Betty Zane

    When my mother was in grade school, her teacher gave her a book by Zane Grey titled Betty Zane. The story was based on historical facts that happened in the 1700s in what is now Wheeling, West Virginia. Betty Zane was the heroine and other main characters were Samuel McColloch, Simon Gerty and Lewis Wetzel. I loved that book and read it over and over. 

   When our daughter married and moved to Ohio, we went through Wheeling every time we went to visit her. I always thought someday I want to see the places I read about in the book, but we were always in a hurry to get there or get home again and never took the time to stop and hunt up the places. We went again this weekend and took a little side trip on Saturday to see some of the sites related to Betty Zane. We were blessed with a warm 70-degree day and colorful autumn leaves.

   Betty Zane (July 19, 1765 – August 23, 1823) was the daughter of William Andrew Zane and Nancy Ann (née Nolan) Zane, and the sister of Ebenezer, Silas, Jonathan, Isaac, and Andrew Zane. Ebenezer is known for building a road from Wheeling, West Virginia to Kentucky. "Zane's Trace" opened Ohio to settlement and was the only major road in Ohio (now route 40) until 1812. In exchange for his work, Ebenezer received a tract of land in Ohio which was named Zanesville.

 Three of the Zane brothers — Ebenezer, Silas and Jonathan — migrated from present-day Moorefield, West Virginia in 1769 and founded the first settlement at present-day Wheeling. The rest of the Zane family later joined them at the new settlement. At the conjunction of Wheeling Creek and the Ohio River, they began clearing land to farm, as well as established Fort Henry. The site of the fort is now under the streets of Wheeling but identified by a historical marker on the corner of Main and 10th streets. The marker stands at the entrance to the Wheeling Suspension bridge which was constructed in 1849 and easily identified by its red stone pillars.

   Two major battles were fought at Fort Henry. On September 1, 1777, during a Native American siege on the fort, Major Samuel McColloch arrived at the fort with 40 mounted men from Short Creek. To allow entrance the gates were opened for the men. Major McColloch lingered behind to guide and protect the men. The Indians attacked, and all of the men except McColloch made it inside before they were forced to close the gates. McColloch found himself alone and surrounded by Native Americans, and he rode immediately towards the nearby hill in an attempt to escape. McColloch had earned a reputation as a very successful "borderer" (one who protected the frontier borders from the Native Americans) and was well known to both the frontiersmen and the Indians. The Indians eagerly pursued McColloch and drove him to the summit of the hill.

   As he rode along the top of the hill, he encountered another large body of Indians. He now found himself surrounded, with no path of escape. He knew, because of his reputation and history against the Indians, he would be tortured and killed if he were to be captured alive. With all avenues of escape cut off, he turned and faced the precipice, and with the bridle in his left hand and his rifle in his right, he spurred his horse over the edge to an almost certain death. The hill at that location is about 300 feet in height, and in many places is almost perpendicular.

   The Indians rushed to the edge, expecting to see the major lying dead in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the hill. To their great surprise, they instead saw McColloch, still mounted on his white horse, galloping away from them.

   We drove to the top of this steep hill and had a beautiful view of the Ohio River below.

   Lewis Wetzel was involved in the 1777 battle at Fort Henry and again in the second battle in 1782. He was the son of John and Mary (Bonnet) Wetzel who moved to the Wheeling Creek area (about fourteen miles from Fort Henry) by the 1770s. Lewis was a scout, frontiersman and Indian fighter.  He was renowned for an ability to load his rifle while sprinting (perhaps by using smaller shot than other frontiersman as well as for always holding a few bullets in his mouth), and which probably saved his life several times during raids. He roamed the forests waging guerilla warfare on Native Americans and sheltered in a cave now known as Wetzel's Cave. I would have liked to see this cave, but it is accessible only by a hiking trail which I would not have been able to do. We should have done this twenty years ago!  Now I have to be content with photos I found online. The cave is located just south of I70, between Route 250 and Wheeling Creek.

