pages 69-75

I’ll have to admit though, as we looked back once more at our home and as we boarded the trolley for that last trip to Norfolk, there were tears in our eyes. Mother was dabbing at hers quite frequently for she was taking it a bit hard. My brother and wife, Ida, and baby had spent a few days with her relatives before leaving. In Norfolk they joined us at the train depot just before take off time. There was much waving and good-byes, as the conductor called out “all aboard,” from the folks who had gathered to see us off., “Well, it’s Westward we are bound,” my father said after we were all seated. Mother looked up and smiled a bit but you could still see a wee trace of a tear there, when the train lurched and pulled out from the big station. Finally at last we were on our way to a country and its customs strange to us.
The trip had been wonderful and so far I was enjoying it, and I think the others were also. Soon we were in rolling country and I kept thinking it may, not be long until I would be seeing those beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains which I had dreamed of so much. Finally pulling into Richmond, Virginia, the capitol, and here we changed trains. I’ll never forget those long steep hills right in the city of Richmond. We walked up and down that windy March day in the year of nineteen hundred and nine. While waiting we went to a cafe for lunch and then returned to the depot in time to hear the man call out our train. Picking up our suitcases, we were once more seated in the Pullman car. When the conductor began calling all aboard for points West and mentioned the towns by name, I knew then we would soon be off again.
The whistle blew and the bell started clanging and the train was rolling out of the depot. Then the conductor came down the isle calling, “tickets, have your tickets ready.” I was at home again, in my thoughts, on the school trolley. How familiar were those words. I could see myself getting my school ticket book out and handing it to the trolley conductor. He would tear out the required tickets and I hand it back to me and for a moment I was dreaming amidst all of this.
I was wondering about the old crowd that rode the school trolley and who eddy would be saving a seat for and who Maggie would pick for a pal, who Ethel would confide in and who would take my place reciting the long poems at church affairs. I was always the one picked because I memorized them so easily. Would the little girl like my pony I had left behind as well as I did? Would she treat him nice and give him a lump of sugar before she took him out for a canter? Would she see that he was fed well as I did for him. My cat Boots I had rescued from a watery grave out of a sack in Julian’s Creek - would
the folks that bought the place see that he had his saucer of milk each day? Would the little red squirrels that chattered so and seemed to fly from limb to limb miss my calling and talking as I entered their domain and rode among them or sat quietly listening to the whispering of the pine trees sighing from the wind with their sweet scented pine needles. I was remembering too the little cottontail rabbits that scurried by and would sometimes sit up on their hind legs to see just who was coming and the birds singing sweetly among the pine boughs. I was leaving all this behind. Maybe the West would be better.
Opening my pocketbook, I found Frank’s last letter, unopened and unread. Leaning my head back against the seat I began to read. He summed it up this way. “Wherever you go, I wonder if you will ever be able to entirely forget what you are leaving behind?” “No,” I thought to myself, for I was already remembering and would always remember for they were precious years, childhood days that leave an imprint on one’s memory. I must have dozed off when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Mama said, “we are going to have dinner now.” About that time the porter came through the car calling, “dinner, dinner, now being served in the dining car.” We made our way there and waited to be seated. My brother and wife had to have the porter get them some milk for the baby. Ida nursed the baby but never had enough so gave her the bottle to help out.
That night was the first time I had slept on a train. I happened to get the lower berth and my sister the upper. I guess I was tired for I only gazed out for awhile at the lights and things that could be seen that moonlight night as the train sped past. The bed was very comfortable and in a short while I was fast asleep.
I awakened and rose early the next morning. I had that habit from having to be at the station on time for the school trolley. I dressed and went to the dressing room to wash my face and comb my hair. Returning to my berth I found the porter already making some of the beds. My sister had passed me on the way as I was coming back. “Good morning, Miss.” He said. “If you’ll wait a bit I’ll have that berth made up so you can have your seat.” I sat in one just across the way. As he finished, my sister came back. We both sat down together and she proceeded to answer some letters she had failed to do before leaving. We talked some at the same time.
For she was the quiet one about going West. At last she brought out her thoughts on the matter saying, “do you think this was a good idea, going West?” “Well,” I said, “I hope so but right now we haven’t gotten far enough away to know.” She thought again and looking out the window said, “I don’t think it is.” I said, “let’s cross that bridge when we really get to Montana.”
About then folks began moving out to the dining car as the porter went through announcing breakfast was ready. I was feeling refreshed and fine after my good night’s rest and breakfast. My sister seemed to be a bit blue and unhappy as though she were leaving something she would lose forever. She read and re-read Sidney’s last letter and would write a little each time she read parts of it. Feeling she wanted to be alone, I slipped out into another seat. “We would not change cars any more until we got to Chicago,” I said to my father and mother who were sitting right behind me. “That’s what the conductor said,” father replied. Someone had left a magazine in the seat so I picked it up and busied myself with looking through its pages. I found an interesting story and read in between looking out of the window at scenes, as we went by.
We did not have to change trains in Chicago as we thought. Instead, ours or the main coaches of the train were backed’ onto a siding and another engine hooked on and took off. I guess they did that way because it was late and a lot of pullman travelers had retired for the night. My folks said we’d better wait. Finally the conductor came in and said passengers in the pullmans would not change trains. The porter came and fixed our berths for us. So we were in bed when the other train backed up and hooked on. With a jolt, a jerk, a bell ringing and whistle blowing we were off once again, Westward bound.
That was too much noise for me to sleep. So I gazed out of the window at the railyard and at what I thought was snow proved to be right for it was snowing against the window and right then it seemed much colder. In fact it was for we were farther west and had left the
sunny south. Flowers were blooming there and people were putting in gardens when we left. In fact, the people that bought our place were wanting to get moved in as soon as they could so they could get a garden in. Anyway I was enjoying the trip and was still enthused about it all. Yes, we knew it would be colder, for Havre, Montana on the Milk River was pretty close to the Canadian line.

