
I was born to wander; I’m convinced of this. Whatever lies over the next horizon calls to me and pulls me onward. Eventually this need to roam would be a factor in my decision to join the Peace Corps. It may be genetic. I come from a long line of pioneers and adventurers. Before Mother went trolling and landed Pop, he had lived in Nebraska, Washington, Iowa, Oklahoma, Colorado and Oregon. I’ve no doubt that lacking an anchor of three kids and a wife, he would have kept on going and going, just like the Energizer Bunny. Happily so. And so it has been with most of my ancestors.
Restless urges sent members of both my mother and father’s families on their way to the New World in the 17th and 18th centuries, and kept them moving west in the 19th and 20th. Puritan Marshalls packed their bags and sailed off for the New World from England in the 1630s. The Scotch-Irish Mekemsons arrived in Pennsylvania from Ireland in the 1750s, spent the Revolutionary War years in upper Maryland, and had moved on to Kentucky by the 1790s. My dad’s family tree shows that my Great, Great, Great uncle was a companion to Daniel Boone.
The cry of gold sent both Marshalls and Mekemsons scurrying to California in the 1840s and 50s.
George Marshall left his wife Margaret pregnant with my Great Grandfather on his trip to the goldfields. It was a good thing; no pregnant wife would have meant no me. George struck it rich, but his new found wealth didn’t make it back to Illinois. He was killed, stripped of his gold, and thrown into the Pacific Ocean on his way home, or so the legend goes. It was tough and often deadly on the frontier. Not that this cured any of my family from their wandering ways. The drive to roam far outweighed whatever the risks might be. One of my favorite family stories illustrates just how deadly frontier life could be.
William Brown Mekemson, my great, great uncle, ended up on the wrong end of a tomahawk (or several) during the Black Hawk Indian War of 1832. A 1903 book by Frank Stevens describes the event. The Indians had attacked the night before, stealing a horse. Captain Snyder decided to pursue the Indians the next morning and caught up with them “firmly entrenched in a deep gulch, where, in a sharp hand to hand encounter, all four were killed with the loss of only one man, Private William B. Mekemson, who received two balls in the abdomen, inflicting a mortal wound.”
Except it wasn’t immediately mortal. Mekemson was placed on a litter and transported back toward camp. Along the way he pleaded for a drink. A squad was assigned to climb down to the creek and fetch water. At that point the Indians struck again. Some 50 or so “hideously yelling, rushed poor Mekemson and chopped off his head with tomahawks…” and then rolled it down the hill. That was mortal.
The greatest wanderer among my modern-day relatives was my Grandfather’s brother, Edison Marshall, or Uncle Eddie as my mother called him. He was an accomplished writer quite popular in the 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s. His short stories even made it into the high school literature books of the day and nine of his books were converted into movies. The first to obtain silver screen status was “Strength of the Pines” in 1922 and the last was “The Vikings” starring Kirk Douglas, Tony Curtis, Ernest Borgnine and Janet Leigh in 1958. He had a long and profitable career.
I never met the man; his Augusta, Georgia mansion was a long way from our converted World War II army barracks house in Diamond Springs. But we did have a collection of his autographed books. They were swashbuckling historical novels that had his heroes such as Marco Polo wandering the world. Edison wandered along with them, doing research for the books and pursuing his passion for big game hunting.
We had a hand-me-down 1920’s Encyclopedia Britannica atlas of his where he had outlined his personal journeys in the map section. I spent hours staring at ink-drawn lines snaking off into East Africa and other exotic locales trying to imagine his adventures. (Years later I would learn that a brand new Encyclopedia Brittanica that I got as a Christmas present when I was 10, had anonymously been given to me by Edison and his wife.)
By then, I had the reading skills to handle his books but not the maturity, at least according to my parents. His books were restricted for sexual content and I was supposedly banned from reading them until I was thirteen, when I really didn’t need anything else to stir up my sexual fantasies.
Uncle Eddie was not noted for humility. “I went after fame and fortune, and I got them both,” he reported. That made his lifestyle all the more attractive to me. If he could gain fame and fortune through travel and writing, possibly I could as well. The combination of Edison’s books and his atlas gave me an early lust for travel, an appreciation of history, and a desire to someday write. So what if they didn’t come with fame and fortune.
