18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Saturday, February 21, 1914: Went to Watsontown this afternoon on important business. Came home in due time.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
What constitutes important business when you are 18. . . and very interested in a guy (who has only been identified as “he” in the diary)?
I’m probably way off base, but somehow this diary entry brings back memories of my excitement after my first date with the guy who eventually became my husband.
I wanted to show my cousin where my new boyfriend Bill lived. He lived on a farm that was visible from the main road—but down a long lane. So my cousin and I rode our bikes over to where Bill lived. We continued past the lane to a spot where we could look across the fields and get good view of his family’s farm.
We then turned the bikes around, and headed towards home. Just then Bill’s father drove up the lane, hopped out of his car and walked toward his mailbox. Of course he saw us, and I just about died. He said “hi” (and immediately went home and told Bill that he’d seen us).
These many year years later, Bill still teases me about spying. Was Grandma spying on “he”?