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

Tuesday, December 10, 1912:  I’ve got the pink eye now. It’s in both eyes. I look a good bit like a fright. Can’t see very well at present. Oh dear, I wonder when I’ll get over my terrible diseases.

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

Good grief!  PINK EYE!  Grandma was sick so much during Fall, 1912—and I was really hoping she was getting over the cold that she’s complained about on and off ever since November 28. Now this . .

Here’s a remedy for sore eyes in a hundred –year-old book called The Compendium of Everyday Wants:

The following is a soothing lotion to be applied with an eye bath several times a day. One grain borax, one ounce camphor water.

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

Friday, December 6, 1912:  This morning arose feeling quite miserable for I believe I have the sore throat. Had an awful day of it at school, nor did I do much studying. Our last year’s teacher Mr. Northrop visited us this afternoon.

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

Poor Grandma, it’s sad that she felt bad on the day her old teacher visited.

Grandma always really liked Mr. Northrop—though she often gave him a hard time. For example, she once got into trouble for snooping at his desk. She found a drawing of a ring on his desk, and wrote “My Diamond” beneath it.

I think that Mr. Northrop was a very young teacher and that he often socialized with the students. For example, one evening he fell through the ice while skating with students.

Mr. Northrop’s first name was Howard, but Grandma always referred to him in the diary as Jake or Jakie, which I never could figure out. He must seem a little older now to her, and deserving of the title “Mr.”

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

Friday, November 29, 1912:  Came out a licked dog in the debate. Did feel so mad at first. Felt crosser than the dickens this evening.

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

GRANDMA, WHY DIDN’T YOU WRITE MORE?!?! Your frustration and anger are so clear, and you’ve been preparing for a week, yet you never told us what the debate was about.

Okay, that’s unfair.  I know that you were writing for yourself and couldn’t have possibly known that we’d read this a hundred years later. . .  And, I know that I can’t talk to a dead person. . . .

But, one thing that I do know is that your future husband, Raymond Swartz, was one of the other students in your small senior class. Did you debate against him?

I’m going to imagine that the debate was about women’s suffrage—and that the debate was the guys against the gals. Did the guys make “obvious” points during that debate that would horrify us today, but that you were unable to rebut to the satisfaction of the teacher and other students?

I sympathize—Sometimes I also can’t adequately explain things that are really important to me in ways that others understand.

Notes to my readers—

1. For more about Raymond and Helana’s marriage, see a previous post about their 40th wedding anniversary.

2. I don’t usually  “talk” directly to my Grandmother in these posts, but I had so many questions and it seemed like the best way to write what I was thinking.  Does it work when I talk to her? . . .or are my usual more straight-forward descriptions better?