Ephrim's Journey

By Fred L. Funk

From the day he was born in the wilds of Kentucky, Ephrim Tribulation Rush’s life was a testament to his middle name. Orphaned in childhood, Ephrim is fortunate to find a neighboring family to look after him, and there he also finds the love of his life.

When their safety is threatened by outlaws, Indians, and the ongoing Civil War, Ephrim and his bride and their children set out on a journey to find a new home in the West, from Kentucky up to Indiana and across to Missouri. There they settle believing they have staked a claim in the Promised Land. But the promise is broken one day in 1865 when Ephrim’s life as he knows it comes to a brutal end.

Bit by bitter bit, Ephrim begins to heal, and his journey continues onward to Texas and the Red River, where he rebuilds his life, facing more tribulations but also more blessings. There also begins the dynasty that endures to the present day. Ephrim’s great-grandson, Daniel, tells the remarkable story to his own son, along with the unexpected and unsettling turn of events that fractured the family after six generations.

Fred L. Funk creates an exciting multigenerational saga loosely based on people and events in his own family, with well-researched historical and geographical details that chronicle a remarkable life and journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fred L. Funk
• Release date: Oct 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370746002

Fred L. Funk

Born and raised in North Texas near Denton. Graduated Denton High School 1960. Attended what is now The University of North Texas and transfered to East Texas State College to pursue a pre-theology degree. Served as pastor of numerous churches in North and East Texas. Later switched career to accounting and finance. Worked thirty-five years for a national retail furniture chain. Now retired and started a new career writing novels.Married to Dana for 52 years. Have two daughters and one son and seven grandchildred. Dana and I live in North Texas with two crazy cats that have agree to let us share the house.

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EPHRIM’S JOURNEY

A NOVEL BY

FRED L. FUNK

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2017 by Fred L. Funk

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the copyright holder.

For information, contact:

Tattersall Publishing

225 W. Hickory St., Ste. 131

Denton, Texas 76201

www.tattersallpub.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover and interior design by Crystal Wood

ISBN#

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my late friend Harvey, who was more than a friend, he was a brother. We shared the same birth date and month, but eleven years separated us. Just as depicted in the story, I don’t believe a man with more knowledge and ability at problem-solving ever existed. He had the solution for most any mechanical task and he always stood ready to help. Our life philosophies and beliefs paralleled. This one’s for you, Harvey.

BOOKS BY FRED L. FUNK

Ministry and Moonshine

Moonshiners’ Revenge

Moonshine Memories

Life and Death on Cannon Creek

The Throwaway Son

Justice for Cassie

Ephrim’s Journey

Terror on the Mountain (2018)

FOREWORD

Ephrim Rush’s mother must have had a strong premonition about the life her son would lead when she gave him the middle name of Tribulation.

In Fred Funk’s novel, Ephrim’s Journey, the tall, strong, beleaguered man is the centerpiece of a fictional four-generation family saga based on research and some personal family stories handed down through the years. In this book the character of Ephrim rings true.

Ephrim’s Journey is Funk’s seventh novel, and another character-driven story that immerses readers into the lives of everyday people who nevertheless made America the strong nation it is today. The contents of an old boot box retrieved from an attic form the framework for a father’s story to his son about his ancestors and the journey that led the family from Owsley County, Kentucky, to Texas and later Oklahoma. The father, Daniel Meeks, begins telling his son Trent about life for the Rush clan when the original Harley Rush feared for his wife’s life as she birthed his unusually large baby son, whom they named Ephrim. That baby didn’t kill Lucinda, and she had several more, but the last child, another huge boy, caused her death and the baby died as well. Harley became a hermit and soon followed his wife to a grave in a clearing in some woods near their log cabin.

Their deaths leave several small Rush family members orphaned, and neighbors take them in. The eldest, Ephrim, eventually returns to the family cabin and works the land. That begins Ephrim’s story and his tribulations, which extend for most of his life as he travels from rural Kentucky to Missouri and then to Texas.

The family saga is also the wider story of early settlers of the region, their hardscrabble lives and the heart and courage they showed in braving the elements, wild Indians and white criminals in their quests for home, land and happiness in the mid-eighteen hundreds. The Civil War harmed them in ways almost forgotten today, as deserters from both the Confederate and Union armies preyed on them, stole their goods, raped their wives, ravaged their land and murdered entire families. Funk traveled these routes, researched their settlers and looked on these lands so that his book would be true to history.

