Chapter 7: Growing Up & New Discoveries

As the years passed, Marion grew into a lovely, popular young woman. She attended school and had an active social life. She also was always near the top of class and loved debate and politics. Her world view expanded with her opportunities.

Grandma & Grandpa Whitney and Grace all encouraged her in her studies, they always took it for granted that she would go to college somewhere. Grandpa Sam bought Marion a camera for her 16th birthday. The young woman quickly became an accomplished amateur photographer. The Whitneys also took the National Geographic magazine, which Marion pored over with a fine-toothed mind every month. Her dreams of travel and adventure just continued to grow.

She wanted to travel and take pictures like the ones she saw in the magazine, but she wasn't sure if women could do that. Her mother and grandparents saw no reason that she couldn't make that her future. So they decided that Marion should attend the University of Missouri's famous Journalism school.

However, Marion never lost touch with her southern Missouri roots. Every summer she would make the train journey to visit Grammy and Grampy Snow and her Aunt Maggie in Steelville. Even through the years of the depression, she would travel to the small town in which she had spent her first 10 years of life. Every time she would go back, she would make sure to spend time in the library to look at "her" painting. The building was so unusual... a little Eastern, a little Western... and she wanted to know where it was, and more importantly what was inside it. But she had no idea of where to find out.

So one summer day after she had turned 16, camera in hand, she took a picture of it. While she was doing this, the librarian, Mary Bass-McArdle who'd known Marion for years entered the room in which the painting hung. She's known of Marion's fascination for the painting since the girl had been staring at it ever since it was hung in the library and had always asked questions about its location and occupants. Just the week before, Mary had been adjusting the painting and some yellowed old papers had fallen out of the back of the frame, which she carefully set aside until she could figure out what to do with them.

Marion was a bit startled when Mary entered the room, but calmed as soon as she saw it was just the librarian, "Taking a photograph of your painting, Marion?"

"Yes, I want to make sure I can carry the details with me. I just hope I have enough light to get a good one," replied Marion.

"It's bright enough in here today, I think you will be able to," the librarian commented. "By the way, I think I have something that might give you at least some clues to help answer your questions about that crazy painting."

Marion almost dropped her camera in anticipation,"Really, what is it?"

Mary related the story of the papers falling out of the back of the painting as she walked to the main desk of the library. When they got to the desk, the librarian handed the young woman a thin manila envelope.

Carefully, Marion undid the clasp and peered inside a moment before pulling the aging pages out into the bright morning light. There were exactly 5, 4 were floor plans and 1 was a letter. She looked through them eagerly but gingerly. At least she had a name for the building now, "Old Central" but that didn't mean anything to her. She looked inquisitively at Mary, who answered with a shrug and look at blank as her own.

"Can I find some way to copy these?" asked Marion.

"I would like to keep them with the painting, but you are welcome to take a picture of them or trace them, " Mary replied.

"Do you have any paper I can use?"

Mary indicated that she had both paper and pencils that the girl could use to copy the papers as best she could. Marion eagerly accepted them and spent the remainder of the June afternoon hand copying every detail.

The Letter:

I.E.,

I hope these words find you well. I have included a painting of the completed Old Central, along with the floor plans for the public areas. I am quite proud of the finished results of our new home. As you can see, there is now more than enough space to adequately host events, as well as means to provide security for guests. With that in mind, I do hope you will visit for a winter season soon. You would be surprised at the growth of my fair town. C.E. and E.E. are doing well enough in their endeavors. Stay well, and write when possible.

Unconquered I Remain,
W.E.

Chapter 6: A Journey & A Meeting

The trip to St. Louis would have been a lot faster, but the train had plenty of little stops to make in all kinds of little towns. They would just get up to full speed when they would have to slow for the next one. The first few town names were at least vaguely familiar to Marion... Leasburg, Bourbon, Sullivan... but the ones with alien names just piqued the girl's imagination... St. Clair, Catawissa, Shrewsbury.

To be sure, there were other names along the way, but they all blended together in a haze of excitement, despite her initial trepidation. Every stop had different people performing a similar routine of departures, arrivals, cargo and mail. All of it fascinated her and she felt like she was part of some great ocean of the indefinable. Marion wondered at every road she could see leading away from the train depots... she wanted to explore them all to their ends and see what was to be found there.

And the people, the fascinating people... she excitedly pointed out all the bright colors and strange hats people were wearing. It made her life in Steelville seem so drab in comparison... like stepping out of a photograph into a painting. There was color, like her dreams and pictures in library books. In Marion's mind, color and dreams and strange roads and new people all equaled adventure... suddenly the change which had frightened her was but a quiet hum in the back of her mind.

