Though Waters Roar

Though Waters Roar

by Lynn Austin

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Overview

Harriet Sherwood has always adored her grandmother. But when Harriet decides to follow her footsteps to fight for social justice, she certainly never expected her efforts to land her in jail. Nor did she expect her childhood enemy and notorious school bully, Tommy O'Reilly, to be the arresting officer.

Languishing in a jail cell, Harriet has plenty of time to sift through the memories of the three generations of women who have preceded her. As each story emerges, the strength of her family--and their deep faith in the God of justice and righteousness--brings Harriet to discovery of her own goals and motives for pursuing them.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780764204968
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Publication date: 10/01/2009
Pages: 432
Sales rank: 489,165
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.30(h) x 1.20(d)

About the Author

Lynn Austin, a former teacher who now writes and speaks full time, has won four Christy Awards for her historical fiction. One of those novels, Hidden Places, has also been made into a Hallmark Channel movie. Lynn and her husband have raised three children and make their home near Chicago, Illinois.

Read an Excerpt

Though Waters Roar


By Lynn Austin

Bethany House Publishers

Copyright © 2009 Lynn Austin
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-7642-0496-8


Chapter One

It was ironic.

I lay in my jail cell on a squeaky iron bunk, gazing at the stained mattress above me, and I remembered the day I first understood the meaning of the word ironic. I couldn't help smiling at ... well, at the irony of it. The meaning had become clear to me ten years ago on the day my grandmother, Beatrice Monroe Garner, was arrested.

That day had also been a Saturday-just like today. Mother had been distressed because Grandma Bebe, as we called her, would miss church services tomorrow if Father didn't go down to the jailhouse and bail her out.

"She can't spend the Sabbath in prison!" Mother had wailed. "Please, John. We have to get her out of there!"

I was going to miss church services tomorrow, too, come to think of it. Who would teach my Sunday school class of ten-year-old girls? As my father undoubtedly would have pointed out: "Perhaps you should have considered their welfare before getting yourself arrested in the first place, Harriet."

I had been the same age as my Sunday school girls when Grandma Bebe landed in jail that day. My sister, Alice, and I had been eating breakfast with our parents when the telephone rang. The device was brand-spanking-new back then in 1910, and we all stopped eating, listening to see if itwould chime our party line exchange of three short rings. When it did, Mother unhooked the earphone and cupped it to her ear, standing on tiptoes to speak into the little cone-shaped mouthpiece. She burst into tears the moment she replaced the receiver.

"That ... that was ... the police!" she managed to tell us through her sobs. "They arrested my mother last night and ... and ... she's in jail!"

My older sister gasped. She was the feminine, fluttery type of girl who did a great deal of gasping. "Arrested! But why? What did Grandma do?"

"Oh, how could they do such a thing to her?" Mother cried. "She isn't a criminal!"

"Is there any more coffee?" my father asked calmly. "I would like another cup, if you don't mind."

"Oh, John! How can you drink coffee at a time like this? Don't you care?"

"Beatrice Garner cares nothing at all for her family's reputation, so why should I care what happens to her? She knew the consequences when she and that temperance gang of hers started running around smashing whiskey barrels. She made her bed when she decided to become another Carrie Nation, and now she'll have to lie in it."

This brought another cloudburst of weeping from Mother. Alice rose from the table to comfort her. Father sighed and handed me his empty cup. "Fill this for me, would you, Harriet? That's a good girl." Our hired girl had the morning off, so I obediently took his cup to the kitchen to refill it, then sat down and waited for act two of this drama.

"Please, John. I'm begging you," Mother said. "Please get her out of that terrible place."

"And that's another thing," Father said. "What kind of an example is she setting for our daughters?" He poured cream into the coffee I'd brought him and slowly stirred it as if not expecting a reply.

Aside from begging and weeping, my mother could do nothing to help Grandma Bebe-which was ironic, since Grandma was working hard to give women more power in this world. And Grandma Bebe despised tears. "Women should never use them as weapons," she always insisted, "especially to prevail upon a man to change his mind." Yet, ironically, my mother had resorted to tears in order to persuade my father. Grandma Bebe would not have approved.

