Disturbing History - DH Ep:42 The Donner Party

Episode Date: November 9, 2025

In the winter of 1846–1847, eighty-seven pioneers set out with dreams of a new life in California—and found themselves trapped in the Sierra Nevada Mountains during one of the worst winters ever recorded. What began as a hopeful journey west became one of the darkest survival stories in American history.The Donner Party, as history would name them, endured starvation, relentless blizzards, and unthinkable choices that would haunt the survivors for the rest of their lives. This episode follows their story from the bright optimism of their Springfield, Illinois departure to the fatal decision that sealed their fate—the untested shortcut known as the Hastings Cutoff. We trace the chain of delays, leadership struggles, and tragic miscalculations that left the wagon train stranded just as winter closed the mountain passes. From the desperate foraging missions and failed rescue attempts to the shocking final weeks in their snowbound camps, the Donner Party’s ordeal unfolds as a testament to both human endurance and human frailty.Along the way, we meet the key figures who shaped this tragedy: George and Jacob Donner, the brothers who led the expedition; James Reed, the ambitious businessman whose faith in the shortcut proved disastrous; and the families—many with young children—who faced impossible odds.Thirty-nine would die in the mountains. The rest would emerge changed forever.We confront the most infamous chapter of the story—the acts of cannibalism born not from savagery, but from the final edge of desperation. Through historical accounts and psychological insight, we explore what happens when ordinary people are pushed beyond the limits of endurance. Beneath the horror lies a deeply human story of westward expansion and the high cost of Manifest Destiny, of courage and hubris, of chance and misfortune. The Donner Party remains a chilling reminder of how thin the line truly is between civilization and survival—and how quickly hope can turn to horror when the wilderness closes in. This is true history, true survival, and true American tragedy—a story as haunting today as it was nearly two centuries ago.

some stories were never meant to be told others were buried on purpose this podcast digs them all up disturbing history peels back the layers of the past to uncover the strange the sinister and the stories that were never supposed to survive from shadowy presidential secrets to government experiments that sound more like fiction than fact this is history they hoped you'd forget i'm brian investigator author and your guide through the dark corners of our collective memory. Each week I'll narrate some of the most chilling and little-known tales from history that will make you question everything you thought you knew. And here's the twist. Sometimes the history is disturbing to us. And sometimes, we have to disturb history itself

just to get to the truth. If you like your facts with the side of fear, if you're not afraid to pull at threads, others leave alone. You're in the right place. History isn't just written by the victim. Sometimes it's rewritten by The Disturbed. The snow fell in thick suffocating curtains

across the Sierra Nevada Mountains in December of 1846. Inside a crude cabin built against a massive boulder near what would later be called Donner Lake, a group of desperate pioneers huddled together against the cold. They had been trapped for weeks. Their food was gone. The cattle had long since been slaughtered and consumed. They had eaten the oxen, then the horses, then the dogs.

They had boiled leather hides until they became a gelatinous, barely edible paste. They had scraped bark from trees and boiled old bones until they crumbled. And now, as the storms continued to rage and the snow piled higher and higher around their makeshift shelters, they faced a choice that would haunt American history forever. In the corner of that freezing cabin, wrapped in blankets and quilts, lay the body of someone who had died days earlier. And the living, with hollow eyes and gaunt faces, understood that they had reached the absolute limits of human endurance.

What happened next in those mountains during the winter of 1846 and 47 would become one of the most infamous and horrifying chapters in the story of westward expansion. This is the story of the Donner Party. The year 1846 was a time of tremendous optimism in America. Manifest Destiny, the belief that Americans were destined to expand across the entire continent, had captured the national imagination. California, still part of Mexico, beckoned with promises of fertile land, perfect weather, and boundless opportunity.

Newspapers ran breathless accounts of California's wonders. Guidebooks painted pictures. of an earthly paradise where crops grew year-round and fortunes could be made. For families struggling in the crowded eastern states or trying to farm difficult land in the Midwest, the idea of starting fresh in California was intoxicating. The overland route to California had only been established a few years earlier, but already thousands of immigrants were making the dangerous journey west. It was into this fever of Western migration that the Donner Party was born.

