Race for Freedom (28 page)

If you’re in the St. Louis area, you’ll find some special places to visit. The Jefferson National Expansion Memorial offers excellent museums under the Arch and in what is now called the Old Courthouse. Those who want to know more about Dred Scott will appreciate the display on the first floor of the Old Courthouse. Because of an architectural flaw that threatened the ceiling, the courtroom used for Scott’s first two trials was changed in 1855. A second-floor courtroom has been restored to its nineteenth-century appearance and looks like the one used for Scott’s trials in 1847 and 1850.

Today we’re sensitive about how we refer to people of color. In this book and others in The Freedom Seekers series, I’ve tried to give the language used in the 1850s in order to create a real and historically accurate picture.

As always, I’m deeply grateful to those who help me write a book. With this novel Chuck Peterson of Grantsburg, Wisconsin, has especially blessed me with his sense of story and his willingness to provide information and read portions of the manuscript. Thanks, too, Chuck, for the time you and Lori gave in showing my husband, Roy, and me your boyhood haunts in the Red Wing area.

Robert L. Miller, curator of the
George M. Verity
, the Keokuk River Museum at Victory Park in Keokuk, Iowa, also has a sense of what is needed to create a story. In this National Historic Landmark, I first began to feel what it was like to live on a riverboat. See
www.geomverity.org
. Since then, Bob has generously given of his wisdom and resources. His patience in reading portions of the manuscript and answering my countless questions is amazing!

See also
www.mississippirivermuseum.com
for the National Mississippi Riverboat Museum and Aquarium, a large complex at the Tri-City hub along the Mississippi River, Dubuque, Iowa.

Additional people gave me exactly the right help at just the moment I needed it: Emily Miller, librarian, Missouri Historical Society Library and Research Center, St. Louis, Missouri; Charlene Gill, president, Alton Area Historical Society, Alton, Illinois; Roberta Hagood, author and historian, Hannibal, Missouri; Emma Lee Lahmeyer Hill, Keokuk Public Library, Keokuk, Iowa; Susie Guest, library assistant, Burlington Free Public Library; and
The Hawk Eye
, Iowa’s oldest newspaper, also in Burlington.

Thanks to the librarians at the Wabasha, Minnesota Public Library and to Charlie McDonald and the Wabasha County Historical Museum at Reads Landing, Minnesota. In the Red Wing, Minnesota, area, my gratitude to the Goodhue County Historical Socxiety and Char Henn, curator; Mary Maronde, director; Jean Chesley, retired director; and Orville Olson, former curator. I’m also grateful to Adeline Deden, Evelyn Sweasy, Kathryn Morrow, and the Red Wing Public Library for their help.

If you’re interested in learning more about steamboats, you may be able to visit the museums I mention. I also found these books especially helpful: Anita Albrecht Buck,
Steamboats on the St. Croix
, North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc., St. Cloud, Minnesota, 1990. George Byron Merrick,
Old Times on the Mississippi
, Minnesota Historical Society, St. Paul, Minnesota, 1987. William J. Petersen,
Steamboating on the Upper Mississippi
, State Historical Society of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa, 1968.

Thanks to Tom Benson, Hartland, Minnesota, who calls like a crow and gets the owls to answer; Norma Robinson, president, Newfoundland Dog Club of the Greater Twin Cities, Eagan, Minnesota; Dr. William Young of the River Valley Medical Center, St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin; the librarians at the Grantsburg Public Library, also called the Mary Ann Erickson Memorial Library in Grantsburg, Wisconsin; and to Charlotte Adelsperger, Overland Park, Kansas, who tells me to feed my characters, especially if they’re dogs!

In St. Paul, Minnesota, thanks to the Minnesota Historical Society for their Minnesota History Center and their research facilities,
www.mnhs.org
. Thanks to the St. Paul
Pioneer Press
for
The Daily Pioneer
and
Democrat
newspapers.

I am grateful to the
Arabia
Steamboat Museum in Kansas City, Missouri, for its massive undertaking in bringing up and restoring an 1856 cargo that sank on the Missouri River. Thanks to all who have been involved in this exciting project and especially to Greg Hawley and David Hawley for answering my questions. See
www.1856.com
.

My gratitude to Maurice J. Montgomery, curator/archivist of the Rock County Historical Society for his tour of the Tallman House in Janesville, Wisconsin. I also appreciate Judy Scheehle and the Milton House, an authentic stop on the Underground Railroad in Milton, Wisconsin. And Nate Johnson, you taught Jordan how to survive in water!

Special thanks to the entire Bethany House team for the first edition of this book: Toni Auble for her side-wheeler illustration; and Barbara Lilland and Rochelle Glöege for their editing and ongoing encouragement.

Thank you to each person at Moody Publishers who had a part in bringing out this new edition of the Freedom Seekers series: Deborah Keiser, Associate Publisher—River North, for her strong gifting, creative planning, and visionary leadership; Michele Forrider, Audience Development Manager, for day-to-day marketing and making connections with you, my audience; Brittany Biggs, my big time help in Author Relations; and Pam Pugh, Gerneral Project Editor, for her oversight, management, and working through the details that bring this novel to completion. My thanks, also, to Artist Odessa Sawyer for giving us exciting art that brings my characters alive.

