Betty Bolté

“America! It’s the land of the free and the home of the brave – some of the bravest chicks ever!
Celebrate your patriotism. This isn’t your third-period history book – it’s packed with pages of
pride. Cheer on 19 kick-butt 19th-century girls who risked it all for their country.”
Girls Life, Dec/Jan 02

“Betty Bolté’s Hometown Heroines is a superbly presented collection of historical biographies of
young women who lived in 19th century America. Each of the nineteen young women featured is
so extraordinary that she is remembered with at least one memorial ranging from a city park to a
mountain peak. ...Very highly recommended for women’s studies, Hometown Heroines is a rare
and exciting glimpse of how women contributed to Americans history and a refreshing
supplement to the male-dominated stories found in textbooks.”
The Midwest Book Review, October 2001

“Engaging and easy to read, this piece combines historical fiction and the real facts. ...The book
begins with a timeline of inventions of the 19th century. This helps put the heroines’ lives into
perspective, and is very useful for the young reader. ... This book will be enjoyed by even those
who don’t especially care for historical pieces – the stories are that well-written and exciting. I’d
recommend it for readers from the fourth grade on through adulthood.”
Janet Fogarty, Librarian, Canton, GA

“Reading this book was like being backstage at a play or the making of a movie. The young
heroines ... took part in many important historical events in our country and hardly anyone knows
they existed. They were the links behind the scenes of our nation’s most important times in
history and now everyone can read about how these young girls made our country stronger by
their devotion to the land and people they loved so dearly.”
Pamela Hayes, Teacher, Canton, GA

“It’s important that young people understand that adults aren’t the only ones responsible for the
building of America; they, too, made positive differences then, and can do so even now! Don’t
just limit these stories to American History, however. The accounts can also be used to discuss,
teach, or write about character building. Read the stories aloud, then discuss how life skills such
as initiative, perseverance, honesty, courage, fairness, trustworthiness, etc., were exhibited.
Challenge students to not only see but believe that: doing the right thing, is always the right
thing!”
Barb Pace, 5th Grade Teacher, Indianapolis, IN

Here is one story from the book. This story won an Honorable Mention in the 2000 Writers Digest Writing Contest.

Minnie looked up from the book on her wooden desk and glanced out the window of the
sod schoolhouse. Another blast of wind rattled the glass. She knew a blizzard was coming. She
had lived in Nebraska long enough to recognize the signs. The unusually warm January morning
had coaxed the children to play outside without their coats on before class started. Now the wind
blew from the north and brought a sudden drop in the temperature along with it. They had
already stoked the fire with more coal to ward off the freezing temperatures outside. Minnie
knew they had enough to coal to see them through the night if necessary. She’d rather the
children return home to their families, though.

She scanned the seventeen students seated at their desks, heads bent over their work,
though occasionally a head turned toward the window. About half of them were teenagers who
had grown up on the prairie. They knew as well as she did what was coming.

“Children,” Minnie said. “We’re going to have a blizzard. I’m dismissing class for today.
Please gather your things and dress warmly for the walk home.”

A scramble of feet followed, with the older children helping the younger children to put
on their boots and wrap up as well as they could in their cloaks and overcoats. The raging wind
became white with snowflakes hurling past the window.

“Hurry, now. The storm is growing worse.” Minnie fastened the last hook on one little
girl’s cloak as she spoke. “Do not be frightened. You will reach home safely, I’m sure.”

Suddenly a squall of wind struck the windows harder than before and the panes gave way,
crashing to the floor of the schoolhouse. The door blew off its hinges and thudded to the floor. A
rush of snow and ice whirled in, creating drifts across the plank floor. A couple of the older boys
quickly picked the door up and refastened it in place, but the windows were still open and there
was nothing they could do about the snow piling up inside the one-room school. Minnie realized
the children would not be safe inside for long. Quickly, she grabbed a ball of twine from her desk
and tied each child’s wrist to the next in a line, then fastened the end to her own wrist. Then she
talked quietly to the children, trying to keep them calm as they waited to see what would happen
next.

She was glad her students liked and trusted her, despite the fact that she wasn’t much
older than some of them. She had grown up in Ord, Nebraska and gone to school at York
College. Now at the age of 19 she was the teacher at Midvale school in Mira Valley. And the
lives of her seventeen pupils were tied to her wrist.

The wind moaned outside as the snow swirled. Then the moan grew louder as the roof
suddenly lifted from the sod walls and blew away.

They could not stay at the school and survive the storm. If they could reach the boarding
house where she lived, almost a mile away, then they could wait out the storm. There was food
and warmth there.

“Come on, children,” she said, and led the way out an open window frame.

Ice and snow pelted her face, and she could barely see where she was heading. Wind
roared in her ears. The sky had darkened with the thickness of the snow clouds. Minnie struggled
on, pulling the line of students behind her. Occasionally, she could feel a tug on the twine as
someone behind slipped in the snow or had trouble stomping through the deepening drifts. She
didn’t try to talk to the student behind her, rather motioned with her hand to provide direction
and comfort. Minnie knew they must keep moving if they were to have any chance of reaching
the house.

With each step Minnie took, she hoped and prayed that God would see them all safely
into the warmth of the farmhouse. She hoped they were walking in the right direction and not
becoming confused by the swirling of snowflakes in front of their eyes. The responsibility of the
seventeen lives behind her weighed heavy on her mind, and pushed her forward despite her own
fatigue and fear, as they fought their way through the storm.

Suddenly, her feet slipped out from under her and she plunged into the snow. She was so
tired. She almost wanted to just stay and rest a while. She shook her head. That was certain death
in a storm of this size. She looked at her students, their worried frowns showing their concern.
Several hands reached out and helped her up. She brushed snow from her face and squared her
shoulders. She would see them through this. She plodded on, one step in front of the other, her
head bowed against the fierce wind.

Minnie raised her head against the blinding snow and could barely see a lantern in the
window of the farmhouse ahead. Almost there. With renewed energy, she kept walking, leading
the trusting children behind her. Finally they reached the door. Minnie pushed it open and light
and heat rushed out to meet the snow blowing in.

“Minnie! What’s this?” the housewife who ran the boarding house asked, hurrying to the
door.

“The school was not safe. I had to bring them here.”

Minnie ushered the children in before closing the door securely against the wind. They’d
made it to safety, food, and warmth, just as she’d promised.