The party that would eventually bear the Donner name actually began as several separate wagon trains that merged together during the journey. The core group departed from Springfield, Illinois in April of 1846. George Donner, a prosperous farmer in his early 60s, organized the expedition with his brother Jacob Donner. George had done well for himself. He was on his third marriage, this time to Tams and Donner, a remarkable woman who had worked as a teacher and was known for her. intelligence and education. George brought five daughters from his previous marriages, while Tamsan brought three young daughters of her own. Jacob Donner, George's younger brother, brought his wife Elizabeth and their seven children. The Donner brothers were experienced men,

respected in their community, and they had sold their substantial property holdings to finance this great adventure. They had money, good wagons, strong oxen, and high hopes. Another key family was headed by James Reed, a successful businessman from Springfield, who had made his fortune in various ventures, including furniture manufacturing and the railroad. Reed was ambitious, educated, and some would say arrogant. He had designed and built an enormous two-story wagon he called the Pioneer Palace car, complete with a built-in stove, sleeping quarters, and even a side entrance with steps. It was the recreational vehicle of its day, and it attracted attention.

wherever it went. Reed's wife Margaret was in poor health, and he hoped the journey to California would improve her condition. They brought their four children, along with Margaret's elderly mother, Sarah Keys. Reed also brought several hired hands, including a young woman named Eliza Williams and a teamster named Milt Elliott. The Breen family formed another major group. Patrick Breen, an Irish immigrant farmer, brought his wife Margaret and their seven children. The Breenes were Catholic, which made them a minority among the predominantly Protestant immigrants. Patrick would later keep a diary during their entrapment that would become one of the primary historical documents of the ordeal. The Murphy family was also substantial.

Levina Murphy, a widow, brought her two daughters, her five sons, and several sons-in-law and grandchildren. The Eddies, William and Eleanor, with their two young children, joined the group, as did the Keseberg family, Lewis and Philippine, with their two small children. Lewis Kesseberg was a German immigrant who spoke English with a heavy accent and had a reputation for a volatile temper. There were also single men, hired drivers, teamsters, and others who attached themselves to the wagon train for safety and companionship. In total, the group that would later be trapped in the mountains eventually numbered about

87 people, including many children. The journey began in the spring with all the optimism and excitement that characterized Western immigration. The wagons were loaded with food, supplies, tools, seeds, furniture, and treasured possessions. The immigrants believed they were bringing civilization to the wilderness. Children ran alongside the wagons, playing games and picking wildflowers. The adults talked about the new lives they would build in California. The wagon train followed the well-established route west along the Kansas. River and then up the Platte River through what is now Nebraska.

They moved slowly, averaging about 15 miles per day. The oxen had to be rested and grazed. Wagons broke down and needed repairs. Rivers had to be forded, but the mood was generally good. They met other wagon trains heading west, shared information and supplies, and felt part of a great national movement. As they traveled, the combined group that included the Donners and Reeds

merged with other wagons heading west. By the time they reached Fort Laramie and present-day Wyoming in late June, they were part of a much larger wagon train. But it was at Fort Bridger in what is now southwestern Wyoming that the Donner Party made the decision that would doom them. Throughout their journey, they had been hearing about a new route to California called the Hastings Cut-Off. Lanceford Hastings was a promoter and adventurer who had published a guidebook

called The Immigrants Guide to Oregon and California. In his book, Hastings described a new shortcut that he claimed would save immigrants 300 to 400 miles and shave weeks off the journey to California. The route would leave the established California Trail near Fort Bridger, cut south of the Great Salt Lake, cross the Salt Lake Desert, and then rejoined the main trail in what is now Nevada. Hastings promoted this route aggressively because he had land interests in California and wanted to encourage immigration.

But there was a major problem. Hastings had never actually taken wagons over the route he was promoting. He had traveled at once on horseback with a small party of men, but he had no idea whether wagons could actually make the journey. When the Donner Party reached Fort Bridger in late July, they found a letter from Hastings pinned to a board, encouraging immigrants to take his cut off. James Reed was particularly enthusiastic about the shortcut.

