The Way I Heard It with Mike Rowe - 22: In Laws on the Outs

Episode Date: June 21, 2016

Their escape from an overbearing family really put them on the map.

The ocean moves us, surfing a wave or savoring the view. The ocean delights us as playful otters restore coastal cowpores. The ocean connects us. Visit Monterey Bay Aquarium.org slash connects. This is the way I heard it. The Millers just knew that Loring Johnson would be a perfect son-in-law. Bright, handsome, ambitious, and best of all, Methodist. So when Loring proposed to their oldest daughter, the Millers rejoiced.

because they knew they were getting more than a son-in-law. They were getting a Johnson. T.C. Schnebley, on the other hand, was another story. Like Loring Johnson, Schnebley had fallen for one of the Miller girls, but unlike Johnson, Schnebley was not the kind of son-in-law, Phil and Amanda had in mind. You simply can't marry a Schnebley, said Amanda. He's a Presbyterian. Indeed, said Philip. What will the townspeople say? Turns out the townspeople said quite a bit and none of it was very nice. Philip Miller's getting 100 son-in-laws, they said. Loring is a one and Schnebly a double zero.

Nowadays, true love might be non-denominational, but back in 1901, the Methodists of Goren, Missouri, found themselves surrounded by encroaching Lutherans, Baptist, Episcopalians, and Presbyterians. So even though their daughter said, I do, the Miller. said, we don't, and young Mr. Schnebley found himself at odds with his new in-laws. For nearly four years, he tried to win them over, but nothing could assuage their disappointment or temper their disdain. Ultimately, Amanda Miller shunned her own daughter, and the pain and strife became too much to bear. With two small children, the Schnebleys yearned for a more peaceful existence. They dreamed of a quiet place, a place of solitude,

and beauty. But where? One day, T.C. received a letter from his brother, raving about a far-away place of unsurpassed tranquility. Ellsworth Schnebley was a frail man and required a climate that suited his weak constitution. Apparently, he'd found it in a lush, verdant canyon in the high desert, with clean air and a fast-running mountain brook, surrounded by breathtaking beutes and monoliths. The Schnebleys fled Gorin with all due speed. After connecting with Ellsworth, T.C. homesteaded 80 pristine acres and quickly fell in love. There was something magnetic about the place, something magical about the way the canyon glowed in the evening sun.

The Schnebleys built a stone house nestled in a grove of cottonwoods, tucked into the gentle bend of a winding creek. And that's not all they built. You see, the Schnebleys believe that others would be equally enchanted by the strange beauty of their new surroundings. So T.C. built a 10-room way station in the middle of nowhere. His neighbors might have called him crazy, but T.C. didn't have any. So he built a road that ran all the way to Flagstaff. And sure enough, the people started to come. They came for dinner and stayed for the night,

luxuriant in the tranquility of the quiet canyon and marveling at the serenity. One day, it occurred to T.C. that his guests might extend their stay. day if they could send and receive mail from his little bed and breakfast. So TC applied for a post office permit. After many weeks, TC got a response from Washington, D.C. Dear Mr. Schnebley, we're happy to help you set up a post office in your home, but regret to inform you that Schnebley station is too large to fit in the cancellation stamp. Please select a shorter name for consideration. T.C. read the letter to Ellsworth. His brother said, why not name the the post office after your wife. T.C. turned to his wife and said, how would you like a post office

named after you, dear? Mrs. Schnebley smiled, as T.C. wrote her first name into the space provided, and a few weeks later, the tiny desert community and the middle of nowhere had its very own post office, named after the wife of Theodore Carlton Schnebley, a young woman ostracized by her own mother and driven from her home by the kind of discord and strife that can only result from marrying a presbyterian. It's ironic because the town that eventually grew up around Schnebley's little bed and breakfast would adopt that very same name, a name now synonymous with tranquility, peace, and spiritual healing. It's enough to make you wonder, if the U.S. Post Office had used a smaller font back in 1902, would the people be traveling from all over the world?

world to experience the strange and abiding peace of Schnebley station? Or if the Millers had welcomed T.C. into their family all those years ago, would people today be talking about the mystical wonders of magnetic vortexes that still surround the Schnebley home? We'll never know for sure, because today those who seek enlightenment and the metaphysical glow of those now famous red rocks do so in a town whose name was concocted by a mother who pulled six letters from thin air and gave them to a daughter she would ultimately disown. A daughter named Sedona. Oh, and one more thing. On the subject of irony, remember Loring Johnson, the perfect son-in-law who pleased the Millers with every word indeed? Yeah, he went to Leavenworth. The details of his incarceration are inconsequential, but he died in custody,

bringing great shame to Miller's, Methodists, and Johnson's everywhere. And that's the way I heard it. If you work in University Maintenance, Granger considers you an MVP because your playbook ensures your arena is always ready for tip-off, and Granger is your trusted partner. Offering the products you need all in one place, from HVAC and plumbing supplies to lighting and more, and all delivered with plenty of time left on the clock,

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