In 1963 I had my first opportunity to wander away from home. I was accepted as a junior at the University of California in Berkeley, which, at the time, was about to become the center of a worldwide student revolution. My experience at the University, in turn, would lead to an even greater chance to travel, the Peace Corps.
So it’s off to Berkley I go next where I leave my conservative heritage behind, sit on the floor singing “We Shall Overcome” with Joan Baez, and stand on the Dean’s desk in my socks to give a speech on why students should have the right to participate in local Civil Rights demonstrations.
NEXT POSTS:
Friday’s Travel Blog: Since I am still taking photos of the ocean, I will share some photos on why I love the desert taken along Nevada’s Highway 95 between Reno and Las Vegas.
Monday’s Blog-a-Book from “It’s 4 AM and a Bear Is Standing on Top of Me”: I am kicked out of the First Grade for a year because of forgery and begin my wandering ways by heading across the alley to the jungle-like graveyard where I can let my imagination run wild.
Well, at least you had the decency to take off your shoes.
Of course. 🙂 As protests go, AV, it was one of the most controlled I have ever experienced. Until the Oakland Police arrived…
Ah, yes, the Oakland Police. I’ve had my share of protests there. What the hell were they doing in Berkeley?
I can understand the wish to travel + make money at it, but spending time on the Dean’s desk? Well, let’s just say I was thinking about other things in college.
I suspect you were, G. 🙂 You probably didn’t organize a protest over Senior Ditch Day in high school. And there, I was fighting for tradition! Grin. –Curt
Well, my parents got the wanderlust and travelled thousands of miles on a boat with their six children in 1956 and started a new life in Australia. Gee, that too took some guts.
Yes it did, Gerard. It takes a certain kind of person to leave behind everything that is known and comfortable for a fresh start in an unknown environment. And with six kids! –Curt
I knew we were fellow protesters at heart.
🙂 I had a hint as well. 🙂 🙂
OMG laughing out loud – before mother went trolling?!! Too funny.
Enjoyed this episode. Didn’t want it to end.
I think wandering must be in my genes too since my parents and all their four children have roamed the world far and wide.
Looking forward to the next instalment.
Alison
I’d say that you and Don are dedicated wanderers, Alison. And it sounds like your family is as well. Does it go back to your ancestors?
I’m glad that you enjoyed the first tale in my backpacking/wilderness book. (It’s really more about getting out in the woods than it is backpacking.) That first Trek was burned into my memory banks. I enjoyed writing about it. I thought it would make a good kick off to the book.
The next stories will be a bit, but not too much, milder, and still included the humor that time allows. 🙂 Thanks. Curt
What an adventurous bunch your ancestors were Curt.
My Granddad was a big traveller – he was a bus driver with London Transport.
At least a restless bunch, Andrew.
As for your grandfather, there is a man with millions of miles and thousands of human encounters from just about every culture on earth behind him. 🙂 –Curt
My grandmother worked at a jam factory so when we visited we got lots of marmalade and a London Rover travel ticket!
Were the London Rover tickets the beginnings of your wandering ways, Andrew? 🙂
Maybe so Curt, maybe so!
🙂
You have an impressive knowledge of your forbears, Curt, may I ask if that’s research or just family stories passed down?
… that’s forebears, sorry!
I’ve been for bears for a long time, Dave, except when thy are knocking over my garbage can or standing on top of me. 🙂
😀
A mixture, Dave. But more on the side of family research. I spent a year wandering around the US doing genealogical research. It also took me to Scotland.
Sounds fun. The McMekemsons, perhaps? 😉
Close, Dave. More than you imagine. Going back to Revolutionary War times, I found the name spelled a dozen different ways, including McKimson, Makemson and on and on. 🙂
Wow, totally and completely fascinating Curt. I really enjoyed this post and look forward to reading more…..
Thanks, Sylvia. Glad you found it interesting. I’ll continue to roll them out, one week at a time. 🙂 –Curt
Curt,
Trying to track down any family left of Edison Marshall’s. Could you email for a reply and I will let you know the reason for the inquiry. Hint, I grew up in the house you have the photo of.
Mark Hughes
Hi Mark, be glad to send you what I have although it is dated. Will need your email. Mine is cvmekemson@gmail.com