19-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, November 8, 1914: My thoughts are in some kinds of a tangled maze, for it is now November the eighth, and I have decided to begin on a new month at last. Perhaps this may be accounted for in the fact that my third romance has ended in a tragedy to me any way. I have given up all hope for none is left for poor me. No one knows, no one suspects that deep down in my heart there lies something which I would dare tell no one.
Blanche and Margaret B. were down this afternoon. Took their picture. Wonder how it will be for it was raining at the time.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Oh Grandma, I’m so sorry. What happened?
I want to ask why you didn’t tell us about your romance via diary entries during the past few months. But, I know you’re feeling too bad to answer. I’m sure you had your reasons.
Blanche and Margaret Bryson were friends of Grandma’s. For more about them see these previous posts: