August 21
Laura M., age 15, North Carolina
August 21, 1997
Good day. I was pretty happy and when Chris saw me he was nice and talkative. Stayed after 2 get my schedule changed and they said I needed a note from a parent and I had 2 talk 2 principal. Aah! Tomorrow… Came home. Watched story and did homework. Em came at 5:30 and we went 2 Eddie’s. He made us dinner and dessert and we watched T.V. Came home at 9:00 ’cause I was sleepy. God, let me get my class changed.
Anna L., age 75, Illinois
August 21, 1960
Lo and I up early. After eating Lo made one trip to cabin with some of the food. Marian and Pink slept in my bed so I with Lo. Girls had planned to stay at cabin but was with the boys again, so couldn’t. After taking Carrie to Sunday school, Lo went to Elgin to pick up Zella and Maggie. Scallion and potato corn, salad, blueberry pie coffee. Carrie and I went to Lavern’s golden wedding reception at church. Back to cabin had a lunch and Lo took them back and Pink, Marian, Dwight and Fran went along and to the Hospital to see George.
Marcy S., age 20, Tennessee
August 21, 1944
Lovely late summer day. Rather too hot but otherwise just fine. Pop went down for milk before breakfast and brought a letter from Connie [?]. Sent Helen a card to see if I could come out Sunday. Mary Jane slept till late — lucky girl. It was a lovely morn and I felt alive again and not afraid. Fairly busy in morn. Fun looking forward to show tonight. The sweet summer blossoms (Virginia creeper or clematis) are a soft scent on the quiet summer air. It’s all so drowsy and peaceful. At noon there was a new car in front of Clure’s and I heard a man’s voice inside. Good lunch. M.J. had gone down to Mattie’s for the day. Presently the car drove away and Ashley was in the front seat. Was he leaving for good or just going to town or what??????? Isn’t it funny the way you think you’re over something and then bang! it hits you full force again! For awhile all was dark but soon I perked up again. It would be better if he did go! Not so busy in p.m. It seemed as if 5 o’clock would never come. But it eventually rolled around and I set out for Mary’s to take her the bra and some halters. Met Horace at library — his 2 weeks’ vacation started today — and he said Mary wasn’t home. We talked a minute and then I went to P.O. and on home. Pop was there and had brought a letter from Little Betty. She wasn’t satisfied with “developments developed” and wants to know all the particulars as to why I’m not coming to Washington. Her mother is going to have another operation for cancer. I ironed a dress. Mary Jane called to see if she could stay till 6 and see Stanley. Took a bath. M.J. came and we had supper or rather dinner. Mary had been up after lunch and brought us some ginger bread. It was yummy. I called Mary and told her we’d bring the bra, etc. by after the show. Kimmie called and said Marcia wanted to go with us. We decided to go with them and drive back with Mum and Pop. Left about 7. M. and P. let us off at Kimmie’s. She got the cutest pumps at Knoxville. We three walked down to Princess and soon Marcia arrived, feeling rather battered after the hike. Got 4 seats together. I sat between Marcia and M.J. Saw “The Hitler Gang.” Mary and Horace sat not far in front of us. Oh! those beasts! Hitler certainly looks like a maniac — the others are, too, but they don’t have that look as H. does. At one scene I almost cried out. Why must we kill and hate and destroy, when there is so much beauty and plenty in the world? There are enough battles to fight within one’s own soul without destroying each other’s bodies. Must it go on forever and forever? The little men who think that power and wealth and fame are the things that matter — they’re so foolish and so wrong and so very little. Out about 9:30. Talked to Mary awhile outside. She looked so sweet and pretty — as usual. She and Horace wanted us to drive home with them but M. and D. were waiting for us. Kimmie said ’night and departed. I told Marcia we’d drive her home. Well, we went around to the appointed place and no car. So M.J. and I walked over to the trestle with Marcia. Beautiful starlit night. M.J. and I had fun walking home. Up at Tarwaters’ a little black kitten — so soft and shiny-furred — attached itself to us and just wouldn’t go home. It was purring and just too precious to leave coldly behind! It followed us in the house and Mum and Pop were almost won but were firm about it staying outside. We hit upon the brilliant idea of leaving it on George’s doorstep and were just about the accomplish our task when Clure came to the door. We talked a few minutes and tried to coax the kitten up the street but it came bounding back. Finally we just cruelly went in the house and did the dishes, leaving the poor darling crying at the door. Pop gave up and took it in the car down to Clifty Street. My hair looks like a brush heap — I got desperate and curled it. Heard voices over at George’s and discovered it was he and Ashley in the bathroom. Happy again, yes. Hot night. Slept by open window. Once I thought that someone was standing over me in a threatening way and I tried to pull the shade up to see. It was just as plain as those coat hangers I saw descending on Betty at school. What am I coming to? A very good day.
