Over the past months, I have tried to keep my postings lighthearted and rather more care-free. I hate to say this month will be a bit more somber. Originally, I had planned on posting a blurb from a new series I have been working on, but that will wait until next month.
This month, I have chosen to write about one of the most loving and hard headed old men I have ever been graced to know. That man was my father, who passed into the arms of our Lord and Savior, this past Monday.
I know that I have mentioned not only my writing skills from time to time, but also my skills with other crafts. Most of those skills I utilize on a regular basis were taught to me by my father.
He retired from the U.S.A.F. in 1986 and remained a proud veteran until the day he passed. In fact, his last favorite baseball cap said “Retired not Expired” and had a collection of Air Force pins as well as American flag pins on it.
It’s an interesting dichotomy between my parents. I get my love of Native American history from my mother, yet I get my love of reenacting from my father. Even before I started reenacting at the age of sixteen, my father instilled a love of nature, camping, hunting and fishing in all of us kids.
Hello, once again! Thank you for joining us this month as we delve into the beginnings of one of the families of the Legends of the Landrun series! Last month, we looked at the MacKenzie family making the decision to go to the Indian Territory. This month we look at how they began! This is one slice of what is going to be one of the later books , which is going to cover the story of the MacKenzies and the role they play in not only the “Legends of the Landrun” series, but also the “To This You Are Called” series. Thank you!
Digory Mackenzie looks down at the small boy displaying the headlines of a newspaper, saying, “Southern colonies secede from Union! War is imminent!” The young Scotsman frowns. He was planning on going to New York City. Now, it looks like the American colonies are about to go to war with each other? He sighs. This was the last thing he’d been expecting when he left his parents house close to a year ago. His father was a railroad worker in the northern part of England and his mother a seamstress for the local magistrate. Digory glances down at his ruck-sack. It’s not much, but other than the ticket sitting in his pocket, it’s all that he owns in the world. He looks down the street and spies his destination: the Atlantic Runner. Knowing that there’s a cabin set aside for him already, Digory grins. Oh, his passage cost him almost every shilling he owned, but he easily expects to recoup his losses once he makes his way to the mainland of the Americas. Slowly, he makes his way down the crowded street toward the wharves. After stopping and perusing the wares of numerous street-vendors, Digory makes his way to the Atlantic Runner. As he arrives at the end of the gangplank, he espies a teenage girl that is obviously distressed, even wringing her hands, speaking to the longshoreman. “Bit, me lord’s given me safe passage!” she exclaims. The swarthy man shakes his head. In a voice made gravelly by the aggravation of years of salt water, he says, “Sorry miss. Captain’s rules. No unmarried women aboard.” Digory gives the young woman a look of apprisal as an idea forms in his head. At first glance, she might appear to be a young teen. Now that he can see her properly, she appears to be in her late teens, possibly early twenties. Oh, she’s quite the looker, that she is. Lithe and lean of figure, but with hips meant to bear children. Her maidens braids are a reddish-brown and, when she turns to look at the Scot, he sees her beautiful jade-green eyes. Digory steps forward and asks the woman, “Is tha man bot’herin’ ya ma dear?” The longshoreman stares at the threatening Scot standing in front of him. Impudently, he asks, “And you are?” “M’name’s Digory MacKenzie. I’m t’his lass’ husband.” Digory grabs the woman’s hand and leads her toward the ship. “Come ‘long ma dear.” Both the longshoreman and the young woman stare at him in wonder. The seaman stammers out, “Y-yo-you’re married?” Digory nods, then leans down, as if to kiss her on the forehead. “Whatcher first name ma dear?” he whispers to her. “Uh, uh, Molly. Molly McAnelly.” Digory nods and leads her by the hand toward the ship. “Come along ma dear Molly.” He stops when a hand roughly grabs his shoulder. The longshoreman demands, “Who’re you, to board my ship without so much as giving me your ticket, or a ‘bye-your-leave’?” Digory stops, turns and gives the man a hard look. “I woult recomment ya remove yer hant from ma person. Who’re ya, givin ma tha t’hirt degree? Hm?” The longshoreman frowns. “I’m the man supposed to be taking tickets.” He hefts a substantial-looking billy club. “I got me friend here ta keep ya from makin’ too big the ruckus.” Digory looks down at the slip of a girl at his side with a wink, then gives the abrasive dock-worker a long-suffering sigh. “Fine! Iffin ya insist!” With his free hand, he reaches inside his vest pocket and pulls out the slip of paper that was supposed to serve as both ticket and receipt of purchase. He hands it over to the man and gives him a hard look. “Well? Does it say I pait for ma passage?” The man nods. “Are ya gonna leddus board, or do I hafta get tha bobbies after ya?” The dock-worker looks at the page and punches a hole in the ticket, then looks back to Digory. “All right. I guess it looks good.” He looks down at the ticket and apparently notices that Digory has purchased a cabin. “Enjoy your voyage, sir.” He hands the page over, then turns to the next set of passengers, as he waves the pair on. Digory scowls furiously at the man. “I t’hank ya. Ya have a good day as well, sir.” He takes Molly’s hand once more, this time setting it in the crook of his elbow and leads her up the gang-plank. Halfway up, Molly tries to pull her hand away, but Digory sets his free hand on hers and presses down on it a little firmly. “He’s still a-watchin’ us. Wait til we boart ‘n t’hen we kin go our sep’rate ways.” She sighs disconsolately and stops trying to step away. When they reach the deck, a man checks their tickets once again, then waves the pair on. A scant ten feet from the gang-plank, Digory stops in fron of a door marked “Cabins. B-deck. 220-250.” He motions toward the door and says with a sad smile, “T’his is where ma cabin is. Iffin ya wan’, I kin meet ya fer some supper once we set sail?” Molly scowls as she yanks her hand away. “Look here, ya knave! I ‘preciate ya doin ma tha favor, but doan ya dare t’hink it gives ya any rights ta ma whatsoever!” She storms off, while the Scot watches her exit with an eye of appreciation. Oh, the darling lass makes a lot of noise, but Digory knows in the depths of his being that this is not the last time he’s going to see her. In fact, he’s quite looking forward to seeing her beauty again and soon.
Judge Rodriguez and his wife, Alanna, are currently co-authoring the Legends of the Landrun Series available in e-book, paperback, and soon hardback format. They can be found here.
Hello everyone! First of all, thank you for joining me this month as I continue some of the stories leading up to the beginning of the Legends of the Landrun series. This month, I set it up for John Cardwell. Hope you enjoy the read!
Col. Johnston, an aging, portly horse soldier lights a cigar, then leans back in his chair. At the sound of a knock on his office door, he says, “Yes?”
The story of David and Rebekah leaving for the Oklahoma Landrun.
By: Judge Rodriguez
Hello! Thanks for joining us this month as I continue the short story about David and Rebekah. I do apologize for the length, this will be the last article I do for this particular set of characters. So, without further ado…
In the last two years, David has formed almost as deep a relationship with Elijah as he has with Bekah. They’re just completely different kinds of relationship.