But Grandma was in jail.

And tears were ultimately what convinced Father to go downtown and bail her out. Alice had joined the deluge of weeping, and Father wasn't strong enough to stop the flood or stand firm against it. No man was. My sister's heart was as soft and gooey as oatmeal. She could turn her tears on and off like a modern-day plumbing faucet and was capable of unleashing buckets of them.

Alice was sixteen and so beautiful that brilliant men became stupid whenever they were around her. The moment her wide, blue eyes welled up, every man in sight would pull out a white handkerchief and offer it to her as if waving in surrender. Grandma Bebe had no patience with her.

"Your sister could do a great deal of good for the cause," she once told me. "Alice is the kind of woman who men go to war over-like Helen of Troy. But she'll squander it all, I'm sorry to say. She'll surrender to the first humbug who dishes her a little sweet-talk. Women like her always do. It's too bad," Grandma said with a sigh. "Your sister believes the lie that women are the weaker sex. Her prodigious use of tears perpetuates that myth.... But there's hope for you, Harriet," Grandma Bebe added. Whenever the subject of Alice's amazing beauty arose, Grandma would pat my unruly brown hair and say, "Thank goodness you're such a plain child. You'll have to rely on your wits."

The fact that Alice came to Grandma's rescue with tears is ironic, isn't it? I didn't join the torrent of weeping that morning. I didn't want to let Grandma down.

I loved my grandmother, and I greatly admired her ferocity and passion. Mind you, these weren't qualities that polite society admired in women, but they fascinated me. Even so, I didn't want to be like my fiery grandmother and end up in jail, any more than I wanted to be a dutiful wife like Mother or a virtuous siren like Alice. But how was I supposed to live as a modern woman, born just before the dawn of the twentieth century? What other choices did I have? That's the question I was endeavoring to answer when I ended up in jail.

But I was only ten that fateful day when Grandma got arrested and still young enough to be ignored most of the time unless Father needed more coffee. I was a keen observer, however, absorbing everything that went on around me as I began drawing a map for my life. Grandma Bebe told me that everyone's life led somewhere, and so I needed to have a plan.

"Grip the rudder and steer, Harriet. Don't just drift gently down the stream. If you don't have a map, you might run aground somewhere or end up crushed against the rocks. Always know where you're headed."

She had given up on coaching Mother and Alice-her current saviors, Ironically-and had begun putting all of her effort into shaping me. She made that decision after she saw me kick Tommy O'Reilly in the shin one day when he tried to bully me into giving him my candy. Tommy was the constable's son, and he bullied all the kids in town. But that day I took a step toward him as if about to give him a cinnamon stick and kicked his bony shin, instead.

"You, my dear, have potential!" Grandma said as Tommy hopped around on one leg, howling. "You'll never float downstream, Harriet. You know how to paddle!"

My map was still just a pencil sketch, to be sure. In later years I would embellish it as each new experience added details to the picture. In time, I would carefully identify all of the dangers to avoid, all of the pitfalls to be wary of. I was trying to heed Grandma's advice, you see, but had she heeded her own? Had she deliberately steered her way into the town jail, or had she let go of the rudder? Or misplaced her map? If she ever got out of jail again, I intended to ask her.

"Please, Father, please!" Alice begged, kneeling at his feet like someone out of the Bible. "Please don't leave Grandma there forever!" Alice had worked herself into such a frenzy that she was about to faint. She was a champion at swooning-another womanly trait Grandma loathed. All Alice had to do was lift her dainty hand to her brow and flutter her eyelashes, and every man in sight would race to catch her before she fell.

Father set down his coffee cup and turned to me. "Get the smelling salts, Harriet. That's a good girl."

Alice was still kneeling, so at least she didn't have too far to fall this time. As I sprinted upstairs to retrieve the vial of ammonia salts, I heard Father say, "Oh, very well. You can stop all the caterwauling. I'll go down and bail Beatrice out of jail."

