Giant Steps Page 9

  “Your grandmother is probably showing off my latest handiwork,” Aunt Rose laughed. “Another crocheted doily.”

  Bernie was giggling when she said, “I hope she’s not suggesting to Mother that you teach me how to crochet.” Bernie paused, hoping that she hadn’t offended her aunt. She quickly added, “Not that the doilies you make aren’t nice. They really are very pretty.”

  Aunt Rose’s shoulders begin to shake and Bernie realized that her aunt was trying to hold back laughter. The two of them collapsed against each other giggling uncontrollably. Bernie thought how much Aunt Rose sounded like her own girlfriends at school. It was a few moments before they were able to regain their composure.

  “I have a confession to make,” Bernie said softly. “I did not want to come over to visit Grandmother today.”

  “That is certainly understandable,” Aunt Rose said.

  “But I am so glad I did,” Bernie added quickly. “I thought today was going to be dreadful. And it was at first, but I found something unexpected—something better.”

  “There is a word for that,” Aunt Rose told her. “It is called serendipity.”

  Bernie repeated the word. “Serendipity.” She said it one more time to fix it in her mind. Its five syllables rolled across her tongue like the mellow taste of butterscotch. What a delicious word it was.

  When Bernie and Aunt Rose finally returned to the parlor, Bernie saw her mother and grandmother look quizzically at them. Bernie dared not look at Aunt Rose. She was afraid they would burst out laughing again. Then Grandmother would really have a reason to scold her.

  As Bernie and her mother returned home, Bernie went over the events of the afternoon in her mind. She thought about the many things Aunt Rose had told her. One of those things stood out in her memory: “Your father had the courage to speak up when he wanted to marry your mother even though our parents thought she was unsuitable for him.”

  Bernie had been so engrossed in the story of Aunt Rose’s sad romance that she hadn’t thought much about that statement at the time. Now she wondered, what could it have meant? Someday she would have to ask Aunt Rose more about that. Or, perhaps Aunt Lolly would know.

  She was mulling this over when Mother looked at her questioningly. “Did you say something, Bernie?”

  Bernie hoped she had not spoken aloud without realizing it. Quickly she replied, “Oh, I learned a new word today and I don’t want to forget it. Aunt Rose taught it to me.”

  Then another thought popped into her head. Serendipity was possibly a word that even her smart cousin, Lizzie, had never heard of. Bernie smiled happily.

  9

  January 1917

  Trouble Brewing

  It had seemed like a good idea when Bernie first thought of inviting Aunt Rose to attend the Lafayette Franchise League meeting with her. It had taken a lot of convincing. Aunt Rose had all sorts of reasons why she would not be able to attend.

  “There is no way I could convince your Grandmother Epperson to stay alone in the evening,” she said. “Not even for a couple of hours.”

  “Bring her to the meeting with you,” Bernie suggested.

  Aunt Rose rolled her eyes. “I can’t even imagine it. Can you?”

  Bernie shook her head no. She could not imagine it. “Why not ask Edna Schmidt to come and stay with her while you are away?”

  “But what can I tell her I am going to do that evening? If she had any idea what I was planning to do, she would have our handyman nail every door in the house shut. I would never be able to go anywhere again.”

  “Tell her you are going to attend an educational program,” Bernie suggested. “That is certainly truthful.”

  As it turned out, the league meeting was much more than educational. Bernie was surprised to learn that there were several strong disagreements within the ranks of the members about which direction their group should take. Voices here and there throughout the meeting hall called out their ideas.

  One person raised the issue of keeping the peace. “I believe the United States is going to enter the war in Europe. It is up to us to do everything we can to prevent it.”

  “Don’t forget about the temperance movement,” said a woman. She wore a white rosette with a trailing ribbon pinned to her jacket. Bernie knew this identified her as a member of a group called the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union that worked to ban the sale of liquor. There was a smattering of applause. The woman turned and nodded her head in appreciation for their support as she sat down.

  Buttons with the rallying cry “Votes for Women,” such as this one, attracted attention to the suffrage movement. Wearing one was a way for women to show that they supported women’s right to vote. (Gift of Sara Skillen Cook Estate, Indiana Historical Society Collections)

  “What about child labor and orphanages?” Another woman called out. “Don’t we care about the children?”

  “Let’s work harder to close the sweatshops where women work long hours under terrible conditions. Some of them have even died.”

  After applause had died down following the latter suggestion, yet another voice added, “We care about all of these things, but we simply cannot spread ourselves too thin. We must stay focused if we are going to reach our goal. This is the Lafayette Franchise League, part of the National American Woman Suffrage Association. Our purpose is and always has been to get the right to vote for women. Those other things, worthy as they are, can come later.” This time the applause was louder and lasted longer.

  The members were becoming more agitated. “Can’t you see that these things are all parts of the whole? If women get the vote, they must be prepared to use it to stamp out the evils in our society.”

  There was a swelling undertone of supporting and opposing voices.