   Betty Zane had a crush on Lew Wetzel (in the story, perhaps not fact) but he was not the marrying kind. He helped defend Fort Henry in the siege of September 11-13, 1782, when Betty was the heroine.

   A force of about 300 Wyandot, Shawnee, Seneca and Delaware Indians, under the direction of Simon Gerty, accompanied by a force of 50 British officers laid siege to Fort Henry. The colonists were disobeying royal order that all land west of the Appalachian Mountains was reserved for Native Americans. Simon Gerty had been captured by natives as a child and grew up among them. He was notorious for his savagery toward settlers.

   As the force arrived at Fort Henry, the Zane family, under direction of Colonel David Shephard, was charged with defending the fort. The defending force was made up of 40 men and boys protecting the 60 women and children from the surrounding area who had come to the fort for protection.

   The whole first day of the siege was wasted in attempting to batter the fort and burn down buildings. During the second day of the siege, the settlers encountered trouble. Their supply of gunpowder was running low, and they would not be able to defend the fort much longer if they lost use of the cannon and their rifles. 

   Betty Zane remembered the store of powder in her brother's cabin and volunteered to retrieve it for three reasons. First, the enemy would be less inclined to shoot a woman, and the twenty men still able to fight could not be spared. Second, she knew exactly where the powder was kept in the cabin. Third, she was young, and strong enough to carry the powder from the cabin back to the fort. What Betty Zane did not tell was that she had gone 40 hours without sleep as she was molding bullets for the men defending Fort Henry.

   At about noon on the second day of the siege, 17-year-old Betty Zane opened the front gate of Fort Henry and walked the 60 yards to Ebenezer Zane's cabin. There was a pause in the fighting while the native and British force stared in awe as she disappeared into the cabin. Betty was not as fortunate on her return trip. As she wrapped the powder in her apron and left the cabin to return to the fort, the attackers recognized what she had and opened fire on her. She ran the 60 yards up the hill to the fort and made it safely inside unharmed. The powder allowed the settlers to defend the fort until help arrived. In the morning the native and British force left as patriot Captain John Boggs arrived with 70 soldiers to aid Fort Henry.

    While the fort no longer exists, we were able to see a monument commemorating Betty's brave deed. This monument stands outside the Walnut Grove Pioneer Cemetery in Martin's Ferry, Ohio.

 

 The Zane family eventually moved from Wheeling to Martin's Ferry on the Ohio side of the river. Betty Zane, her brother Ebenezer, and other Zanes are buried in this cemetery.

Memorial stone for Betty (above) and burial vault of her brother Ebenezer (below).

Ebenezer's wife, Elizabeth, is also buried in the vault with him.

  Elizabeth "Betty" Zane was married to Ephraim McLaughlin with whom she had four daughters: Mary Ann "Polly", Sarah Nancy, Rebecca and Hannah McLaughlin. After his death, she married Jacob Clark with whom she had a son, Ebenezer Clark, and a daughter, Catherine Clark. Betty Zane died August 23, 1823. Her heroism is remembered each August during Betty Zane Pioneer Days in Martin's Ferry.

   Betty's great-nephew, Zane Grey, wrote the historical novel about his famous aunt, titled Betty Zane. When he could not find a publisher for the book, he published it himself in 1903 using his wife's money. The book was a success and can be purchased today on Amazon. He went on to write many other western fiction books. 

    I am not a fan of cowboy and Indians books and have not read any other Zane Grey books. The characters in Betty Zane are less than noble and it contains far more war and killing than you would expect a nonresistant Mennonite woman to enjoy reading. Why did I find this book so fascinating? I think it was the historical aspect, pioneer setting, and the fact that Betty was a real person who risked her own life to save the lives of others.  Also, the skillful portrayal of the Betty's character made her blossom under the author's pen to become larger than life. 

    Now that we took time for a little sightseeing in the Wheeling area, one more thing is crossed off my bucket list. I should read the book again.

