Actually starts in TEXAS ...

 

​This didn’t start with a business plan.
It started with my Great-Great-Grandmother, a woman who saw a need… and refused to ignore it.

In 1910, Clemence “Clem” Hinds and his wife, Margrett “Madge" Blair Esplin, were married in California and began building a life the hard way — following oil fields across the country, settling wherever work could be found. By 1926, they landed in the Texas Panhandle during the Borger boom, raising eight children in tents, hauling water by the barrel, and making do with whatever they had.

Nothing about their life was easy.
And nothing was ever wasted.

Madge was the kind of woman who could take what others threw away and turn it into something useful — clothing from scraps, meals from almost nothing, comfort out of hard times. During the Depression, she baked and sold what she could, doing whatever it took to keep her family going.

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But what defined her… was what she did for others.

In 1949, after hearing a call for help, she began what became known as her “mission to the Sioux.” What started small grew into something extraordinary — thousands of garments, blankets, and supplies sent to families in need. Her home filled from front to back with boxes, each one packed by hand.

She never claimed to do it alone.

“I have done nothing without the help of others.”

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But when she learned there was something missing — something people couldn’t live without — she didn’t wait.

There was no soap.

So she made it.

No training. No instructions. Just a stove, some grease, and the determination to figure it out.

Her first attempt was a failure.
Burned pans. Burned hand. No soap.

She went to bed ready to quit.

By morning… everything had changed.

What she found was the whitest, cleanest soap she had ever seen — that she then cut into over 7 oz. bars. That first batch turned into hundreds more. She rendered grease, reused scraps, even melted down leftover pieces to make new bars.

Nothing was wasted.
Everything had a purpose.

From that first production alone, she sent over 300 bars of soap — and she kept going.

Because it was never about the soap.

It was about people.

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Over the years, her work reached thousands. She made garments by the hundreds, then the thousands. She answered every need she could — clothing, blankets, and essentials for children and babies — giving her time freely, with humility and quiet determination.

Her impact did not go unnoticed.

She was named a Texas Ambassador of Goodwill for her humanitarian work.
She was honored by the Sioux people — made an honorary member of the tribe, known as the “Sister of the Sioux,” and given one of the greatest honors that can be bestowed upon an outsider.

And to some…

She was known by another name.

Winona.

A woman of the wind.
A quiet force on the plains.
A giver, a maker, and a provider for those who needed it most.

She wasn’t known for what she had.

She was known for what she gave.

“As long as there are children in need… I shall be working for them.”

She built a life on that belief — raising eight children, celebrating fifty years of marriage, and leaving behind a legacy that didn’t end with her.

Because some things don’t.

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That kind of life doesn’t come from convenience.
It comes from grit. From humility. From doing what needs to be done — even when you don’t know how yet.

That’s where Rocky Mountain Soap Works comes from.

Not from a lab.
Not from a trend.
But from a woman who figured it out the hard way… and kept going anyway.

That legacy didn’t end with her.

Generations later, that same mindset — use what you have, make what you need, and take care of people along the way — is what led to the hands that make these bars today.

Not because it was planned.
But because some things get passed down whether you realize it or not.

Same grit.
Same purpose.
Same belief that if something needs to be done… you do it.

We’re not starting something new.

We’re continuing what she started.

 

              ~ LaSabrea Blair Cherokee - Rocky Mountain Soap Works