Giant Steps Read online

  Each of us is on a unique journey. We may not realize it until we reach our destination.

  Giant Steps is made possible through the generous support of Wanda Y. Fortune

  Indiana Historical Society Press | Indianapolis 2017

  ©2017 Indiana Historical Society Press. All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America

  This book is a publication of the

  Indiana Historical Society Press

  Eugene and Marilyn Glick Indiana History Center

  450 West Ohio Street

  Indianapolis, Indiana 46202-3269 USA

  www.indianahistory.org

  Telephone orders 1-800-447-1830

  Fax orders 1-317-234-0562

  Online orders @ http://shop.indianahistory.org

  The paper in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39. 48–1984

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Immel, Mary Blair, author.

  Title: Giant steps : suffragettes and soldiers / Mary Blair Immel.

  Description: Indianapolis : Indiana Historical Society Press, 2016. |

  Includes bibliographical references and index. | Summary: Bernie and her

  family live in Indiana, where she soon gets involved in the national

  suffragist movement for women’s rights.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016043839 (print) | LCCN 2016046138 (ebook) | ISBN

  9780871954077 (cloth : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780871954060 (pbk. : alk.

  paper) | ISBN 9780871954091 (epub)

  Subjects: LCSH: Family life—Indiana—Fiction. | CYAC: Suffragists—Fiction.

  | Women’s rights—Fiction. | Indiana—History—20th century—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.I34 Gi 2016 (print) | LCC PZ7.I34 (ebook) | DDC

  [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016043839

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  Contents

  Part 1: 1916

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Wrong Foot Forward

  Chapter 2: An Unusual Turn of Events

  Chapter 3: Disturbing Secrets

  Chapter 4: Strange Doors Swing Open

  Chapter 5: The Rocky Road to Fame

  Chapter 6: Secrets and Scary Business

  Chapter 7: Putting the Puzzle Together

  Part 2: 1917

  Chapter 8: Serendipity

  Chapter 9: Trouble Brewing

  Chapter 10: “A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Step”

  Chapter 11: Peace and Quiet?

  Chapter 12: March Roars Out Like A Lion

  Chapter 13: Dark Clouds Gather

  Chapter 14: Nick Disappears

  Chapter 15: Mother’s Secret

  Part 3: 1918 to 1920

  Chapter 16: Ben Answers the Call

  Chapter 17: An Unexpected Challenge

  Chapter 18: Discord

  Chapter 19: Mad Dog

  Chapter 20: The Letter

  Chapter 21: The Dinner Guest

  Chapter 22: Surprises

  Chapter 23: Stepping Out

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  Stories of Heroic and Pioneering Women

  Glossary

  Selected Bibliography

  Subject Index by Chapter

  About the Author

  For Dan, who made my life a wonderful adventure,

  and our three sons, Daniel, Michael, and Douglas,

  who continue to make my life “interesting.”

  Part 1: 1916

  Prologue

  People were always asking Bernie’s two older brothers what they planned to be when they grew up.

  Nick, the younger of the two, would say proudly, “I’m going to be a soldier just like my Great Uncle Charlie. He fought alongside Indiana’s famous general, Lew Wallace, during the Civil War.”

  “Good for you, young man,” people would usually answer.

  When people asked her oldest brother, Ben, what he was going to be, he would say thoughtfully, “I’m going to be an explorer and take pictures of strange, faraway places.” His hero was John Wesley Powell, the man who led the first expedition through the Grand Canyon.

  “An explorer? Well, now, just think of that.”

  After they posed while Ben snapped their picture with his camera, they would smile and say, “Good for you, young man.”

  Everyone was pleased about Ben’s grandiose plans, except Papa. He would never stand still for such foolishness. “Nobody can make a respectable living as an explorer with a camera.” He wanted Ben to become his partner someday at the family store, Epperson’s Emporium. Then it would once again become Epperson and Son, just as it had when Papa had first joined his father in the business.

  Meanwhile, Bernie waited hopefully for someone to ask her about her future plans. She waited and waited, but no one ever asked her that all-important question. So, Bernie stopped waiting and started piping up to say, “Would you like to know what I’m going to be when I grow up?”

  If they paid any attention to her at all, they would smile and pat her on the top of her head. Or, they would say, “I’ll bet I can guess.”

  But Bernie knew they couldn’t guess, so she would tell them, “I’m going to be like Nellie Bly.”

  Usually they would laugh when she said that. Those who didn’t laugh would say, in a let’s-be-reasonable voice, “A woman’s place is in the home.”

  When she told her Papa about her plans to be another Nellie Bly, he only snorted and asked, “What makes you think you could be a sharpshooter? You have never fired a gun in your life and if you did, you would just fall off your horse.”