He had read Hastings' guidebook and believed that, time was worth the risk. Some members of the party were skeptical. They knew the established route to California worked, even though it was longer. But Reed was persuasive, and ultimately about 20 wagons decided to take the Hastings cut off. This group included the Donners, the Reeds, the Breins, the Murphys, and others. They left Fort Bridger in early August. The rest of the larger wagon train continued on the established trail and reached California safely before winter. The Hastings cut off was a disaster from the start. The route led through the Wasatch Mountains in Utah, where there was no road at all.

The immigrants had to clear brush, cut down trees, and literally build a road through the mountains as they went. It was back-breaking work that took weeks. By the time they emerged from the Wasatch Mountains and reached the Great Salt Lake, they had lost precious time, and their oxen were exhausted. Worse was to come. The crossing of the Great Salt Lake Desert nearly destroyed. the party. Hastings had described the desert crossing as about 40 miles that would take one day and one night. In reality, it was more than 80 miles of brutal, waterless terrain that took the party

nearly a week to cross. The oxen began to die or go mad from thirst. Some broke free and ran off into the desert, never to be seen again. Wagons had to be abandoned. Families lost most of their possessions. Water kegs ran dry. People began to suffer from dehydration. By the time they reached water on the other side of the salt flats, they had lost dozens of oxen and several wagons. The Hastings cutoff, which was supposed to save them time, had actually cost them about a month compared to the established trail. The mood of the party darkened, tempers flared. People began to blame each other for the decision to take the cut off. James Reed, who had been so enthusiastic about the shortcut, became a target of resentment. On October 5th, while the party was traveling through what is now Nevada,

tensions exploded into violence. An argument broke out between Reed and one of the hired Teamsters, a man named John Snyder. The details are disputed, but what happened was this. Snyder was driving one of the Murphy family wagons, and Reed was driving one of his wagons. The wagons became tangled going up a hill. Snyder began beating his exhausted oxen brutally.

Reed objected. Words were exchanged. Snyder lost his temper and began beating Reed with the butt of his bullwhip. Reed's wife Margaret tried to intervene, and Snyder struck her too. Reed pulled a knife and stabbed Snyder in what he claimed was self-defense. Snyder staggered away, bleeding heavily, and died within minutes. The death of John Snyder created a crisis. Some members of the party wanted to hang Reed immediately.

Others defended him, saying he had acted in self-defense. A trial of sorts was held. The punishment decided upon was banishment. James Reed was expelled from the wagon train and forced to ride ahead alone, without food or weapons. His family was allowed to stay with the party, cared for by Reed's loyal employee, Milt Elliot. Reed rode off into the wilderness, and his family had no idea if they would ever see him again. By late October, the Donner Party reached the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in what is now northeastern California. They were exhausted, short on supplies, and seriously behind schedule.

Other wagon trains had already crossed the mountains and were safely in California. The Donner Party should have been right behind them, but the Hastings cutoff had cost them that crucial month. On October 28th, while camped near what is now Truckee, California, the snow began to fall. At first it was just a dusting. Then it began to fall harder. Within days, several feet of snow had accumulated.

The mountain pass that led to California, now known as Donner Pass, but then simply called the pass or the gap, became impassable. The immigrants tried repeatedly to get their wagons over the pass, but the snow was too deep and the drifts too soft. The oxen floundered and became stuck. The wagon sank to their axles. Each time they tried, the weather worsened and drove them back. Finally, they had no choice but to accept the terrible truth. They were trapped on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains with winter closing in and no way forward. The party split into two camps, the larger group including the Breins, Reeds, Murphys, Eddies, Kessebergs, and others established a camp near a lake, now called Donner Lake.

They built three rough cabins against large rocks and trees for shelter. The Donner families, George and Jacob with their families, were several miles behind the main camp. They had suffered a broken axle on one of their wagons and were just, delayed trying to repair it when the snow began. They set up camp at a place now called Alder Creek, where they built crude shelters and waited for the weather to clear. In total, about 60 people were camped at the lake,

and about 21 people were at Alder Creek with the Donners. The two camps were separated by several miles of increasingly deep snow. The cabins at the lake camp were primitive structures. They were built using logs and branches, with roofs made of pine boughs, canvas, and hides. The walls had gaps that led in wind and snow. The dirt floors became muddy and then froze solid. Multiple families crowded into single cabins.

