Each generation in our family has
produced one redhead, just one. My great-grandmother was one of them, and she
hated her bright red hair. She and Great-Grandfather moved to a sparsely
settled section of Wisconsin
in pre-Civil War days.
When her husband went to bring
supplies, she was left alone with her small children in their cabin for many
days, even weeks. While he was on one trip, a small band of Indians suddenly
entered her cabin. She was frightened out of her wits, but she offered them
something to eat. The Indians ate hungrily, carefully examined her few trinkets
and then started stroking her flaming hair. She was certain she was about to be
scalped when the braves left as suddenly as they had come.
Great-Grandmother had barely
collected her wits when one Indian stepped back into the cabin. She felt
certain they had drawn lots for her and her unusual scalp. She was so terrified
she could not speak. But the Indian simply handed her one of her trinkets that
had been taken by another Indian. He touched her hair again and disappeared.
This story has been handed down in
our family through the years, and it’s always pointed out that the red hair our
great-grandmother so despised was actually a blessing in disguise.
Mrs. Walter Kotula
Chicago
Back in 1955 a call
went out from the editors of the then CAPPER’s
Weekly asking for readers to send
in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early
settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from
grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were
received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My
Folks title – My Folks Came in a
Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine
other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from CAPPER’s readers, and we are proud to
make those stories available to our growing online community.