From Ephrim’s marriage at eighteen to thirteen-year-old neighbor Delia comes happiness interspersed with grief as children die and his crops come to harm from drought and grasshoppers. The story shows the importance of neighbors during that time as men and women helped each other overcome enormous odds to wrest a living out of the woods and fields of early settling in the United States. A two-holer outhouse built by the men of several families was a huge luxury for the Rushes, who had been relieving themselves in the woods for years. Women helped each other preserve vegetables and men went on hunting trips together for meat to smoke for the winters.

Tearful goodbyes and hard trips across dangerous miles follow, as the modern-day father and son pick through the old photos and mementos and read a rough journal to follow the family through Ephrim’s tribulations. Life as he knows it stops for Ephrim when his wife and children are murdered by criminals and he finally leaves for Texas. But arrival in Sherman, Texas, renews life for Ephrim as he begins again with a new wife and ensuing children on a ranch in Cooke County near the Red River. Readers learn how the Rush family begins to live comfortably and later with a degree of wealth as oil wells sprout on the land they cultivate, named the RRR Ranch. Three generations thrive in Cooke County, Daniel tells his son, until he finally reveals to Trent the story of his own sister, a viper in the family nest, who broke Daniel’s heart.

Welcome to Ephrim’s Journey and the story of one family that could be the tale of many families settling the woods and the prairies state-by-state and bringing civilization to the nation.

Donna Fielder

Investigative Reporter/Author

PART ONE

THE EARLY YEARS

Chapter 1

THE PROGENITOR

The loss of the family ranch broke Daniel Meeks’ heart, but the apparent betrayal by his sister, Millie, cut him to the bone. She had betrayed the stellar legacy of her ancestors numerous times, but no matter how grievous the infraction the forgiving family had overlooked most of her transgressions. Daniel could not pardon her big deception.

Daniel cared deeply for his family and their history and he enjoyed a deep-seated love of the land, especially the ranch along the Red River in Cooke County, Texas. The land had been in the Rush family for four generations, but it had been lost and the Rush name no longer existed. He feared that its history and legacy might be gone as well since his son, Trent, remained as the sole descendent of the clan. Daniel’s brother, Lonnie passed away in his mid-twenties as the result of a tragic automobile accident a few months prior to his impending marriage, and his brother, Larry, although happily married, had no offspring. He had confided to Daniel that his biggest fear would have come to pass if he had fathered a child that turned out like their sister, Millie. He did not take that chance.

And then there was Millie, their only female sibling, currently unmarried, deceitful, devious, and two-faced. Thankfully, she had no children. The unfortunate circumstances left Trent as the only descendant and Daniel felt that his son must be told the family’s story so that he could pass it on to future generations, decedents that would exist only through him.

* * *

Must be 120 degrees up here in this attic, Trent complained as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

Yeah, that or more, Daniel responded. I reckon we’d best call it a day before one of us has a heat stroke. Don’t think your mom could get us down out of here if we passed out. We’ll leave the rest of the cleanin’ up, up here ‘til it’s a bit cooler.

Sounds good to me, Trent agreed gratefully.

Grab that old boot box that we found, you know, the one with all the pictures and stuff in it. Bring it on down with us and we’ll dig through it and see what we can find.

You got any idea where it came from? the son questioned.

Got it out of the ranch house when grandma moved out and came up here to Sulphur to live with Mom. Don’t really know why, but that was the one thing I grabbed and brought home with me, the father answered.

You didn’t even look to see what was in it?

Nah, didn’t have time. We were too busy moving her stuff out and figuring out what to do with it. Always intended to look inside it, but just never got to it. Put it up in the attic and forgot about it.

Trent picked up the old boot box as the two men descended from the attic and headed downstairs to the much sought after air conditioning. He placed the container on the kitchen table and removed the lid while Daniel fixed them a big tall glass of iced tea.

Boy, that tea really hits the spot, Daniel remarked as Trent pulled an old photo from the box.

Who on earth is the wild man in this picture?

Trent held an old picture of a tall, burly man, who by comparison to the doorway behind him appeared about six feet seven inches tall. He gazed on the image of a crazed creature with black thick bushy hair that jutted straight out from his head, dark penetrating eyes, and a long wooly beard that grew down to his chest. He appeared as a menacing giant with his tall muscular frame and extremely broad shoulders, but in reality teddy bear described the gentle soul more accurately.

The man hailed from Owsley County Kentucky where men had the reputation as the tallest and largest in the country. No particular reason for the phenomenon ever surfaced, but obviously genetics played a role and cousins from large stock who married cousins contributed to the marvel. Many men from the county attained unusual height and broad muscular frames.

That’s my great-grandpa and your great-great-grandpa, Ephrim Tribulation Rush, Daniel responded. Dig around in that box. Grandpa Harley told me he had a tin-type of Ephrim and his bride taken on their weddin’ day. I’d bet it’s in there someplace.

