Linda Allen - Helga Estby Lyrics
I'll never forget the first time I saw herShe and her daughter just outside SpokaneIn her high button shoes, a gun on her shoulderSettin' off on a wager to walk across the landHelga and her husband were hard workin' farmersBut the year of 1896 had brought them to their kneesFor Ole had been crippled, Helga's health was fadingIf they didn't pay their taxes soon the farm would be seizedThen Helga had an offer from secret New York sponsorsTo earn ten thousand dollars to walk across the landSo one clear May morning, with winter frost still formingThey set off on the railroad track East of SpokaneWe are all on a journey, and who can know the end?It's hidden in the promises, scattered by the windBut she walked across this country,It was all that she could doHelga Estly of Spokane, we will remember youThey followed the railroad through snows of the Blue MountainsPouring rains was constant the first month on their wayThey stopped in Boise to earn a little moneyThen set off once again at nearly 30 miles a dayNow many were the dangers, a Wyoming mountain lionA rain-swollen river nearly took their livesThe thieves and the hobos learned to keep their distanceFor a red pepper gun helped these women to surviveOnce in Snake River they cut across the sagebrushThey were lost three days before they found their way backRocks tore at their shoes, rattlers gave no restHunger burned like the summer sun 'til they stumbled on the track CHONear the end of the journey, Clara sprained her ankleBut they made it to New York on a cold December dayThe sponsors were sorry, but they never paid a pennyThey'd walked three thousand miles, but they got there three days lateIn May they returned to a heart-broken familyTwo children they'd buried, the farm would be lostIn their grief and anger, they hid the walk in silenceToo bitter the memory, too high was the costMany years later in nineteen and twentyIn a small Spokane attic, Helga sorted her notesShe'd locked the door tightly, but her mind still could journeyShe picked up her pen and she secretly wroteAnd the years fell away. She wrote of the people.The beauty of the desert with Clara by her sideBut when she died, her daughter burned every paperBut her memory was stronger, her story survived. CHORUS