The Breen family took over one cabin that had been built by previous immigrants. Another cabin housed the reeds, eddies, and others. A third cabin was shared by the Murphy and Kesseberg families. At Alder Creek, the Donners built shelters that were even more primitive, essentially lean-toes and tents reinforced with logs and branches. As November progressed and the snow continued to fall, the reality of their situation became clear. They were stuck until spring and their food supplies were dangerously low. At first, the immigrants tried to remain optimistic.

They butchered the remaining cattle and oxen, hanging the meat to freeze in the cold air. They rationed their flour and other supplies. They hoped the storms would pass and they could attempt to cross the pass or that a rescue party would come from California. But the storms continued relentlessly. The snow fell and fell and fell. Stay tuned for more disturbing history. We'll be back after these messages. By mid-November, the snow was several feet deep.

By December, it was 10 feet deep in places. The drifts piled up against the cabins until the structures were nearly buried. People had to cut steps in the snow to climb out of the cabins. The weight of the snow collapsed some of the roofs. The cold was intense, penetrating, inescapable. At night, temperatures dropped well below freezing. During the day, it often snowed. The wind howled down from the mountain peaks and through the canyons,

driving snow through every gap in the cabin's walls. The food situation deteriorated rapidly. The butchered cattle lasted only a few weeks. The immigrants tried to hunt, but the snow was too deep and game was scarce. They set traps for small animals but caught almost nothing. They began eating anything remotely digestible. They boiled the oxhide rugs that had been used as roofs or floor coverings. Oxhide, when boiled for hours, becomes a glutinous, jelly-like substance that has almost no nutritional value,

but at least fills the stomach temporarily. They scraped and boiled old bones that had been gnawed clean weeks earlier, hoping to extract some fragment of nutrition. They peeled bark from trees and tried to make it edible. Children cried constantly from hunger. Adults became listless and weak. People began to die. Bayliss Williams, one of James Reed's hired hands, was the first to die at the lake camp on December 15th.

He had been ill and malnourished. His body was buried in the snow. An old man named Hardcoop, a Belgian who had been traveling with the Keseberg family, had actually died earlier on the trail before they reached the mountains. abandoned when he could no longer keep up. The deaths continued. At Alder Creek, the situation was equally dire.

Jacob Donner had been injured during the journey, and his health was failing. Samuel Shoemaker, one of the hired teamsters, died. The bodies were placed in the snow and covered as best as possible, though the living were too weak to dig proper graves. By mid-December, a group of the strongest members decided they had to try to escape on foot and bring back help. Fifteen people volunteered for what they called the Forlorn Hope Expedition. The group included ten men and five women.

They included William Eddy, a vigorous man in his 20s, who was desperate to save his young wife and children. There was Sarah Fosdick, Harriet Pike, Amanda McCutcheon, Sarah Murphy, and Marianne Graves, all young women. The men included Patrick Dolan, Charles Stanton, Charles Berger, and several of the young Murphy boys in hired hands. They fashioned crude snow shoes from oxbows and rawhide strips. On December 16th, in a break in the weather, the Forlorn Hope Party set out to cross the mountains on foot. What happened to the Forlorn Hope expedition over the next month is one of the most harrowing survival stories ever recorded. They carried almost no food, expecting the journey to take about six days. Instead, they wandered in the mountains for over 30 days.

The snow was so deep and soft that even with snow shoes, They sank in with every step. They had no trail to follow and became disoriented in the endless white landscape. After just a few days, their food was gone. They tried to rest but had no shelter. They huddled together at night trying to share body heat. But the cold was devastating. After about a week, they were all starving and some were showing signs of severe frostbite and exposure.

On Christmas Day, trapped in a blizzard without food or shelter, Patrick Dolan became delirious and died. died. Then others began to die. By the time it was over, nine of the 15 members of the forlorn hope would be dead. And here in the snowy wilderness far from any other human beings, the survivors of the forlorn hope crossed the line that has fascinated and horrified people ever since. They decided to cannibalize the dead. It was not an easy decision. They discussed it openly. Some refused at first, but the alternative was death for everyone. They butchered the frozen bodies of their dead companions, roasted the flesh over a fire, and ate it.