As they neared St. Louis, the number of buildings and roads and people and cars and busy-ness just continued to increase. The little girl felt both a growing trepidation and excitement, which left her with a strange combination of giddy and queasy. The city thickened and drew in closer and the train went ever more slowly until a building with what seemed to be a million trains and two million people moving about loomed ahead of them. Marion's butterflies fluttered as fast as her heart was beating and she looked up at her mother, who seemed as cool as the proverbial cucumber.

"Mama, what is this place?", she asked with eyes wide.

"This is Union Station, my love," answered Grace.

"I never knew there were so many trains or big buildings or people in the world," answered the child.

Her mother replied, "It's certainly a change for you. It will be a change for me too, having lived in Steelville as long as I have."

Marion continued, "Are people nice here?"

"Marion, people are generally about the same, no matter where you go. What have you learned from all those books you have read?"

The child was thoughtful for a minute, "Well it seems like civilized people are better than the non-civilized."

Grace, always trying to challenge her child, "What makes people civilized?"

"Being American!" exhorted Marion without a second thought.

"Why are Americans civilized?", the mother asked.

This stalled the girl for a mere moment, "Because we have the Constitution and the 4th of July!"

Had the train not stopped abruptly, Grace would have continued the conversation with her daughter. But as it was, people were starting to move about and retrieve their belongings from the overhead racks and crowd towards the exits. Marion and her mother waited patiently for their turn to exit the train.

They descended the steps to the train platform, Grace grasped Marion's hand firmly as they entered the crush of people. On their way to the baggage car, the child noticed an older couple standing out of the worst of the throng, as though surveying it grimly. The woman looked a lot like her mother, she thought. Suddenly these two people were next to them in the thick of the arrivals, smiling broadly.

"Grace? Is that you?", the woman said loudly and as though she were relieved about something.

Grace turned abruptly upon hearing her name, "Mother? It is GOOD to see you."

Marion saw and felt years of grief and worry leave her mother. The child was confused but felt an inner warmth suffuse her body.

Grace and her mother embraced warmly and held it for a long moment. Very soon, however, they turned and focussed their attention on Marion. Before the women could say a word, the older gentleman swept the girl up in his arms, laughing out loud, "You must be Miss Marion! I'm your grandfather"

She was so surprised that she promptly threw up over his shoulder on a passerby. Grace and Dora froze in shock and horror... but Samuel just roared with laughter as he magnanimously handed the man who had been target by Marion's projectile his large handkerchief.

Her stomach settled and herself settled, Marion rode happily in her grandfather's arms, even though she was a big girl of 10. Nobody had ever focussed so much on just *her*... and she found that she liked it. In the blur that followed, they collected the one trunk that had been on the baggage car and were soon on their way to the Whitney's house in South St. Louis.

The house was not large, but was kept neat and comfortable, and had plenty of space for the 4 of them. Grandpa Sam and Marion grew especially close as the years passed. Grandma Dora was a bit stern sometimes, but always loving. Grace settled in comfortably and seemed to be more at ease than she had ever been down south.

Chapter 5: Of Trains and changes...

Aunt Maggie's wagon pulled up to the Cuba train station with plenty of time to spare. The train was expected at 9:45 and they had arrived by 8:25... so the trio went to a small cafe across the street from the depot. Marion was allowed the special treat of a doughnut and milk while Maggie and Grace each had a cup of coffee. The conversation between her aunt and mother was sad, quiet and yet hopeful. The obvious affection between the two women suddenly awakened in Marion a sudden "missing" of her Aunt Maggie, who had always been like a second mother to her and a guardian angel.

The last bit of their time together slipped away and they returned to the depot, Marion and Grace hugged Maggie tightly with heavy sighs on all sides. The two women hauled the meager suitcases out of the back of the wagon and set them on the platform. Maggie then climbed up into the seat of her wagon and turned the horses back towards Steelville while her sister-in-law and niece stood bravely awaiting the train's arrival.

Marion watched her aunt's wagon dwindle in size until it turned the corner some blocks away. She fought back tears, knowing that she had to be brave for her mother's sake and because Aunt Maggie had whispered, "Don't cry. Be the strong brave adventurer I've always known you to be!", in her ear.

The little girl squeezed her mother's hand and looked up into the face she loved so well. Grace smiled at her daughter and asked, "Are you scared honey?"

Marion thought about how to answer for a moment, "A little Mama, but I'm trying to be brave."

The mother hugged her daughter a little closer and said, "You're a good girl and that helps me to be brave too."

"Mama, what are Grandmother and Grandfather Whitney like?"