   

   

    

What Has Not Changed

  Every July 4 there is a big celebration of the United States gaining independence from Great Britain. Those who fought in the Revolutionary War are seen as heroes. The English redcoats were the enemy. Time moved along and today England is among the best friends of the United States. The two countries are working together to help Ukraine fight to keep its independence from Russia.

   The eyes of the world were on England since Queen Elizabeth's death on September 8, watching elaborate and carefully choreographed ceremonies preceding and during her funeral. Multitudes stood in line for nearly a day to file past her coffin as it lay in state four days. Many Americans are fascinated with the monarchy and watch the royal family's movements. Few people alive today can remember a time when Elizabeth was not queen. Her seventy-year reign is unmatched in England's history.

   Immediately upon her death, her firstborn son, Charles, became king. There was no long noisy campaign to determine who would take the throne. It was his by birthright and he waited seventy-three years for his day to come. However, years ago he would have been disqualified by his marriage to a divorced woman. It was for that reason that Elizabeth became queen.

   King Edward VIII became king in January 1936 and abdicated 326 days later to marry Wallis Simpson, a twice-divorced American woman. A divorced woman with two living ex-husbands was politically and socially unacceptable as a prospective queen consort. Additionally, such a marriage would have conflicted with Edward's status as titular head of the Church of England, which, at the time, disapproved of remarriage after divorce if a former spouse was still alive.

    When King Edward abdicated, the crown went to his younger brother, George. King George VI reigned from 1936 until his death in 1952. George had two daughters but no sons, so the crown passed from him to his oldest daughter, Elizabeth. 

     Despite his marriage to a divorced woman, Elizabeth's son Charles became king upon her death. What changed since Edward VIII in 1936? The Church of England's prohibition of remarriage after divorce melted in the passing of time. Divorce and remarriage no longer carried any stigma and is socially acceptable.

    What has NOT changed is the Word of God and the words spoken by Jesus himself. “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery; and whoever marries her who is divorced from her husband commits adultery." (Luke 16:18 NKJ)

   Those are harsh words in today's culture, but the Word of God has not changed with the times. The Bible is not a smorgasbord where we can pick and choose what we like and leave the rest. Jesus said what He meant and meant what He said. He also said, "If you love me, keep my commandments." 

Every Little Bit

  The calendar says there are two weeks of summer left but the shift to fall has begun. Schools are in session, leaves are beginning to fall (drying up due to the dry weather), the AC is turned off, and mice are looking for shelter. Yesterday I wrapped up canning with five pints of pears and today I will do some fall housecleaning.

   August was the hottest one in 124 years of record keeping. It was also very dry and farmers started chopping corn in August because it was already dried. We finally got a good soaking rain this week which is another indication of the shift into fall. The dry weather reduced crops for farmers but we lack nothing. Gardens produced all we need to provide us with food for the winter. 

    Yesterday the news included a report on famine in Somalia due to a long drought. Babies are too weak to cry. People are trekking across the desert in search of food and burying their dead along the way. The lack of food is also the result of the war in Ukraine not being able to ship grain and oil from their ports. Although the ports are now open it is too late to get enough food to everyone in time.

    As I stored the last jars of food on my canning shelf I felt guilty to have such an abundance and not be able to hand some of my jars to those starving people. The problem is not lack of food but uneven distribution. So much of the food grown in the US is wasted. Food pantries and organizations such as Blessings of Hope and Helping Hand distribute foods that have been rejected for various reasons. For example, one company tried a different kind of lid on an ice cream box and didn't like it. There was nothing wrong with the ice cream but whole batch was rejected because of the box and sent to Blessings of Hope for distribution. At least it didn't wind up in a landfill where a lot of good food goes.

   I don't have any answers to the problem of uneven distribution of food, but there are things we can do to be good stewards of what we have and share with those in need. We are involved in a local food pantry, helping to package food to be shipped overseas by Christian Aid Ministries and Blessings of Hope. It's a drop in the bucket of the global needs but every little bit helps.

