16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Friday, July 28, 1911:I woke up this morning with a very sick feeling, and do not feel very extra now. I do not experience such feelings very often being such a good and healthy girl. Anyway it was a good thing I guess that I hadn’t intended to go to that picnic. I ate a pinch for breakfast and nothing for supper.

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

It seems like the picnic was a major social event—yet Grandma didn’t go. On the 26th she wrote that she wasn’t going because something had intervened; and on the 27th she again mentioned that she didn’t think that she’d go to the picnic, but that her sister Ruth was going.

On the previous two days I’ve pondered various possible reasons why she decided not to go—maybe she was grounded . . . or maybe she was jealous that a guy she liked was going with another girl . . . or . . .

We’ll never know why Grandma decided not to go—but the bottom line was that she didn’t feel well on the day of the picnic.

I wonder if Grandma was really sick a hundred years ago today—or if she just made herself ill because she somehow managed to get herself very upset about the picnic.

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Thursday, July 27, 1911: Went with Ruthie up to Oakes. Ruth and Rachel are having such an awful time a planning to go so many places almost at once. Ruth expects to go to the picnic, but I don’t think I will.

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

Grandma also mentioned the upcoming picnic in the previous day’s diary entry and that she probably won’t go because “something unforeseen intervened.”

This entry suggests that Grandma could go if she chose to do so. Yesterday I’d thought that perhaps she’d been grounded by her parents.

Now I think that she is upset about something and just doesn’t want to go.   Did she discover that some guy that she thought was cute was going with another girl? . . .or . . .

It sounds like Grandma’s sister Ruth and her friend Rachel Oakes are involved in lots of things. I wonder what the dilemmas were—Were several events occurring at the same time? . . .Were they trying to figure out who would (and who would not) be at various events . ..Or guessing which events the cool guys would be at? . . . Or were they trying to figure out what to wear or which foods to take? . . . Or maybe Ruth and Rachel didn’t want a younger sister tagging along to the picnic—Grandma was 16; Ruth was 18 or 19— and said something nasty.

Whew, there can be so many considerations when one is a teen. . . (In other words, some things never change.)

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Wednesday, July 26, 1911: The barn is gradually turning to a deeper shade of red under the swift strokes of the painter’s brush. Carrie and I had intended to go to a picnic next Friday, but something unforeseen intervened, and I for my part have given up going entirely.

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

When I look at the weathered gray barn that sits on the farm where Grandma grew up, it’s hard to envision how majestic it must have looked in  its heyday.

The family had built an addition on the barn in the Spring and now were apparently painting the entire barn red so that the two sections matched.

Picnic Plans

I wonder why Grandma no longer plans to attend the picnic. What does “something unforeseen intervened” refer to? Does she need to help on the farm? . . Might she possibly have been grounded for some reason? . . though it seems like she would have mentioned the reason if she had been grounded.  . . or . . .

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Sunday, July 23, 1911:  Ruth and I were alone here part of today, the rest of the family having gone a visiting. I went to Sunday school this morning. Miss Carrie came over this afternoon. She was telling us about some of her beaus. I’m so sorry for myself, and so very jealous.

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

Some things never change–I can almost feel Grandma’s pain and jealousy that her friend Carrie has boyfriends and she doesn’t.

I’ve wondered what people did on dates a hundred years ago. A report by published by the City of Chicago in 1911 gave me a few clues about the youth in that city. I know that central Pennsylvania was very different from Chicago, but I still found the worries of the 1911 Chicago commission interesting:

Public Parks. During the summer time young girls frequent these places and sit around on the grass with boys, or go with them in the dark corners and among the shrubbery at night. . . The Commission recommends the removal of seats from the deep shadows.

Amusement Parks. Incidents have come to their notice showing a laxity of supervision and of the moral dangers surrounding young girls who frequent these places for amusement.