William Eddy later said that he could not bring himself to eat the flesh of any of his friends and only consumed the flesh of people he did not know well. Others made similar distinctions, trying to maintain some fragment of humanity in the midst of the ultimate taboo. But they ate. They had no choice. The Forlorn Hope Party struggled through the mountains for weeks. They became lost repeatedly. More people died. Some went mad. There's a particularly disturbing story, later disputed but reported by some survivors, that one of the men, Lewis Keseberg's friend, suggested they should kill the two Native American guides who had joined them from Sutter's Fort to save everyone else. This idea was reportedly rejected, but the guides, apparently overhearing the conversation,

fled into the wilderness and were never seen again. The survivors continued to cannibalize those who died. By the time they finally staggered out of the mountains in mid-January and reached a ranch settlement in the Sacramento Valley, only seven people remained alive. They were emaciated, frostbitten, traumatized beyond comprehension. But they were alive, and they brought new news of the trapped party still in the mountains. Back at the lake camp in Alder Creek, the situation had become apocalyptic. More people died almost weekly. The survivors were too weak to do anything but huddle in their freezing cabins.

The snow was now so deep that it covered the cabins completely. People lived in semi-darkness, in spaces carved out under the snow. They burned furniture and parts of the cabins themselves for fuel. The smell inside the cabins was unbearable. a mixture of unwashed bodies, smoke, and death. Children cried for food. Adults stared at nothing with hollow eyes. At Alder Creek, Jacob Donner died in December.

George Donner had injured his hand months earlier, and the wound had become badly infected. He was slowly dying, growing weaker each day. His wife, Tamsen, cared for him devotedly, but there was little she could do. And then, inevitably, the same terrible decision faced by the forlorn hope, confronted those trapped in the camps. When someone died, their body was placed in the snow.

But the living were starving. In late December and early January, someone, it's not clear who, first broached the unspeakable. They could eat the dead. The decision was not made all at once by everyone. Different families and individuals made their own choices at different times. Some refused absolutely, even as they starved. Others, driven by death, desperation and the primal instinct to survive, decided that the dead no longer needed their bodies, but the living needed to live. The bodies of those who had died were butchered. The flesh was carefully removed, roasted, and consumed. Survivors later testified that people tried not to eat their own relatives. Parents would not eat their own children. The breans, who kept some of

their Catholicism, even in extremists, would not eat on Fridays as a way of maintaining their humanity. But they ate, they all ate, or at least most of them did, because the alternative was death. This is the part of the Donner Party story that has captured morbid fascination for over 170 years, the cannibalism. But it's important to understand the context. These were not monsters. They were ordinary people with families who found themselves in an extraordinary and horrific situation. They had not chosen this. They had made a bad decision to take a the Hastings cut off, but thousands of immigrants took risks heading west. The Donner Party was just unlucky. The early snow, the trapped location, the compounding problems, all conspired to put

them in an impossible situation. And when faced with the choice between eating the dead or dying themselves, most chose to live. It's easy to judge from the comfort of the modern world, where food is abundant and survival is rarely in question. But in that frozen hell in the Sierra Nevada in the winter of 1846 and 47. The moral absolutes that govern normal life simply broke down. The survivors would carry the psychological scars of what they had done for the rest of their lives. Many never spoke publicly about the cannibalism. Some denied it happened, even though the evidence was undeniable. They were ashamed, traumatized, and haunted by memories that no human being should have to carry. When the seven survivors of the

Forlorn Hope Expedition reached the Sacramento Valley in mid-January and told their story. It electrified the small community of American settlers in California. A rescue operation was quickly organized. On February 5th, the first relief party set out from Sutter's Fort, heading into the mountains. The relief party consisted of seven men, including one of the forlorn hope survivors, who volunteered to guide the rescuers back. They carried packs loaded with food and supplies. They knew they were heading into disaster, but they had no idea of the full horror that awaited them.