As an author, I value all my editors, but I’ve worked with one person more than any other. A gifted author and editorial director, Ron Klug has edited over twenty of my books. Always he does so with grace and style, offering a sensitive understanding of how to improve what I’ve begun. With this novel, I owe him even more gratitude than usual because of his wise counsel and his vision for the meaning of courage.

For many years more people than I can name have offered quiet, daily encouragement for me to continue writing. I never take you, nor your time and support, for granted. Special thanks to my parents, Alvar and Lydia Walfrid, who shaped my early thinking about a never-give-up family and understood my need to write.

Every now and then, you, my special readers, address a letter to both my husband, Roy, and me. It’s fun when I see that, for I know you understand how much Roy has helped me with the writing of each book. As always, my gratitude to you, Roy, for your love and wisdom, for being my terrific husband and a caring dad, just like Libby’s Pa.

[excerpt from
Midnight Rescue
]

CHAPTER 1

T
he moment the whistle sounded, Libby Norstad felt the excitement. From a deck high on the
Christina
, she stared upstream.
Adventure! That’s what this is. Living on Pa’s steamboat is an adventure! Every boy and girl I know would like to be where I am
.

As if something special were about to happen, Libby wished she could tell the boat to hurry. Then she remembered. Danger had chased them up the Mississippi River to Minnesota Territory. In the darkness of night they had slipped away from St. Paul. Was that same danger following them even now?

While the sun rose above the eastern bluffs, Libby’s excitement changed to uneasiness. “When does adventure become trouble?” she asked her friend Caleb Whitney as he joined her at the railing.

Caleb snapped his fingers. “Just that quick!” he said.

At fourteen, almost fifteen, Caleb was a year older than Libby, but only an inch taller. His blond hair fell down over his forehead, nearly reaching his eyes. “Stillwater is next,” he said. “You’ll like it there.”

Just then the
Christina’s
whistle sounded again. Long and deep, the call broke the quiet of early morning. From shore a man’s big voice sang out, “Steamboat a-comin’!”

As the village of Stillwater came alive, people of all sizes and ages rushed toward the river. Boys and girls raced for a spot with the best view. Not far behind came mothers and fathers with younger children and babies in their arms. Everyone seemed to have one thought—reaching the riverfront before the steamboat tied up.

Soon only a narrow strip of water lay between the
Christina
and shore. As the crowd grew even larger, those in the back kept moving around, trying to see everything.

When a young boy called out from shore, Libby and Caleb waved to him. Soon the boy shouted a question. “Do you live on the boat?”

Caleb grinned down at him, enjoying the child’s curiosity. “I’m a cabin boy,” he shouted back. “Libby’s father is the captain.”

“Where did you come from?” a girl called.

“All the way from St. Louis. It’s spring there. How come you don’t have spring here?”

The grown-ups in the crowd laughed. Though it was the second week in May, 1857, the air was still cold. Everyone knew that Minnesota Territory had just come through one of the worst winters in its history.

“What’s your cargo?” a man shouted.

“Cookstoves, sewing machines, and cloth for your ladies to make dresses,” Caleb told them. “Axes, saws, and plows for you.”

“And candy?” a small boy asked.

“Yup. Just the kind of candy you’ll like.”

As deckhands threw out the lines, eager people caught and held them. When the gangplank went down, the deckhands raced to tie the ropes to posts on shore.

Just then Libby heard the clip-clop of horses coming closer and closer. Soon a team and wagon swung around a building near the waterfront. A tall blond boy sat on the high seat of the wagon. As his horses reached an open area, he called out, “Whoa!” Standing up, he leaped to the ground and tied a lead rope to the hitching rail.

When the boy reached the back of the crowd, he raised both arms and waved. “Hey, Caleb!” he shouted. “Over here!”

In the next moment Caleb spotted him. “Hi, Nate! Wait for me! I’ll be right down!”

Caleb turned to Libby. “I met Nate the last time I was in Stillwater. Want to come with us? He’ll take us around.”

Without waiting for Libby’s answer, Caleb headed for the stairs. “Help me find Jordan so he can go too.”

“Caleb?” Libby asked as she followed him down a flight of steps to the deck below. “Is it safe for Jordan to be seen in Stillwater?”

Only a short time before, Jordan Parker had run away from his master, a cruel slave trader named Riggs. Like Caleb, Jordan now worked for Libby’s father as a cabin boy. Because of all that happened on their trip up the Mississippi River, Jordan had become known to everyone on the boat.

Caleb turned back to Libby. “He’s as safe here as anywhere outside of Canada.”

Libby caught Caleb’s hidden meaning. “That’s not very safe,” she said.

“You’re right.” Caleb’s honest gaze met hers. “We can’t ever forget the fugitive slave laws. Wherever we go there might be someone who doesn’t want Jordan to have his freedom. As long as even one person feels that way, Jordan will be in danger.”

After a quick search for Jordan on the boiler deck, Libby followed Caleb down another stairway. There had been more than one fugitive slave law. As part of the Compromise of 1850, Congress had strengthened the right of a slave owner to hunt down and capture fugitives, even in free northern states. Owners often hired catchers—rough, cruel men—to bring back runaway slaves.