MO-TELL Member of the Month: Raelene Crotser

My name is Raelene Crotser. I live with my daughter and her son in Mt. Vernon, Missouri. Most of my working years were spent in commercial printing and the hospitality industry. I learned to love events of every type as a child and continued to be involved in a variety of events as an adult. At times, having worked with carnivals, rodeos, horse shows, girl scouts, craft shows, community events and various parks and historic sites, I feel as if I’ve become a professional volunteer.

In my formative years storytelling was not well known. At the age of eight I was introduced to stories by my great grandmother. She was my designated babysitter that day and was desperate for a way to entertain me on a hot summer day in S.E. Kansas. As a last resort, she brought out a hand pieced quilt and covered us with it. She then began to point out various quilt blocks saying, “This was part of the shirt worn the day...and then tell me what had happened that day. In my foolish youth, I was so focused on the miserable heat that I missed more than I remembered.

During my junior high school days I was introduced to family history as a school project. My grandmother was a fountain of information and some of it was fascinating. That’s when I became the family historian.

Decades later, after moving to Springfield, MO, I found a group called Storytellers of the Ozarks and learned that grandma was telling me personal stories. A totally new concept for me.

In the course of my volunteering, I learned that history of all types was slowly but surely being forgotten. I decided to preserve some small piece of that history. Unfortunately I had no idea what to preserve or how to go about it. Then a small historic site where I was volunteering, commandeered me as their storyteller. I hated speaking in front of groups of people and was terrified. My stage fright lasted for several years. Finally before one performance I was especially nervous and thinking of cancelling, when my daughter said, “For crying out loud mom, just put on the dress and quit worrying. It will be fine.”

She was right and that was when I realized what I should be preserving: stories. I suspect I’ve been a storyteller all my life and didn’t realize it.

I joined Mo-Tell as a way to learn from other more experienced storytellers and to find storytelling events. We, as tellers, need to concentrate on finding more ways to connect with people. I have found, in my area especially, most people don’t know what to expect when you invite them to a storytelling event. In an effort to break through that barrier my family, prior to covid-19, put on two storytelling events. Both drew very small, but attentive crowds.

I’ve learned a lot from watching/hearing other storytellers. My favorite teller is Donald Davis. He has a remarkable repertoire of personal stories. I love them all and hope to follow in his footsteps as a teller of personal stories.

If I have any advice to share with all storytellers it would be, don’t save your stories for performances, share them at every opportunity. One of my favorite ways to share my stories is to tell them to the family. We have a tradition of telling family stories while we are decorating the Christmas tree, in this way it is almost as if many generations are there helping us celebrate. Remember: Story lives matter.

Story of the Month: Olive Boone

Told by Jim Two Crows Wallen

“I was married on the 26th of September 1799. On the first of October, without any company but my husband, I started to Missouri, or Upper Louisiana. We had two ponies and our packhorse. We arrived in St. Louis the last of October. We went to St. Charles County and located about twenty miles above St. Charles. We crossed the river at St. Charles by placing our goods on a skiff. My husband rowed and I steered and held the horse by the bridle. It was rather a perilous trip for so young a couple. I was just sixteen, my husband eighteen.”

Olive VanBibber was 16 when she left her family in Ohio and headed to Louisiana territory, Spanish territory that would become the state of Missouri. She was freshly married to Nathan Boone. When they arrived in St. Charles County the newlyweds traded a horse, saddle and bridle for 640 acres, and life together. Nathan headed out further west to hunt, leaving Olive and a slave woman to set up house in a little log cabin by a spring.

Nathan Boone: “In the spring of 1800 I built this cabin. It was small, without a floor, and as the spring rains began, water came in. Occasionally the puddles on the floor were several inches deep. My dear wife, Olive, and her helper got poles to lay down for string pieces, then peeled elm bark and laid it down as a floor, the rough side up to prevent its warping or rolling up. That winter and spring she and her helper cut all the wood and fed the cattle while my father and I were absent hunting.”

“When she wanted a sieve, she peeled a piece of bark from a hickory tree, bent it together to a proper size in circular shape, lapped the ends and stitched them with bark strings. She then tanned a deer skin with ashes, stretched it tightly over the hoop, and fastened it securely. Then with a heated wire she burned holes through the skin and then had a sieve which answered an exceptionally good purpose. She and her helper would gather nettles, a sort of hemp, toward spring, and when it became rotted by the wet weather, we could spin them. It was extraordinarily strong. A softer yarn was spun from buffalo wool and knitted into socks,” It was quite soft and wears very well.

Olive Boone was a tough woman. She cared for the livestock, and tended the crops, and fixed anything in need of repair. She solved problems, managed the household and the farm, had a baby every other year for most of her life, 14 in all, one died at birth. She was primary caretaker for her family-all at a time when women had no legal rights.

“My wife, Olive Boone, had a loom but no convenient place to put it, so she took possession of the deserted shop while my father and I were away hunting. The weather was cold, and there was no fireplace in the old shop; the Negro girl was sent to the nearest neighbor a mile off to obtain the loan of a crosscut saw, with which Olive and the girl cut through several courses of logs until a suitable-sized aperture for a fireplace was made. Then with stones for the fireplace, sticks for the chimney and mud for mortar these lone women erected a chimney, the draft of which proved decidedly the best of any on the farm.”