I didn't blame Father for wanting to flee from the rising floodwaters. I raced back to the kitchen and pulled the cork on the smelling salts, then shoved them under Alice's dainty nose. When order was restored, I followed my father out to the front hallway.

"May I go with you to rescue Grandma?"

"Certainly not! Jail is no place for a delicate young lady."

Back then I didn't believe him, but the truth of his statement was now quite clear to me as I lay in my own jail cell.

Father plucked his duster and driving gloves from the hallstand and stuffed his hat on his balding head, muttering darkly about Grandma Bebe as he headed out the door. I skipped along beside him, nodding in support. Together we started up the Model-T Ford, and I jumped into the passenger seat. The car rattled and coughed all the way to the end of the block before he realized I was still there.

"Wait! Harriet ... what ... you can't come along!"

I didn't argue or weep. I simply looked up at him, eye to eye, jutting out my chin a little. That's how I faced Tommy O'Reilly whenever he tried to bully me at school-I would stare silently back at him, arms crossed, my foot aimed at his shin. The stare I gave Father wasn't quite as defiant as the one I used on Tommy, but it had the same effect.

"Oh, bother it all, Harriet! I suppose you're already here ..." Father turned his attention back to the car as it sputtered and nearly died.

"It needs more throttle," I said, pulling out the lever. "Advance the spark a little."

"But you aren't coming inside, Harriet. I mean it. Jail isn't the sort of place ... and your grandmother has no business ..."

I nodded dutifully-and followed him inside the police station just the same. Father went straight in to see the constable, Thomas O'Reilly, Sr. He told us that Grandma Bebe had been arrested after trying to close down a saloon last night. Most of the other members of the Women's Christian Temperance Union had gone home peacefully once the police arrived to break up the protest, but not Grandma. She had refused to give up the fight against the evils of Demon Rum.

"And I'm afraid we had to confiscate her axe," he finished.

Father nodded and paid her fine. In no time at all, Grandma Bebe was liberated from jail. We heard her shouting all the way down the hall as a policeman tried to lead her out of the cell.

"No, wait! Unhand me this instant! I'm not ready to leave! This jail is filled with drunkards-the very people I'm trying to rescue."

Constable O'Reilly rolled his eyes. "It's been a very long night, John. Get her out of here. Please."

"Did you know," Grandma continued as the police handed back her purse and coat, "that there is one saloon for every three hundred people in this country? There are more saloons than there are schools, libraries, hospitals, theaters, or parks-and certainly more saloons than churches."

We drove Grandma home.

Like the brave soldiers who had gone to war forty-five years earlier to battle the evils of slavery, my grandmother was willing to sacrifice her own liberty, if necessary, to set men free from slavery to alcohol. And that was the ultimate irony, I thought, as I lay on the lumpy jail cot pondering my own arrest and imprisonment. You see, Grandma Bebe had recently won the war against Demon Rum. The Eighteenth Amendment to the United States' Constitution had become law a few months ago on January 29, 1920, making the manufacture, sale, and transportation of all alcoholic beverages strictly prohibited.

And I was in jail for defying it.

Yes, I found my situation very ironic. There would be no tears of sympathy for me from Mother or Alice-much less Grandma Bebe. And Father would undoubtedly say, "You made your bed, Harriet, and now you'll have to lie in it."

So how did I end up becoming a criminal? I've been pondering that question all night. Perhaps the best way to search for an answer is to start at the very beginning.

Chapter Two

My grandmother was young, once, and not altogether sure of herself. I find this unbelievable, knowing the woman she has become, but she has sworn that it's true and my grandmother doesn't lie. "Any assuredness that I now possess, Harriet, has been acquired out of necessity," she insisted. "I was born with no degree of confidence whatsoever. In fact, quite the opposite is true."