Trent rummaged around in the photographs and letters until he located the second picture, one of a much younger man with the long thick unruly hair cut much shorter and combed into place. The handsome, clean-shaven young man in the earlier picture had a look of gentleness that seemed absent in the later image.

That little short woman at his side is his first wife.

She sure does look young, Trent noted.

Folks got married real young back then, Daniel replied.

His first wife, is she my great-great-grandmother?

Oh, no. Your great-great-grandmother was Vivian, his second wife. Everybody called her Viva. Family lore says that he let his hair and beard grow long and wooly after unspeakable tragedies befell his family.

You have definitely piqued my interest. What the heck kind of name is Tribulation? Trent questioned.

Some say it was only a nickname because of all the trials and troubles that he endured in his early life. Your great-grandfather, Harley, swore to me it was a real name given to him by his mother, who figured he would face a lot of ‘tribulations’ in his life. His momma must have had some kind of strong premonition when she named him. There was a certain period in his life when the name fit him perfectly and he took on that ferocious look during that time. Life was hard for just about everybody back then, but Ephrim faced troubles that would have done most men in. I’ve no idea what the real truth is about the name, but it really doesn’t matter, it stuck with him. His mother was right though. He faced unimaginable difficulties for many years.

Either way the name seems to fit, Trent espoused.

My grandpa Harley told me a bunch of stories about Ephrim, and one story about his birth seems to make the most sense about the name. Not only was he a giant of a man, but the story goes that he was a real big baby and the birth was extremely difficult, almost killed his mother, and that’s supposedly why they named him Tribulation. Giving birth still isn’t an easy process, but what with today’s drugs or an epidural, it’s a bunch easier than it was in 1836. A lot of women died giving birth back then.

I don’t reckon it is too easy now, but it must have been nearly unbearable back then, Trent responded.

Grandma Charity always said if the men had to have the babies there wouldn’t ever be but one, Daniel related with a chuckle.

I suppose she really meant what she said, since she and Grandpa Harley only had one.

Yeah, but the sad part is since my mom was the only one, the Rush name died when Harley and Charity left this world, Daniel lamented.

* * *

OH DEAR LORD! OH JESUS! Harley Rush heard his young wife’s screams as he paced back and forth in front of the one-room, single pen log cabin where they lived. OH, MY LORD, TAKE ME NOW, I cain’t do this. This baby is gonna kill me tryin’ to git hisself born.

Oh, yes, you can do it and you will, Pearl Brewster insisted. The neighbor woman had come to help Lucinda with the birth.

OH, LORD, the hurtin’ is too much. Make it stop. I’m gonna die.

You ain’t gonna die. Now breathe deep and push.

But I cain’t, Lucinda shrieked.

Yes, you can. You ain’t the first woman to have a baby and this ‘un probably won’t be your last. Now push.

In desperation the panic-stricken husband pounded on the door. What’s happening? What’s takin’ so long? He cried as he thought of the agony that his beloved wife endured as she gave him a child.

Go away, Harley. You cain’t come in jest yet. Jest settle yourself down. Take a deep breath ‘n wait. Ever’thang’s gonna be all right, Pearl exclaimed.

Sweat poured off the expectant father’s face and time dragged by as he paced back and forth and waited. I know somethin’s bad wrong. Don’t usually take this long to birth a baby. What’ll I do if somethin’ happens to Lucinda? He thought. If she makes it through this ‘un, I ain’t never gonna put her through this ever again. Oh God. What have I done?

What’s wrong? He shouted through the closed door. Everything’s done got too quiet in there. I’ve killed her. I jest know it, I’ve killed her. he sobbed. A baby’s cry broke the quietness.

You ain’t killed nobody, the woman responded as she opened the cabin door and placed an extremely large, squalling baby boy in Harley’s arms. It’s gonna take her a while to git over it. She had a real hard time of it, what with her bein’ so little and the size of that baby, you can see why. Ain’t never helped birth one that size. Never seen a newborn so big.

Harley pushed through the cabin door and crossed the room to where his wife lay on the bed. Large beads of sweat accented the unforgettable pained expression on her face that the father observed as he placed the infant next to her. He made a solemn vow while he lovingly stroked her brow. Never agin, my love. Never agin. Won’t be no more havin’ babies. Couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

Now, Harley. Don’t make no rash promises that no man ’d keep, Lucinda responded lovingly as she reached up and caressed his face.

