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Linda Allen
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Helga Estby
I'll never forget the first time I saw her She and her daughter just outside Spokane In her high button shoes, a gun on her shoulder Settin' off on a wager to walk across the land
Helga and her husband were hard workin' farmers But the year of 1896 had brought them to their knees For Ole had been crippled, Helga's health was fading If they didn't pay their taxes soon the farm would be seized
Then Helga had an offer from secret New York sponsors To earn ten thousand dollars to walk across the land So one clear May morning, with winter frost still forming They set off on the railroad track East of Spokane
We are all on a journey, and who can know the end? It's hidden in the promises, scattered by the wind But she walked across this country, It was all that she could do Helga Estly of Spokane, we will remember you They followed the railroad through snows of the Blue Mountains Pouring rains was constant the first month on their way They stopped in Boise to earn a little money Then set off once again at nearly 30 miles a day
Now many were the dangers, a Wyoming mountain lion A rain-swollen river nearly took their lives The thieves and the hobos learned to keep their distance 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 For a red pepper gun helped these women to survive
Once in Snake River they cut across the sagebrush They were lost three days before they found their way back Rocks tore at their shoes, rattlers gave no rest Hunger burned like the summer sun 'til they stumbled on the track CHO
Near the end of the journey, Clara sprained her ankle But they made it to New York on a cold December day The sponsors were sorry, but they never paid a penny They'd walked three thousand miles, but they got there three days late
In May they returned to a heart-broken family Two children they'd buried, the farm would be lost In their grief and anger, they hid the walk in silence Too bitter the memory, too high was the cost
Many years later in nineteen and twenty In a small Spokane attic, Helga sorted her notes She'd locked the door tightly, but her mind still could journey She picked up her pen and she secretly wrote
And the years fell away. She wrote of the people. The beauty of the desert with Clara by her side But when she died, her daughter burned every paper But her memory was stronger, her story survived. CHORUS
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