  Bernie sighed and tried to explain: “Nellie Bly was not a sharpshooter. You’re mixing her up with Annie Oakley, who rides in Buffalo Bill’s ‘Wild West Show.’ I’m talking about the woman who is a great newspaper reporter. She finds out about things that need to be changed and writes about them.”

  It didn’t take Bernie long to realize that nobody really cared what she wanted to be. In fact, it seemed that nobody thought girls could be anything other than wives and mothers. They simply nodded and said, “Don’t worry. Someday you’ll meet some nice young man, get married, and raise a family.”

  Bernie had no objections to being a wife and mother, but she knew there were some other things that she also wanted to do. She decided that she would show them. She was determined that there would come a time when everyone would have to sit up and take notice of her.

  1

  June 1916

  Wrong Foot Forward

  Bernie did not know how long she had been wrapped in the comfortable cocoon of darkness. As it began to fall away, the pale light crept into her consciousness. She was aware that her right arm, throbbing and encased in bandages, was firmly strapped across her chest. Her left arm was stiff at her side and her fingers were clenched into a tight fist.

  Bernie pressed her lips firmly together. She lay very still and tried to breathe deeply. “I will not cry. I will not cry.” The thirteen-year-old repeated the words over and over inside her aching head. No matter how much her nose itched and her eyes burned, she absolutely would not give in
to the desire to let the tears flow. If she cried, then people would know she was awake. It was absolutely vital that everyone think she was sound asleep, especially Mother and Papa. She did not want to have to talk with either of them about the awful thing that had happened.

  The other reason Bernie lay so still was because whenever she moved, no matter how slightly, a stab of pain shot through her right arm. Her legs hurt. Her back hurt. She hurt all over from her terrible fall out at the McClarty place yesterday afternoon. The accident had happened so fast that she struggled to remember exactly what had taken place.

  * * *

  Bernie had known for quite a while that her two older brothers, Ben, seventeen, and Nick, fifteen, were up to something. They had been whispering about it for weeks with Nick’s best friend, Jack, who, although a year older than Nick, was in his grade at school. From what she’d overheard and pieced together, she knew they were secretly building a flying machine in the old barn that Mr. McClarty owned. She had even figured out that they planned to test it on the first Saturday after the end of school. They had chosen that day because Papa and Mother were taking the interurban train to Indianapolis. Papa needed to do some business that concerned his store. Mother planned to go along to do some shopping and eat at the fancy L. S. Ayres Tea Room. They would be gone from early morning until late in the evening. The boys were sure that would give them plenty of time to test their flying contraption.

  From 1900 to the mid-1930s interurbans were a popular form of mass transit. The single-car trains were run on tracks that shared the road with horses, pedestrians, and eventually automobiles. Powered by electricity, the cars were tethered to power lines above them. Indianapolis was the central hub for the state of Indiana. Passengers could ride around Indianapolis and to other major cities and towns around the state, such as Lafayette. (Interurban in a Small Town, Indiana Historical Society Collections)

  Papa was like most of her friends’ fathers—strict. He insisted that his sons do their fair share of work at Epperson’s Emporium downtown on the courthouse square. Ben worked as a stock boy. Mother and Papa had been happy that he got mostly Bs on his report card the last year. If he continued to earn such good grades his senior year of high school, he would be able to start college at Purdue University the following year. He planned to study chemistry because he thought that would be a help to him with his photography—a lot of chemistry went into developing the film from his camera. He also planned on taking geography courses, thinking it would further his plans to become an explorer. Papa insisted that Ben enroll in some business courses as well because he was still determined that Ben would take over the Emporium someday. Ben sighed and agreed to take the courses, but didn’t commit to taking over the store. Being the younger brother, Nick had to keep the store swept and clean. However, Papa always gave them the first Saturday of summer vacation to do whatever they wanted. Usually they went to Columbian Park or sometimes they went swimming in the pond out at Mifflin farm where their Aunt Lolly and Uncle Leroy lived.

  Jack McClarty’s father was even more strict than their own. Papa certainly expected a lot of work from his boys, but Bernie thought old man McClarty was downright mean to Jack. It usually took a lot of ingenuity on Jack’s part to get away from work at McClarty’s Blacksmith Shop where he did everything from shoe horses to make nails out of iron. McClarty also stabled and sold horses. So, the boys cooked up a plan. The three of them would offer to ride horses out to the McClarty acreage in the country to exercise the animals. The fact that he would be getting work out of someone else’s sons, as well as his own, would appeal to McClarty’s stingy nature. There were many people who said that McClarty was the most tight-fisted man in Lafayette. Bernie had even asked about it at the dinner table one evening.

  Papa looked at her and said, “Mr. McClarty may be a bit … well.…” Papa seemed at a rare loss for words, but then after careful consideration he said, “There’s no denying that McClarty is a sharp man in his business practices, but he’s honest. He earns his dollars the hard way. You can trust him to shoe a horse properly. To my knowledge he’s never sold anyone a lame horse.”