Grace paused at that inevitable question, but continued momentarily, "They really are good people, but when I was young we just didn't agree on some things. I think that will be different now."

Considering that, Marion asked a new question, "What is different now?"

Taken aback, the child's mother said, "Well I have you and your future to consider, before it was only mine. And your grandparents, your Aunt Maggie and I all agree on that."

"What kind of future, Mama?"

"Honey, that story is mostly yours to write, but I want you to have as many choices as possible."

"But did we really have to leave Steelville?"

"Yes, Marion, we did. If we stayed there, you would only have what I chose and none of the ones I threw away so many years ago."

The child suddenly jumped to another track, "Mama, do you think they will like me?"

Slightly confused, Grace asked, "Who sweetie?"

"Well, everybody... Grandmother and Grandfather Whitney, the kids at school... everybody..."

"I'm sure you will do just fine... and I am sure your grandparents will love you just as much as Granny and Gramps in Steelville did."

"Will I get to see Granny and Gramps again?"

"Of course love, there will be visits."

Marion dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt and stared intently at the ground, "I hope so."

However, the time for nerves and wistfulness was over as the train came easing up to the depot. In a rush, their bags were safely stowed in the rack over seats nicer than any the child had ever known, their tickets were checked by the conductor and they gliding towards the big city.

Chapter 4: Moving

4.

In 1927, when Marion turned 10, Grace finally decided that she could no longer make enough money in Steelville for her and Marion to have any kind of life. Grace also despaired of her daughter ever "getting out" of the small town that had trapped her when she was wooed there by Cyrus Snow so many years before. Grace's parents, Dora & Samuel Whitney, had never liked Cyrus, and had, in a manner, disowned their daughter when she married the man, but they always told their daughter that their door was open to her if she left him.

Grace was inordinately proud and bullheaded. Also very intelligent, she was, unfortunately at times, very aware of it. That, coupled with her pride and tenacity, led her into marriage with Cyrus. She ran off with the slick-tongued bastard, and then found herself mired in a situation beyond her worst imaginings. Still, however, only reaching the brink of disaster would bring any admission of error or request for aid.

Maggie Snow worried long about Grace & Marion and had long conferences with sister-in-law regarding their situation. Maggie had tried to get Grace to write to her parents in St. Louis since Cyrus' final departure, but she would possibly have had more luck arguing with a rock. However, once her sister-in-law saw how desperate the situation had really become, she wrote to Dora & Samuel for the first time in more years than she could remember.

The return missive from the Whitneys arrived promptly for 1927, full of welcome and anticipation for Grace and Marion's impending arrival. The most important item in the envelope, apart from $20, was a pair of train tickets from Cuba, MO to St. Louis Union Station, dated for Monday, May 3rd, just weeks after Marion's 10th birthday. The train left mid-morning, so they'd had to leave Steelville in the grey spring dawn to load up in Aunt Maggie's horsedrawn wagon.

Only having made the 8 mile journey to Cuba a few times in her short life, Marion's sense of adventure heightened somewhat, despite the wagon jouncing her brain around for nearly 2 1/2 hours. She experienced growing apprehension as the familiar slipped away behind her Aunt's wagon... every bird and tree and stream were dear to her, as were the cousins and grandparents she had grown up with. Too soon, all she had known was out of sight, but would never be out of her heart.

Vaguely trying to picture what was going to happen today and in the very near future, Marion knew a whirlwind of change was hers, to be sure. Travelling on a train, meeting grandparents of whom she had barely been aware, leaving behind her painting and dreaming in the library, as well as her wild wanderings in the woods and closed up houses around Steelville. Her whole body shook as she thought of closed up spaces, too many people, and feelings of suffocation and darkness swirling sickeningly around her. Marion let her mother and aunt think that the shaking was from the cool morning air while she tried to focus her mind on the adventure instead of her fear.

Chapter 3: The Painting and the Yearning

As Marion grew, Grace kept them alive on a combination of family help and cooking & cleaning for families in town. She would also take in sewing, sell eggs, and do any other things she could to make ends meet, short of selling her body.

At age 5, Marion had already grown into a beautiful & charming child, of average intelligence but rather physically adept. She loved playing with the boys, climbing trees, and swimming in the many creeks and streams that ran through Steelville and the surrounding area. Enchanted by nature and the mysterious, she had a habit of sneaking away, either into the woods or into the handful of closed up old houses in the town.

The old house on Oak St. in the north part of the town was her favorite, being a two story affair with aging Victorian gingerbread. The house was simply locked up and the neighborhood hoodlums, such as Steelville sported in that day and age, took girls into the old place to explore the "haunted mansion"... as the old grist mill owner's house had come to be known.