Somehow I wasn’t sleepy that night so I turned my little light on in the berth and wrote several cards. I can still hear the clack to clack of the rails or wheels on rails, whatever it was, as I sat there in the still hours of the night. I could hear people shoring and once in awhile someone would get out to go to the restroom. I would hear them brush my curtain as they went by. My sister leaned over from the top berth and wanted to know what I was doing. Said she couldn’t sleep either but somewhere between there and morning I fell asleep. I must have slep pretty soundly for mama reached in and shook me and said get up. Later we all went to breakfast.
And when we got to Saint Paul, Minnesota, we really did have to change trains and my was it cold! Snow every place and as we walked from the train to the depot you could see our breath like a steam engine. However the wait wasn’t too long before they started calling out our train and on what track it was and the cities it went through.
Father said come on let’s get up to the gate before the crowd gets ahead of us. So we picked up our suitcases and started. Seeing we had made a start caused all of them to get in line. The conductor was saying, “tickets, show your tickets,” as we passed through the gate.
One reason we changed trains there was we had to change to another railroad. The bunch was crowding in on my mother, being a little short. Father took her arm and too a young man stepped up and took her arm to assist her on, out of the crowd. Finally in and seated. This young man, a nice looking blond, sat just across from me. After the train pulled out he asked if he might sit with me. I smiled and nodded and he sat down. Said he was from Cut Bank, Montana, and had been in St. Paul, Minnesota, visiting some of his folks. He had a couple of magazines and we looked at them and talked. Finally he got around to asking me where I was from. I said the “sunny south lands” and told him where we were going. I said I had a married sister living out there. Well he went on, “you’ll find this a much different country and much colder than Virginia.” I replied by saying I had already found that out. I looked back and noticed another young man had also asked to sit by my sister and they seemed to be enjoying one another’s company and the trip, too.
Here the train sped on through the snowy country side and every mile seemed to be colder, when we’d stop at cities and places where we could look outside or step off of the train for a minute or two we soon got into the Dakotas, that is North and South Dakota, it was much colder still. I then began to wonder what Montana would be like as I looked out over those vast plains or prairie country. Sometimes one could see nothing for miles, only snow and little villages or small towns and cities along the railroad. Yet, there were people trying to make a living out there. Of course, that was in 1909. Before we were through the Dakotas, we got into a raging blizzard and there were snowplows along the tracks to keep them clean with crews of men to man them. They also used shovels. I was glad when we got out of the Dakotas and into Montana. It was night time though when we crossed the line so I thought we were still in the Dakotas from the vastness of the plains that stretched out as far as your eyes could see. When finally the conductor came through the train and announced we were now traveling in the state of Montana. I began to gaze out into the distance. A feeling of loneliness crept over me. Is this what we are coming to? Our home loomed up before me and all the things we had left behind, lovely home, trees, crops and ‘things worthwhile. As I thought, a voice said, “may I sit with you again?” I looked up and nodded. There was the same young man. He said, “I want to tell you this is the worst part of Montana. You may not like any of it for awhile. You see, I grew up out here but my folks were easterners. I remember how homesick mother used to get to return to our old home in the East. Finally after many years father took her back. That one trip was enough. She never wanted to go again after that. She exclaimed on her return, the west is mine. I am a part of it. I never want to return again to the East. Why, the very air you breathe out here makes one feel alive and ready to do things.” he finished.
Neither of us had asked the other’s name until just about time for him to get off at his station. Finally he said, “I am going to be leaving you pretty soon and I thought I’d give you my address.” .He handed me a card with his name printed on it and said, I would like yours in return. We might like to write to each other and I would be interested in knowing if you like Montana.” I hastily wrote mine on a card from my purse and handed it to him while gazing at the name on the card he had given me. I said, “so James is your first name?” “Yes,” he said, “but everybody calls me Jim.” Well, I thought, this is the second Jim.
The hours soon flew by and toward evening the conductor came through calling out, “Cut Bank, all out for Cut Bank.” Getting his suitcases ready and putting on his overcoat, Jim said, “this has been a very pleasant visit. I have enjoyed your company so much.” He picked up his suitcases as the train came to a standstill and the conductor called out one more time, “all out.” On the platform, Jim went past the window where I was sitting, smiled, waved and tipped his hat and vanished into the night.
That next morning we arrived at Havre. It was such a bright sunny day and only a few patches of snow, here and there, could be seen from the car window. Getting off we noticed it was quite chilly in the high mountains, enough so that one wanted to pull their collars up around their neck. My sister and I just wrapped our furs a little closer around us.
My sister Sallie and husband were about thirty miles away up in the Bearpaw Mountains and were unable, at the time, to meet us so we went directly to the hotel. There we stayed until our freight car of furniture arrived.
The next day my sister and husband came. They were overjoyed to see us. Sallie laughed and said. “My prediction came true. I am in Montana and I am living in a log cabin on a ranch, as I said when I first heard of my husband-to-be. But, at the time I didn’t know it.” We all got quite a laugh out of it. Pruden spoke up and said, “we’ll soon just be about one mile and a half from Havre. We’ll be moving to a ranch on the Milk River.
.We were at the hotel about a week before our freight car of goods arrived. Father had a house all rented and ready so we were soon moved in and comfortable.
We had only been there about two weeks when Pruden’s sister was to be married. The wedding was to be at his parents home in the Bearpaw’s. Pruden’s brother came to get us, that is my sister and I, in one of those mountain spring wagons with a large bay team hitched to it. It was about three thirty or four p.m. The evenings were cold in that high altitude and mama was afraid we’d take cold driving thirty miles that time of day with a team. I wanted to go. I wanted to see a Montana mountain wedding and square dance but my sister wouldn’t go with me. It was left to me to tell him we were sorry but we couldn’t go and explained why. To this day I wished I had gone anyway. The next time my brother-in-law saw me he said, “I know why you didn’t come. You were just too hightone to come to one of our mountain weddings and square dances.” “Oh, no!” I protested. “You know me better than that.” Then mama saved the day by telling him why, I said, “If he had come earlier we would have gone. You know we are not used to this cold country.” “Yes,” Pruden said, “I felt that was the main reason, but there sure was a lot of fellows there to meet you for word got whispered around you were coming.” He finished by saying they had danced most of the night. That Sunday at church we met a couple of nice fellows, Joe and John, that we went with just part of the time for we didn’t want to be tied down to anyone.
The days seemed long there. After supper my sister and I would go for walks. We’d walk to the end of the side walk and then climb the hill in search of pretty rocks and early spring flowers. That was a nice pastime. Upon returning we would play the piano or entertain company when they called. Then off to bed, tired enough to sleep well.
I remember Easter Sunday. It came in the middle of April that year or about that. We dressed up in our spring suits and hats and, started out. Such a lovely day, but when the services was about halt over we heard a wind and something like a pelting rain. When we came out everything was covered with snow by a driving blizzard which was still in progress. Being only a couple of blocks from where we lived, my sister and I, good at foot racing, took out. We heard someone call we’ll take you home but we were soon home. Those were horse and buggy days and most people who came had had their buggys and wagons already loaded with more than they could accommodate. We were somewhat wet though and the flowers on our spring hats were a bit droopy but it was so much fun, and we enjoyed being in a Montana blizzard for that short length of time. The next day my mother said, “you girls better answer your letters. You seem to be collecting quite a few. I had received one each from the last Jim and the Jim back home and one from Frank. My sister had several to answer also. She said, “You know what? I think I’ll just quit writing to them. They are so far away and I am not going to leave my family and go back there to live even if they did come out here for me. In that way they’ll know there’s no hope and get someone else.” “Well,” I said, “that’s fine but mine are not serious. We are only writing for the fun of it. Or maybe, she went on, “I’ll tell them I have someone out here I am going with for Sidney’s last letter states he’s coming out here to take me back. If I encourage him he will and I am having too much fun to marry and settle down right now.”
We were writing these letters in the dining room. It was a good home we were renting, three bedrooms upstairs, a large parlor, dining room and kitchen downstairs. Across the street from us was a large, nice home that belonged to one of Montana’s sheep men. He came in there in the early days and married a pretty Indian maiden. Their children were quite nice looking and he was educating them well in music and sending them to college.
Havre, in 1909, was a small town but there were a lot of pretty homes in it. My sister and I, for lack of something to do, enjoyed walking around the streets taking inventory of the different homes and how they were built by looking at them from the sidewalk.
On good days we’d set out for a hike of a mile and a half across rolling, rocky country to the ranch on the Milk river where Sallie and Pruden lived. It was a wonderful walk. We d hunt for pretty rocks and wild flowers as we strolled along, scaring up a chipmunk or
ground squirrel here and there. We loved to watch them sit upon their hole or mound and chatter. Now and again a jack rabbit or a big old snowshoe rabbit, at the sound of our feet crunching in the fine pebbles, would scurry away into the brush. Sometimes we’d pick up
a small rock and throw it to see them scurry on faster to another place of refuge. This was fun. Just before we got to the neat little white ranch home in the valley there was a long sloping hill that we would always run down to get to the house. Sometimes we would go by the road alongside of Milk River. This gurgling, rushing stream with willows growing on its banks and the black birds whistling among their branches, was always a milky color. The old maggie pie calling out every little bit was an interesting sight. Sometimes my sister would have other things she would want to do and I’d walk these trips alone. With the brisk morning air blowing across my face and inhaling its clean fresh atmosphere filled with ozone, my thoughts would wander back to our old home or the little pine forest on the eighty.
Here too, the prairie dogs, as I passed, sat on their little mounds of earth keeping up an endless chatter. Sometimes cowboys have been thrown from their horses and their horse would wind up with a broken leg from galloping along and stepping in a prairie dog hole.
I d stay a day or two. My brother-in-law who had batched quite a lot on his ranch before meeting and marrying my sister, liked to get up and get the breakfast. His pet name for Sallie was Petsie. When he’d get it ready he’d go to her bedroom door and say, “Petsie, I’ve got it ready. You get up and get the table set and the milk and cream while I go out to feed, harness, and milk the cow. I’ll be back in a little while and eat.” And when he’d get that breakfast of cowboy drop biscuits, oatmeal, coffee, eggs and bacon and the aroma of it started drifting through the house. You were awake right now, for one did not lack for an appetite in that country.