She was born in the northeastern corner of Pennsylvania on her parents' farm, nestled in a valley in the Pocono Mountains. Beatrice Aurelia Monroe arrived on the same day, month, and year that the first Women's Rights Convention was held: July 19, 1848. Of course she was too young on the day of her birth to realize what a portentous coincidence this was, but she would later declare her birthday a sign from Providence.

While Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, and the rest of that august group of women were signing "The Declaration of Sentiments and Resolutions" in Seneca Falls, New York, and firing the first shot in the battle for women's rights, Great Grandma Hannah Monroe was also doing battle as she labored to give birth to Grandma Bebe-who had the audacity to come out backward. Bebe was destined to do everything in life unconventionally, so arriving feet-first was only the beginning. She also had the audacity to be a girl. Her father, Henry Monroe, had directed his wife to produce a boy-which seems a bit selfish to me, seeing as he already had four sons: James, age nine, William, seven, Joseph, five, and Franklin, who was three.

"What do you mean he's a girl?" an indignant Henry asked the midwife when she told him the news. He stomped into the bedroom in his work boots and peeked into the baby's diaper, convinced that the midwife had missed an important detail. When it was obvious that she hadn't, he handed the howling bundle back to his wife. "This was supposed to be a boy, Hannah. A man can never have too many sons to help him out."

"I know, my dear," she said gently, "but the Good Lord has seen fit to bless us with a girl this time."

Perhaps the Good Lord realized that Hannah also could use some help around the farm, feeding and clothing her strapping husband and four growing sons. That's how Hannah chose to view her little daughter-as God's good gift. She gazed down at the baby and smiled as Henry tromped out of the room. "Don't mind him, my little one. He always gets testy when his dinner is late."

Dinner was late that day on account of Beatrice coming out backward and taking more time to arrive than she should have. But Hannah was a devout Christian woman, and as soon as the midwife spread the news of the baby's arrival throughout the little farming community of New Canaan, Pennsylvania, the other church women quickly drove out to share portions of their own dinners with Hannah's disgruntled husband and four hungry sons. Of course the pantry was filled with the provisions that Hannah had prepared for her time of confinement, but Henry and the boys were incapable of crossing into such feminine territory as the pantry to forage for their own food. They were even less capable of reheating any of it on the stove.

Once Henry's belly was filled, his attitude toward his new daughter did seem to soften, slightly. "I suppose we can learn to make the best of it," he grumbled as he removed his boots at the end of the day and climbed into bed beside his wife. "There's always next time."

Hannah swallowed a rash reply at the mention of "next time," the memory of her harrowing breech labor still fresh in her mind. She whispered a swift, silent prayer to the Almighty, instead. Then she rested her hand on her husband's arm and said, "She's a beautiful, healthy baby-thanks be to God. I would like to christen her Beatrice, if it's all the same to you. Beatrice Aurelia Monroe." Henry didn't reply to Hannah's request until after she'd finished cooking his breakfast the next morning and had set it on the table in front of him. He crunched into a piece of bacon and said, "That name would be acceptable, I suppose."

Hannah had learned patience during her ten years of marriage. She hadn't expected a reply any sooner than noon. Henry required a sufficient amount of time to pray about such matters and didn't like to be rushed. Three-year-old Franklin, who couldn't pronounce "Beatrice," shortened the baby's name to Bebe. The name stuck, and my sister and I still call her Grandma Bebe seventy-two years later.

The first few years of Grandma's life passed uneventfully, by her account. She grew to be a quiet, nervous child, which was understandable since everyone else on the farm was bigger and louder and stronger than she was. With four older brothers to dodge-along with a team of horses, a pair of oxen, and a herd of milk cows-at times it felt as though there were a conspiracy to trample poor Bebe underfoot. The first useful phrase she comprehended as a toddler was, "Get out of the way, Bebe!"

