I was the oldest grandchild on my mom’s side and incredibly lucky to spend much quality time with my Grandma Zola. Because, boy, she had some good stories to tell. Fact is often crazier than fiction.
So yes, my grandma was chased into the highest boughs of a walnut tree in pre-depression era California, in an attempt to thwart the advances of an amorous polygamist man. She was a teenager and wanted nothing to do with that old guy, already married several times over. Grandma Zola was raised in the Mormon Church and lived/loved the teachings all of her life. When she was approached (aggressively, obviously) by the polygamist man, plural marriage was against church doctrine, but that didn’t mean everyone had given up on the practice. Plus, look how cute she was!
Thankfully, my grandma was one heck of a climber and escaped cleanly from the clutches of Mr. Wrong. Grandma Zola married my grandpa not too many years later. My grandpa kept her as his only beloved wife until they both passed away. In my novel ROOT, PETAL, THORN this tiny part of her story lives on.
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