Confectionary and Ice Cream Parlors. A city ordinance declares that it shall be unlawful for any person owning, conducting or managing candy and fruit stores or ice cream parlors to allow any male under the age of twenty-one years or any female under the age of eighteen to remain in such places between the hours of 10:00 p.m. and 7:00 a.m. unless accompanied by one or both parents.  . . The following typical instances came under the observation of investigators of the Commission during its study:

•  October 10th. Ice cream soda and confectionary. Several girls and boys were seen in this place at 10:35 p.m. Two of the girls appeared to be 16, and 3, 18 years of age; the boys 14 to 20. One of the younger boys asked a girl to hurry up, and they would go to the hallway where they could talk by themselves.
•  October 11th. Ice cream parlor. Eight girls and 5 boys were seen in this place at 10:50 p.m. The youngest of the girls appeared to be 16 and the youngest boy 17. Three girls who appeared to be 16 were acting very giddy.

The Social Evils in Chicago (1911)

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Saturday, July 22, 1911: I put away some of my truck that adorned the sideboard and stand. Rufus went to Dewart this afternoon. Carrie and I went up to McEwensville this evening.

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

Truck: Worthless Stuff or Rubbish

The handwritten diary entry clearly said that Grandma put some of her “truck” away. At first I thought that I’d transcribed something incorrectly, but then I decided to check an online dictionary and discovered that an archaic meaning of truck is worthless stuff or rubbish.

Saturday Happenings

I wonder what Grandma and her friend Carrie Stout did in McEwesnville on a Saturday evening in July. My sense is that Saturday’s are pretty sedate in McEwensville today, but maybe it was livelier a hundred years ago.

In this entry (and in many others) Grandma refers to her sister Ruth as Rufus.

Dewart is a small town a few miles north of Watsontown. It is the first time it has been mentioned in the diary. I wonder why Grandma’s sister Ruth went there and how she got there. Did someone give her a ride in a buggy? . . .did she ride the train. . . or did she walk? (It would have been a long walk— about 4 or 5 miles in each direction).

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Friday, July 21, 1911: I was out in the field with my Daddy helping him with his everlasting work!

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

I love this entry–and as someone who grew up on a farm, I can relate to Grandma’s feelings regarding everlasting work.

The small grains are harvested in July.  So Grandma probably was helping her father with some task related to the harvesting of wheat or oats. The grain would have been cut, and then put into sheaves for additional drying. At a later date, neighbors would help each other thresh the grain (separate the grain from the straw).

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Thursday, July 20, 1911: Everything is becoming so usual, nothing out of the ordinary at all.

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

Since Grandma didn’t write much today, I going to go off on a tangent–

I was amazed to discover that the use of saccharin was banned in July 1911 by the Pure Food Referee Board in the U.S. Department of Agriculture. According to an article in National Food Magazine called “The Passing of Saccharin”:

 After July 1 when you partake of sweets you may know they are sweetened with sugar or syrup and not with a chemical. Saccharin, a poisonous derivative of coal tar and a near relative of benzoate, has been the popular sweetening agent employed by food adulterators, and heretofore, the government has permitted them to use it, despite the evidence of its harmfulness given by experts in Europe and America.. . .

It has a preservative power and is very cheap. But the Referee Board, which has been investigating Saccharin, has found it guilty of causing indigestion and otherwise injuring the system. Therefore, the government has issued a ruling entirely prohibiting its use after July 1.

National Food Magazine (June, 1911)

In 1912, the government reversed the decision and again allowed the use of saccharin, but it has remained very controversial. Studies in the 1960s and 70s suggested that it caused bladder cancer—and the government again attempted to ban its use in 1972. Diabetics, opposed the ban, and it continued to be allowed (during the 1970s through the 1990s products containing saccharin were required to include a warning label that it was a suspected carcinogen).

Fast forward to today—the nation is worried about obesity—and obsessed with low-calorie foods. Foods containing saccharin are now promoted as “healthy foods.”  For example, Pepsi and Coke promote the use of reduced calorie drinks in schools; and school vending machines are filled with these products as part of lucrative contracts.

Hmm—To frame it from a 1911 perspective: Are we talking about healthy drinks in the schools versus unhealthy drinks, or are we really talking about adulterated drinks versus sugar and corn syrup-laden drinks? (Personally I want to think that there is a third option that includes neither of the above. Somehow schools managed without vending machines filled with drinks in 1911.)