pages 66-68

Later that evening when mama got around to reading papa’s letter it said he was in Florida now. The work there was progressing nicely and that he would be home for Christmas. And it was a beautiful country. Everything was green and growing with flowers in bloom. Said he would bring some choice rose bushes if he had time before leaving. But instead, when he came at Christmas time, he brought a large bouquet of red roses which mama put in a vase and still kept after Christmas was over and papa had gone back to his work. He said in leaving he had one more state in which to install the pump stations and that was Georgia. Then he would be home with the family for awhile.
Pruden and Sallie now were already talking and making plans to return to Montana and ranch life. Pruden and my father had long talks, sometimes late in the night. I drew from that that when his work with the oil company was finished, his plans were to gain mama’s consent to sell and move West. My father had talked much of going West, even when I was quite young and this was the biggest chance he had had. Sallie and Pruden going out there would make my mother more than before feel the need of going for I too was always a western fan. My father never talked about it, but that I was ready to pull up stakes and go. I had read western stories and looked at western pictures until I felt I was a part of the west. The buffalos that roamed the plains, the vast hunting and fishing grounds of the Indians, their lodges and tepees were sometimes painted in colors in my oId geography book. That was one book I loved to study. If you ask me, I knew it by heart, its every river, capitol, the states and boundarys, and the mountains and its ranges. I was raised not far from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. I used to make up songs about them to sing so I was an avid mountain fan. For the big out of doors. I loved it in all its beauty and grandeur. I loved it just as God created it and finished it so long ago and looked upon his work and called it good. What better place to serve God than with the sky for a roof and the earth for a floor and a gentle breeze blowing from nowhere.
Things kept working out. My sister and husband continued to plan and soon their plans worked out. Letters came often from papa, and mama wrote back they had had a better offer for the place but said, “I am not yet just sure what we should do. This has been our home. I was raised in this country. How do I know what the West is like.” She went on writing several sheets I guess for I saw her still writing there when I had finished studying my lessons and decided it was time I should be in bed.
Frank’s letter lay unopened and unread on my dresser. I shook my head and said not tonight. I am tired and changing into night attire lay down in the soft, comfortable bed and was soon fast asleep. If I dreamed I slept too hard to know about it. It was cool and I tucked the covers in good around me as I got into bed and as I tucked them in I was and have been so many times since then, reminded of the times when my mother said you are a big girl now and you won’t be needing mama to tuck you in anymore at night. All those loving years were gone, passed at last. I was growing up. The more I thought the more I cried. I must have cried myself to sleep for when I awoke in the morning my pillow was tear stained as well as my cheeks. I think I felt just about as bad as if I wasn’t going to see my mother again. Those loving, little things that mothers do for us as children are never forgotten. They stay with us through all our life until the Lord says your day is over, put away the toys of your earthly life. It’s time to tuck you in for the night.
When Jim came that weekend he brought me a box of candy so I opened it and we ate some and passed them around. I was in high spirits as I told Jim of our plans to go west. Then I wound up on a sober note, maybe, if mama thinks it best. “Well,” Jim said, “your mother is a wonderful person and a smart one. You have a nice home and place here and everything you want. What more could you ask for?” “Well,” I said, “nothing, I guess, except to go out west.” ‘There you go again,” he said, “and where does that leave me?” “I don’t know,” I said, leaving his company, for fear more serious words would follow. Mama was preparing the evening meal and I thought that a good place to be, but he followed me there telling my mother what a wonderful cook she was. Seeing I wasn’t going to talk anymore he took his gun and went to hunt in the small forest and pasture on the north west corner of the place. I heard the roar of his gun once. I guess he must have missed or else got something. Whatever game he got, mama always had him to dress it and take it back to the city with him. City folks enjoyed things like that if only the thoughts of bagging it in the country gave it a wonderful taste.
So thus the days and weeks went by until papa’s work was finished and for the time being. He was back home by the last of January, Nineteen hundred and eight was gone and nineteen hundred and nine was on the calendar. “So, this is January 1909,”
father remarked to my mother. “Yes,” mother replied, “time seems
to have vanished and we have added one more to our family, that of a
son-in-law.” Yes, father Said, and he seems very nice too.”
February came in like a lamb that year and everyone was enjoying the nice weather. Out of doors, father and mother were walking
Walking around planning what they would do if we didn’t go West. My sister
and husband were packing, getting ready to go back to ranch life in Montana.
The days went by and they were off with tears and goodbyes and we hope to see you soon. Sallie and Pruden stepped aboard the trolley that took them to Norfolk and the railroad depot. By night fall they were rolling westward. A day or so later cards began coming back telling of the wonderful trip. Sallie wrote that the farther she went the more she wanted to go on westward. The country was new. Everything looked and seemed different. There’s something about it that enchants you and the cards continued to come. She said I know you’ll like it if you decide to come for I have become a Westerner, I think, already. I know I wouldn’t want to turn back.
“Turn back, turn back,” kept going through my mind and at last I thought I was right about wanting to go west and here was the opportunity. My sister had paved the way for the dream of several years and my mother began to think that maybe it was the right thing to do. Father and mother planned and talked far into the night. The light was still on in their room after I had put my books away and retired. Oddly enough I could look across from the southwest bedroom where I slept to the northwest bedroom where my parents slept. The house was built in a like shape. But, to get to that bedroom from mine, I would have to cross the front upstairs hall north and through two bedrooms then turn west across a small back hallway to get to my parents bedroom which was over the kitchen. Mine was one of the bedrooms over the double parlor. My brother and wife slept in the southeast room next to mine. I couldn’t blame mother for not wanting to give up that lovely, spacious home with all its nicely arranged rooms and furnishings. We were only thirteen miles by trolley from Norfolk and six miles from Virginia Beach, that big, fine summer resort on the Atlantic Ocean. We girls and our friends spent so many wonderful hours there. On certain days you could smell the salt water of the sea and hear the ocean roar on a calm night. We also got the cool refreshing breezes from the ocean on hot summer days and it was all just a nice inviting trolley ride from our home. We were somewhat tom between going and staying. Ida cried a lot about it, she would be leaving all of her relatives.
When some days later the folks that had come before came again and made my father such a good offer, mother thought we’d better take it. So the place was sold. The weeks that went by were filled with packing and discarding the things to be left behind. I was all excited about going West but here I’ll have to agree I did not enjoy this part of it. No one else did either for we were going too far to take a lot of things we otherwise would have taken. Mama would not give up her nice furniture so papa had to charter a freight car after all. I got out of a lot of it by staying in school right up to the two days before all was set to depart. The neighbors were wonderful. They wanted to help in any way they could. But most all felt badly at us moving away, after we had become part of the neighborhood and were liked so well. Finally after all the hurrying and bustling that morning arrived. My sister and I wore our bluish grey cashmere suits with hats to match and our lovely furs. My mother also, in her navy blue suit and hat, wore her furs.