Fair, Not Equal

    I recently met someone I hadn't seen for years. Of course, we had to catch up with each other's lives. I asked her how many grandchildren she had and she happily said, "Fifty with four more on the way." I was stunned. She is younger than me and I found it hard to believe she had that many grandchildren. She went on to say they married young, had nine children, and some of them have twelve or thirteen children. I still found it hard to believe but I'm sure she was not mistaken. 

    I told her our oldest son has no children, the second one adopted his, our daughter has three, and the two youngest sons each have one. She said, "Then you don't have very many grandchildren." I suppose her next statement was intended to be sympathetic or comforting but she flippantly said, "Life is fair; it's just not equal."

   My first reaction was to think that's one way to put it. But the more I thought about it, I decided she was actually telling me she does not understand the grief of infertility. Grandmas who collect grandchildren by the dozen with no difficulty cannot understand how grandmothers grieve with their children when they are unable to have babies. We grieve for a child who never was as much as for one who died after birth.  

    It's so easy to give pat answers when we have not experienced what others are going through. That is true whether it's infertility, death, financial problems, wayward children, or you name it. We can spout off verses to trust in the Lord, or whatever, but that does not necessarily bring the comfort we think it will.

   When we had a stillborn son, someone said now I would be able to comfort others who have the same experience in the future. I knew that was true and nodded but my heart screamed, I don't want to comfort other people. I want my baby. "You have a family started in heaven." I don't want a family in heaven; I want my baby here with me. "I guess if you never had him in your home you don't miss him." What? I had him in my heart and I do miss him.

    Those who offered the most comfort were the ones who had walked the same road before us. I could tell by their faces and tone of voice that they understood. They could empathize, which goes much deeper than sympathy. 

     I'm sure I am guilty of saying things that hurt instead of helped when someone was going through something I never experienced. Or perhaps more often NOT saying something when I should have. It stings to hear someone say, "Life is fair; it's just not equal" when it doesn't feel fair. 

   I am not bitter about the way things have gone for us because I believe God knows what He is doing and someday we will understand. I have accepted the way things are and am thankful for what we do have. This comment was a reminder to me to think before I speak and try to be more understanding.      

    

The Extra Years

   We're in the eighth month of the year and it's been unusually full of doctor appointments in our family. Everything was going smoothly until March 17 when Leroy had a heart attack and wound up in the hospital getting three stents put in an artery that was 100% blocked. Fortunately, we caught it in time and there was no damage to his heart. But he had a month of therapy and months of getting his glucose under control with diet and medicine.

   The next day (March 18) our oldest son was hurt at work. His index finger was smashed, a hole slashed in the top of his right hand and a tendon torn. The hand was pinned together in surgery and immobile for weeks. After it healed, he had months of therapy to regain the use of the hand. He was finally able to go back to work at the end of July but is still doing therapy at home twice a day to regain strength in the hand.

   I was having trouble with a tingling weak leg and right arm, so I went for a month of therapy in May. I had good results but am still doing the therapy at home.

    An eye exam in June showed that my cataracts had grown to the extent that my vision could no longer be corrected with glasses. It was time to have the cataracts removed. I had the first one done yesterday and the second one will be done in September.

   Our second son is also having a cataract removed this month. About twenty years ago his eye was injured at work and he had surgery on it. That injury may have contributed to the cataract growing before he is an old man. He will have his surgery done the same place I did.

   We also have two brothers-in-law who are recovering from major surgeries. One had a serious infection after surgery and is wearing a wound vac to keep the wound clean. The other, who had been on dialysis four years, received a kidney transplant this week.

    A lot of things have gotten worse in this world during my lifetime, but medicine is one thing that has improved with the passing of time. The medical help we got this year was not possible years ago. God has allowed man to learn things never known before. People with the conditions mentioned above either died or were crippled for life. The medicines I take for rheumatoid arthritis were not available and people with RA were confined to a wheelchair with constant pain.