The journey into the mountains was incredibly difficult. The snow was still incredibly deep, and the rescuers had to break trail the entire way. It took them nearly two weeks to reach the lake camp. When the first relief party arrived at the lake camp on February 19th, what they found shocked them, even though they had been warned. The cabins were almost completely buried in snow. The rescuers could barely find them. When they finally located the structures and called down into them,

skeletal figures emerged from below the snow. The survivors were emaciated almost beyond recognition. Their faces gaunt. Their bodies wasted. Children looked like old people. Adults looked like corpses. The rescuers distributed food carefully, knowing that people who had been starving

could not eat too much too quickly without becoming sick. They assessed the situation. situation and made a terrible decision. They could not take everyone out. The snow was too deep, the journey too difficult. They would have to take only those who were strong enough to walk and leave the weakest behind with promises that another rescue party would come soon. This created agonizing choices. Some families were split up. Some people begged to be taken but were judged too weak to survive the journey. In the end, the first relief party took 23 people out of the mountains, mostly children and younger adults who still had some strength. They left behind about

31 people at the lake camp and Alder Creek. Among those who left was Margaret Reed and most of her children, although her youngest daughter, Patty Reed initially stayed behind and had to be carried out by a rescuer on a second trip into the camps. The first relief party struggled back down the mountains with their refugees. It was an incredibly difficult journey. Some of the survivors, especially the children, had to be carried much of the way. They ran short of food themselves and had to cash supplies along the trail. But they made it out, and the survivors were brought to safety in the Sacramento Valley. Their stories of what had happened in the mountains spread quickly. The public was horrified and fascinated. Newspapers began publishing

accounts. The cannibalism was openly discussed. Some accounts were sympathetic, understanding that the survivors had no choice. Others were sensationalistic and judgmental. Meanwhile, a second relief party was being organized to rescue those still trapped. This party was led by James Reed, who had miraculously survived his banishment and made it to California months earlier. When Reed heard about the trapped party and learned that his family was still in the mountains, he volunteered immediately to lead a rescue mission. The second relief party set out on March 1st with 17 men. They reached the lake camp on March 3rd. What Reed found devastated him. His wife and most of his children had been taken out by the first relief, but conditions in the camps had deteriorated even

further. More people had died. The survivors were even weaker. At Alder Creek, Reed found the Donner families in desperate condition. George Donner was barely alive, his infected hand gangrenous, his body wasting away. His wife, Tamsin was caring for him. but was herself weak from starvation. Jacob Donner had already died and his widow Elizabeth was in poor health. Reed and his party again had to make agonizing decisions about who could be taken out. They took 17 more people, including several of the Donner children. But they had to leave some behind.

George Donner was too weak to travel. Tams and Donner refused to leave her dying husband, even though Reed urged her to save herself and come with him. Several small children who were too weak to walk were also left behind, along with a few adults who were caring for them or were too ill to travel. The second relief party's journey out of the mountains became a nightmare. They were caught in a severe storm. The snow fell so heavily that they became trapped themselves. Their food ran out.

They were forced to camp in the snow with no shelter, huddling around fires that kept melting down into the deep snow. Several people died during the storm, including both adults and children. There are accounts that during this horrific storm, with people dying around them, some of the rescuers and survivors again resorted to cannibalism to stay alive. A four-year-old boy named Isaac Donner, one of George and Tamsin's sons, died during the storm. It took the second relief party days to struggle out of the mountains, and by the time they reached safety, they were as traumatized as those they had rescued. A third relief party set out in mid-March.

This group included William Eddy, who had survived the Forlorn Hope Expedition and was now returning to try to rescue his wife and children. But when the third relief reached the camps, Eddie discovered that his wife Eleanor had died, as had both of his children. The grief was unbearable. The third relief party found a handful of survivors still alive at the lake camp, including Lewis Kesseberg, who was alone in one of the cabins. Stay tuned for more disturbing history.

We'll be back after these messages. At Alder Creek, they found George Donner had died, and Tams and Donner had disappeared. Her fate remains one of the mysteries of the tragedy. It's believed she tried to walk out of the mountains alone to reach her daughters who had been taken out by previous relief parties. But she never made it. Her body was never found.

