Monday, March 18, 2024

1849

In 1971 I was a huge admirer of Canada and all things Canadian. All their wide open spaces were very attractive to a teenager suffocating in a dying industrial city in the eastern US. I bought an LP (a long playing vinyl album for those unfamiliar with the term) produced by a jazz-rock fusion group (out of Toronto, Ontario, Canada) called Lighthouse. The Number One hit from the album was titled "One Fine Morning". Thank you Skip Prokop for such a joyful and uplifting 5 minutes 11 seconds! "All the universe will smile on us."


Another song on the album was less ebullient. "1849" is a tale of the gold fever which guided the hopes of 400 people in 61 wagons heading to California. Those adventurers set out in confidence "that their fortunes would appear." When I traveled west in 1988 it was less rustic and I followed paved roads, not fur trapper trails. The song warned of the cost of chasing riches. "No one thought their greed for gold would change their lives that way." I wasn't seeking gold in Arizona, unless wide open spaces was my gold. 

Those seekers in 1849 soon found out that dreams must change. I never became the great long distance endurance horse race rider in the Arizona sun that I envisioned.

Instead I found fulfillment in just being in God's creation. I loved the mountains and the deserts. Those wide open spaces filled our years with adventure and appreciation.

It's been 3 years since I lost my companion. The song lyrics describe a pretty dress for Sarah, later used to bury her sister Fay. My sweetheart, my husband, was buried in camouflage hunting clothes under the desert sun. There is loss across the years whether you stay put or challenge the world someplace new.

The song ends with a refrain: "A promised land in 1849." There's toil and pain everywhere, no escaping that. But everywhere I place my foot is a promised land to me from my God.



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