“Whispering to Myself”

Friday, April 21, 1911: Missing entry (Diary resumes on April 28.)

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Since Grandma didn’t write any diary entries for the next several days I’m going to share other relatives’ memories of her.

Today my father Harold Swartz is going to tell you his favorite memory of his mother:

Her sincerity and concern when one of her children was hurt. I could tell by her face and expressions that it hurt her more than it hurt me, even though I was the one who was hurt.

When I was about 10 years old a barbed fence was put across a path that went across a field to keep the cows in. I forgot about the fence and was running. I ran into it and cut my face from my mouth to my ear. When my mother saw me, I knew it hurt her more than it hurt me. My parents took me to the doctor. The doctor said I could whisper to myself because it was open between my mouth and my ear. He stitched it up. I don’t have any scars.

Harold Swartz

The barbed wire fences (as well as the electric ones) are long gone, but there are still small remnants from fences. If you look carefully at this stump, you can see a white insulator where a fence was once attached.Back when there were fences, it probably was a tree rather than a stump. (To better see the insulator, click on the photo for a larger view.)

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