  “And,” added Nick, “he’s downright worried about what’s going to happen to his business what with folks riding on the interurban and more people buying automobiles. Horses aren’t being used as much as they once were, not even for plowing.”

  Papa cleared his throat and said, “Now, I think we’ve spent more than enough time discussing someone else’s business at mealtime.”

  Still, Bernie thought that it was a shame how Mr. McClarty treated his son. Yet, somehow she had never heard Jack say a bad word about his father. Bernie had to admit that he was one of the more agreeable boys she knew. He had always been nice to her. He didn’t throw oak apples at her when she trailed after him and her brothers. Sometimes he even tried to get Ben and Nick to let her come along with them. But Jack was usually outvoted when it came to letting Bernie be a part of the boys’ escapades, just as he probably would have been outnumbered if he had said it would be all right to let her be a part of what was going to happen on the first Saturday of summer vacation.

  So Bernie made her own plans and kept her own secrets. She was good at keeping secrets. She had not confided in anyone, not even her cousin Lizzie, who was also her best friend. Bernie didn’t feel guilty about not telling Lizzie. Her cousin would not have wanted to come along anyway. Lizzie preferred more ladylike activities, playing jacks, skipping rope, or making doll clothes. Not Bernie. She wasn’t about to be left out of this adventure and let her brothers have all the fun.

  A bird’s-eye view drawing of Lafayette, Indiana, from 1868. The Wabash River is a dominant feature of the landscape, dividing Lafayette and West Lafayette into two separate cities. To the east, the terrain rises, creating many excellent slopes for sledding in winter. (Albert Ruger, Bird’s Eye View, Lafayette, Indiana Historical Society Collections)

  She could hardly sleep Friday night, because she was so afraid she wouldn’t be ready to follow them. Ben and Nick’s upstairs rooms were down the hall from hers at the front of the Eppersons’ large two-story house. She opened the windows in her own bedroom as wide as she could, so she would not miss out on the excitement.

  When the eastern sky had just begun to lighten Saturday morning, Bernie popped awake at the sound of birds singing—this was what she had been waiting for. Jack was standing in the yard below with the horses. He whistled the secret four-note signal that the boys used. To most people it might sound like a cardinal’s call, but Bernie knew exactly what it was and what it meant. Bernie jumped out of bed, pulled on her old brown shoes and laced them up. She had slept dressed and ready-to-go last night. As a matter of fact, she wore Ben’s clothes. She had pulled a pair of his baggy overalls on over her skirts. Girls’ clothes were such a bother, with bulky skirts always getting in the way. She stuffed them down the pant legs. She wrapped her thick chestnut colored braids around her head and jammed on an old straw hat to cover them. She convinced herself that if anyone saw her they would think she was one of her brothers.

  Bernie crept as quietly as she could down the back stairway. She knew her parents were leaving early, and she wanted to be on her way long before they got up. That way she would not have to answer any questions. Mother and Papa would be in such a hurry to leave the house, they would not even notice that none of their children put in an appearance at the breakfast table. If they did notice, they would look at each other in consternation. Papa often commented that it was almost impossible to get children out of bed on a school day morning, but they were up at the crack of dawn on a vacation Saturday.

  Bernie grabbed the first bicycle at hand, forgetting that Ben’s was a bit of a clunker and hard to pedal. Thank goodness their dog Sheppie was nowhere in sight. He had undoubtedly followed the boys. If Sheppie had seen her, he would have given her away with his barking. Even in the early morning, the day was unusually hot for this time in Ju
ne. She was soon panting, and her forehead was damp with sweat. She was glad when she reached the top of the hill on Union Street and could coast for several blocks.

  Bernie rode over the metal bridge across the Wabash River and set off toward River Road. She was making good time when the chain on Ben’s bike came off the sprocket. She didn’t have time to go back and get Nick’s bike. She stopped and managed to get it back on, getting her hands covered with black grease. After wiping her fingers in the weeds at the side of the road, she pedaled away as fast as she could. Her repair didn’t last long, though, and she had to stop again. By this time she was hot and upset. What if she didn’t get there in time for the test flight? She heard a farm wagon rattling up the road behind her. She bent over the sprocket, keeping her head down so that whoever was approaching would not recognize her.

  “Need some help, sonny?” She recognized old Mr. Granger’s voice. Bernie groaned. It would have to be him of all people! He was undoubtedly the nosiest man in town.

  Keeping her head down and trying to make her voice sound as deep as she could, Bernie said, “No thank you.”

  “Is that you, Bernice Epperson?”

  She sighed. Her disguise had been a failure. She pulled off the straw hat and let her braids fall below her shoulders.

  “Where are you going dressed up like a scarecrow? Is somebody giving a costume party?”