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Frontier Teachers: Stories of Heroic Women of the Old West
Twenty-two-year-old Olive Isbell cradled a loaded rifle in her arms and scanned the hilly landscape surrounding the adobe school where she taught at the Santa Clara Mission in California. From far off she could hear a gun spit in swift five-syllable defiance, and she readied herself for a potential attack on the building. Twenty preoccupied students toiled away at the books and lessons in front of them. The exchange of gunfire was so routine it barely disturbed their studies. The mission was under fire from the Mexican Army, which was trying to reclaim land it believed belonged to Mexico.
Settlers scattered throughout the area had converged on the site for protection. More than 195 people with their wagon trains and pack animals spread out over various sections of the mission were busy loading weapons and preparing themselves for a fight. A number of those people had contracted typhoid fever. They were weak and at times unable to work, and they desperately needed medical attention.
Olive had gathered the healthy children together at a stable on the far side of the compound. It was her way of keeping the youngsters occupied and safe during the uprising. The one-room, makeshift schoolhouse was 15 feet square, thick with flies and fleas, with dirt floors and the stench of manure. A few crude tables and benches made from scraps of wood were used as desks and chairs for the pupils, who ranged in age from six to fourteen years old. A fire pit in the center of the room kept the class warm, and the smoke from the hearth escaped through a large hole in the roof.
Olive vowed to educate the pioneer class to the best of her ability and protect them from any harm. The gun that swung from the belt of her gingham dress when it wasn’t in her arms assured her students they were safe.
To learn all the dangers Olive had to protect the children from read
Frontier Teachers: Stories of Heroic Women of the Old West