* * *

Of course, they had no method to weigh the infant, but stories that passed down through the generations claim that your great-great-grandfather was at least twelve or thirteen pounds at birth and measured out at twenty-five or twenty-six inches. Could have been exaggerated some and probably was, no way to really know, but apparently he was a real big baby, Daniel explained. And he grew up to be a giant.

Hold on a minute. Was your grandfather named after Ephrim’s father? Trent questioned.

He did get his first name from his ancestor, but he didn’t carry his middle name, Granville, Daniel replied. My grandfather was the third Harley in the family.

Did Harley keep his promise?

Now what do you think? No normal young man’s going to refrain, and in those days there wasn’t much way to prevent pregnancy except refraining. Several more kids that he fathered were born without any problem. That is, up until the last one.

What happened with that one?

* * *

Harley Granville Rush and his wife, Lucinda procreated numerous times over the years and each time the delivery seemed easier than the last. No female offspring ever occurred and all the boy babies made their appearances as normal sized and caused no unusual problems; that is, until the last one. It seemed that history had repeated itself as Harley paced back and forth in front of the log cabin that had been expanded to a two-room double pen structure. Smoke floated from the chimney and filled the still cold January air, but Harley did not feel the chill since Lucinda and her suffering dominated his thoughts.

OH, LORD! OH, LORD! He heard his wife scream. OH, MY LORD! TAKE ME NOW. I cain’t do this. This baby’s gonna kill me tryin’ to git hisself born.

It seemed to Harley that hours passed as he heard Lucinda’s screams while he nervously walked back and forth. Should’a stopped with the last ‘un, but Lucinda wanted a girl. This ‘un’s jest takin’ too long. What’ll I do if somethin’ happens to her?

The creaking of the cabin door broke the silence that seemed deafening to Harley. The worried husband noted a seriously sad look on her face when Pearl appeared on the porch.

I’m sorry, Harley, Pearl, who had been present at all the births consoled as tears rolled down her cheeks. It was just too much for her this time.

NO! NO! he shrieked. I can’t go on without her. She were my life.

Yes, you can and you will, Pearl insisted. You got all them young ‘uns to care for. They be your life now.

What about the baby? Harley asked as tears filled his eyes and flowed down his cheeks.

I’m sorry. Weren’t meant to be. He were a big ‘un just like Ephrim.

Harley went straightaway to the small barn out behind the cabin, tore a number of hand-hewed boards off the side of the structure, and fashioned a crude coffin for his beloved Lucinda and the baby. Pearl Brewster and Lillie Abner, another neighbor and close friend, gently bathed and dressed the mother and child in preparation for burial. The grieving husband and father lovingly placed his wife and son into the handmade casket. The two women, along with the Rush children followed Harley, James Brewster, and John Abner as they carried the precious cargo to a clearing in the woods. Snow pelted Harley while he toiled in the cold grey January day as he dug the grave where he laid Lucinda and their baby boy to rest. The area did not have a church or a resident clergyman so John Abner whose teeth chattered from the frigid temperatures quoted a passage of scripture, James Brewster said a prayer, and the women solemnly droned the words of Amazing Grace.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now I’m found

T’was grace that set me free.

Come on, Harley, one of the men suggested. Let’s git back to the cabin before you freeze. Several women have brung in hot food and we’ll make a meal of it before we have to face the weather ‘n git back to our homes.

One of us’ll stay the night with you and the women’ll take the other kids with ‘um for the night.

Ain’t necessary. Me ‘n the boys’ll be jest fine. Y’all go on ahead, Harley answered. I jest want to stay here with Lucinda for a spell.

After the assemblage left the distraught man alone, he formed a cross from some scraps of wood left over from the construction of the coffin. He scratched the inscription on the planks, Lucinda Rush and Baby Boy Rush. Since he was unable to drive it into the frozen earth, he gathered rocks and propped it up in a pile of stones at the head of the grave. He sat on the ground beside his departed wife’s final resting place and cried as if his heart was broken. After a couple of hours the other men returned to the gravesite where they found Harley laid across the grave covered with snow in inconsolable grief.

* * *

What a sad story, Trent exclaimed. What happened to Ephrim and the other boys?

Since Ephrim was the oldest at age fourteen, the care of the other kids became his responsibility, Daniel replied.

* * *

Where you goin’, Pa? Ephrim asked as Harley wrapped up a few articles of clothing in a quilt and gathered up a sparse quantity of food before he headed out the door.

I’m headed down to Buffalo Creek where me and your ma used to fish. Won’t be back. You gotta take care of them kids now.

But, Pa, I cain’t care for the young ‘uns. We need you here.

You can, ‘n you will. I cain’t live here no more without your ma.

