off his room and board and it took his entire childhood. The man who had bought him had owned a slave and the man who took the money for the voyage grew rich stealing and selling children.

Somehow, Bill overcame it all and became a homesteader and a wealthy horse breeder. One day he and his partner, Harry, who was a known gambler loaded their best stallion, Ace, onto the train and took him to Texas for a sale. The family had heard Bill say he expected to get at least $2,000 for the prize stud, ($60,000 today).

The family waited a long time, but Bill never came home. One day, however, in a nearby town, a relative saw Harry and heard that he had come up with a lot of money. Perhaps no one in the family was able to go after Harry or ask questions. We will never know what happened, but we do know that after Bill was gone, the family still fared well.

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Mother’s Family-Marie Part 1

2 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Noah, Marie, and Amy Dulgar

My grandmother, Marie (Dulgar) Bowers was born and raised in Jasper County Illinois. When she was twenty-one she married Ira John Bowers, a farmer’s son. They had two boys and continued to live in Illinois until the eldest was five and the youngest two years old. Marie knew a great deal about rearing children because her mother and father had produced ten of them, and Marie was the eldest of them all. 

The family move, “Heading West,” is described here.

After the death of her mother, Marie and Ira reared Marie’s youngest sister, Helen, and the youngest brother, Paul along with Ivan and Lowell, their own boys. That gave Marie two five-year-olds and two, two year-olds. Eventually Noah took his two and headed back for Illinois. I think it was to spare Marie and because the other grown-up brothers and sisters would be able to help with the children. I wish I could talk to them all now and get the details. Thank heaven Dora and Marie both told me family stories for all the years we were together. 

I’ve always loved one story Marie told about getting herself and the four children ready for church. Of course, they would have had their tin washtub baths in the kitchen the night before. All that was left in the morning was to dress them, brush their hair, and keep all four clean until they could get in the car and go to church. Marie was a good thinker and planner so she came up with the idea of setting the children on the floor with a bedpost holding them down by their clothes.

After going to school in Pueblo, Ira and Marie opened a beauty and barbershop in this house on Main Street. Later they bought a Victorian house to live in. They divided the upstairs into apartments and arranged a back room as a beauty shop with its own entrance.

Once the women’s block, now the prison museum. 

Ira went to work as a guard in the Colorado State Penitentiary. Marie once told me that the families of the prisoners were always polite to the guards they met in the town because they wanted to make sure theirfamily members were well treated. The penitentiary had the first electric chair in Colorado and also had a horizontal whipping post the men were forced to bend over for punishment. If you ever go through Canon City on vacation. You can stop in and see these items of death and torture. 

Marie and Ira Bowers married 63 years

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Available

26 Aug

My Take

DiVoran Lites

By DiVoran and Thea

DiVoran

When I put down my pen to scratch Thea’s ears.

I’m available.

When I wake up and pet her down at the end of the bed,

I’m available.

When I carry her in my arms on a tour of the house,

I’m available.

When I get out her play mouse on a long, soft line 

I’m available.

When I hide treats in the folds of her soft red blanket,

I’m available. 

Thea

When the back porch needs to be protected

I’m available. 

When I offer her my ears to stroke,

I’m available. 

When she needs to be awakened from a big bad dream,

I’m available. 

When she needs purring to remember that that life is good,

I’m available.

When she needs the light of my bright yellow eyes,

I’m available. 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Dora Jane’s First Years

19 Aug

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Dora Jane Bedell  1936

Granddaughter of Dora Bell

Mother of DiVoran Lites

Smithy and Dora with Photographer’s Goat

When Dora Jane Bedell’s family first moved to Canon City they discovered that the only available housing was a big tent on a wide space just outside of town. The whole family moved in until they could find small houses of their own.

 Julia May, Roger, and Dora Bedell

Dora says: 

“When we moved to 523 Harrison Street the cave we dug in the back yard, the chase, race, and hide and seek games we played and plays we presented to the neighborhood were a lot of fun. When I was eleven my prayers for a baby sister were answered. Her name was Julia May. She and I and the friends we made kept in touch for a lifetime.  I eventually married one of the boys we all played with. His name was Ivan 

I made it to second grade at the two-story stone Washington schoolhouse before I got scarlet fever. Mabel had already had one child who had died from a similar illness. His name was Ralph and he had a rheumatic fever which advanced to St. Vitus Dance. He was still only a baby when he died. *I imagine that made my mother even more worried about me.  Quarantine held me in my bedroom for six weeks with a high fever. Once a neighbor brought me a lovely tray of food. It had bits of cheese, some crackers, lunchmeat, and candies. I have always remembered her kindness in making it so pretty for me. I had to take second grade again at the big, two-story Washington school. It took me 13 years instead of 12 to get all the way through that and high school. DiVoran went to Washington School too. She also had the same Sunday school teacher Elvira Brown, a single lady. Auntie Elvira loved her children dearly and when she met her husband in later years, she loved him too. 