When Marion first discovered the painting in the old house, she was drawn to it in a way that she could not explain... it hung in the parlor... in a dusty frame with equally dusty cobwebs stranded across it. The image of the strange old building on the canvas caught her imagination and took her to places that she could only dream about... certainly ones not to be found on the streets of Steelville's tiny existence.

A few more years passed and Marion's fascination with the old house and the painting grew. She wanted to know more about the building contained in that frame. She would steal away after school to the parlor of the old house and stare at the canvas in the lengthening shadows, connecting the strange structure and its imagined locale with the stories she found in the books of the tiny public library. She knew there were adventures out there, and while the woods and hills and streams around the town were full of interesting things, the world outside Crawford County was already calling her.

Marion's middle name should have been "Adventure", not Jessie. She thought nothing of sinking herself down into a crystal clear creek with a big rock on her lap and opening her eyes wide to watch the fish swim around her until her breath ran out. Things she saw in the woods, so strange and yet so intriguing, imprinted themselves on her mind... like the snake skeleton wrapped around the tree with the china egg inside. Despite the wonders around her, she still wanted out... dreaming dreaming dreaming of the world outside.

Grace watched her daughter grow with great satisfaction. Marion, from an early age, had a solid sense of herself and her world and yet seemed to want more. The mother dreamed of her daughter going to college and getting out of the limited world that was Steelville Missouri in the 1920s.

When Marion turned 9, the old haunted mansion was sold to the new car dealer in the town, who had great plans of remodeling the house and moving his wife from St. Louis. Ferrin Bass cared nothing about the house's tattered contents. However, being a businessman, he thought maybe he could sell some of the better items for some profit. There wasn't much of value, but the painting that Marion loved so much did go up on the auction block... but it was beyond her mother's meager earnings. Luckily, nobody else wanted it, so Bass decided to donate it to the city library, figuring that it perhaps had some value to the community.

So now, instead of sneaking into the old house, Marion went to the public library, read and stared at "her" painting for hours on end. (Little did she know there were some clues as to the location of building attached to the back of the painting.)

Chapter 2: The Lord giveth...

The next morning Maggie left, knowing that Grace's time with her brother and burgeoning family was destined to be difficult at best. She wanted to stay longer, but her brother wouldn't have it for long and being the only midwife in the county, her skills were in great demand.

Grace sighed deeply as she watched Maggie ride away on horseback, she knew keenly that her protector was gone. She loved her sister-in-law and had a hard time fathoming how her husband and sister could have possibly come from the same family. She hugged little Marion to her breast, "It will be different for you, I promise it will be different for you." Grace was not unintelligent, just limited in her options.

Cyrus hadn't looked at his daughter yet, he barely paid attention to his sons, except when they were loud or underfoot. His sensitivity got worse when he drank, which was often. Grace tried to shield the kids from his anger by bearing the brunt of it herself.

The drudgeful cycle of days continued for Grace and her family. Marion and the boys grew, as children will, despite hardship or other obstacles. Cyrus continued to be unreasonable, but mostly seemed to leave her and the children alone, including his insistence on sharing her bed. Grace was actually hopeful that he was sharing someone else's bed since that meant he would leave her alone and she wouldn't have any more babies. There was no sadness in her thoughts, more a sense of resigned peace.

Marion was just over a year old when news of something called the Spanish flu made its way to the tiny town of Steelville, but nobody thought much of it since it was all taking place on the coasts, especially in Philadelphia and many far away places like that. But as the spring and summer of 1918 passed, the news of the epidemic got closer and closer. However, Grace and her fellow Crawford Countians were still convinced it was a city disease. Fall came and the news filtered in about people getting sick in St. Louis, but that still seemed too far away. Grace's parents lived there, but she rarely saw them. She certainly didn't have the money to make the journey, let alone take herself and her 4 children out of their situation. Cyrus had blessedly remained mostly away with his women and his alcohol, which was fine with her. She managed to eke out a living from her small garden and cow... and Cyrus brought some money by to help out.

Grace only began to become alarmed when people in Cuba began to become ill... that was only 8 miles from Steelville. It also frightened her because it was the younger people who were dying... those close to her own 24 years. She feared what would become of her children should something happen to her. Early in October, townspeople began to fall ill and she tried to keep herself and the children away from anyone they thought might be ill... even to the point of keeping them in the house.