pages 63,64,65

There was a through trolley from Virginia Beach to Norfolk for business people and school children that lived at the beach. It ran at 8 O’clock am. My ticket book, only to be used on school days, cost me three sixty-five per month. As I sat reviewing some of my lessons, for I didn’t get to do any studying the night before, my young friend came from nowhere and sat down beside me, just before we got to Maggie’s station. I didn’t think he was on that morning. He wanted to help me with my lessons. We worked at them for awhile but the trolley was too noisy. I closed the books remarking, “I’ll probably not get a passing grade today.’ His reply was, “I can’t believe that”. Maggie and I had visited quite a bit at the party so I wasn’t worried about sitting with her that morning.
School seemed to drag that day and nothing seemed to go right. I continued to remember the torn up looking house that morning as I left by the front door. I wondered what mother would do. I found out as I entered that afternoon. Lily was still at it, cleaning thoroughly as she always did. She said to me as I came in, “I’ll soon be ready to go. I wonder if you’ll take me home. I am sure tired.” “I certainly will, Lily” I said, going out to hitch the horse to the buggy. As my mother paid her for her day’s work, I whipped up and we were soon to her place. She then said, “you might as well take this laundry for your mother” and here she brought out a heaped up basket, washed and ironed. I said, “in that way I am killing two birds with one stone.”
She laughed in her happy way as she started to the house.
I drove off, whipping up the horses. I was soon back and could smell the delicious odor of supper cooking. As I walked through the kitchen door, mother was all in a bustle and hurry as she usually was at meal time. Her little short figure seemed to just bounce around. “I am not fixing too much tonight Annie” she said. I said, “well whatever it is it’s going to taste mighty good for I am really hungry.” They didn’t have school lunches in those days and the small lunch I did take was usually divided with someone else. I was no different than other young people, just always hungry.
When I slipped off to bed that night, I saw mother sitting, answering father’s letter. I know the days seemed long for her without father coming home for the evening meal.
The time went faster than anyone figured and Thanksgiving rolled around and mother said, “your father can’t be here so we’ll not have too much of a Thanksgiving dinner.” But my sister Sallie and her husband came back a few days before that day and my brother and wife were still with us so mama thought she’d better have Lily to come and help and we’d have a big Thanksgiving dinner after all. A letter came from papa saying not to wait as he would not be able to make it as he was in South Carolina then.
That Thanksgiving went off pleasantly. Toward evening folks came by trolley from Norfolk, some to see the baby which was growing like any healthy baby should. My brother and wife showed her off with a proud gesture. Then the visiting went on until later. Some of the young folks went back on the last trolley, remarking to mother how they had enjoyed the evening as they bade goodbye. Then they got into the carriage for my brother to drive them to the station. I had disappeared from the scene an hour before and was up in my room catching up on some of my lessons. I had gone out on the upstairs front porch to get a breath of fresh air, to take a look into the night and the big moon that shone there. I could hear the parting words as the carriage rolled out of the driveway and into the road. As I stood there I could still faintly hear the hoof beats of the team in the distance. Then as I returned through the open door into the upstairs hall and into my bedroom to go to bed I saw my sister through another door, busily engaged in writing. Two letters were open on the table before her. I judged one was from Sidney and the other Ossie. “Oh, well!” I thought and lay my head upon a nice soft white pillow and was soon in dream lands.
I did not have to go to school the next morning so I was up early, went to the kitchen and prepared breakfast as quietly as I could without waking the rest of the household. Mama, an easy sleeper, came softly down the back stairs. “Why Annie,” she said, “I over slept this morning.” “No wonder,” I said, “look how late you were up last night. There is no use being quiet any longer, this will be ready as soon as I get the table set.” Banging on the back and winding front stairs called out, if you expect to get any breakfast it’s time you were up and about. Soon footsteps were heard coming down both stairs. Some still rubbing their eyes. My sister-in-law wasn’t feeling too well because the baby had kept her awake most of the night. So my brother took up a tray of breakfast to her.
It was one of those chilly November mornings. A light drizzle of rain mixed with a few snow flakes had been coming down since early morning. For several days the light mist seemed to prevail and each rain drop seemed to have a halo around it. Finally it let up with a light covering of wet snow on the ground, that morning after the Thanksgiving holidays were over. And December too, came in with a light snow in the night. I awoke early, as usual, dressed in a blue jacket suit, slipped quietly out of the front door with rain coat, overshoes and umbrella. My lunch was in my pocket and books under my arm inside of my rain coat. A bit of a frosty nip was in the air, but it had a clean fresh smell and gave one an invigorating feeling as I walked along over the wet, white blanket nature had left the night before. A wee bit late and then I could not make as much time on the almost mile walk. Consequently the trolley wound up at the station at the same time but I had started to run when I got to the Blacksmith Shop. I heard the man in the shop say as I went by, “you’ll have to set that alarm a little earlier.” I laughed and waved to him as I hurried on. The conductor grabbed my arm and pulled me up the steps and said, “that’s the first time I’ve had to wait for you,.” My friend eddy, watching from the window, had a seat saved for me. That seven forty-five trolley was always crowded with school children and people going to work in Norfolk.
School though went off as usual that day and when I returned on the four o’clock trolley that p.m., I picked up the mail at the post office. The old postmaster, always jolly, began to tease as he handed me another letter from Frank and also two for my sister Wilhelmina and one from papa for mama.
The walk home was better than that morning. The snow too practically gone. That part of the country was somewhat sandy so water didn’t stand too long in the roads and I was walking a little fast because of the damp chill in the air. Just then the sun clouded over and looked as though we might get more snow. Finally I heard someone running behind me again. Turning, there was Ethel with books in hand and running to catch up. I slowed up my pace and soon we were walking together and talking of the day’s happenings for she too always had a lot to tell. I can see her now, opening her mouth, laughing in a boyish like way, relating the little incidents of happenings during the day. It wasn’t long until her brother younger than she came tagging along too and ran on ahead. Said he didn’t want to listen to girl talk. About that time the folks came driving down the road to pick me up. We were then to Ethel’s home so I got in the buggy.
Mama was awfully glad to get papa’s letter which I handed to her as I walked into the house. Then mama looked around and said, “our clock must be slow. I thought I sent them in time to pick you up at the depot.” “Well,” I said, “the roads weren’t too wet and I made it alright.” As I gave Wilhelmina her two letters she said, “why I just answered two.” I then said, “you have two more to answer.” Then she asked, “what’s in your hand? I said, “nothing to worry about. I answer mine as I get around to it,” and went on up stairs to change my school clothes for a house dress and apron. My brother-in-law said, “you look nicer in that outfit.” I said, “thanks, I think so too,” and went knot the kitchen to assist mama in preparing the evening meal. I always liked doing things like that, especially after being in school all day.
Later that evening when mama got around to reading papa’s letter it said he was in Florida now. The work there was progressing nicely and that he would be home for Christmas. And it was a beautiful country. Everything was green and growing with flowers in bloom. Said he would bring some choice rose bushes if he had time before leaving. But instead, when he came at Christmas time, he brought a large bouquet of red roses which mama put in a vase and still kept after Christmas was over and papa had gone back to his work. He said in leaving he had one more state in which to install the pump stations and that was Georgia. Then he would be home with the family for awhile.

