In this, her second memoir, New Prairie Woman is Susie Rosso Wolf’s depiction of her journey from Los Angeles to the historical town of Three Forks, Montana. On these pages you will discover the grandeur of “The Last Best Place” through her writing, poetry and photography, the challenges of living in a twenty foot trailer in sub-zero temperatures and how love, perseverance, and the miracle of faith can lift a soul up from the depths of the deepest, darkest waters.
Born in Santa Monica, California, I was raised in the small bedroom community of Sunkist Park that borders Culver City, Playa del Rey, Mar Vista and Venice. I attended Venice High School, West LA Community College and California Institute of the Arts. My studies included English, English Literature, Poetry, Creative Writing, Choir, Classical Voice, Shakespeare, Musical Theater, Television and Film Acting and Art History. In 1980, I relocated to the Pacific Northwest and in 1982 I married Kurt Wolf in Corvallis, Oregon. During the course of our long journey together, I have remained devoted to not only my husband, but to my friends and family, and the arts. What defines me most is my passion for expression through art. I’m an avid reader, writer and poet.I also enjoy painting and photography. Additionally, some folks consider me a pretty good cook.
Once we parked the truck and could see the ocean, the pier, smell the salt air, Snowflake and Cricket came alive with combustible excitement. Both girls holding on to their new “boyfriend’s” hands, Uncle Kurt escorted the little beauties up to the pier with Brenda and me trying to keep up with them. Once we climbed the old boardwalk ramp up to the Carousel, my heart was flooded with memories of my father lifting me up onto my favorite white and blue horse with the beautiful pink crystal eyes and long white mane. Strapping me onto the saddle then handing me my huge cotton candy on a paper stick, I rode around and around for the ten minute ride with the pipe organ music blaring while the glorious Pacific Ocean below forcefully slammed itself up against the Santa Monica shore, then back again, and again, taunting me to swim and play in the salty foamy water. Father always knew once I was finished with my Carousel ride and my treat, that I’d be ready for a day in the water. Back then, in the 1950’s and 60’s, the beach was only scattered with a handful of people, and the pier was mostly used for local fishermen trying to bring in a day’s catch. There were a few amusement galleries, gift shops, restaurants and rides, but now, well, the pier had become so commercial. So I found myself thinking back to the day when life was simple and easy. When love was first and foremost in our lives, when attitude and judgment towards each other wasn’t permitted and didn’t exist.