Slaying Some Dragons

[If you’d prefer to watch a video version of this blog, visit my YouTube Channel: https://youtu.be/uJBkk6BjE6U or watch at the bottom of this blog.]

Heroes in real life as well as in fiction encounter a variety of dragons they must slay. Some are internal, some external, and some require them to leave their families behind in order to experience the journey toward their ultimate purpose or mission.

Homer Hickam is a West Virginia coal miner’s son. His father, his extended family and his community expected him to follow his father’s path and vocation into the coal mines. His memoir, Rocket Boys, tells of his father’s adamant opposition to Homer’s obsession with rocketry after the first Sputnik launch. While other teens were preparing for a life underground, he was experimenting with propulsion even though his father, a mine superintendent, was a constant reminder that his life seemed predestined for the harsh life of a coal miner.

In order for Homer to fulfill his true destiny, he had to break free of the invisible constraints of his environment. Instinctively, he put together a team of adults and fellow students that shared a belief in him and his ideas. Failing miserably at first with cherry bomb rockets, he refused to give up, eventually designing a rocket known as Auk XXXI that propelled 31,000 feet in altitude and going on to win a Gold Medal at the 1960 National Science Fair.

He left home, as so many heroes must do, first to attend Virginia Tech for a degree in Industrial Engineering, and then to join the military, eventually winding up in Huntsville, Alabama with the United States Army Aviation and Missile Command. His fascination and expertise in rocketry and space led him to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), where he worked on the Hubble Space Telescope deployment mission, trained crews for a number of Space Shuttle and Spacelab missions, and even worked on the International Space Station Program.

Homer, like every hero, discovers people in his community that are supportive of his ideas, providing advice and guidance. In fiction, often these are sages that may never leave home themselves; from the rather mundane life of a school teacher in coal country to unadorned, sometimes drab homes of an oracle or philosopher. Sometimes these individuals open the hero’s eyes to a life he could not otherwise have imagined. Other times, they open the hero’s eyes to his own internal capabilities and talents.

Sometimes the hero is able to perform his mission without ever leaving his community, but most often they find themselves on a journey that takes them far from home. In Checkmate: Clans and Castles, my ancestor William Neely leaves his home in Scotland to seek his fortune and his fate in Ulster. That move would set off a chain of events not only for himself but also for his descendants, eventually leading his great-grandchildren to immigrate to America. One descendant, another William Neely, would be one of the first to settle Fort Nashborough, clearing the area of trees around the fort so unfriendly Indian tribes could be spotted earlier. William would die in a Shawnee attack, his daughter Mary captured and held as a slave for three years before managing to escape.

In each of their lives, they followed the hero’s journey: William Neely of 1608 venturing away from all he had ever known to follow his destiny in Ireland; William Neely of 1779 moving his cattle westward, his family following on their own fateful river journey that would change their lives forever (River Passage); and Mary Neely’s capture, captivity and escape in which she had to find the hero within herself not only to persevere and survive but eventually to triumph over her captors (Songbirds are Free).

Books show us what is possible in our lives even when we are surrounded by people insisting on us living mediocre lives. They open the door to different worlds, various cultures, bygone eras and always, always the hero. And in the end, they show us that in each of us lives a hero; in each of us lives a mission and a purpose that not only propels us forward but reaches back to offer a hand to those behind us, lighting the way. And with each one that follows, the trail becomes wider, the dragons sparser, the journey easier.

Watch the vlog on YouTube or below:

Irish Woman Seeking American Dream

Mary Neely's grandfather came to America from County Tyrone, Northern Ireland. Considered Scot-Irish or Ulster Irish, they had moved back and forth between Ireland and Scotland for generations as Irish land was given to them by the British monarchy, only to be taken away by subsequent monarchs and given again. Finally, around 1720 three brothers from Ballygawley decided to move to America in search of a better future for themselves and their families.

In 1779, William Neely, Mary's father, decided to move the family westward to Fort Nashborough, now Nashville, Tennessee on a river journey. What should have been a journey of three weeks turned into more than three months as 300 settlers faced constant attacks from the Chickamauga Indians beginning around present-day Chattanooga and continuing all the way to Florence, Alabama. Small pox broke out on one ship and when two sisters were captured by Indians, they nearly wiped out whole segments of the tribe through the small pox epidemic of 1779-1780. Even the river itself was cruel, as Johnny Cash described it in this song (starting at 2:06):

Moving to America and then continuing westward didn't work out as well as William Neely had hoped. He was killed by Shawnee warriors just outside of Fort Nashborough in August 1780, and Mary was captured and held as a slave for three years. She was brought through Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and into Michigan before she successfully managed to escape - but her problems weren't yet over. It was the height of the Revolutionary War, and she was captured by the British and held as a prisoner of war. While being transported to British-controlled Fort Niagara, the ship ran aground and Mary escaped again. She journeyed on foot across Canada into New York and all the way to Fort Pitt, where she was rescued by an American soldier, who transported her to Virginia, where she was reunited with her family.