The third relief party took out four more survivors, survivors. Finally, in April, a fourth relief party reached the camps to salvage property and check for any remaining survivors. They found Lewis Keseberg alone at the lake camp. Keseberg's survival had come at a terrible cost. There was evidence that he had cannibalized multiple bodies, including some that had already been dead when he arrived at them. Some accused him of murder, suggesting he had killed Tams and Donner and others for their flesh and the money they carried. Keseberg vehemently denied these actions. for the rest of his life. He claimed he had only eaten those who had already died and that he had

done so only to survive. The truth will never be known for certain, but Keseberg became the scapegoat for all the horror of the Donner Party. He was vilified in the press and by the public as a monster and a murderer. Whether this was fair or not is debatable. Keseberg was certainly guilty of cannibalism, as were many others in the party, but he may simply have been the last one left alive in the most desperate circumstances imaginable. The fourth relief party brought Keseberg out of the mountains, and the Donner Party ordeal was finally over. Of the 87 people who had become trapped in the Sierra Nevada in the winter of 1846 and 47, only 48 survived. 39 people died, including entire families. The Donner family lost many members. George and Jacob

Donner both died, as did Thames and Donner and several of their children. The Eddie family was devastated, with William Eddy losing his wife and both children. The Murphy family lost many members. Whole families were destroyed. The survivors were physically broken, psychologically traumatized, and faced an uncertain future in California. The aftermath of the Donner Party tragedy was complex and long-lasting. The survivors scattered throughout California. Some tried to rebuild their lives in obscurity. Others became public figures, their stories told and retold in newspapers, books, and lectures.

James Reed went on to have a successful life in California. He and his wife Margaret and their surviving children prospered. Reed rarely spoke publicly about the ordeal, but did defend the actions of the survivors in a few published letters, arguing that they had done what was necessary to survive. Some of the children who survived, including the Reed daughters, grew up to have relatively normal lives, though they carried the trauma with them always. Virginia Reed, James Reed's eldest daughter, later wrote one of the most famous accounts

of the ordeal in a letter that was widely published. Her letter ended with the famous advice to future immigrants. Never take no cutoffs and hurry along as fast as you can. Lewis Keseberg's life after the Donner Party was tragic. He was widely believed to be a murderer and cannibal, and he was shunned by society. He tried various businesses in California, but faced constant prejudice and suspicion. He sued for libel against some of those who accused him of murder, but lost the case. He lived into old age, always maintaining his innocence of murder, while admitting he had cannibalized the dead to survive.

Patrick Breen, who had kept a diary during the entrapment, provided valuable historical documentation of the day-to-day reality. of the camps. His family survived largely intact, which was remarkable given the overall death toll. The Breen family went on to prosper in California. The story of the Donner Party quickly became one of the most famous episodes in American history. It was told and retold, often sensationalized. The cannibalism became the focus,

overshadowing the human story of regular people caught in an impossible situation. Books were written. plays were staged and eventually movies were made. The story touched something deep in the American psyche. It was a story about the costs of westward expansion, about the thin line between civilization and savagery, about how quickly the social order can break down when survival is at stake. It was also a cautionary tale about bad decisions,

about hubris, about the dangers of taking shortcuts, and about the unforgiving nature of the wilderness. historians have endlessly analyzed what went wrong. The decision to take the Hastings cutoff is obviously the key factor. If the Donner Party had stayed on the established California Trail, they would have reached California weeks earlier and avoided the mountains before the heavy snows. But the decision to take the cutoff was not as crazy as it might seem in hindsight. Lanceford Hastings was promoting it as a legitimate route,

and several other groups had attempted it before the Donner Party, though with mixed results. The tragedy was that the party encountered an unusually early and heavy winter in the Sierra Nevada. If the snow had held off for even two more weeks, they would have made it through. The compounding

delays caused by the difficult terrain in the Wasatch Mountains and the disaster in the Great Salt Lake Desert meant they arrived at the Sierra Nevada at exactly the wrong time. There were also leadership and organizational issues. The Donner Party did not have a strong, unified

leadership structure. Different families made their own decisions, and there were personality conflicts and resentments. The banishment of James Reed, who was one of the more capable and educated men in the party, removed a potential leader at a critical time. The decision-making once they became trapped was also questionable. Some historians argue they should have made more aggressive attempts to escape earlier before the snow became impossible. Others suggest they should have sent out a relief party much earlier or should have tried to build better shelters. But these criticisms come with the benefit of hindsight. The people trapped in the mountains were ordinary immigrants, not survival experts. They made decisions based on the information and capabilities they had at

