Facing the wilderness

On the third weekend in July, the Germanna Society hosts a reunion for the descendants of those who made up the First Permanent German Settlement in the New World. That place is in Culpeper County, Virginia, on the banks of the historic Rapidan River and across Germanna Road from the ruins of Alexander Spotswood’s “enchanted castle.”

When Spotswood brought the German families to that place in 1714 and 1717, it was the western edge of American civilization. Today, looking at the rolling green fields and gentle mountain bumps, it’s difficult to imagine the wilderness that faced the men and women who came to this strange land for one purpose only -- a hunger, hunger for land and freedom; hunger that overrode fear of the unknown. The unknown wasn’t just wilderness dangers, though -- it was also fear of the future. Had they made the right decision to leave a world they knew? But they dared, and with hard work, very hard work, they hacked away at the wilderness, clearing it at the staggering speed of two acres a year.

The frontier tested the men and women’s resolve, courage, and strength. It bred people who sold their land, packed up their tools and babies, and headed west when the settlement got too crowded or the soil began to play out. This desire for something better for themselves or for others, like their families, became a part of them and over generations etched its way into the American character.

Many times, without horses or wagons, poor in wealth but rich in purpose, families followed men like Daniel Boone into North Carolina and Kentucky. Others followed the path over the Blue Ridge forged by Spotswood, the man who paid for their passage from Germany, in exchange for a few days work a year in his iron mines. But, looking for something better, they were men who weren’t afraid to stand up for their rights. When Spotswood wouldn’t give them their freedom after their indenture ended, they sued him and won.

The man they stood up to wasn’t easily intimidated, either. A westerner, like his workers, he had a hunger too -- to see the land settled by small farmers, not large landholders. He got into trouble with his visions, eventually losing his governorship to those who were stronger, but he never lost his entrepreneurial spirit.

On the last morning of the reunion, a Patrick Henry descendant and husband of a Germanna one strode into the lecture hall. Dressed in the curled wig, coat and knee pants, hose and jabot of an 18th century man, he took on the persona of his famous ancestor.

That persona was of a man unafraid to take on the big boys. There were two of them: England’s Parliament and king and Tidewater Virginia’s conservative leaders, many of whom wanted to tread softly and carry no stick.

Henry, elected to the House of Burgesses out of Louisa County, came from the west. He was “the new kid on the block” and compounding that was his hinterland roots. Unlike many of his peers, Henry did not have a College of William and Mary education. His father taught him Latin; he taught himself law. Passionate, articulate, and sharp-witted, he had a hunger to rid the colonies of English rule, to make the country better for the colonists. Even as an upstart representative, he wasn’t afraid to use his oratorical talents to get his peers’ attention.

That he did in his famous speech on March 23, 1775, at St. John’s Henrico Parish Church in Richmond. In the crowd were men like George Washington, Edmund Randolph, Benjamin Harrison, George Wythe, James Madison and Thomas Jefferson. He didn’t let that stop him from using every tactic in his oratorical arsenal. Spurning the image of those who would clutch hope to their chest while lying on their backs letting the English government put chains on them, he proclaimed that he could stomach only liberty, and if he couldn’t have that, he would choose death.

His vision won, and the rest is history with westerners like Jefferson of Albemarle County and Madison of Orange County, and Tidewater’s Washington going on to become presidents of the United States and framers of its government. They were men who knew the wilderness. Their hunger for something better, their bold, decisive actions, set the bar high for those who followed.

In recent times, one did reach for that height. He was also a westerner, a man who spoke boldly, and whose harsh rhetoric made people cringe. He stood up to the Communists, daring them to free their people, which they eventually did. That man was former President Ronald Reagan, who was given a hero’s funeral a few weeks ago.

Bill Clinton beat the odds to become a U.S. president. You wouldn’t think that an Arkansas upbringing would give a man much chance for that job. Clinton didn’t have an easy run, but he never gave up, not when he lost a governor’s race, and not when he faced controversy about his moral character, first when he was running for the Democratic presidential nomination and again when the U.S. Congress impeached him. All along he sought something better for himself and his country.

George Walker Bush, a westerner, is a president whose rhetoric has given him the unflattering reputation as a cowboy -- one who shoots first and asks questions later. He’s also taken criticism from those who don’t like his MBA approach to managing America’s business. His opponents don’t understand it and don’t want to give it a chance. They would rather stay with those governing methods that don’t challenge their security. Bush seems poised to find his way through this wilderness, hoping for a better world for himself and the people.

Political leaders do not have exclusive rights to the traits that branded the folks who founded our country. Sunday afternoon, Texan Lance Armstrong in a yellow shirt and gold helmet rode through the streets of Paris, around the Arc de Triumph, and into history books. An upstart, he dared to challenge elite European bikers in the Tour de France, “the most beautiful race in the world.” He took it from them, not once but six consecutive times, setting a world record.

Martha Stewart may not be a westerner, but she has the spirit of one: she fights against great odds, like those who faced the wilderness. Not intimidated by the big boys, she’s contemplating serving her prison term while fighting to clear her name. Like her or hate her, you have to admit that she’s not afraid to be herself, to forge new territory, like taking her ingenuity to Kmart, the store of the “little people” rather than to stores with higher profile names and clients.

These dissimilar people have one thing in common with the Germanna immigrants -- they have faced the wilderness and found nothing there to fear.