pages 60,61,& 62

Soon home and mama had a nice dinner waiting for us. My brother-in-law to be, Pruden, put his arm around my mother and drew her up close saying, “We’ve got it.” Then he pulled the paper out and showed it to her. “Well, that’s nice.” She said. “I am happy for you both and I trust you will always be as happy as you are right now.” Then picking up the corner of her big apron brushed a tear from her eye. About that time my sister Wilhelmina came in. “Well”, she said, “you’ll soon be and old married couple.” “That’s what we are aiming for,” said Pruden. With that we all sat down to the table, looking around. Two were missing. Here they came arm in arm down the stairs, my brother Harry and wife Ida. Ida, with a faint blush on her cheeks, looked so sweet in her smock, that was hiding what would soon be the first grandchild. She was making an effort to smile but the evidence showed a trace of a tear for she cried easily, sometimes because she was just happy. She loved to read the Bible and have prayer with the family. My mother was a lover of reading the Bible also. Many is the time I have seen her reading by an old coal oil lamp. Mother used to say to we children, “remember prayer is the bridge that will always carry you safely over.
Pruden tried teasing mother a bit. Finally she smiled when he said, “maybe we are the ones,” putting his arm on Sallie’s shoulder, “that should be sad.”
The next few days passed rapidly and the time arrived. A doctor and nurse were summoned. That afternoon, about five o’clock on my father and mother’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, a little girl arrived to my brother and wife. They gave her the name of Mary Maxine. She grew and thrived but cried a lot. The nurse said she had the colic caused from gas on the stomach.
Different ones called to congratulate Harry and Ida and tell them what a fine baby they had. Some also brought gifts for the baby.
The next morning Pruden received a letter from his friend, Ossie, whom he had asked to be best man at their wedding. Wilhelmina was to be the maid of honor. Ossie came a few days ahead of time and he was smitten with Wilhelmina right off. We could all see that from the start. A nice looking, dark, curly haired fellow, well raised and well educated. Of course, she didn’t take too much to him because she was still in love and writing to Sidney.
The days went by and preparations for the wedding were at hand. The home had to be decorated with flowers the day before. The invitations were already on their way. Mama hired help for the extra cooking that had to be done. The ninth of September, 1908 dawned as any other day, only the household was astir a bit earlier that morning. The woman mama had hired drove in the yard as mama came down the back steps from the bedroom above. Mama was glad to see her as the house was full of company and she needed help on the breakfast.
My brother’s wife hadn’t been allowed to go up and down stairs yet so the nurse took her breakfast up, as usual, on a tray. When the wedding was about ready to be performed, Ida was dressed in a very nice dress and Harry and the nurse assisted her down the winding stairs and into the double parlors from the large reception hall. She was given a good seat. The nurse said the baby must witness this also so she went back up the stairs and slipped a pretty dress on her and brought her down as the bridal party was ready to walk in under the arch between the double parlors.
It was two o’clock in the afternoon. The wedding was to be a quiet home wedding but neighbors and friends had been invited anyway. Just as they were ready a carriage load drove up that had come a little late on the trolley from Norfolk.
Sallie was beautiful in her white satin ruffled dress and her flowered veil head dress and white shoes. Wilhelmina looked just about as beautiful as the bride, in her dress of the same material and white shoes.
The bridal couple had their suitcases all packed. After the wedding and reception were over and the bride changed to a light blue jacket suit, hat and black shoes, my brother, Harry, took them to the station where they took the four o’clock trolley for Norfolk. From there they went to North Carolina for an extended honeymoon, visiting all of his relatives and friends.
Ossie stayed for a couple more days before leaving. I believe if Wilhelmina would have agreed they would have been engaged before he went back. The letters that followed, one almost everyday, kept her busy answering for letters came from both Sidney and Ossie.
The day after the wedding, September tenth, 1908, I was sixteen. I wasn’t telling anyone but some how it leaked out. I heard so often that day, “Sweet sixteen and never been kissed!” After I had heard it so many times I finally got brave enough to say, “how do you know?”
That night up in my room I wrote Frank telling him all about the wedding and that I would be going back to school again tomorrow. I wrote. . . we seem to have the same old crowd on the trolley each morning. They start loading at the Virginia Beach station and four stations before they get to my station. Sometimes it was so crowded I could hardly get a seat. There’s one new face that rides our school trolley, a young lawyer that graduated last year. My folks and his folks have visited. The only differe3nce is they attend the Methodist church and we the Baptist. One morning he gave me his seat and then after that he’d save me a seat which made it nice. He’s nice looking and a good talker and we enjoy each other’s company. But, don’t worry, I haven’t lost my heart to anyone yet and don’t intend to for a while. . . .After several sheets I was getting sleepy and thought it best that I go to bed.
The day before and the next day found our home empty of company for which we were glad for a while. All the rooms seemed so quiet. Mother had the cleaning woman to come and give the house a good cleaning. I was at school while that was done for I never cared too much about the house anyway and less when it was torn up. I liked best the out-of-doors, winter and summer.
When father returned from work that evening I heard him telling mother that the oil company had given him a new job, that of putting in pump stations throughout several of the Southern states. He’d be leaving in a couple of weeks, all of which was quite a surprise for mother. “That means, “She said, “I’ll have to be getting your clothes ready for travel.”
A few days later Maggie and I got into it somewhat because I went to Lynnhaven each morning to take the trolley instead of walking through our field to get on with her a the Tylor Station. She said it was all because Eddy saved me a seat. Well, I said he’d still have the seat saved for me even if I did get on at your station. We still sat together anyway when we could. I didn’t quarrel or get provoked because the way our folks had raised us we were always supposed to be nice to the other person whether they were with us or not.
That was one thing our parents stressed – good manners at all times, no matter who we were with. My parents were always telling us above all things we must grow up to be good American citizens and never be snobbish with anyone. They gave us nice clothes and paid tuition to send us to town schools when we could have gone to the country school. They furnished our home nice with carpet, new piano and furniture, gave us music lessons from extra good teachers. And never objected when our friends came to spend a week or a few days. They had a new carriage and buggy, harness, and good horses to pull or hitch to them so that when we went places we acted and looked like the kind of a home we came from or just well dressed, good American citizens as our folks taught us to be. The thing my father was the proudest of was his naturalization papers, showing as a young man of twenty-five, he was a true and loyal citizen of the United States.
In the weeks that passed we received several cards from the newly-weds and mama had gotten her first letter from papa. He said he had found a place to stay and was on the job. He said the work was going well and told where to write. I did not pay too much attention to the letter as I was busy with my school work.
That fall was a rather rainy one. My overshoes and umbrella came in handy most every morning. We had had such a dry summer, the fall was making up for it. I remember one night the young people of the church were suppose to meet at our house for their once a week get-together at the different homes. Mother had fixed for them then and began to wonder if they would come because of the pouring rain. But, nothing deterred them. Then mother began to wonder if her carpets would be ruined. Because of the rain outside everyone seemed to have a better time than usual. We all played games and played the piano and sang until we were all ready to sit and be quiet for once. About eleven thirty p.m. mother began serving the treats. Believe me it wasn’t long vanishing and mother was glad she had fixed a lot. For it was a cool, rainy night and there was a chill in the rainy mist that came down. Along about midnight, as the young people left for home, it let up. And we had quite a little frost that next morning. I was up early and off to the station before any of the others were awake. It was a cool walk, with my books under my arm. I hurried along for I was a wee bit late and the trolley was due at the station at seven forty a. m. That put me into Norfolk at about twenty to nine. You see, it took time stopping at the stations along the way.

