19-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Thursday, August 6, 1914: Ruth and I went to a party up at Seibert’s this evening. A girl friend of Ruth’s came to take in the affair, so we all went together. Had a rather nice time. They played kissing games (have reasons of my own for not saying we), even if I did get some kisses. Arrived home at about half past 1 a.m.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
WHO is it? . . .Is he cute? . . . I’m not sure whether to be happy for you or alarmed.
I’m trying to be ecstatic , but sometimes I just can’t forget that in reality I’m a middle-aged mother who worries about my kids. . . and that you are my grandmother.