However, it was to no avail. Wayne was the first to fall ill, followed closely by Jackie and then Jesse. Strangely enough, Marion did not contract any sickness whatsoever. At first the boys just seemed to have colds, but they quickly developed pneumonia. Grace couldn't afford to call the doctor, but called him in anyway... unfortunately he couldn't do anything except offer some patent medicines that never worked anyway. Maggie came and suggested folk remedies, but those didn't work any better.

The trip to the hospital in Salem, 35 miles off, was too long and rough for the sick boys, so Grace just did her best to nurse them at home. But one night, Jesse's breathing became labored and ragged... then faster and faster... and then he was gone. His poor little body couldn't fight the Spanish influenza any longer. She was heartbroken over her youngest son's death, but the sorrow wasn't to end there for her. Several days later Wayne died, followed closely by the death of Jackie.

Strangely, Cyrus returned home at this time, not so strangely, he was drunk. He flew into rages and beat Grace severely and forced himself on her. He suddenly was full of grief for the sons that he cared about in name only while they were alive. He still had nothing but disdain for his Marion, his remaining child. It was almost as though he held her survival against her.

Blessedly for Grace, Cyrus' attentions were short-lived and he finally departed for the last time at the end of 1918, leaving her and Marion to fend for themselves.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Real World

Steelville, MO. A small town of no consequence, except for those lucky enough to have been brought up in it. Marion J. Snow-Essex was just one of those lucky people, at least in her own eyes. She felt her birth in a rustic, rural Missouri town gave her stronger roots than her big city compatriots and a deeper appreciation of the world in general. Especially since she was compelled to leave it much sooner than she would have, had she been making the choices in the matter.

Marion entered the world April 7, 1917 in a small shack on the outskirts of the small town, with the assistance of Maggie Snow, the local midwife. Her sheen of red hair just matched that of the midwife, who also happened to be aunt, but her eyes matched the shape of her mother Grace's. Grace was an interesting woman, a mix of typical small-town wife and forward-looking thinker. Marion was her 4th child, having had 3 sons in each of the 3 years previous to her daughter. She knew clearly what a woman's role was supposed to be but didn't much like it and hoped to raise her daughter to something more than the drudgery of small town or farm wife life. She didn't plan to have any more children and intended to drill them all in the importance of education as their way to rise above the seemingly impenetrable walls of Steelville & Crawford County, Missouri.

As Marion emerged squalling in the early morning hours, her father hadn't yet headed to work at the grain elevator on the edge of town. Cyrus Jesse Snow was quite angry that he'd had to make his own breakfast, "That baby was born by the time I was getting ready for work, my wife ain't some kinda' rich woman who gets to lie abed. Besides, what good is a daughter who can't work?" However, Maggie had elsewise to say about it and Grace remained in bed cuddling the daughter she'd always wanted.

Maggie busied herself and got a meager breakfast together for her nephews, ages 1, 2 & 3... like steps in the mansions downtown. Jesse, the oldest was first up.... followed closely by Wayne, the two year old and Jackie the youngest. They were all in their night shirts with hair askew, not sure of what was going on. The Aunt got them cleaned up and dressed in at least in a slapdash manner, but they were dressed and fed and she was able to check on her sister-in-law in the next room reasonably often. She also introduced the boys to their new sister before sending them out to play.

Grace looked tired, as any woman who'd just had a baby would, and no worse for the wear of having had 4 babies in as many years. Her blood loss was normal, leaving nothing for Maggie to worry about. Since this was her relation, she was going to stay the night unless called away to another birth. Maggie liked her position as midwife in Crawford County, it gave her access, information and freedom that few women in that time and place enjoyed. She also saw clearly the position of women at all levels of society, rarely did privilege make women more free, it just determined the restraints under which they lived. She had chosen not to marry and stay an active midwife and she liked it that way. For now, Maggie was going to do what little she could for Grace and her new niece Marion.

Cyrus returned home after a long day at work to find the boys happy as pigs in the dirt... and his sister trying to corral them back into the house to sit down to a supper of soup and bread. His wife was still abed, which spurred him to even greater anger, "Grace! What the hell are you still doing in bed? My sister is working her fingers to the bone, when you know she has others to attend to?"

At this, Maggie flew into an equal fury, "Brother, you stop talking that nonsense! You infernal fool! Your wife has just had YOUR 4th child! You act as though she had worked all day for a simple wage, rather than had her body turned outside for the 4th time in that many years. She stays where she is! And everyone in town knows where I am tonight if I am needed!"

Cyrus turned squarely to face his sister, raising his hand, "If you weren't my sister..." and his voice trailed away knowing that Maggie would fight back like a mad cat. His hand lowered slowly and his fury dwindled to a slow burn... but he didn't forget. He liked his women docile, not like his sister, who shared his fire.