Following in His Footsteps

“If you’ll follow in your brother’s footsteps you’ll never go wrong.”

By Elsie Peters

It started off as a lark, just something to do during the holidays while we waited for Christmas.  We’d finished finals the week before and come home on Friday.  Now, by Monday, we were all looking for something fun to do.  And what could be more fun than to go out to my family’s ranch to play in the snow?  At least, it seemed like a good idea on Monday morning.  If only we had known.

My name is Elsie Peters, though it was Elsie Johnson back then.  I was 18 years old, young, full of dreams, and in love.  George Willis had just asked me to marry him, which gave me another reason to go out to the ranch.

You see, dad had passed away a couple of years earlier from a bad heart.  In those last few days before he died, I was able to talk with him a lot.  I was scared.  I needed my dad and I didn’t know what I would do if he wasn’t there for me, but he comforted me by reminding me I would still have my big brother Joshua to watch out for me.  Joshua was five years older than me, big and strong, and I idolized him.  Dad said if I would follow in Joshua’s footsteps I would never go wrong, and he was right.

I was so excited when George and I got engaged.  With dad gone, George wanted to officially ask Joshua for my hand, and I wanted to get Joshua’s blessing, or advice.  I suppose even then I wanted to hear from my big brother’s lips the words that I had made the right choice.

We were raised out at the ranch.  Mom and Dad moved there when they were first married.  When dad died Joshua took over, and Mom and I moved permanently into the little house we owned in town.  Dad built it for us to live in during the winters so we could be close to school and church and other people.  Now that mom was older and alone it was good for her not to have to rough it, and I loved living in town, it was exciting and fun, but the ranch was still home.

Joshua was a good rancher, slow and careful and dedicated.  That kind of describes our whole family:  we weren’t very exciting, just solid, good people.  Perhaps that’s why I fell head over hills in love with George.  He was so different! 

Although we grew up in the same town, George never noticed me until we went to the same college.  There were a group of kids from our town that palled around together at college, and they pulled me in when I started school that fall.  George said he was amazed the first day he saw me there.  He’d never noticed me back home, but I guess I’d grown up, because from that first day he was my partner in all the fun things we did.  It was really flattering.  I’d had a crush on him since I was a kid.

George’s family had money, influence, and prestige.  They were important people in our town, and it made me feel like I was someone important when I was with him. 

Mom was excited when I came home from school with a ring on my finger.  18 wasn’t too young to get married back in those days, and the Willis’ were a good family.  Still, I wanted Joshua’s advice.

Monday morning when all the gang got together to plan something fun to do I was more than agreeable when they decided to go play in the snow.  It was me that suggested going to the ranch.  We had hundred’s of acres to romp in, with hills to slide down and a warm fire in the house to thaw out around when we were through. Joshua was planning to come to town that weekend for Christmas, but this way I wouldn’t have to wait until then to talk to him about my engagement, and he would get a chance to get to know George better.

We all piled into George’s brand new 51 Chevy, and drove out to the ranch.  It was a tight fit, there were 7 of us kids in the group, but being packed in like sardines made the laughter that much more jolly.  We sang Christmas carols and told jokes all the way, and were in high spirits when we got there.  It had been a wet year, and there two feet of snow on the ground.  The last storm had been over a week ago, but although the main road was plowed the winding lane that led back to the ranch house was still packed. George decided he didn’t want to take a chance sliding off the lane into a tree, so he parked on the road and we piled out to walk back to the house. 

It stood in a little copse of trees, way back behind a huge, deep meadow that bordered the main road. During summer this meadow was the prettiest thing, with lush green grass that grew waist high, but in the spring after the snow melted and in late summer and early fall during the rainy season it often looked like a lake in front of our house.  Now it was a huge, smooth expanse of glistening white snow.  It was lovely.  The house was tucked inside the trees, so you could only see it’s green roof, with smoke drifting lazily up through the trees to prove that Joshua was home.  There were no truck tracks on the lane, showing my brother hadn’t left the ranch since last week, but his foot prints were there in the deep snow, going and coming from the mail box on the side of the road.

After getting our boots and gloves and hats on I grabbed George’s hand and pulled him towards the lane, intending to walk in Josh’s footprints up to the house. George had other ideas.  The vast expanse of unbroken snow across the meadow called to him with a challenge he just couldn’t pass up. 

It didn’t appeal to me.  It’s always easier to walk where someone else has broken the path for you, and drummed into my subconscious where dad’s words, “If you’ll follow in your brother’s footsteps you’ll never go wrong.” 

“George,” I tried, “let’s follow Joshua’s footprints up the lane.  I know he had a good reason for not crossing the field.”

“Don’t be silly, Elsie,” was George’s reply.  “It’s twice as far.”

“But Joshua wouldn’t go that way unless it was better,” I reasoned.  “Please, let’s just follow his footsteps.”

“What for?”  George laughed.  “We can make our own footprints this way.  I don’t mean to be mean, Elsie, but your brother is just not a very adventurous type of guy.  He walked by the lane because it’s the way he always walks. That doesn’t make it the only way to go.  Come on, we’ll cut half the time off going this way and have more time to cuddle by the fire later this evening,” and George gave me a wicked grin.

Although the meadow was lovely, we’d never played it when I was young.  It was something to be looked at and admired, but it was too marshy and deep to cross.  It might be longer to follow the lane, but it was smarter.  I tried to explain this to George, but it seemed like the more reasons I gave him for following the lane the more challenging it became to cross the meadow.    You don’t tell a Willis what to do.  They do the opposite just to prove they are in charge.