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Though Waters Roar by Lynn Austin Copyright © 2009 by Lynn Austin. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Though Waters Roar 4.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 34 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Noelene More than 1 year ago
This book was chosen by my women's Christian book club as the feature read a few months ago. WOW! The group dialogue that this story generated laid the foundation for an incredible and touching sharing session. It was enlightening to hear how many women (of various generations) had experiences in their own lives that mirrored those of the characters in this book. Lynn brought these characters to life and the story home, in a very powerful way. There were ten women who read this book together, and on a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being the best you've ever read) gave this book either a 9 or a 10. I think that says it all.
JenM7 More than 1 year ago
The book Though Waters Roar by Lynn Austin is written as if it is told by the main character Harriet, but it also travels back in time with remembrances of her Grandma's bravery during the "Great Flood of 1876." Harriet's character develops through her own experiences, but she is able to learn from the experiences her Grandma shares with her. This is a story of helping others, right and wrong, and consequences. Bethany House publishers provided me with a copy of Though Waters Roar by Lynn Austin. In return for this book, I get to blog about it and share my opinion.
ldellinger on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Though Waters Roar is a historic novel about generations of women in America fighting in their respective times to protect runaway slaves on the Underground Railroad, to abolish the sale of alcohol during Prohibition and to pass an amendment for the Women¿s Suffrage movement.Personally, I found the subject matter interesting. I enjoy American history and found Lynn Austin¿s portrayal of the plight of American women throughout the last century engaging. However, Austin's historical novel is committed entirely to neither plot nor verisimilitude. Her language is simple and her story plain and somewhat predictable; the novel seems as if it were written for the education of junior high students. Apparently, Austin believes the key to a woman's happiness and success are strong Christian faith, hard work, and self respect. With those morals in mind, Austin puts her characters through contrite situations with clear moral imperatives which just happen to take place during historical revolutions.For my taste, Though Water Roars was too didactic and unrealistic and didn't address actual historical events. For the right reader, however, it could be educational and interesting!
ysab3l on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Typically I don't like Christian fiction, especially the type aimed at women. Though I am a Christian myself, most of the time I find the stories saccharin sweet and completely unbelievable. This book has some of those moments. There are times when I can;t simply believe that someone is that naive. But those moments are few, and the core story that emerges is a sweet remembrance of character driven ladies, who refused to be shaped by their times and circumstances. Reminiscing while in jail the heroine picks apart her life and the lives of her matriarchs and draws strength from the wells of their faith and perseverance and well as discovers the value of her own. It's a story about resistance in trouble times when the status quo seems to be everything but what the Lord would have you to do. A good read.
angelswing on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
I liked this book. The characters are inspirational. It is the story of three generations of women and how they each lived their lives by their faith. However, I really thought that some of the characters need to be more developed, especially Harriet's great grandmother. Still all in all, I recommend it as an inspirational read.
Sheltiemama on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
"Though Waters Roar" tells the story of four generations of a family's women. It opens with Harriet sitting in jail and wondering how she got there. All we know is that somehow she's broken the Prohibition law, a cause for which her grandmother worked for decades. To figure it out, Harriet takes a mental tour of their lives, going back to the day her grandmother was born in 1848.This novel presents wonderful images of strong women. Harriet's great-grandmother supported abolition and helped slaves escape on the Underground Railroad. Her grandmother, whose story forms the heart of the book, worked for prohibition after seeing what alcohol did to her weak but beloved husband. Harriet's mother, Lucy, surprises everyone by turning from a socialite into a suffragette. Their strong faith guides these women, though Harriet is just starting on that path. I hope Lynn Austin writes a sequel, because I'd love to see what cause Harriet feels led to support. Civil rights, perhaps?This would be a great book for teenage girls, as well as adults.
smilingsally on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Lynn Austin can write! I completed this 428 page book and sighed with satisfaction. Her characters are well-rounded, flawed people; I make connections to each one and anxiously turn the page to find out what will happen next. The plot is a series of jigsaw pieces, carefully put into place until a satisfactory picture emerges.The theme is one of relationships between mothers and daughters as well as husbands and wives, while the setting spans four generations of U.S. history. Read this one. You won't be disappointed.