  The leader pounded her gavel on the podium. “Order! Order! We’ll not get any of these important things done if we don’t act in an orderly fashion. Now, one at a time. Raise your hands, please, if you desire to speak.”

  Bernie had never witnessed the group behaving in this manner before. She hoped that this wasn’t making a bad impression on Aunt Rose. She might not want to return.

  Someone raised the issue of how they could get more attention for any of their causes. “Remember how Isabel Grandison told us that the English women couldn’t get the newspapers to notice them or take them seriously?”

  “Well, we certainly had plenty of publicity when the Daily Courier printed the winning essay for our contest. Everyone in town was talking about it.”

  That was exactly what Papa and Grandmother Epperson had said. Bernie slumped low in her seat remembering what a painful experience that was. She didn’t even dare glance in Aunt Rose’s direction.

  The speaker went on to say that what the group needed was more such publicity. “We need to do something that will make everyone sit up and take notice of our cause.”

  Someone in the back of the room said, “I have a suggestion. We could march around the courthouse square, carrying banners.”

  “Why stop with a march around the courthouse? We ought to go to Washington, DC. Other franchise leagues are planning to march for President Wilson’s inauguration in March. If we send a delegation, maybe we could get our picture in the newspapers.”

  Women in Hebron, Porter County, Indiana, took to the streets in 1919 to spread their belief that they should be allowed to vote. (Indiana Postcard Collection, Indiana Historical Society)

  Several voices agreed that this was a good idea. “How large should such a delegation be?”

  “Why not invite everyone who belongs to the league?”

  “Yes. Yes. We could all travel together on the train. That certainly would make an impression on this town.”

  “How many people do you think we could we get to go?”

  “Why limit the trip to our members? If each one of us asked one other person, w
e could double the crowd. I say, the more the better.”

  “Everyone here tonight who would go on such a trip, raise your hand.”

  Alice, Lizzie, and Aunt Lolly immediately stood up, held their hands high, and looked around. Bernie watched as more and more women stood with raised hands. The chair took a count. There were twenty-seven women who said they would go.

  Someone went to the piano and began to pound out, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Those who were standing began to sing the words to that stirring anthem.

  “Come on,” urged the chair. “We’ve got to have more people than that. We ought to fill an entire railroad carriage.”

  “Why stop with one carriage? Make it two.”

  “We’ll take anybody who wants to go. Encourage a friend—two friends—five friends to make the trip with us. Just think about it—this is a great opportunity to visit our nation’s capital.”

  “Let’s set a goal of one hundred people to make the journey with us.”

  A voice near the rear suggested, “We could gather at the courthouse and march from there to the railroad station on the day we leave. That should get some publicity.”

  “If we want publicity we will need someone to write articles for publication in the Daily Courier.”

  “What better person to do this job than the bright young lady who won our essay contest? She certainly has a way with words.” Bernie was surprised to hear a ripple of applause that turned into a wave of approval.

  Someone shouted, “Stand up, Miss Epperson. Take a bow.”

  “Stand up,” Lizzie insisted, without a trace of envy even though she had not won the contest. Bernie knew that was one of the things that made everyone love Lizzie so much. There wasn’t a jealous bone in her body.

  Reluctantly, Bernie got to her feet as the applause rolled over her. Then she sat down again quickly, her face flaming with embarrassment at the attention.

  The woman at the piano called out, “We can sing as we march. Just think of it. One hundred voices strong for women and the vote.”

  Women’s suffrage meetings attracted women from varying backgrounds. They allowed women to voice their opinions, debate issues, and organize events. This photograph shows a meeting of women in Washington, DC, ca. 1910, rallying for a proposed amendment that they called the Susan B. Anthony Amendment for the enfranchisement of women. (Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, LC-USZ62-34028)

  Bernie heard the piano begin to play again. This time it was the melody for “The March of the Women.” Those who knew the words started to sing:

  Shout, shout, up with your song!

  Cry with the wind, for the dawn is breaking;

  March, march, swing you along,

  Wide blows our banner, and hope is waking.

  Bernie hadn’t been a member of the league long enough to have learned all the words, but she chimed in whenever she could remember a line or two. More voices joined in the song:

  Song with its story, dreams with their glory

  Lo! they call, and glad is their word!

  Loud and louder it swells,

  Thunder of freedom, the voice of the Lord!

  Bernie looked around and realized that she was one of the few persons who was still seated. She would have to go if she were to be the publicity person. If Aunt Lolly was going maybe she could get permission to go also. She took a deep breath and stood, hand raised as she sang loudly:

  Long, long—we in the past

  Cowered in dread from the light of heaven,

  Strong, strong—stand we at last,

  Fearless in faith and with sight new given.

  Strength with its beauty, Life with its duty,

  (Hear the voice, oh hear and obey!)

  These, these—beckon us on!

  Open your eyes to the blaze of day.

  By the third verse, Bernie could remember no more of the words, so she just hummed the stirring tune as she listened to the others sing:

  Comrades—ye who have dared

  First in the battle to strive and sorrow!

