November 30
Jesse M., age 14, North Carolina
November 30, 2003
Susan Schnable died this morning at 7:55. Sometimes I wonder what death will really be like. I really hope its peaceful. I remember a few years ago I told Laura that I wanted to die in my sleep. She said “But then you won’t be able to say goodbye to anyone”. Think about it; dying in your sleep almost guarantees a peaceful departure. But I think that I would rather be sure to say goodbye and I love you. I pray to God that I die old. I want to have a long, happy life. One that is worth remembering. I think I saw this one thing on an Army or Navy commercial. It said: “If someone wrote a book about your life, would anyone want to read it?” I hope I live an exciting, interesting life. Laura has told me many good insights, if that makes any sense. I remember we were in Boone, NC at Sy and Kelly’s (and then Aaron/Kristin/Laura/etc’s) house on Gordon Day Road. She had one of those yellow legal pads. She was always very into writing and would carry one around to write on. (Soon after, of course, I wanted a yellow legal pad to write on, too. Same with marine biology; she liked it, I liked it). Anyways, we were at the kitchen table (I remember our positions and everything –> I remember odd stuff like that for no apparent reason) and I asked her “how do you think of stuff to write about?” And she answered “good writers don’t have to think about things to write about. It just comes to them.” That left a big impact on me. Not long ago (well, yeah, it kinda was, now that I think about it) I put papers in this little hole in the wall at the bottom of my bed. I put some papers that I wrote in there. And one day I found a note from my mom, saying she loved me, etc. I don’t remember putting it there or reading it before. I think I asked her about it but she said she didn’t remember putting it there either. But that hole goes down a long way, and the papers fell. Someday, I’ll get them out. Because whenever I was mad at mom I would read it and feel better.
Laura M., age 14, North Carolina
November 30, 1996
Me, Katie, and Em made potato salad. Went to Kenny’s. Had Thanksgiving lunch. Held baby Rachael-Marie. She’s the sweetest baby in the world. Stayed there till about 9:00. Fun day. Came home and went to bed.
Marcy S., age 14, Tennessee
November 30, 1938
Didn’t practice. Went to school. No chapel. Usual classes. Home for dinner. Walked part way with Helen and George. Back to school. Usual classes. Had to go in Mrs. McCluen’s room after school with some others and write my English paper over because wrote on the back and I wasn’t supposed to. When I finally got out I walked to the city library to renew my book. Mrs. Goodwin spoke of my poster. Saw Helen and Allan when I got home. I helped Mother a lot more with the Red Cross and after I had practiced a half hour I helped till supper time. After supper I listened to One Man’s Family and sewed on my dress. Before the program was over Mrs. Holmes and Mrs. Margrave came to get Mother’s papers for joining the American Legion. Mother didn’t know how to make it all out and she couldn’t find Daddy’s discharge from the army so they had to stay quite awhile since they wanted to get it in on the night mail. When they did leave the program was over. I wrote a “Christmas Shopping” funny story for expression tomorrow and then I read a Christmas pamplet [sic] which the Salvation Army brought, till bed time. I then washed the dishes, took a bath and to bed. Daddy not home.
Henry S., age 26, Michigan
November 30, 1887
Kate’s thumb gets worse instead of better; she is trying a new kind of poultice tonight, but I am afraid she cannot arrest it. I received a lot of mail tonight, among which, was a lesson in flourishing from Prof. James of Columbus, O., which I have been practicing tonight. It is beautiful flourishing and a nice letter with it. It is a cold clear night and has been a fine day.
*(R. Henry Scadin Collection, D.H. Ramsey Library Special Collections, UNC Asheville)
Cornelia H., age 26, North Carolina
November 30, 1862
Late this morning as usual in getting up & late breakfast. Boyd went to Asheville yesterday for himself, did not come here till this morning. He got the mail. Mr. Henry got a letter from his sister Martha to which I have replied today. Boyd’s little son staid here last night. He got 6 lbs. of wool. Poor little fellow. He needs clothes. Cloudy & cold all day. I have just eat a very hearty dinner of sweet potato pudding, back bone & other things & am too lazy to write much more. The children are all at play. I am writing in my room by a little slow fire. It was ten last night before I got to sleep as I wanted to finish Pinck’s sock. I began it Thursday night & have only knit at night on it. This is a gloomy day & has been a long one as Sunday generally is when Mr. Henry is gone. It is now nearly three & I will stop as I want to read some in my bible.
*(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 34, London
November 30, 1667
Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and then by coach to Arundel House, to the election of Officers for the next year; where I was near being chosen of the Council, but am glad I was not, for I could not have attended, though, above all things, I could wish it; and do take it as a mighty respect to have been named there. The company great, and the elections long, and then to Cary House, a house now of entertainment, next my Lord Ashly’s; and there, where I have heretofore heard Common Prayer in the time of Dr. Mossum, we after two hours’ stay, sitting at the table with our napkins open, had our dinners brought, but badly done. But here was good company. I choosing to sit next Dr. Wilkins, Sir George Ent, and others whom I value, there talked of several things. Among others Dr. Wilkins, talking of the universal speech, of which he hath a book coming out, did first inform me how man was certainly made for society, he being of all creatures the least armed for defence, and of all creatures in the world the young ones are not able to do anything to help themselves, nor can find the dug without being put to it, but would die if the mother did not help it; and, he says, were it not for speech man would be a very mean creature. Much of this good discourse we had. But here, above all, I was pleased to see the person who had his blood taken out. He speaks well, and did this day give the Society a relation thereof in Latin, saying that he finds himself much better since, and as a new man, but he is cracked a little in his head, though he speaks very reasonably, and very well. He had but 20s. for his suffering it, and is to have the same again tried upon him: the first sound man that ever had it tried on him in England, and but one that we hear of in France, which was a porter hired by the virtuosos. Here all the afternoon till within night. Then I took coach and to the Exchange, where I was to meet my wife, but she was gone home, and so I to Westminster Hall, and there took a turn or two, but meeting with nobody to discourse with, returned to Cary House, and there stayed and saw a pretty deception of the sight by a glass with water poured into it, with a stick standing up with three balls of wax upon it, one distant from the other. How these balls did seem double and disappear one after another, mighty pretty! Here Mr. Carcasse did come to me, and brought first Mr. Colwall, our Treasurer, and then Dr. Wilkins to engage me to be his friend, and himself asking forgiveness and desiring my friendship, saying that the Council have now ordered him to be free to return to the Office to be employed. I promised him my friendship, and am glad of this occasion, having desired it; for there is nobody’s ill tongue that I fear like his, being a malicious and cunning bold fellow. Thence, paying our shot, 6s. apiece, I home, and there to the office and wrote my letters, and then home, my eyes very sore with yesterday’s work, and so home and tried to make a piece by my eare and viall to “I wonder what the grave,” &c., and so to supper and to bed, where frighted a good while and my wife again with noises, and my wife did rise twice, but I think it was Sir John Minnes’s people again late cleaning their house, for it was past 1 o’clock in the morning before we could fall to sleep, and so slept. But I perceive well what the care of money and treasure in a man’s house is to a man that fears to lose it.
*(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.)