the time. The cannibalism, which is the aspect of the story that has generated the most attention, needs to be understood in its proper context. Survival cannibalism has occurred in many desperate situations throughout history. It happened to the Andes Plain Crash survivors in 1972. It happened during famines and sieges throughout world history. It happened to sailors shipwrecked at sea. The Donner Party was not unique in resorting to cannibalism, though their story became the most famous American example. What's significant is not that they ate the dead, but that they were put in a situation where that became their only option. The real tragedy of the Donner Party is not the cannibalism itself, but the series of bad decisions, bad luck, and bad timing that

led to that impossible situation. Modern archaeology and forensic analysis of the Donner Party sites has provided additional insights. Excavations at the camp sites have uncovered artifacts, bones, and evidence of the camp's layout. Analysis of the human remains has confirmed the evidence of butchering and cannibalism. It has also revealed the severity of the starvation. The survivors lost massive amounts of body weight. Children stopped growing. Diseases related to malnutrition were rampant. The physical suffering was matched by the psychological suffering. Survivors reported nightmares, flashbacks, and what we would now recognize as post-traumatic stress disorder. Many never fully recovered emotionally from what

they had experienced and witnessed. The Donner Party story has been retold so many times, that it has taken on an almost mythic quality in American culture. Donner Pass is now a major highway route, and the area is dotted with historical markers and monuments. The Donner Memorial State Park near the original campsite includes a museum and educational exhibits about the tragedy. The story is taught in schools as part of American history curriculum. It has been the subject of numerous books, both historical and fictional.

Documentaries and television programs have examined, it from every angle. The name Donner has become synonymous with cannibalism and survival horror in American popular culture. References to the Donner Party appear in everything from comedy sketches to serious literature. But beyond the sensationalism and the dark fascination, the story of the Donner Party is fundamentally a human story. It's about families who wanted a better life and took a chance on a journey west. It's about how quickly things can go wrong and how human beings respond to unimaginable hardship. It's about moral choices made under duress and the weight of survival at any cost. It's about the randomness of fate. If the snow had held off, if they had

stayed on the main trail, if they had been faster through the Wasatch Mountains. History is full of these moments where small decisions cascade into major consequences. The survivors of the Donner Party carried their experiences with them for the rest of their lives. Some spoke about it. Some never did. Some tried to set the record straight. Others wanted to forget. But all of them were marked by what happened in those mountains. They had crossed a line that most human beings never have to cross.

They had eaten human flesh to survive. They had watched their loved ones die. They had lived in conditions of deprivation and suffering that are hard for us to even imagine today. And yet, 48 of them survived. They went on to live lives in California. to have families, to build communities. They were not monsters.

They were survivors. And that perhaps is the most important thing to remember about the Donner Party. In the end, they were just people trying to survive, and nearly half of them did, carrying with them one of the darkest and most haunting stories in American history. The winter of 1846 and 47 in the Sierra Nevada Mountains is long over. The snow that trapped the Donner Party has melted and fallen, and melted again thousands of times.

The crude cabins are long gone, rotted away or torn apart by souvenir hunters in the decades that followed. The survivors lived out their lives and died, taking their firsthand memories with them. But the story remains, passed down through generations, a reminder of both the resilience

and the fragility of human beings, of the high cost of bad decisions and bad luck, and of the thin line between survival and dead. death. The Donner Party. A journey that began in optimism and ended in horror. A cautionary tale. A survival story. A human tragedy. Their names and their story are carved into American history, as permanent as the mountains that witnessed their suffering. Your skin I've got a taste for you

You're high I'm seeking Watch out I'm coming for You You You better run now moon is out now

you're gonna hear my house ho ho ho ho oh blood skies red eyes can't give love for me my dream is your nightmare you'll see Be coming for you Come in for you

You're coming for you Ooh You better run now Ooh The room is out now Ooh You're gonna hear my heart Oh

Oh Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh You better Run now Ooh

For the morning is out now Ooh You're gonna hear my hell Oh Oh Thank you. Thank you.