Henry S., age 25, Michigan
August 21, 1887
Kate did not feel able to go to church, so I went again today. Fred Neill went with me. I was writing this afternoon when Fred came along and asked me to go out to his farm with him; we went on horse back and came back around by the lake and took a good bath. I intended to write to ma, but I think I will have to wait until tomorrow now.
*(R. Henry Scadin Collection, D.H. Ramsey Library Special Collections, UNC Asheville)
Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
August 21, 1871
I call this place Cottonwood Rest. I want to describe it, if I can. So if I read this journal in years to come, I can then shut my eyes, and know just how it looks now. This is Township 29, Range 2 West, in Section 29. I think this description is correct.
We are about a mile from the river. There is a bank here, which many think was the bank of the Ninnescha—at some time back. From here to the river it is very level, and my garden is on this level meadow not far from the dugout. Back of us is prairie a little rolling. The men first dug a well, and at 6 or 7 ft. found plenty of water. They covered it, and it is reasonably cool. Not far from the well they dug a trench like walk into the bank, when the sides were 4 ft. high a 12 by 14 ft. hole was dug out, logs laid to fit the sides. When high enough—a big log was laid acrost the middle the long way, then split limbs and brush were fit on top for a roof, and that covered with dirt piled on and pressed down. A fire place, and chimney were dug out and built up, at one end, plastered with mud and it answered well.
The logs used in Philips cabin as well as in this dugout, were trees cut down by Squaws the last two Winters. Owing to a scarcety of feed, caused partly by the grass having been burned in the fall, and an unusual amount of snow, the trees were cut down for the horses to eat the buds and limbs.
This room is a little larger than the cabin. My bed in the corner has one leg. A limb with a crotch at one end, is sharpened at the other end, and driven into the ground, 6 feet from one wall and 2 1/2 from the other. A pole is laid in the crotch-with one end driven into the ground wall. This supports poles the ends of which are driven in the ground wall at the head of my bed. Then comes my hay filled tick, and my bed is a couch of comfort. The double shawl along the side, and the single one at the end—and it looks neat. Next to the bed, is my trunk, then the table— The next side has the fire place. The door is opposite the table, then the buffalo robes on which brother sleeps, and his roll of blankets. While in the corner at foot of my bed are boxes and various things including the tub, which is often pushed under the bed.
Boxes are nailed to the wall, in which the table furnature is kept, also some groceries. Our chairs are pieces of logs.
*(kansasmemory.org, Kansas State Historical Society, copy and reuse restrictions apply)
Cornelia H., age 26, North Carolina
August 21, 1862
Willie is no better. I staid by myself last night. Mr. Boyd staid at Mrs. Branton’s & Louise did not come down. I was not affraid yet I was lonely. Atheline or Fannie sleep in here every night. I have to be up once or twice every night with Willie. How I wish Mr. Henry was at home. I sewed a little on the trimming of Atheline’s scoop, will finish it tomorrow. It is a pink cambrie. Very dry.
*(Fear in North Carolina: The Civil War Journals and Letters of the Henry Family, Eds. Karen L. Clinard and Richard Russell, used with permission.)
Samuel P., age 35, London
August 21, 1668
Up betimes, and with my people again to work, and finished all before noon: and then I by water to White Hall, and there did tell the Duke of York that I had done; and he hath to my great content desired me to come to him at Sunday next in the afternoon, to read it over, by which I have more time to consider and correct it. So back home and to the ’Change, in my way calling at Morris’, my vintner’s, where I love to see su moher, though no acquaintance accostais this day con her. Did several things at the ’Change, and so home to dinner. After dinner I by coach to my bookseller’s in Duck Lane, and there did spend a little time and regarder su moher, and so to St. James’s, where did a little ordinary business; and by and by comes Monsieur Colbert, the French Embassador, to make his first visit to the Duke of York, and then to the Duchess: and I saw it: a silly piece of ceremony, he saying only a few formal words. A comely man, and in a black suit and cloak of silk, which is a strange fashion, now it hath been so long left off: This day I did first see the Duke of York’s room of pictures of some Maids of Honour, done by Lilly: good, but not like.1 Thence to Reeves’s, and bought a reading-glass, and so to my bookseller’s again, there to buy a Book of Martyrs, which I did agree for; and so, after seeing and beginning acquaintance con his femme, but very little, away home, and there busy very late at the correcting my great letter to the Duke of York, and so to bed.
*(The Diary of Samuel Pepys M.A. F.R.S., edited by Henry B. Wheatley F.S.A., London, George Bell & Sons York St. Covent Garden, Cambridge Deighton Bell & Co., 1893.)