pages 57,58,59

When I arrived and walked in, my sister Sallie and Pruden, as he wanted us to call him, were sitting on the sofa in the parlor. (A sofa is like a davenport only smaller in those days.) they were talking and laughing of things that had happened during the day. Pruden’s father was a lawyer and his mother a graduate nurse. A nice looking fellow when well dressed. Even around the house he wore nice, neat clothes and helped if there was something needed to be done. He may have smoked but he never did while in our home. How often I have heard my father say, if you see a fellow standing on the corner with a cigarette in his mouth and a white collar so high you have to knock on the outside to see who is in, never give him a second look. In those days though, cigarettes were hardly ever used, mostly pipe and cigars. My father thought more of the fellow who dressed befitting his hob and could do a good day’s work when called upon. In other words he felt the honest, hard working man would provide a better home than one who just stood on the corner smoking cigarettes.
Time seemed to have gone fast. In a few days school would be out for the summer and I was enjoying the thoughts of it. Two letters lay unopened and unread from Frank, I had somewhat forgotten them with my school activities, Sunday School and church parties. Then too, Jim came weekends for his visits. He was my sister-in-law’s nephew. He was a nice boy and I liked him as a friend. He wanted me to take walks with him but for some reason I never would let myself be alone with him because I felt he wanted to talk love. This I figured from the way he would look at me and I was not ready for that yet. Until Frank’s third letter came did I open the first two. He was excited too, about his school work and activities and his paperwork. When I opened the third letter the heading was, I am pretty blue, I’ll not be seeing you this summer as I had planned after all. I told you of learning to be a linotype operator on my brother’s paper. My brother thought I should stay here for most of the summer and continue to learn the business. However, my folks all plan to spend the summer in our cottage on Coney Island and I plan to go there for a brief vacation. I wish I could somehow find you there for I haven’t forgotten the little girl of my dreams last summer. You owe me some letters so please catch up on them and keep them coming. Remember me to your dear mother and father. I shall never forget the good times I had in your home. You spoke of people wanting to buy your nice home and place. I don’t wonder at it. I’d like to own it myself. Remember I and really going to miss you, he went on.
I was up in my bedroom and mother called from the hall below saying supper was ready. My sister Wilhelmina was getting ready for her date later that evening. Sallie was setting the table and Pruden and my father were having a good talk. My brother and his wife, Ida appeared from outside where they had taken a walk down a county lane. Ida immediately started helping to put supper on the table while mama busied herself dishing it up. I had heard whispers that my brother and wife sere expecting a little one in September to make their home happy. I thought how wonderful that would be.
Again that summer the church had a revival meeting and the ministers were guests in our home. During the two weeks of that meeting, Pruden, my brother-in-law to be, went forward and gave his heart to Christ. I felt so overjoyed I again went up. It made me feel happier than the summer before when Frank said, “now you’ve got to be good.” My sister, Sallie, was happy also. Awhile after that I noticed a diamond glittering on her finger.

That summer seemed to slip past a little faster than usual. Mama had been busy canning vegetables from the garden and fruit she had bought from the neighbors, besides getting my clothes ready for the next school term. Maggie and I visited quite often during the days that followed.
Our young minister was preparing to go away to a theological seminary that fall to finish his ministerial education. He stopped often at our home and had good talks with our folks and us. A good looking fellow with light wavy hair about 23 years of age. I used to tease Maggie about him.. Once he told my sister I was such a nice little girl and in a sincere way said he thought I liked him. “Yes,” I said, “I like him like everyone else. I like to be nice, friendly and treat everyone with respect.”
The days that followed were busy ones. Jim continued to come out on weekends. We had nice visits and once in awhile, at his request, I would go for a short walk but never beyond the road or much from the house. Ocie, Ida’s niece, came also and we had lots of fun together. Ethel, who lived down the road, never came to the house. When she would want to talk with me she’d come down the road in front of the house or up the driveway and I’d go out and we’d have a good visit. Once she said, “I’d come to the house but I am afraid your folks wouldn’t want you going with me.” I said “why/” She said, “because my father drinks so and my mother has to take in washing to support us.” I said, “Ethel, that makes no difference to me so long as you are a good girl. That’s what counts.” Then she went on. “most of the girls that are somebody shun me,” “Now Ethel,” I said, “I hope you are not being imaginative about that. You know one can be. You just be the best girl you know how to be and you’ll not lack for friends.” I have, during my girlhood, reproved many a girl or boy for slighting someone they thought not as good and highminded as they.
September was not so far away and big things were to happen the first part of September. I would start back to school, the first grandchild was expected and a wedding had been planned.
It was along in the last week of August that we hitched the team to the carriage and started the tem mile drive to the county seat and courthouse. The courthouse was most nearly as could be in the middle of the county. A beautiful day, one not to be forgotten. The birds were singing from the roadside and not a cloud in the sky. My brother drove and brother-in-law to be sat beside him, my sister Sallie and I sat in the back seat. Just before we came to the courthouse we crossed a bridge over a small creek. Here we reined the team in and paused for a moment to take in its beauty and listened to the gurgling of the creek as it flowed on its way. Down aways, two barefoot boys with torn straw hats, sat on the bank fishing. A little black and white dog played at their feet. My brother got such a thrill out of it for he had once been that same kind of a boy.
The big old courthouse, sitting on a grassy hill surrounded by trees, with several big oaks, was a grand sight. So cool looking with its well kept ground and there was the hitching rack. We got out and tied the horses. I wandered around the grounds and took in the beautiful flowers, found a swing where I could swing awhile and a bench in a cozy corner where I sat for awhile. All this grand setting, I thought, and no town around it. It was tucked away into the heart of the county.
Finally they came out of the corridor and down the large steps. I was waiting on the walk. I said, “did you get it?” They said, “we sure did,” and with that my brother-in-law to be unfolded the piece of paper in his hand and said there it is,” the marriage license that would one day in the future make them man and wife. My sister blushed a bit as he unfolded it.
Out to the carriage we went. On our return trip home no one said anything. We sat there as quiet as mice while the horses trotted along. The trip seemed much shorter returning than coming. It always seems that way when you make a trip for the first time. Years later I didn’t forget that trip. The sights yet, still plain and vivid, especially when brought to mind. Finally my brother, always as usual, jolly, said as we neared home, “isn’t anyone going to say something?” “Well,” I said, “can’t you see this is a pretty serious occasion?” My brother said, “you aren’t telling me, I thought this way too before I was married.”

