Cheryl Mullenbach – författare

As pervasive as the stagecoach industry was in America for at least 200 years, doesn’t it make sense that at least a few women were somehow involved? Well, guess what, there were far more than a few. Women drove stagecoaches, groomed and shod the stage horses, hoisted mail bags and boxes of gold bullion, negotiated contracts, bought and managed stage lines, defended (with their six-shooters) their cargo from bandits, and robbed stages in addition to their traditional roles as housekeepers, cooks, and laundresses, and oh yes, mothers to multiple children. And usually women’s contributions to stagecoach history were ignored. Stagecoach Women offers a non-academic, but expansive survey of stagecoach history in the United States enriched by the personal stories of women who contributed to the evolution and success of a captivating facet of American history.

This collection celebrates the contributions of our foremothers—mothers, grandmothers, aunts, and neighbors—who devoted their lives to farming pursuits. Some embraced their roles, others detested the life of a farm woman; but most would agree their contributions were minimized or overlooked. And the common practice of referring to them as “farmer’s wife” or “farm helper” or “farmerette” didn’t quite do justice to their work. Men and women who spent their lives living and working on a family farm or ranch will relate to the emotions and exploits experienced by the women profiled. Town dwellers and urbanites two or three generations removed from the farm or their rural communities and growing up hearing grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ stories about life on the farm will appreciate these women who may or may not resemble in any way their foremothers. City slickers who never spent a day on a farm, nor thought the life of a farmer was in any way appealing will meet a community of spunky, brazen, plucky, hardworking gals who donned trousers every day, scraped cow dung from their boots every night, enjoyed a few hours of deep sleep afforded by hours in the fresh country air, only to rise early the next day and start all over again.