jonnydollar77 on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Though Waters Roar is a novel that addresses social issues, such as slavery, Prohibition and the suffrage movement, in a tasteful and interesting manner. Austin delivers a great read with this novel that contains endearing tales and also a look into what life was like, especially for women, in the late 1800's and early 1900's. Although the way in which the storyline progresses can at times be confusing, the overall tale that is spun is very intriguing. Spine-tingling and thrilling are not necessarily how I would describe this story, but it was hard to put down nonetheless. The characters face obstacles and issues in their lives that I'm certain most readers will connect with at some level. And although their choices are not always wise we, as the reader, have the benefit of learning from their errors. Each of the main characters have qualities and characteristics that are admirable, but they also have some that are not so attractive, just like we all do; which makes them that much more believable. The theme of reliance on God is very apparent throughout the generations of families that are brought to life in this narrative, and while not extremely overt, it is definitely recognizable. The other theme that leaps out at me from the pages of this book is that of the human nature to always do what pleases our own selves. This attitude is certainly not glorified in this story, but it is an integral part of the storyline, showing the error of living one's life solely with this mindset.A definite thumbs up for this book!
Islandgal on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
As twenty-year old Harriet Sherwood sits in jail, she ponders the irony that she has been arrested for transporting liquor at the advent of Prohibition, the very cause her grandmother has advocated for more than forty years.Lynn Austin skillfully weaves a multi-generational tale set between 1848-1920 introducing us to Hannah, Beatrice, Lucy & Harriet, their choices and the resulting challenges facing them throughout their lives. Set amidst the national themes of Anti-slavery, Civil War, the Temperance movement, and finally Women¿s Suffrage, the attitudes and expectations of men toward women may surprise those unstudied in America¿s history. Each woman¿s attitude and reaction toward their situation is compelling and varied. The book is particularly powerful in its faith message of turning to and trusting in God during desperate times of trial. When Beatrice leaves her alcoholic husband, her mother firmly counsels her to return and fight for him, through prayer, for God to help her husband overcome his weakness. Beatrice is reminded that her marriage was a vow made before God for better and worse, and that times of trial do not mean quitting and giving up. In today¿s casualness of marriage and vows, Lynn Austin¿s characters demonstrate to the modern woman how to turn to God for strength in seemingly impossible moments. The rest of the counsel might surprise and anger you, as it did Beatrice, but in following Beatrice through her journey, we recognize the strength and power within ourselves that comes by allowing God to work within us to change our circumstances through His will. As each character discovers this is not an easy choice, but a difficult, daily, conscience decision worth making.Other themes include the relationship between mother and daughter, social classes, marriage, love, business. Characters demonstrate that making the right decision is often the more difficult path to follow. The author does not ignore her characters weaknesses, but allows them to learn from their mistakes. The reader shares their love, frustration, anger, and other emotions as they share their lives. The trials faced by each character are similar to current situations we all face today.
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Great Read!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book was excellent! Another great one by Lynn Austin. She really knows how to capture the readers.
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
had only read one Lynn Austin book prior to this one and have to say this has been on my back burner for awhile, even though it did sound interesting. What a great story to show where we as women and our country have came from. Slavery, prohibition, loss, womens rights, etc. This book has a little of it all. Women who start out weak and end up showing their true colors. This was one that I actually marked a lot in and I feel will be a great discussion book. I am so excited about sharing it with the great women in my book club. Keep up the good work Ms Austin, your writing on this book was great. And thank you for bringing a highlight to women and the courage that we too can possess if we add God to the mix.
sumteacher More than 1 year ago
Love the historical context of Austin's novels, and I love her women - strong and opinionated, going against the grain of society at the time. Grandmother Bebe is priceless. I like the way this story is told through multi-generations.
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amykaybec More than 1 year ago
Love Lynn Autin and her historical fiction. Always learn so much Hope they include more of her books to e-books
Rosedale More than 1 year ago
Another great Austin book from the first page and gets better! She gives us so much "meat" in a novel and not a lot of fluff like some Christian fiction -- extremely well written! GREAT JOB Lynne!!