pages 52-56

Singing at the exposition kept me from my afternoon horseback rides, which I would rather do than eat. It was a favorite past time to ride over the eighty and watch the fellow father had farming it. Out to the northwest corner of it there was an acre of pine trees. I used to just ride in and sit quiet like and smell the fresh pine needles and listen to the wind sigh through them and watch the red tail squirrels fly from limb to limb or so it looked because they jumped so fast. I would listen to the whippoorwill bird give out his last sweet note as evening drew near and the mocking bird, the brown thrush, the cardinal or red bird, meadow lark, the blue bird, a yellow bird who was first cousin to the canary, the robin, sparrow, catbird and so many beautiful birds. I loved to watch them and hear them warble or caroling. It seemed to make one’s heart feel good to see and hear god’s little creatures and the sweet note he had put in their little throats to gladden this old world. I would sit on my pony relaxed there amid the pines trees enjoying the big out of doors. Then I’d ride over to the persimmon tree and look up in its tall, high branches and see its fruit hanging there and feel the roughness in my mouth from the time when I didn’t know the ripe ones from the green ones. There was a big black walnut tree close by. I could see my stained fingers yet from trying to husk them before they were dry enough. When dry enough, they could be run through a corn sheller. That was the way my brother did. I’d ride on into the road south of our place and come on a slow canter down its tree shaded lane, enjoying it to the fullest. Then I’d swing north into the road going home and past the forty across the road from our place. The people that had come for their health had such a pretty flower garden. They both worked init so much. Then to the pasture gate, slop off the saddle and bridle and here, turn my pony in. Mother would have supper ready and I’d pitch in and set the table.
One of the things I liked best was to go to the garden and fill my apron with delicious ripe tomatoes, get a salt shaker and sit on the back porch and eat them. Food fit for a king. I used to think.
That fall just seemed to slip away too fast and soon it was time for prickly leaves and red berries. We were also using mistletoe, an evergreen plant that was a parasite. It grew on other trees but more commonly the dead oak tree. I have seen it growing on dead gum trees. It grows mostly on the high dead branches. Very beautiful when picked and made into sprays or bunches to be hung on doors or other parts of the room at the Yule season.
When I wrote to Frank and told him I caught my brother and sister in law kissing under the mistletoe, you can guess what he wrote back. But I was too busy and having too much fun at school riding the thirteen miles night and morning , to answer his letter or think much about them. Occasionally though, I would take time out to answer and tell him of all the happenings. One of his main questions each time was, did I have another boyfriend. My answer was always, “no”. He would write back and say he was glad and hoped I was still waiting for him. In one letter he stated he was sure he would never find another girl like me. I wrote back and told him to keep trying. I was sure he’d find the one and only someday. Well you can guess what he wrote back but that doesn’t matter here.
I met my sister-in-law’s niece, Ocie, that winter. She used to come out to visit her aunt and stay for a night or two and go back with me on the trolley to school. She just loved to come to the country to stay over night. She was about a year younger than I but we had lots of fun together. She would want me to stay over night with her and I would. They had a very nice home in a nice part of the town. But, town, no matter how nice, held no charms for me. I was a country girl at heart and loved the out of doors and the things that went with it.
Along toward spring my sister-in-law’s nephew, Jim, would come out to our place to go hunting. Not knowing it at the time when I met him, he was to be Jim number one in my life. A very nice boy about two years older than I with light brown hair and brown eyes. That winter seemed to speed by exceedingly fast. Jim came on weekends to hunt and sometimes stay over and would go to church with us. He would bring me boxes of candy and ask my folks if they objected to him coming to see me. I paid little attention to him. Sometimes I wouldn’t open the candy for days and when I did I would pass it around for the other to eat also. He complained to my sister-in-law about my attitude. She would talk to me about it too which I said, “I am just too busy with school work and I am too young to think of marriage right now.” I never wanted to be tied down. I just wanted to be friendly with all, but at that age love was out of the question.
One evening toward spring, my sister Sallie, came home and said, “I am going to marry a Montana cowboy and stockman and go out there and live on a ranch in a log cabin.” We all looked aghast and wondered what she was talking about. She hadn’t brought any young man from Montana to our home to get acquainted with the family. That was the rules in our family. My folks had to know from where they came, his folks and especially of the young man’s character. Before she ever knew him she had met a relative of his in Norfolk, in fact , she worked where my sister did. One day she happened to start talking to Sallie about this young man from Montana. She said he was visiting relatives at the time in North Carolina. So this lady got up the bright idea of having him to write to her and send her his photo. So . . . A few days after she came home with the story of going to live in Montana a letter came with a picture in it from this young man. Of course we all had to see the picture of her Western cowboy. With one look we began to “ah, he’s handsome.” she in turn, after several letters had been written back and forth, sent him her picture. Then he was ready to come after seeing her photo. It all happened out of a clear sky. It was along in April or May before he came, after a lot of letters had passed between them.
I never forgot the day he arrived. It was on a Sunday morning. We picked him up at the depot in Lynnhaven after Sunday School. My sister asked him if he’d like to go to church or turn to go home, I pulled the rein that started the horses for home. Sallie was saying very little while he continued to tell of the country as being very pretty. They were sitting in the back and my sister, Wilhelmina and I were sitting in the front seat. I could see she was keeping up her share of the conversation. She was very nice looking and was an attractive young lady as she had several boyfriends. Sallie used to say, “I wouldn’t more than get a nice boyfriend and she would take him away.” I thought, “Oh! Oh! Sallie’s going to lose out again.” But not so . . . The gentleman seemed to prefer the one he’d been writing to even though he did chat a lot with the other one. My sister Sallie was nice looking and always looked well in whatever she wore but never considered herself quite up to her sister in looks.
I whipped the horses up and soon we were turning into our place. He asked, “is this where you young ladies live?” We said yes. In the heavy Montana brogue he replied, “you have a most beautiful spacious home.” It took us some time to get used to his Western talk. Of course, you know, we had that southern way of speaking.
Being a cowboy he jumped out ahead of us and proceeded to help me unhitch the horses. He then helped turn them in the pasture. As we entered the house father and mother met us at the door and gave the young man a very cordial welcome. Then Sallie made them acquainted by introducing him, saying, “mother and father , meet my friend, Mr. Felton of Havre, Montana. Of course, being in the Southern states only on a visit, our folks invited him to be our house guest for awhile. After dinner my father really enjoyed visiting with him, in fact we all did. I especially did for I was a westerner at heart even though I had never gone West. That had been my father’s one desire too for some years but mother hated to give up her Southern home and friends for she had always lived in that part of the country.
The next day my sister (Wilhemina) got her usual letter from Sidney. He was the one that came that Sunday afternoon with the older man looking for real estate to buy then stayed for supper then went to church with us and back to Norfolk on the late trolley. She didn’t seem quite as enthused over it this time as she had always been. She had most generally answered it right off. Instead she came into the parlor and began talking to our house guest. Finally he asked her to play and sing something for him and she did.
While this was going on, curious as I always was and knowing where she kept her letter, I did something I had never done before. Instead of putting it away she had just left the letter lay. In it he said he had found the place he wanted and the house on it was real nice. He planned to furnish it and wouldn’t be long now until they could plan the day. At that I heard foot steps and got away as fast as I could. I slipped away to where mama was and told her what I had read. She reproved me for doing it then she thought awhile and said, “I guess she doesn’t know whether she wants to get married right now or wait a few years.” we could still hear the singing and playing coming from the parlor. I turned to mama and said, “there’s your answer,” for my sister had accused her of taking her young men friends, but in this case it didn’t work. The one he wrot to and came to see was the one he was sticking to.
When things didn’t go as she had figured, she sat down and answered Sidney’s letter with a longer one than usual. What was in the letter , I didn’t know. There were also two extra nice boy friends there in the neighborhood that took her places like church, parties, and etc.
Our house guest proved himself to be extra nice and a fine gentleman as well as good looking. He had been to Norfolk visiting some of his relatives there for about a week and came back out to our home on the four o’clock trolley that I came home from school on.
We were walking along together from the depot at Lynnhaven to home. It was a lovely spring day. The birds were singing and farmers were out plowing their fields, the fruit trees were all in bloom and the scent of the blossoms filled the air. All the while we walked, I continued to ply him with questions of the West and a she answered them he would add a bit extra each time of the wonderful West and things that happened there. All this fascinated me and so entertaining. About that time I heard footsteps and someone about out of breath running . It was Ethel. She was trying to catch up with me. I slacked a bit and told Mr. Felton I would wait for her and for him to walk on. He did and started walking as though he wanted to see someone he hadn’t seen for awhile.
Ethel had so much to tell me, as she always did. As we neared their place we could see her brother trying to get a calf tied up but it was running in circles and would soon have the rope wrapped around him. We ran over to where he was and helped him out of the situation.
As I left and continued the walk on home alone, I was reminded of a predicament I had gotten into when I was about eight or nine. I was told to go change and water the calf. I was barefooted and it was along in august. As I tried to untie it, the calf started on a dead run around my legs several times. By the time I had untied it. Then it took off throwing me down, rolling me over and partly dragging me as the rough rope was pulling and stinging from around my legs. It took the skin and meat with it. I wore the circle s from the scars around my legs for months, yes, years and to this day some of the scars are still there. There is also a nick or two n the right shin bone from the rope cutting in at it was pulled violently from around my legs. Mother, hearing my cries, ran out to where I was and helped me to the house. That though wasn’t the worst part of it. There was to be a party at the school house that evening and mother had bought for me new stockings, new patent leather slippers and had made a new dress for me. In fact , all three of us girls had been decked out. I went around on the north side of the porch, after mama had doctored and bandaged my legs and cried and cried. I had even eaten my supper because I figured I couldn’t go and would be left home alone for my parents were going also. Mama heard me and came to my rescue. She said “come with me. I believe we can do something about it.” by that time my legs were so sore I could hardly walk on them. We went into the living room and I sat on a chair. Mama took off the old bandage, the blood had stopped, then re-doctored my legs and proceeded to re-wrap them with much thinner bandages of only one thickness. Later when the time was drawing close for the party, she carefully put my stockings on over it. Next went the pretty patent leather slippers. My heart had lost its heavy weight and I was feeling better already. Then she washed my face again in nice cold water, combed my hair and re=made my curls for my hair was naturally curly. Then on went my petticoats and over that the lovely ruffled pink, organdy dress with the wide sash that went around my waist and made a large pretty bow in the back. All the time I was sitting, then mama helped me to stand. My legs started giving away and I began to cry. She held me and helped me to the mirror where I could see myself. I saw the tears were spoiling my face and did not help my looks or the large, pretty , pink bow that held three curls on top of my head. I grabbed hold of a chair back and said, “mama, I am not going to cry and I’ll be alright.” What I had seen in the mirror had changed everything. Mother had fixed me up too pretty to spoil it now. Then I sat down again and mother dabbed my tear stained eyes with a cold wet cloth which seemed to make everything right.
Soon it was time and all were ready. I never saw my mother look lovelier for her light blue dress with her blond hair and blue eyes made her look like a princess to me. We were just going across the road to the little country school but no matter where we went, our folks always wanted us to be well dressed and look nice in every respect. Both of my parents took my hand and as they did I finally took courage to look at my legs. They did look a little bulky with the stockings over the bandages. Mama saw mw and said, “just forget them. No one will notice them after night for the lights we had in those days were coal oil lamps. Our folks furnished a freezer of ice cream and a cake. We had an ice house and made ice cream often for parties and other occasions. It was just one of those country get together affairs. My brother looked nice in his new suit and outfit. He was stepping as proud as could be in front of us. My father, in a dark suit , white shirt and tie, his curly black hair and dark blue eyes and an affable way was always genteel looking. Soon in the school among the crowd. The fun we had that night has never been forgotten. It was just one of the many neighborhood affairs and when we got out there playing all those different kinds of games, my legs were completely forgotten. Before the evening was over young and old alike were playing games and having fun. Until all were tired out, we left the scene around midnight for home and bed. This happened at our old home place in Norfolk county where we four children were born and raised.