After the death of his wife, Harley Rush moved out of the cabin and built a rock shelter of sorts on the banks of Buffalo Creek.

Ephrim Rush’s tribulations had begun with the death of his mother and continued with the death of his father at the age of forty-six. He regularly carried food and other supplies to his recluse father, but the man barely spoke to his son. He appeared thinner and weaker with each visit. After several months, Ephrim discovered that his father had joined his mother in the hereafter. The grieving son borrowed a wagon and team of horses from James Brewster, loaded his father into the wagon, carried the decedent to the clearing in the woods, and laid him to rest next to Lucinda and the baby boy.

Harley had taught his eldest son to hunt and fish for food, and the boy had become quite proficient with the skills, but he had no idea how to otherwise care for his younger siblings. The group of boys ranged from the age of twelve down to the youngest at five. The older ones pretty much took care of themselves, but the younger boys required more attention than Ephrim could give.

James Brewster and John Abner settled in Owsley County, Kentucky in the eighteen-thirties and they enjoyed the reputation as honest, compassionate, caring folks. In desperation, Ephrim sought their help and advice. I jest don’t know what to do, he confessed. Me and the older boys can git along purty good, but I jest don’t know how to care for the younger ones.

Me ‘n my woman can take in the older boys, but she jest cain’t care for the young ‘uns like she use to. John Abner offered. We’ll help you find folks to take ‘um in.

Ephrim’s two oldest brothers went to live with the Abner’s, other families took in three younger siblings, and the Brewsters gave Ephrim, the eldest sibling a home.

* * *

What became of all his brothers? Trent asked. Don’t remember anybody ever talking about them or their families.

Grandpa Harley told me that Ephrim only mentioned his older brothers, and then only briefly. What became of the younger ones after their parents died and they were all farmed out to different families is totally unknown until they migrated to Texas, but no stories or details have been passed down. Seems like that part of our history is gone forever.

* * *

Ephrim grieved not only the loss of his parents, but the separation from his brothers also caused him indescribable sorrow. He had contact with the older siblings from time to time, but the families who took in the young ones did not live close by and their absence weighed heavy on Ephrim’s soul. It seemed to the teenager that everything he held dear had been taken from him.

He roamed the woods in solitude, passed untold periods of time fishing on Buffalo Creek, and spent many hours alone in the loft of the Brewster’s barn where he slept. When the young man disappeared a few times, James sometimes found him at the deserted cabin where he had been born and had lived for fourteen years. Other times he located the boy in the clearing at the graves of his parents. The Brewster clan treated him well, accepted him as part of their family, and made their home his home, but Ephrim felt he did not belong there. He longed for his mother, father, and his siblings.

James and Pearl Brewster had been quite prolific at procreation as well and their small cabin had become extremely crowded. Eight-year-old Delia, the middle child in the family of thirteen offspring, felt lonely and neglected in the presence of her numerous siblings. With so many children in her care, Pearl could not give the shy girl the attention that she desperately craved.

Why the sad face? Ephrim questioned as he spotted Delia, who sat in a rope swing under a tree near the cabin.

I jest don’t belong, she replied. I don’t fit in. Momma don’t even know I’m around. I feel so alone.

At least you got a momma, Ephrim responded sadly. I know what you mean ‘bout feelin’ alone. Y’all are real nice to me, but it ain’t the same. I really got nobody.

I’ll be your somebody, Delia suggested. Then we’ll both have a somebody.

What do you mean? Ephrim questioned.

You can be my big brother and I can be your little sister.

But you’ve already got a bunch ‘a brothers. What do you need with another one?

They’s all so wrapped up in their own thangs they don’t know I’m around. The older ones stay real busy helpin’ Pa with the farm chores ‘n the younger ones kinda pair off, ‘n that leaves me all by myself.

I spend a lot of my time helpin’ your Pa, too, but okay, Little Sister. You got yourself a big brother.

The six-year difference in their ages did not matter; the two lonesome kids became close and formed an inseparable bond. Ephrim took Delia to Buffalo Creek and showed her how to fish. Delia, whose mother somehow had eked out time and taught the girl to read, spent many hours reading to her friend from the Bible and another couple of books that the family possessed. A lifetime friendship formed between the two kids who felt dejected and alone. As time went by and their bond evolved, both Delia and Ephrim became much happier youngsters and it seemed that the tribulations had passed. However, more tragedy lay in the young man’s future.

* * *

Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me, Trent noted. A teenage boy and a young girl spending so much time together.

It would seem that way, Daniel replied.

I mean, in today’s world that would spell nothing but trouble.

"I agree, but Grandpa Harley told me, that according to all the stories he’d heard,