English Audio Request

Children:
This is my birthday, December 11, 1890, I am eighty years old today. I
was born at Kings Iron Works in Sulllivan County, Tennessee, December
the 11th, 1810.
I saw the helpless Cherokee arrested and dragged from their homes. And in the chill of a drizzling rain on an October morning I saw them loaded like cattle or sheep into six hundred and forty-five wagons and started toward the West... One can never forget the sadness and solemnity of that morning. When the wagons started rolling many of the children rose to their feet and waved their little hands good-by to their mountain homes, knowing they were leaving them forever. Many of these helpless people did not have blankets and many of them had been driven from home barefooted... The sufferings of the Cherokee were awful. The trail of the exiles was a trail of death. They had to sleep in the wagons and on the ground without fire. And I have known as many as twenty-two of them to die in one night of pneumonia due to ill treatment, cold, and exposure. Among this number was the beautiful Christian wife of Chief John Ross. This noble hearted woman died a martyr to childhood, giving her only blanket for the protection of a sick child.
Children - Thus ends my promised birthday story. This December the 11th 1890.