The story of the Neely family's river journey is told through River Passage, which won the 2010 Best Drama Award:

And the story of Mary's capture, captivity, escape and journey home is told in my bestselling book, Songbirds are Free:

During Mary's captivity, her mother and one brother were killed in a separate Indian attack. Most of the remaining family died before the age of 30; only Mary and her brother Sam lived into their 90's.

Find out more by visiting this special section of my website, complete with photographs and videos taken as I followed the Neely's families journeys: www.pmterrell.com/maryneely/

Tuesday Teaser - River Passage

Only one day is left in my book tour for my latest release, Dylan's Song. I hope you'll join me at SeeJane Publish and also at Liza O'Connor, both of whom are running unique interviews.

The following excerpt is from River Passage, which won the 2010 Best Book Award. It is the true story of Mary Neely and three hundred settlers who ventured west in 1779. They traveled the Tennessee River, moving through Chickamauga Territory at the height of the Chickamauga Indian War. The book was determined to be so historically accurate that the original manuscript now resides at the Nashville (TN) Metropolitan Government Archives for future historians and researchers.

For the first time in her life, she heard an animalistic cry more terrifying than anything she had ever witnessed. It pierced the air and grew with intensity, the sound reverberating through the valley with such force that it seemed to be everywhere at once.

“Get the muskets!” Ike yelled as he leaned into the tiller, pushing and turning the long pole. “Push forward!” he yelled to those with poles. “Gather speed!”

Mary dashed to the cabin, her legs spread wide to keep her balance on the swiftly moving boat. As she raced toward the back, she caught a glimpse of the Jennings boat, the people moving about frantically, trying to navigate further to the northwest to outrun the Indians.

She reached the door and slung it open, grabbing the muskets that stood just inside.

She leaped and lunged back across the boat. Ma was racing toward her and as they nearly collided, she grabbed two of the muskets. “Hurry, Mary, hurry!” Ma screamed as she flew past her, tossing one of the muskets up to the bridge.

Mary could see Ike still frenetically moving the pole through the water, his body leaning forward as if he could will the boat to move faster. He anxiously glanced over his shoulder as Mary passed below him.

“Put down the guns and grab a pole!” he shouted over the din.

Mary quickly laid the muskets on a pile of sack cloth, grabbed a pole and paddled like she’d never paddled before.

“Put your back into it!” Ike was shouting. In tandem, the Neelys sliced their poles through the waters.

Mary no longer felt the hunger pangs that had plagued her for days; she no longer experienced the constant ache of muscles unaccustomed to rigorous labor. She was enveloped in sheer panic as the Indians closed in on the fleet like a pack of wolves descending upon sheep. Terrified, she glanced around her, catching a glimpse of Ma, Jean, Beth, Martha, Billy and Sam rowing like the devil himself was after them.

The Jennings boat was dropping back as only Mr. and Mrs. Jennings appeared to be paddling the small, overstuffed boat.

Ike turned to look in the same direction and then his eyes swiftly searched the boat. Seeing Sam at the stern, he called out, “Sam, keep rowin’, no matter what! Stay in the center, away from the north shore shoals, so’s we don’t get hung up. If any Injuns try to board, shoot to kill. Do not try to help nobody in the other boats. You hear me?”

Mary watched Sam as he nodded grimly and kept slicing his pole through the waters.

Then Ike called out to Mary, “Mary, take a musket and get to the children!”

She grabbed one of the muskets from the sack cloth and with a final glance at Ike, raced through the boat toward the cabin hatch. As she passed each of the Neelys, they looked at her with the same terror-stricken panic—all but Sam, who had a look of anticipation on his face that was more harrowing to Mary than the others’ fear.

“The children—” Ma managed to holler as she worked the pole.

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” Mary shouted as she raced to the cabin.

The cabin hatch faced the back of the boat. When she threw the door open, Meg screamed as though a murderer was bearing down on her.

“It’s me!” Mary shouted, rushing inside. In a split second, she’d taken in the image of Meg in the corner of the cabin, her thin arms pulling six-year-old Johnny and four-year-old Jane as close to her chest as she could. Jane was screaming and crying. “Are the Injuns attacking?” she screamed.

“No!” Mary shouted. “Pipe down! Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to you.”

She turned back to the hatch and started to push it closed. When the gap was only a few inches wide, she stopped. The boat was gaining speed. “We’re outrunnin’ ‘em!” she shouted to the children. “We’re safe!” She hoped God would forgive the lie, and she wondered at her own method in trying to calm the children. But she couldn’t think with their screams reverberating through the tiny cabin. And she had to think.

The Indians were stopping the chase, she realized as she watched. Dozens of canoes were simply stopping. As if the world had taken on a surreal, slow-motion quality, she saw their heads turning to look behind them.

As the Neely boat continued to put distance between them, she realized the Jennings boat had continued to drop back. They were too near the northern shore, she thought, too close to the shoals in their effort to escape the Indians attacking from the south. The beaches would jut far into the water, the shallows trapping any boat that came too close to shore. Especially a boat overloaded with furniture and heavy boxes.

And around a curve a mile behind them, the Stuart boat limped into view.