In
what has been described as one of America’s most remarkable equestrian
journeys, a 63-year old down-on-her-luck woman from Minot, Maine rode out of
her hometown in a quest to fulfill a life-long dream: to see the country and
swim in the Pacific Ocean. Along with Mesannie (aka Annie) Wilkins on that
chilly November day in 1954, were ‘her boys,’ an aged horse, Tarzan, and her
energetic and faithful dog, Depeche Toi, a Spaniel/Dachshund mix.
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| Annie riding Tarzan with Depechi Toi perched atop pack horse |
After
losing her family and her home and learning from her doctor that she had only
about two years to live due to a lung deficiency, Annie decided it was time to
strike out. The plan: to ride Tarzan across the country, sleep in jails and
barns and work odd jobs.
As
to the dangers and the improbability of success, Annie would often say that the
Lord has a plan for all of us – “everything is foreordained.” But, as it turned
out, she would have to toil very little on the long journey because newspapers,
radio and television along the way would take up her cause and sympathetically publicize
her cross-country trek as courageous and daring – reporting on every mile and
every hardship and misfortune.
Both
her admirers and detractors dubbed her ‘Jackass Annie,’ which she happily
embraced with her usual high spirits and good cheer.
In
her book, “Last of the Saddle Tramps”, a memoir of her cross-country adventure
published in 1966, Annie discussed the events surrounding her stay in Windham, which
was one of her first overnights. Her account was different from that described
in Part One by extended family members of her host’s family (The Windham Eagle,
Dec. 6, 2019).
According
to Annie, she had bedded down in a grove of trees along a road in the town of
Gray. Her sleep was interrupted by Depeche Toi’s angry growls. It was a deputy
sheriff, who told her it was improper for them to sleep there, and that he had
secured shelter for them with a family in Windham. Tarzan stayed the night in a
nearby barn. The deputy drove Annie and her dog to the home of Dr. and Mrs.
Laurence Bennett who ran a nursing home on Windham Center Road.
Devoting
nearly a full page of her book to her overnight stay at the Bennett’s, Annie
wrote:
“So…at
one in the morning the sheriff drove me to a small, private hospital that was
run by a doctor and his wife (Nellie). They were waiting for me, although the
doctor wasn’t really up – he was flat on his back, as he had been for twenty
years-paralyzed. His wife wheeled him about on a special contraption. He was
still practicing, still helping people. A wonderful man. His wife drove me back
to Tarzan’s barn the next morning. While the horse ate his grain, she and I
talked. It was (a) pleasant conversation, but I sensed that she was trying to
tell me something and didn’t know quite how to go about it. So, I tried to make
it easy for her by saying, ‘Some people don’t approve of what I’m trying to
do.’
‘My
husband and I approve,’ she said.
‘Thank
you.’
‘And
we wish you would change your mind.’
I
wasn’t sure that I’d heard correctly. Depeche Toi was sitting there, head
cocked and looking at her, as if he was puzzled, too.
‘While
you and I were having breakfast this morning, my husband phoned Minot,’ she
continued. ‘He talked to your doctor there. So now we know about you, too.’ She
paused, then added, ‘Courage isn’t everything. It’s just one thing.’
I
nodded and waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. I was grateful for her concern
and pleased that she didn’t press the issue. She was just reminding me of the
time limit on my life…I came close to telling her my secret: I had the Lord’s
approval. Or was it His blessing?
…Now,
I said, ‘I’m feeling better than I have in years. The fresh air helps some, I
suppose, but the nice people I’m meeting along the way helps more.’
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| Described as a 'breezy read,' most reviews rate "Last of the Saddle Tramps" from 4.5 to 5.0. |
She
smiled, then put her hands on my shoulders and looked right into my eyes.
‘You’ll get there, you MUST get there,’ she said. Then she kissed me on the
left cheek, turned and walked to her car and drove off. I don’t think she
looked back, but I waved goodbye anyway.”
Verbatim
from her book, that was Annie’s account of her first brush with humanity before
the media had begun telegraphing her story. Today, the Bennett family operates Ledgewood
Manor, Inc. on Tandberg Trail in North Windham.
Later,
in New Hampshire, a Portland Press Herald reporter and an AP photographer
caught up with Annie. “That’s what started the whole press thing,” she
observed.
After
that, nearly every town expected her arrival; she would often be given a police
escort. “I felt like Lindbergh from Paris, but I must have looked more like
Buffalo Bill’s wife.”
On
the way through Massachusetts she was treated to a full Thanksgiving meal. And
just outside of Springfield she was directed to a small inn that announced,
“Washington Slept Here” and where Tarzan got his own private box stall. A snowstorm
briefly halted their departure. When they did leave, a sign was posted over the
stable, “Tarzan Sept Here.”
While
riding through New Jersey, Annie recorded in her road diary, “I’m beginning to
think we’d been adopted by truck drivers,” who frequently stopped to advise
what she could expect “up ahead.”
Annie
entered Pennsylvania with a cough and a severe back ache. Fortunately, she was
invited to stay as long as she wished at the plush Chadds Ford Inn where rest
and good food helped her make a full recovery. Annie reported that she and
Tarzan were feeling “fitter” than when they’d started out in Maine.
“When
I went out to saddle Tarzan, I found that he had company. A man was sitting
there on a box making a drawing of my horse. I looked over his shoulder as he
worked, and I liked what I saw.
‘You’re pretty good,’ I told him. “He thanked
me and said his name was Andrew. He finished the drawing; Annie saddled Tarzan
and left. It was years before Annie realized she had been talking to the famous
artist Andrew Wyeth, who lived in Maine and wintered in Chadds Ford,
Pennsylvania.
Over
the following months, Annie would experience the heat of deserts, the blinding
snow and cold of the western mountains and the dangers of unfamiliar terrain.
In Arkansas, she barely escaped the fangs of a coiled cottonmouth snake; in
Colorado, she was nearly trampled by a herd of cattle, and in Wyoming, awoke
one morning under water as a flash flood overtook their camp site. The rushing
water spooked Tarzan and her pack horse; they ran 30 miles back in the direction
they had come.
Ultimately, delays and distractions stretched their journey past
Annie’s 64th birthday.
In
one unusual incident, an overnight stay at a farm in western Wyoming resulted
in a marriage proposal from an elderly goat herder. Annie told him, “I have to
think about it.” Later that day she moved on, and in her words, “…never looked
back.”
And
yes, following 18 states, 17 months, 7 thousand miles and eight diaries, Annie,
Tarzan and Depeche Toi dipped their feet in the Pacific Ocean. She even
appeared on the popular Art Linkletter’s House Party television program. Said
Annie, “From his introduction, you would have thought our trip was more
important than the one Columbus had made.”
All
of America had embraced the portly, friendly-faced woman from Maine. She had
the courage and determination to realize her dream before the admiring eyes of
millions across the country.
Mesannie
Wilkins remained in the West for a long time; she eventually returned to Maine
and settled in a town near Minot. A doctor’s diagnosis that she would die before
reaching retirement age proved to be unfounded. She passed away in 1980 at the
age of 89.
According
to Annie, “Doctors, they don’t know everything. Most things in life are
foreordained.” <
Next
time, A Matter of Historical Record returns with a salute to Maine’s
bicentennial. What was Windham’s vote on statehood? You may be surprised.
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