DiVoran:

I’ll never forget fours and fives Sunday School with Miss Brown. That was where I learned to sing, “Jesus Loves Me” and found out it was the truth through Miss Brown’s stories and tenderness toward us. I met her again when I was an adult and thanked her profusely for showing me the way. 

* Sydenham’s chorea, also known as chorea minor and historically referred to as St Vitus‘ dance, is a disorder characterized by rapid, uncoordinated jerking movements primarily affecting the face, hands and feet.

Sydenham chorea (SC) is a neurological disorder of childhood resulting from infection via Group A beta-hemolytic streptococcus (GABHS), the bacterium thatcauses rheumatic fever. SC is characterized by rapid, irregular, and aimless involuntary movements of the arms and legs, trunk, and facial muscles.

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Breckenridge 4

13 Aug

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Mabel Morgan 16 years old

From last week’s post:

“Even though Dora Bell wrote to the O’Shea address every week, she never got an answer. She was as worried about Mabel as she could possibly be, but she and Mr. Hunter had no idea where to begin looking for her. They started saving small amounts of cash so they could leave the mountain in case they ever found out where she was. 

It was two years before a letter came to the Breckenridge post office and the postmistress walked it over to the hotel where Dora Bell was cleaning a room. The letter written in a shaky hand had a Chicago postmark. Here’s what it said:

“I am in Shekakgo. I work at a bar on skid row, but I can’t make enough muny to come home.” Luv, May Bell.” There was no return address. 

As quickly as she could Dora Bell sold the cabin she had lived in for a quarter of a century to a newly arrived prospector. With Dora Bell leaving town, her long-time friend, Mr. Hunter had no reason to stay. Dora Bell grateful for the help and protection of Mr. Hunter packed up, and they caught the train to Chicago.

When they got there they went into every bar on skid row to inquire about Mabel, they met a gypsy-dressed woman who claimed to be a fortune-teller. She demanded money then told them where they could find Mabel. Later, they wondered whether she might have seen Mabel around and had taken advantage of them.

They went where she told them to go and ran into Mabel sitting in an alley under a stair-well with a baby in a box beside her. Mr. O’Shea had not turned out to be a gentleman Dora Bell had thought he was after all.  

Somehow they all got jobs and managed to care for the baby until they had enough money to return to Colorado. They lived for a while in Pueblo across from the gasworks. Young Mabel met one of the young men who worked there and after a time of courtship, Mabel and Roger married.

When Roger got a promotion to manage the gasworks in Canon City, they all moved there. A family conference decided that Dora Bell and Daddy Hunter would take Don, the baby boy born in Chicago and rear him as their own child.

Roger and Mabel started their family with Smithy, then they had a girl and named her Dora Jane. Later Mabel had another child and she was named Julia May Bedell.  

Roger Bedell, Vera Morgan, Dora Jane Bedell (4) Mabel Bedell, and Dora Bell Hunter

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Breckenridge Part 3

5 Aug

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Story by Dora Bowers and DiVoran Bowers Lites

Mabel never went back to school after she came out of her typhoid fever quarantine. She had lost all her hair because of the disease, but when it came back it was dark and luxurious for a while. Later on, it turned prematurely white.

When Mabel was sixteen Dora Bell made the acquaintance of an older man who was from Chicago and who stayed at the hotel where they worked. He stood at 5’9”, and had reached perhaps fifty years old. He weighed 175 pounds. He was well fixed and well-dressed in a worsted-suit and a snappy Bowler-derby hat. He wore a clean shirt every day, washed by the laundress at the hotel. Big words flowed from his mouth and Dora Bell admired how well educated he was. 

One day Mr. O’Shea introduced the idea that Mabel should go back to Chicago with him so she could get educated and make something of herself. Although hesitant, Dora Bell had to agree that there was nothing for her 16 year old daughter in the small mining town except ignorance and drudgery. Dora Bell decided to trust Mr. O’Shea. 

Picture by Amazon

Picture by Pixar

Mabel was thrilled and excited at the prospect of going. She had a lovely new dress and a pretty bonnet to protect her sensitive skin from freckles and tanning. Mr. O’Shea provided her with a coat to keep her warm during the long train journey. 

Picture by Pixar

Dora Bell was alone on the mountainside now. But she did have a long-time friend to talk things over with. She had met Mr. Hunter when she nursed his wife who eventually died from typhoid fever. Mr. Hunter did everything he could to repay Dora Bell for her compassion and nursing skills. They were able to talk about their sorrows with each other, and he wanted to do what he could to help Dora Bell find Mabel. 

Even though Dora Bell wrote to the O’Shea address every week, she never got an answer. She was as worried about Mabel as she could possibly be, but she and Mr. Hunter had no idea where to begin looking for her. They started saving small amounts of cash so they could leave the mountain in case they ever found out where she was. 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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