I had just left the Omaha airport and was 5 minutes into my 2 hour drive toward Carroll, Iowa.  Apple Maps told me to turn on “Mormon Bridge Road”.  The next sign said “Mormon Trail Winter Quarters, Next Right”

I had grown up hearing stories of my ancestors at Winter Quarters nearly every Sunday, it seemed. I had no idea that I was THERE.  I pulled over for a visit. 

One of my ancestors is buried here. Morgan Melican Thomas lost his life here at age 20. 314 Mormon pioneers, from infant to old, lost their lives and are buried here. 

This is sacred ground. 

I’m proud to descend from people who were willing to – and often did – pay the ultimate price for what they believed in. 

My ancestors are Soul Anarchists in the truest sense of the term. They were in rebellion against the Federal Government, and had to stand up to persecution including an extermination order by the governor of a neighboring state. 


This is a sobering thing, considering the modern fixation with victim mentality and identity politics.  

I feel it in my bones – quite literally – that it is central to my purpose to stand up for what is good and right, to live life on my own terms, and then to help others do the same. I inherited Soul Anarchy from them. 

Without these people doing what they did – I would not exist, nor would the city I now call home. 

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