September 22
Laura M., age 15, North Carolina
September 22, 1997
Gave Zach flowers. :) Went 2 Chris's car and asked him 4 something and he wouldn't so I said, "Why are you so mean to me you're not my friend I hate you!" Went 2 Ashley's with Julie, Renee, and Amanda. Mom came at 6:00. Took care of Lucky. Did homework. Ate. Did homework. Watched "Ali McBeal.”
Anna L., age 75, Illinois
September 22, 1960
Lo had hair appt. at 12:30 as usual. After eating our eve. meal at cabin left for Elgin. Stopped at Maggie’s, then to Zella’s, not home. M. wanted to stop at the Jewel Store on way back. So she and Lo went in but Maggie didn’t get her grapes as the price too hi. As usual a bag of “nothing” came home with us.
Marcy S., age 48, North Carolina
September 22, 1972
In talking with Mayo yesterday these truths came forth —
I’ve never had the experience of being loved just for myself — have always felt I had to earn people’s love (beginning with parents). I would be loved “if” I were obedient, docile, dependent, meek and mild. Actually, I developed this attitude and behavior in childhood because of the way my parents treated me. Since then I’ve transferred the same motives (?) to other people who love me — and I can’t accept their love because I’m too distrustful and suspicious, and because I feel so unworthy of good feelings about myself.
My Parent keeps whipping — and dominating — my Child.
Even though I’m miserable a lot of the time, it’s safer to stay in my dependent Child. But as I dare to take risks as an adult it will become easier. I have made progress.
Lack of confidence and inner strength has made me accept responsibility for Harold’s drinking. It is very frightening to me to assert myself in any way — even with piano pupils — but sometimes I can and it is good. I must just keep trying.
If I could ever believe that Pattie Simpson is good — that I’m okay — some happy day I will! And I’m going to start trying to believe that right now.
Henry S., age 26, Michigan
September 22, 1887
Today has been cold and windy, and our booth at the fair was very disagreeable. I felt unwell last night and this forenoon I had a chill and have been sick all day. We quit early and took our things off the grounds, each of us carrying off blue ribbons for an exhibit of our pen work in the fine art department. We came as far as Bear Lake tonight on our way home; it was a cold ride. I have been feeling very sick this evening.
*(R. Henry Scadin Collection, D.H. Ramsey Library Special Collections, UNC Asheville)
Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
September 22, 1871
A long time since I wrote. I hate to begin, for I know I will get tired writing and miss some things. Monday-while I baked, Philip went to see the neighbors—and get the mail. Came back at noon—and reported Mrs. L very sick. He thought I had better go down. It was 3 p. m. when I started. Took a loaf of fresh bread along for Mr. Smith, who is getting better but has no appetite. Thought it would be better than soda biscuits. Had quite a visit with him. He told me of parts of New Mexico and Arizona he had been in, and wished I could see them, particularly Jacobs Well and Inspiration Rock. When I left he said, “Be very careful, dont try and do too much, and get sick.”
There had been a log acrost the branch where I used to cross, it was gone and I had to take off shoes and stockings and wade. It was a miry place, and I went in over my feat, such ugly mud, had trouble to wash it off.
Found Mrs. L in bed— Mr. L just able to crawl, and her brother getting supper. Mush and milk, coffee and pie. The L – are one of the very few, who keep a cow. After supper fixed to bake bread next day, then commenced at the dishes, which sat around in confusion, seemed not to have been cleaned for some days.
A little room, two beds, a table and stove. The brother sleeps out in another building, where they keep barrels ct. She moved to the other bed while I made hers, then back, while I made that one also. Then I bathed her. She has what she calls “the flu.” East we call it dysentery. What with waiting on her, and the mosquitos so many, there was little sleep for me.
Next morning waited on her (wonder who did it when I was not there), washed dishes, pots and pans, I had not found the evening before, dressed a chicken, browned coffee, and what not. Had chicken and sweet potatoes for dinner. It was long after noon when the bread was baked, and house tidied up. Then they wanted me to go to the P. O. I was too blind to see, what I do now, that any one who could eat as heartily as they did, were better able to go to the office than I was. I got on Cricket their Mexican pony and rode over. It was the first time I had been to the trail since I came in April. Struck the trail as the last of a heard were crossing the river. I asked a hearder if it was safe for me to go on. He said, “no danger, the beeves are a mile or more ahead, these are young cattle and laggards.” Forded the river—rode to the post office, only to be told that one of the boys had been there, and taken it along. Coming back, a large flock of prairie chickens flew up, and frightened the pony. I managed to stick on. Mrs. L required waiting on during the night, but I got some sleep.
Wednesday. One of the boys passed, and gave me a letter from sister Mary. Set yeast to bake again. She takes medacine day and night.
When morning came baked pies and bread. From some hunters Mr. L bought a piece of buffalo eat as big as my body. He put in on the table, and I was expected to cut it up, and salt it down, which I did. When dinner was ready I was too sick to eat. They talked of going to town soon. “I can go to day,” she said. I was surprised, as she had only set up while I made her bed.
The dishes were not finished when I had a chill. I said I must go home, I was feeling so badly. By the time they got Cricket—the chill was over, and fever had come on. When I passed the Hall Jake came out with a paper for us. Mr. Smith was getting supper, Mr. Philips was there.
They invited me to stay for tea, but I rode on. Their fresh buffalo and sweet potatoes did not tempt me. I was anxious to get home, and anxious about Philip.
I took the foot path across the branch between the Hall and our place because it is nearer. Cricket did not want to cross, and at a steep place whirled around and started back. I talked and coaxed and got to the bottom again, thinking he would waid acrost, but he made a big jump, and started up the bank full tilt. I grabbed his main and kept my seat. It is a mystery to me how I ever kept on, for I had a mans saddle—and was riding side ways. They say “angels take care of children, and old people,” wonder to which class I belong.
I remember nothing more of the ride home, when brother lifted me from the pony, and I could not stand. I sat on the grass until he staked Cricket, then he helped me in. I have been wondering to day how I lived to write about it. I promised brother I would never ride Cricket again. He said he was not safe for me to ride, and was angry at them for letting me come home a lone—when I had fever.
*(kansasmemory.org, Kansas State Historical Society, copy and reuse restrictions apply)
Cornelia H., age 26, North Carolina
September 22, 1862
I have been fixing some napkins for Willie today. His bowels are still loose. We have cool mornings & evenings & I fear we will soon have frost. J. Cannon & Co. are still thrashing here, the wheat turning out badly. Aunt Patsy Jimison spent the day here. I was glad to see her. I did nothing but knit while she was here & after she left I fixed two napkins.
*(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
September 22, 1668
Up, and to the Office, where sitting all the morning. At noon, home to dinner, with my people, and so to the Office again, where busy all the afternoon, and in the evening spent my time walking in the dark, in the garden, to favour my eyes, which I find nothing but ease to help. In the garden there comes to me my Lady Pen and Mrs. Turner and Markham, and we sat and talked together, and I carried them home, and there eat a bit of something, and by and by comes Sir W. Pen, and eat with us, and mighty merry-in appearance, at least, he being on all occasions glad to be at friendship with me, though we hate one another, and know it on both sides. They gone, Mrs. Turner and I to walk in the garden … So led her home, and I back to bed. This day Mr. Wren did give me, at the Board, Commissioner Middleton’s answer to the Duke of York’s great letter; so that now I have all of them.
*(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.)