Howdy, my name is Bessie Ruth Tschirgi, and this is just a part of the adventure I call my life:

 

I grew up in Midland Texas, but now live in San Diego California.  My heart has always been in love with horses.  I love them because I am free when on their back.  The faster they go, the happier I am.  I learned to shoot at a very young age and provided most of the meat my small family ate.

 

My Grandmothers raised me.  My Mama passed on in childbirth after Bandits from Mexico raided our ranch.  They took all we had.  A few hours after the Bandits left, mama went into labor and I was born.

 

My father was half Indian and half German, a tracker and bounty hunter by trade, who left to catch Hyman G. Neil, better known as Hoodoo Brown of the Dodge City Gang and never returned.  My fathers’ mother I called Mama T.  She said she was not old enough to be a grandmother.  She was almost 40! Very long in the tooth to be rearing a wild granddaughter like myself.  My mamas’ mother I called Honey because Granddaddy always came home and said “Hi Honey.”  I thought that was her name.

 

I loved my life with my grandmothers.  They were very strong women who loved, raised and protected me.  Once when I was young, I was out in the hills riding my favorite stallion Gambler, running as fast as his strong legs could carry me when Mama T spotted me. She grabbed her Winchester and was about ready to shoot thinking I was an Indian coming from them.  She finally noticed my braids were blond, not black and dropped her rifle.  Boy was I in trouble when I finally got home!

 

I was married off to a rancher when I was 15 years old.  My grandmothers were getting up in age and felt I would be better off living with Mr. Spicer. I came to love and respect him after some time.  He was a nice man, but my wild streak was hard for him to live with.  He had a time keeping me off his best ranch horses.  I was the best at breaking the wild horses he rounded up.  The ranch hands always gave my husband a hard time about that.  I think they were jealous, but he got used to it.  He was a patient man.

 

A few years back we had a prairie fire that wiped out most of our cattle and burned our home down along with our outbuildings.  In that fire my husband perished.  With my grandmothers gone, no husband and no home, I was on my own at 45 years of age.

 

I took my husbands best horse and his Winchester and headed for California.  I heard I had some distant relatives there.  California is a long way from Texas, but I figured I could make it.  The trek took almost 9 months.  I had to pose as a man to get through the many towns along the way and keep from being killed. I was an excellent shot and was able to get out of many situations by the skin of my teeth.

 

Arriving in San Diego I meet two other widows and found a home among them.  We now have a home with many widows.  We all have our jobs to do to support ourselves and find great comfort in knowing we do not have to rely on men for protection.  We get along just fine.