   Much as I enjoy history and old things, I'm glad I'm living in this era rather than hundreds of years ago. The aches and pains that go with old age can be treated. With the advances in the medical field, people are living longer than they used to. The challenge is to be sure we make good use of the extra years we are given. Sure, we lose strength as we age and can no longer do what we once did, but we can be just as active in Kingdom work in different ways.  Retirement years should not be spent in pleasure seeking and entertainment. There is always something we can do for the Lord. Ultimately, He is the One who gives life and healing.

Martin Burkholder

    Every Burkholder who knows something about their history will recognize the names of the Burkholder immigrants who arrived in Pennsylvania in the 1700s. Perhaps the most well-known of them is Christian Burkholder who was a bishop in the Mennonite church during the Revolutionary War. 

     Some of the Burkholders in Switzerland and Germany stayed there. And there were some who were not Mennonite. One non-Mennonite Burkholder who immigrated in the 1700s and settled in Lancaster County has been largely forgotten.

     Martin Burkholder was born in 1731 and naturalized in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, in 1760. He was married to Anna Eve Amweg and had seven children. They lived in the Reinholds area West Cocalico Township. The children were baptized at the Swamp (Little Cocalico) Reformed Church.

   Their first child died young. Henry, George and Michael lived in West Cocalico Township as well as their sister Anna Eve, wife of John Harnish. Peter sold his West Cocalico farm and moved to the Stouchsburg area of Berks County. Sophia married Samuel Batteicher and moved to Upper Bern Township in Berks County.  Some of the descendants of Martin, especially the children of George, joined Mennonite or Brethren churches.

    Martin died in 1811 and was probably buried in the cemetery of the Swamp (Little Cocalico) Reformed Church. His and his wife's graves may be marked by one of the many illegible field stones in the cemetery. 

    You can read the whole story in the July 2022 issue of Pennsylvania Mennonite Heritage magazine published by the Lancaster Mennonite Historical Society.

Swamp (Little Cocalico) Reformed Church built in 1806 to replace the earlier log building. It is now called Swamp Christian Fellowship.

Fifty-five Years of Blessing

   We have tried to take a family picture about every five years. The last one that was taken five years ago was for our fiftieth anniversary. We added some people since then, so it was time to document our tribe again this year. Here's where we started fifty-five years ago with a brand-new family of two.

Two years later there were four of us.

Daryl (1968) Dale (1969)

And then the two boys had a sister.

Cheryl (1971)

A third son joined the family and then we were six. 

Steve (1975)

The boys kept coming. Fifteen years after we began our family of eight was complete.

Gene (1980) Gerald (1983)

Our numbers didn't increase again until our twenty-fifth anniversary when a son-in-law joined the family. Tragically, we lost one of the sons (Steve, back row, left) in an accident about a year and a half later. Cheryl married Richard Miller in 1991.

The family grew as more in-laws and grandchildren were added.

Daryl married Velma in 1998; Dale married Tawnya in 1993.

And grew . . . 

and grew some more.

Then the youngest was married and we kept on growing. By our fiftieth anniversary a grandson was married. Gene married Amy in 2006; Gerald married Kelly in 2011.

Left to right--Dale and Tawnya with 9 adopted children; Leroy & Romaine; Daryl and Velma; Cheryl and Richard with 3 children and a daughter-in-law; Gerald and Kelly; Gene and Amy with one son, Grayson.

Five years later, we are blessed an additional granddaughter (seated left) and great-grandchildren (sitting on the grass to the left) have begun a new generation. Unfortunately, two grandsons, a wife and third great-grandchild are missing from the photo. In fifty-five years we have gone from two to thirty-one. We are expecting the number to increase next year.

Left to right--Gerald and Kelly with daughter Abigail, Cheryl and Richard with 3 children and 2 grandchildren; Dale and Tawnya with 7 of their adopted children; Daryl & Velma; Gene, Amy, and Grayson.

  The way was not always easy, but we have been abundantly blessed through these fifty-five years. "The Lord is good, His mercy is everlasting and His truth endures to all generations."