CHAPTER VI
My Mother was stricken with lobar pneumonia, and on February 25th, 1909, at two a.m. she was called away. She left behind a crushed, sad, and bewildered family. The afternoon prior to mother's death, she must have realized the end was near, because she called Denny (my Dads older brother) to her bedside to give him some instructions, and asked him to promise her that he would look after me.
I was eleven years old, and my father was sixty-five, and she judged that he might
not survive to take care of me as long as I would need direction and care.
After my mother's death, my sister Ruth dropped out of school to assume the management of our household, which she did with remarkable skill and devotion.
My mother and father had looked forward to remodeling and modernizing our house which was woefully inadequate for our family. My mother had discussed her wishes as to the remodeling program. Dad decided to go on with the building because he was sure mother would have favored it, since it was one of her fondest dreams.
The building was started as soon as the weather cleared in the spring, so we had an attractive and commodious new house of five bedrooms, parlor, " family room, bath and kitchen. The plumbing was not completed in the bathroom, so we continued to patronize the little chick sales facility at the end of the garden.
Our home was easily the nicest in the neighborhood, but we were all so sad that Mother could not help us enjoy it.
My earliest recollection was of primitive facilities. We pumped water by hand from a dug well in buckets and carried it to the watering troughs for our stock, also to the kitchen for cooking, and to the wash house where the family laundry was done. This was all back breaking work. We always wore clean clothes, even though it entailed strenuous efforts. We were told it is no disgrace to wear torn and patched clothes, but there is no excuse to wear soiled clothes.
To be continued