In December 1804, Nathan went hunting and trapping with Oliver’s brother Mathias “Tice” VanBibber. They had collected 56 beaver pelts and twelve otters and were near the Kansas River when they remembered that their wives had asked them to be home for the Christmas holiday.

As they headed back to the Boone camp, when Nathan and Tice encountered 22 Osage Indians. They took their three horses and what furs they had told us we had better clear out, for there was another party hunting for us. Luckily, they had time to hide. The next morning, they were met with still another party of Indians. They were Sauks and a standoff developed. Finally, the Indians asked that if they would give them powder, balls, and flints, they could go. And so, Nathan and Tice were left with one hunting rifle and five bullets. They had no coats or blankets, and it was the middle of winter.

The two men used their first four bullets but killed nothing. Finally, Nathan was able to shoot a large panther. Nathan cut the skin into two pieces and we each made a vest, cutting holes for inserting their arms and wearing the fur side next to our bodies.

Eventually, they found the trail that led to a camp of American frontiersmen, including Nathan’s nephew, James Callaway. The men brought them home, both on the brink of death from extreme shock. Olive remarked, it was the first Christmas Nathan had spent at home since our marriage, and I had the Indians to thank for that.

Their little log cabin was eventually replaced with a large 4 story limestone house. Quite a change from a mud filled log cabin, this home would have seen the births of several of her children, and the death of her father-in-law Daniel Boone.

When Olive and Nathan were in their 50’s, they sold their big stone house and moved to Greene County, Missouri. They built a log cabin and lived out their years around family.

They are both buried near the cabin.

Amici Ad Astra: Deborah Lynn Wallen (Rice)

Deborah Lynn Wallen (Rice)

July 1950 — January 2021

Deb Wallen passed away on January 18.

Condolences may be sent to:

Jim “Two Crows” Wallen 4710 Mayview Terrace Court, Blue Springs, MO, 64015.

Some thoughts about Deb:

Deb was always happy to see and hear everyone. All of us were treated like we were special, in person or on the phone.And she brought joy and happiness to us. Love to Jim and the Wallen family. May God bless you all.

Perrin and Alice Stifel

Deb and Jim were part of my original storytelling family. Deb was like a sister to me, a sweet sister. Weoften prayed together. Once she made me a cape that was stitched all the way around with her prayers.She said a prayer for me with each stitch. She was so special. My very first storytelling conference was spent with Deb and Jim in San Antonio, TX.

We had a strong connection through art, story and prayer. I miss her dearly. I will always love her.

Joyce Slater

When I think of Deb, I can see her smiling face, the eyes that lit up the room, the busy hands alway creating, and her words of joy. Where Deb was, the room was brighter and more joyful. The thing I marveled most was her talent. She was always creating something, a drawing, a painting, a basket or something for someone else.Her devotion to her family was an example for all to admire. We have suffered a great loss here on earth, but heaven has gained, and someday we will meet again and be united in love and joy. Rest Deb until we meet again.

Sue Hinkel

Here is my remembrance of Deb Wallen. I could write so much more, but these two things are the things I loved most about her. Thank you, for giving everyone an opportunity to share our memories! I always loved hearing her talk about Jim, her children and her grandchildren.... I met one, or two, of her family, but I felt like I knew them all because she was so proud of them and was always ready to visit with you about them. There was no doubt they were center of her joy. I will miss her beautiful, welcoming smile; you felt hugged every time she smiled at you!

Love you muchly!!

Deb Swanegan

I first met Deb Wallen as she was sitting in the back of a River and Prairie Storyweavers’ meeting, working on a craft project. She always welcomed everyone and made them seem like they were the reason she had come. She did not often tell a story herself, but she always supported the other storytellers. Deb understood the power of storytelling through words and art. While Deb is gone, her influence will ripple through the generations of people she has touched.

Linda Kuntz

Deb’s artwork was a highlight of the silent auctions at Chicken Festival. She was always so generous with her talents! One year, she even gave me a beautifully framed pencil sketch of me+autoharp from a snapshot she had taken the previous year. It is a sweet reminder of her warmth and skill.

Fran Stallings

Deb Wallen was one of the most kindhearted and talented individuals I had the honor of knowing. She had a warm, soft spoken soul. However, she was steadfast firm in her made up mind and decisions. To me, she was like that old E.F. Hutton commercial. When she did speak up. People perked up and listened. I met Jim and Deb when I first joined RAPS in the mid-90s. When she somehow found out I had a journalism/ creative writing degree background, that at the time, I wasn’t utilizing as much as I should. She called me up, challenged me and inspired me to employ it by contributing material to the old RAPS newsletter. Thanks to Deb, that little gesture jumped started my writing juices and feeling I had something that was worth sharing on paper. It’s the little things that may seem insignificant or small that create a big difference in a life. Deb had a way of creating big differences with strategic, humble gestures!

John “Br. John” Anderson

I remember Deb and Jim together. It is hard to imagine that team no longer together. I always felt it was a privilege to visit with her and hear about her adventures as a part of their storytelling team.

Many fond memories

Jim and Jo Ann Stigall

We are not sure exactly when we met Deb, but immediately she made us feel like we were already old friends. A favorite memory is meeting Deb and Jim at a 1⁄2 way point between our towns for a long lunch and great conversation. We will miss her in our lives.

Sarah and Thom Howard