Soon George was leading the way through the deep snow, plowing a straight line towards the house back in the trees.  The other kids fell in behind him, but I hesitated beside the car.  I surely didn’t want George to think I was a scaredy-cat or a goody-two-shoes, nor did I want him to think I questioned his judgment, but I did.  It might be faster to take the straight path across the field, but I knew there would be a good reason why my big brother chose to follow the lane when he walked out to the road, and I felt compelled to follow his path.  

Tom Peters stayed back with me as I struggled with what to do.  He was a quiet fellow who usually just did whatever the group did, but he seemed worried about me.  When I decided I was going to follow my brother’s path instead of George’s, Tom fell in step beside me. 

It was easier going along the lane.  Under the snow the footing was gravel, and Joshua’s earlier footprints cleared the way for us and made our job easier.  We covered twice as much ground as our friends pushing their way through the meadow, and by the time we were almost to the house they were only half way across the field.  They were still having fun, laughing loudly and singing carols as they struggled through the snow.  Joshua must have heard them because as we got close enough to see the house the front door opened and he stepped out.

I waved and started to call out to him just as we heard the screams from the meadow.  Whirling around I saw George disappear into the snow.  The other kids stopped where they were, frozen in astonishment as they gaped into the hole where George had disappeared.  Where only seconds before had seemed to be solid ground covered in two feet of snow, George had walked straight into a marshy place where ice covered and supported the snow, but underneath the ground sloped sharply, hiding another two feet of stagnant, icy water.  Thank goodness it wasn’t really deep, and in a second George was floundering up, struggling to get his footing.  He couldn’t get on his feet, though.  The ice and snow and slimy grass were too slippery.

Joshua plowed through the snow, around the marsh, and reached the edge where George had fallen in before the other kids could figure out what to do. Joshua waded into the icy water and grabbed George.  He helped him stand up, but then Joshua slipped and the two of them fell back into the water.  

By this time Tom and I had followed Joshua to the group, but we weren’t much more help. Anyone who got near the edge of the marsh broke the ice and made it that much farther for the boys to have to go to reach solid ground.  By this time they were both drenched and freezing, which zapped their strength and caused them to slip and slide even more.  All we could do was watch as they struggled together and slowly pulled each other out of the marsh and up onto firm ground.  They were both shaking all over when we finally got to them.  George’s teeth were chattering so loudly he could hardly speak, but he still blustered and made excused as we half carried him across the field to the house.  As usual, Joshua didn’t say much, but his lips were blue and his face white and tight, and I didn’t like the look of him at all.

A fire was burning on the hearth, and it was warm and cozy in the house.  Joshua and George were both wet to the bone.  We gathered dry clothes for them and the other boys helped them get out of their wet things while the girls made hot cocoa in the kitchen. Neither Joshua nor George had any strength left, but we bundled them in blankets and pulled chairs up by the fireplace for them, then we all stood around and tried to help them get warm. 

It seemed to take forever before George was able to stop his teeth from chattering.  He never could admit he was wrong, but he did thank Joshua for pulling him out of the marsh. 

“Don’t worry about it,” was all Joshua said.  I suppose it was just as hard for him to make his mouth work, and he was always quiet anyway.  But I didn’t like the pallor of Joshua’s face, or George’s either, for that matter.

We hadn’t set out for the ranch until late morning, and it took over an hour to get the boys out of the marsh.  By the time we got to the house it was the middle of the afternoon.  Night had fallen before Josh and George were dry and warm, and none of us felt like braving the snow again to walk to the car and drive back to town.  We decided it would be better to spend the night at the ranch and drive back first thing in the morning, so we heated soup from cans in Joshua’s cupboard and spent the evening sitting around his fireplace.  We weren’t nearly as jolly a group as when we had set out. 

I had intended talking to Joshua about my engagement, but I never got around to it.  He looked all done in, and went to bed early.  George wasn’t his normal bubbly self, either, and he soon went to bed as well.  The rest of us sat up by the fire for awhile, mostly just looking at the flames and thinking. I kept hearing my dad’s voice, over and over in my head.  “If you’ll follow your brother’s footsteps you’ll never go wrong.”  I wondered if he had known how literally his words could be taken.

By morning both Joshua and George were burning with fever.   It was obvious they needed to get to a doctor, so we bundled them into Joshua’s old truck and plowed our way out the lane to the main road.  George got into his car and Tom drove.  One of the other boys drove Joshua and me in the old ranch truck and we followed them into town.  We went first to Doc. Thornton’s, but as soon as he saw the boys he sent us directly to the hospital, where they were both admitted. 

That became the longest and saddest week of my life.  It was the week before Christmas, but I didn’t feel any joy.  By Christmas Eve both boys were fighting pneumonia and it seemed touch and go for awhile.  Late in the evening George made a turn for the better and he started to improve, but Christmas morning Joshua’s heart gave out and he slipped away.  My big brother was gone.

The Willis’ were truly amazing.  They took care of mom and me, helping us through the grief of loosing Joshua, and early in the spring they had a beautiful headstone placed on Joshua’s grave.  It was engraved with the scripture from John, 15:13, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

It was a lovely gesture, and it gave my mother a sense of peace.  I appreciated it, too, but I made my own memorial to Joshua later that summer.  Next to the lane, where my big brother’s footprints had once lead me safely through the snow, I placed a plaque which read, “If you’ll follow in your brother’s footsteps you’ll never go wrong.” 

PS.  I never did marry George.