I can relate a grisly near-miss:
When my Grandfather and Grandmother got married they moved into the “little house,” or log cabin on the farm in Oklahoma, while Great-grandmother and Great-grandfather lived in the clapboard house.
One day my grandparents went to visit Grandma’s father, Great-grandfather Peters. They left the wagon in the yard when they came back, and walked down through the timber to their “little house.”
The next morning, the men got up to do the chores. As they passed the wagon, Great-grandfather Humphrey saw a clothesbasket in the wagon and thought it was Ella (Great-grandfather Peters’ second wife’s) washing.
Coming back to the house for breakfast, Great-grandfather took the cover off the basket and found the baby. When he lifted the cover, he threw his hat into the air and said “Great God, Carry, it’s a baby!”
This was the note with the baby:
May the 9, 1902
Kind Lady
Please take my child and keep it, for I can’t. Me and my husband has ben railroading and he has left me. And I am not able to keep the child and make a living. The child has no name. I leave that to you it was born on April the 5, 1902.
I can’t pay you But God can.
The men of the family suspected a man named Kelly of leaving the baby there. Kelly drove a covered wagon, and often stopped at the farm. He had seen Great-grandmother taking care of foster children, and thought she was the best mother in the world. The men went into town and confronted Kelly, but he just looked at the ground and wouldn’t say anything.
Later they heard he had told some friends that he had seen a woman in the brush, digging. Every now and then, she would stop and look at something on the ground, then go back to her digging.
My grandfather and great-grandfather were angry with Kelly, but I can’t find it in my heart to feel other than thanks that on that day he prevented a horrible crime, the murder of my Aunt Josephine, then a helpless infant.