  Scorned, spurned—nought have ye cared,

  Raising your eyes to a wider morrow,

  Ways that are weary, days that are dreary,

  Toil and pain by faith ye have borne;

  Hail, hail—victors ye stand,

  Wearing the wreath that the brave have worn!

  The music filled the hall, seeming to rattle the windows and shake the very timbers of the roof above them. It didn’t matter that the piano was old and slightly out of tune. It didn’t matter that not everyone knew the words. Bernie thought she had never heard more beautiful or exciting music in her entire life. She felt as though she had become part of the song herself. She felt Aunt Rose grasp her left hand. Her aunt’s other hand was raised high in the air. Aunt Rose had picked up the tune and was singing at the top of her voice. Although she wasn’t singing the words, she was chanting “La—la—la—la.”

  Bernie asked, “Aunt Rose, what are you doing?”

  Aunt Rose was grinning widely—an expression Bernie had never expected to see on her aunt’s face—and her eyes twinkled with excitement. “I’m getting ready to go to Washington, DC.”

  “But what will Grandmother say when you ask her if you can go?”

  “I don’t think I shall ask. I will simply tell her what I am going to do. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

  Others who knew it, sang the last verse.

  Life, strife—those two are one,

  Naught can ye win but by faith and daring.

  On, on—that ye have done

  But for the work of today preparing.

  Firm in reliance, laugh at defiance,

  (Laugh in hope, for sure is the end)

  March, march—many as one,

  Shoulder to shoulder and friend to friend.

  When the meeting was over, Bernie’s head was spinning. Things had progressed much faster and much farther than she had expected. She had allowed herself to be swept up in the excitement of the moment. Papa was not going to be happy about this. Was she about to get herself in hot water again? Well, if Aunt Rose was prepared to take a giant step, Bernie knew she would too. Of course, unlike Aunt Rose, Bernie would not be able to just announce that she was going. The big hurdle would be to get Papa to permit her to go and help to pay her way. Or, perhaps it would be wiser to approach Mother first and try to convince her. It would help that both Aunt Lolly and Aunt Rose would be making the trip.

  10

  March 1917

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

  Bernie could hardly believe that she and the other women were already on their way home from Washington, DC. They had planned their march for what had seemed like forever. But once the big moment arrived, time seemed to have moved at lightning speed. The days of the trip to the nation’s capital had flashed by quickly, especially the fourth day.

  The run-in with the police had happened so fast and was so unexpected that many of those moments were blurred in Bernie’s mind. She was glad to be back on the train because she needed time to sort out the events in her mind. Bernie turned to a blank page in her tablet and began to make notes. The swaying motion of the train made it difficult to write. However, she knew that she must get her thoughts down on paper as soon as possible. A lot had happened and much of it was confusing. She was afraid she would leave something out.

  When the trip began, almost a week ago, she had planned to keep a daily journal. By the second night in DC, she was so tired that she went to sleep the minute her head touched the pillow in the hotel room. Before long she gave up and decided she would have to be content with making random notes of her impressions. She told herself she could fill in the details later. Now it was almost like turning the pages of a photo album as she
reviewed each day in her mind. Strangely, at the same time, it seemed as though she had dreamed the entire adventure.

  On the first day, some members of the group insisted that they go to see the cherry trees around the Tidal Basin. Five years before, the Japanese government had gifted the three thousand trees to the United States. Bernie was disappointed at what she felt was a frivolous attitude. After all, they had traveled such a long distance to be part of a march to help women get the vote.

  The league’s president had wisely stated that it would be best to get the sightseeing done immediately. That way their focus could be on the more serious purpose that had brought them to the nation’s capital.

  Bernie understood that seeing the nation’s capital had been one of the things about the trip that made it possible to recruit so many women to go along as part of their delegation. It certainly had been one of the things that had helped her convince her mother, who in turn had convinced Papa to let her make this journey. Bernie felt a bit guilty that she had emphasized the sightseeing to him and had hardly mentioned the women’s march.

  In 1917 suffragists from across the country united to picket, march, and protest at the White House and around Washington, DC. This photo is from the “Grand Picket” march, which took place during the day leading up to President Woodrow Wilson’s second inauguration on March 4, 1917. (Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, Records of the National Woman’s Party, Photo by Harris & Ewing, Washington, DC)

  On the actual day of the march Bernie was barely able to contain her nervousness as their delegation took its place with groups of women from other states. The women were marching at the second inauguration of President Woodrow Wilson. It was a cold, rainy day, and the marchers wore raincoats and hats. They lined up in rows, each member wearing a wide, purple, white, and gold sash tied diagonally across her chest, indicating that they were part of the national women’s suffrage movement. The Lafayette Franchise League marched behind women carrying signs that said Indiana in big letters. All the marchers were grouped according to their home states, but the women from Indiana were especially proud. They wanted everyone to know where they were from because their state had just given women the partial right to vote in Indiana in February.