The Pony Express brought mail across barren desert, endless prairies, and over steep mountains from April 3, 1860 to October 24, 1861. The telegraph has often taken the most blame for the Pony ceasing operations, although there were other reasons. One-hundred-forty-five years later, the internet made the telegraph obsolete. The romance of that time lives on, in the memories of those who heard the tales of this great venture…
Mina Weston Anders bursts into her home to tell her great-granny that the telegraph is no more on January 27, 2006. A story unfolds, as Granny talks about an ancestor that Mina resembles…
Abigail Grace Weston's starry-eyed dream is to become the first female Pony Express rider. Ma, Pa, and six overprotective brothers won't even let her near the corral to train mustangs for the mail venture, so she gives up her dream to sneak out and talk to the ponies, teaching them to accept her weight on their backs.
Then her life changes and all her dreams are dust. Or are they?
She raced down the street, her sandy blonde hair streaming behind her. Mina Weston Anders had a very important message for one of the people she adored and couldn’t wait to pass it on.
At thirteen, she’d spent a lot of time studying the history of the Old West, and remembered a very important detail when their teacher told them that a thing people had used for one-hundred-forty-five years wouldn’t be around anymore.
“Hey, Granny!” Mina burst through the door of her northwest Georgia home. “Everybody’s talking about how there’s no more telegrams. Didn’t you tell me about them?”
Granny looked up from where she was knitting a baby blanket for the little brother Mina would soon have to look after. She hated the thought of sharing her house with another brother. Didn’t she already have five? Being the oldest, she was the one stuck with all the awful chores.
“What are you saying, child?” Granny leaned forward in the chair. “Are you saying that something killed the telegraph, that infernal contraption that sends telegrams?”
Following a series of devastating hurricanes in 2004, Calle Jenkins and her family return home to Key West. Finding nothing left but wreckage, her parents decide to start over. For fourteen year old Calle, starting over means finding friends who evacuated or rode out the storms, starting a new kind of school, and realizing that, for a while at least, life is going to be very different from what she expected. To help her cope, her mother gives her a journal written by a teenaged relative over a century ago.
Elizabeth Berg lives on Galveston Island in 1900, and despite there being some family troubles, doesn’t want to live anywhere else. To her, Galveston is heaven on earth. Until Mr. Isaac Cline warns them that serious changes are at their heels, and with them, the apocalypse. By then, there is no way or nowhere to run. All lines of communication and transportation have been destroyed.
Buildings were shredded and thousands perished as the winds howled and the sea rose.
For Elizabeth and Calle, life moved on.
“The Storm” of September 8, 1900 remains the deadliest hurricane in US history.
Home. My friends. Our house. I can’t wait any longer!
As Daddy’s fishing boat cut through the gentle waves, I leaned against the railing and trained my eyes on the horizon. Storm debris floated past the prow: dead fish, shattered planks, and limp, shredded palm leaves. Six long weeks ago my parents and I evacuated, and now were returning home. Four massive hurricanes, each more devastating than the last, had torn our state apart. Florida had never suffered anything so bad as Charley, Frances, Ivan, and Jeanne. Or so I thought at the time. Now, as we returned to our home in the Florida Keys, my heart sank. I’d just seen our property.