pages 49,50,51

The next day Maggie chided me for not coming over to her place. She said, “since you have met Frank I don’t see anything of you.” I said “Frank was the least of my thoughts,” so I went over and stayed on night with Maggie and she with me. We talked of when fall came, we would go to school in Norfolk and all the things two girls can think of far into the night.
My mother missed the fruit we had on our old home place. The place we were now on used to be a 120 acre farm which included forty acres containing fruit trees. A couple from Chicago, a machinist and his wife who was a nurse with their two children, bought the forty which lay across the road with the fruit trees on it the summer before. They were nice neighbors and liked to visit. My folks had already been getting good offers for the place from people coming out from town and wanting a country place for the summer. It was a beautiful, well built, large home built in an (elongated z shape laying on its side) The front part was with and up and down stairway and bedroom overhead. It also had two back porches.
My father and brother stayed on as life guards at Virginia Beach on the Atlantic for most of the summer season before taking to their new jobs. My father was an excellent swimmer. I’ve seen him swim out past the life lines and back in on the huge waves many times and I’ve heard him tell many times how quick work of the guards had saved more than one life. People little realize the awful pull the undertow has when a wave is receding. Then they get caught in it and carried out to sea.
My father was a fine skater too. In the winter we children loved to have him skate with us and show us how he, with his skates while skating, would write or carve his name in the ice and other figures and stunts as well.
Summer was fast coming to a close and Frank would come over and say to my mother, “I want to tell you one more time how nice you have been to me and how I have enjoyed the hospitality of your home.” Then he would say, “I’ve brought one more sheet of music I want to teach Annie to play before I go.” He would always wind up wanting us to sing his favorite, “a Hammock Built for Two”.
The days were slipping past fast and mother had begun getting my school clothes ready. Maggie and I would ride the thirteen miles night and morning to school. Norfolk’s high school was a large beautiful one.
In the weeks that followed I saw Frank several times. The last time he said, “I am packed and I am leaving but I’ll never forget the little girl I am leaving behind and all the wonderful times we’ve had together at your home and in this beautiful country I am leaving. The next morning he left. In a few short days a letter came telling all about school and the subjects he was taking. He said he would never forget the little town of Lynn haven, the country side and the little girl he left behind him. He hoped to return next summer and find me there.
Some days later I answered and told him of the food times Maggie and I were having riding back and forth on the trolley and all the new friends I was meeting and the subjects I was taking in school. With al of that, each Sunday morning found me in the Sunday School class along with my sisters. I signed the letter, Your Friend, Annie.
We three sisters seemed to enjoy attending this church. We were old enough now that we took more interest. My two sisters played the piano for Sunday School and church. My mother was good at helping out when they had visiting delegates because of the extra bedrooms in our home.
My sister Sallie was now working in Norfolk and liked her work. She rode with me of morning on the trolley but came back on a later one in the afternoon. Maggie use to want me to stay over and go to the picture show with her and come home on the one hour later trolley. I did once in a while but I told her I would much rather go home and have that hour to go horse back riding, which I did most of the fall while the evenings were nice.
I was riding thus on afternoon and rode past a rather shabby looking home not too far from Lynnhaven. A man in the yard seemed to be having an awful time to get to the house. I thought perhaps he was crippled and resolved to ask the girl and boy about my size I had seen playing there. The girl us to come out to the road and speak to me as I rode by. She looked about my age. So that next evening as I got off the electric car at Lynnhaven I noticed this girl coming from the country school with her books in her hand. I resolved to wait and walk with her. She said her name was Ethel. Her brother, younger than she , was tagging along some distance back. We soon struck up quite a conversation. I had heard her mother took in washings. She said she had watched me ride by lots of times and wished she had a pony to ride. By now her brother had caught up to us by running and was just in time to hear what his sister had said. “we could,” said her brother, half out of breath, “if daddy would only quit drinking so he would hold a job. Mama supports us by taking in washing.” then I knew what was wrong with their father when I saw him that afternoon. Ethel and I had lots of good visits after that. She seemed to like me and used to be right at the depot or pretty close by when the trolley would pull in and I”d get off. On bad afternoons my folks would meet me and they would pick up Ethel and her brother also.
Most generally of morning s though, I would get up, fix myself breakfast and be at the station or depot before the rest were awake. I had to be there by seven forty-five AM. If the weather was bad I’d put on rubbers and take an umbrella. Lots of times when the morning were nice I’d walk through our field, the long way of our eighty acres, and take the electric car with Maggie at the Tyler Station. This station was right at the back of our farm. Then we’d have fun hunting for four leaf clovers while waiting for the trolley.
When I told my father and mother about the folks in the little house and the conditions there, my mother felt awfully sorry. My father said, “a man isn’t smart when he takes on habits of drinking and smoking. It is only a waste of time and money and leads to poor health. The worst of it is that his family is deprived of a decent living.” I never ever knew of or saw my father use either. My folks were very strict with us while we were growing up. They saw to it that we shunned things like that and tat we used good grammar and spoke correctly. They used to say, “show that you have been well raised at all times.” We were not allowed to associate with bad company or those our folks thought would not be good for us. They would say, “a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches. Hold it high do not desecrate it or defame it in any way.”
A week or more later I got another letter from Frank. He always liked to write about where he had spent the summer or things that had happened. He spoke of the time when we had returned from the beach one evening Mother said to me, “Annie, go change your dress.” When I came back downstairs and stood in the door, Frank said, “you look just as pretty in that dress ad the one you just changed. I picked the patterns and my sister Sallie made them fro me when my mother was too busy to make my dresses.
That fall and winter, 1907 and 1908, my father worked for an oil company. The following spring and summer he worked putting in buildings and pump stations.
That same fall I was picked along with a lot of other boys and girls to sing in the Jamestown exposition chorus. Did I enjoy that! I can picture myself now. When the fellow that tried each boy and girl out said, “open your mouths now and sing. Let’s see what you can do,” I really did my best. Finally he said, “that’s fine, you have a wonderful voice.” Then he told me to be at the armory each evening for so many evenings or afternoons. Then the big day came. I thought that was something grand. We sang for sometime at the exposition each afternoon after school and that summer. I always did like to sing. I used to wake up each morning with a song in my mind already to start the day. It was most generally a sacred song.
My father ‘s one pride and joy was lining us up and teaching us to sing while mother played the piano. Father was a choir boy in the Episcopal Church in his country.