The Horse Girl

“The Lady Ranger of Yosemite” is the first time I’ve written a protagonist based on a real person. I cut my teeth on literary fiction in my MFA program, and then after years, turned to romance as a genre I liked. But my roots are still there, and my desire to write about the real people who dared to be bigger than what the world expected of them.

At first, I pictured Clare Hodges as a quintessential “horse girl.” You knew them in elementary school, or maybe you were one. They were the quiet girls who never fussed about how their mother dressed them because they were too busy drawing horses. Birthday parties were horse-themed, or were held at a nearby horseback riding place. A battered copy of Black Beauty was usually in their backpack.

But the more I read about Clare, and read her own poetry and essays, I came to realize she wasn’t of that stereotype. Part of that horse-girl caricature—not to be confused with a farm girl, who was far more sturdy—was a dreamy girl who would comply with anything, so long as there was a horse she could draw, paint, pet, or ride. Clare, however, was not a compliant person. I think she was quiet. But it was quiet the way the old men in my story, also real people, were. Quiet because your opinion doesn’t matter all that much to them.

The Quiet Type

My grandfather was a quiet man. He said very little in my presence, and it wasn’t because he didn’t have acres of stories and thoughts and opinions. He’d seen a lot. And these men in my story, Jack Gayler and Archie Leonard, were both combat veterans from the Civil War. I first encountered them just as names on the 1917 roster of rangers. But as I read even the smallest biographies of them, found photographs, I felt like I’d encountered men like this before.

These men had to have been like my grandfather—though they lived much longer than mine did. Jack Gayler, described in my story as hunched over and curled like a letter C, insisted on riding his donkey, Samson, instead of a horse. And he kept a rifle scabbard on Samson when he rode anywhere in the park. I imagine him as fierce, loyal, harsh, and a man of deeds, not words.

 

Fifteen?

And Archie Leonard? A much softer type. He was married to a Native American woman whose lands used to be Yosemite. They really did have fifteen children. And he really did leave the park to go live nearer to a doctor during that season. As I read through my sources—a small book I purchased at a Yosemite Valley giftshop, Yosemite NPS webpages, digital copies of newspapers and magazines that mentioned or were penned by Clare Hodges, and writings by and about the Awani people who lived there—I found that Clare and Enid Michael (who, with her husband, ran Camp Curry) spent a great deal of time with Susan Leonard and her mother.

Clare had a profound respect for the Mi-Wuk knowledge and traditions. In my story, I reference Susan as being “Awani,” as this is how it was spelled by Clare. The Awani were members of a village of Sierra Nevada Mi-wuk people, and lived in the Yosemite Valley. Sometimes spelled Ahwanee, this is what the hotel in Yosemite is called.

I did not find any record of her position on the political situation of the Awani, who protested their land being taken and turned into a National Park. Sophie Leonard, amongst many other Awani people, signed a letter of protest against the American government. It, like so many other documents, did nothing to sway the outcome.

Au Naturel

Yosemite Valley was not an easy place to relax in at the time. The hotel that Clare cleans in the first lines of my story no longer exists. It was abandoned when the summers became too dry and there was not enough water for guests. At this time, outbuildings were still being built for concessionaires, park visitors, and staff. But if you loved nature and camping, living in Yosemite Valley was a paradise. Especially in the year 1917. The war in Europe had seem even further away, as they didn’t have a local newspaper. Tourist numbers were down that year, giving the rangers an easier load in terms of visitors, though they still had to contend with the trail maintenance, fires, poachers, and wildlife.

The First Lady

But why did I write about this Lady Ranger? Because she was the first. Not the first to work in a National Park in the capacity of ranger, though it was believed at the time to be true. Later, digging around would find that in some of the smaller parks, daughters and wives did the jobs of ranger without pay. Clare Hodges was the first to have a paycheck signed by the National Park Service. And the rangers seemed to respect her enough to not give her special treatment, as far as I could tell.

However, just as in my story, the war ending changed the world, not just Clare’s life. It took her freedom. Based on her poetry and humble interviews, Clare was in love with all of Yosemite. Aside from her child, I don’t know if there was anything she loved as much, because she did whatever she could to return as often and for as long as possible.

Earle, with an E

Perhaps that was the reason she divorced Earle Seiverson. Maybe she loved Yosemite more than him. Perhaps his grief over his sister’s death did send him into a spiral the way I depicted in my story. Earle was also very much a real person, and his mother really did meet every train she could in San Jose. His sister died from tending the Spanish influenza patients, and they really weren’t allowed to go to a burial of her body. It was a pandemic.

Earle left San Jose after the divorce. When he returned, he tried out the bachelor route, going to the social dances and whatnot, until he met the woman who became his second wife. Earle clearly loved strong women, as this next Mrs. Seiverson became the first woman preacher in the area. Some people have a type.

Happily Ever After

Clare herself ended up marrying a rancher from Mariposa, which is very near the park. They were together until he died at a ripe old age, and Clare continued on as she had been, working summers at Camp Wawona, just outside the entrance to the park. I like to think of this as a happily ever after for everyone. Not that life was easy, but that it fed Clare’s heart to be in the wilderness. To love something so completely as she did. My hope is that by the end of “The Lady Ranger of Yosemite,” you can feel that in her, and take strength from her steadfast nature.

 

 

To read “The Lady Ranger of Yosemite,” order Echoes of Small Things, the latest historical fiction anthology from the Paper Lantern Writers.