Thread by @BryanDeanWright

Oregon is trending, I see.

Let me tell you why this story of my home state riles me up so.

Let me tell you why Oregon — and this country, our freedoms & liberty — matter so much to me.

Let me take you back. Way back.

My family arrived in Massachusetts in the late 1600s.

Details are slim before 1787. That’s when my fifth great grandfather Jeptha was born.

It appears his mother was unwed when she became pregnant.

A widower in New Hampshire took them both in.

Jeptha farmed for a time in New York and served as a blacksmith in Michigan before settling down in Steuben County, Indiana in 1839.

He had 14 children.

Each of his sons got an ax on their 21st birthday and told to leave.

He treated them as neighbors from that day forward.

America was young then. Opportunity awaited out West.

His sons Anson (age 25) & Albert (age 27) started out on the Oregon Trail in 1852.

Albert brought his wife and two girls. Anson had yet to marry.

The brothers decided to split, agreeing that Anson could settle their land claim faster traveling with two friends.

Albert & his family thus wintered in Iowa.

They left that spring. A son — Silas (below) — was born in the wagon on the trail somewhere in the Nebraska Territory.

Albert & Anson both eventually arrived safely in Oregon. They farmed & raised sheep in the Willamette Valley.

Six years later, tragedy struck.

Anson was killed, by what is unclear.

He was 31. He never got the chance to marry.

For a time, Albert carried on.

Then, growing restless, he & his family left for Eastern Oregon.

He drove his sheep overland to the Blue Mountains, children in tow.

He built a tiny cabin in the fall of 1871 — remnants below — and wintered there, praying for good fortune.

The winter was harsh. Much too harsh for sheep.

Albert again moved his family to a new claim in Morrow County.

His father Jeptha was growing sick. Though crippled with rheumatoid arthritis, he wrote Albert in the final months before his death.

These were his words.

Albert & his wife Julia Ann started anew.

With hard work, they flourished.

He ranched, farmed, and preached in nearby towns by horseback.

His ranch grew to 9,000+ acres.

He & his sons built a home; it served as a post office & stage stop.

(It still stands.)

Life was good for the pioneer family.

Our ranch had a schoolhouse that doubled as a church & community center.

Lots of dancing & music. French harps & accordions, apparently.

But there was always work to be done. They bought cattle, & designed a brand:

Albert’s sons were tough, but one stood out: Silas.

He was a storied hunter, living with the Native people for a time and speaking three of their dialects.

He had good relations w/ a local Chief, who once warned him of a coming raid.

It spared the ranch — & the family.

Silas was a colorful Methodist, his wife was not.

It caused endless strife.

He once promised her that if she held his funeral at her church, he would convince God to let him burn it down.

Eventually he did die. And she ignored his wishes.

You can read what happened next.

Curses aside, there were other, more serious troubles along the way.

A cousin once decided to take the year’s wool crop to market and then spend the proceeds on a bender of booze, gambling, and women.

It nearly broke the family.

In more modern times, a series of Wright men have taken over the ranch and raised their families like generations before.

Each have done their level best to live as good men of the land and honorable servants in their community.

And now, years later, there’s me.

Apparently I’ve caused my family a degree of pause with my lifelong interest in trouble and a loud mouth.

Naturally I ended up in the CIA, and occasionally on TV.

Jokes aside, this country has been good to me. To my family.

To generations of Americans.

We have built so much together, sacrificed so greatly to build something exceptional — wildly imperfect, yes — but truly exceptional.

And it’s under attack.

During these past few years, the Left has assaulted our country — attacked cities like Portland — with their violence, division, & hatred.

And now they attack Oregonians for daring to joke, daring to mock power.

news.yahoo.com/oregon-father-…

It’s reminded me of Ben Franklin’s response when asked what kind of country America would be.

“A Republic. If you can keep it.”

With every passing day, his words — and the sacrifices of my ancestors — play on loop in my head.

Franklin was right. It’s up to us to keep this Republic.

It’s up to me. And people like you.

The fight to keep America exceptional is happening right now.

This fight will of course be hard.

We face tyranny. Corruption. Lawlessness.

But remember: we stand on the shoulders of giants, like my ancestors & yours who got us here.

They gave us this shot at a more perfect union.

And damn right we should fight to keep it.

Let’s go!