June 13, 1914 Nellie knocked on my door at 7:30 this morning. Fortunately, I was dressed. “Freddie was mad, won’t get the carriage and drive us to the depot. He shouted at me, ‘It’s my day off remember?’ Please Julius, get the carriage at the stable and take us to the depot. We’re going to […]

June 12, 1914 Temptation. But I promised my mother a return to celibacy until I marry and more deeply, I fear dying young in a woman’s bed. My honor is my word and it is not lost on me the fickle feather of fate fell next to a brothel. The girls are always up for […]

June 10, 1914 After two days, I know the layout. The café is for the walk-in traffic, cowboys, and the railroad crew. The upstairs entertains more established and respectable patrons. Gentlemen are rarely seen on the back stairway in the daylight. Nellie, my first waitress runs the café with young Fran. Their job is to […]

June 8, 1914 I have quickly found a small house to rent in Brooklyn. It is a seedy community on the other side of the tracks.  I met August Durbin, the owner, at a pub.  It turned out he owned the saloon too. He explained, “The place is located next to a boarding house with […]

June 4, 1914 After work, Maggie walked up and said, “You sure arrived here in an all fire hurry from a place really far away.  You must have done something wrong.”  I was speechless and continued standing on the covered porch watching the green iridescent headed ducks fly swiftly just above the river. “Did you […]

June 2, 1914 My charmed, and privileged indentured childhood was over, and I ventured west on the train again.  I felt bound in emotional chains and unable to move.  I stared at cliff walls and mountains that were seemingly impossible to climb.  The weight of my world brought memories of my joyful youth flowing before […]

June 1, 1914 The morning was cool and crisp on the Colorado River.  A light mist rose from the pockets of water that flowed through the shadows of large rocks.  Swallows, such a stunning, iridescent bird species, curved, darted, and dashed above the river eating insects. We furtively crawled on our hands and knees from […]

May 31, 1914 I asked a man, “How often is the sky this blue?”  He only smiled and walked away. I hopped on the trolley and returned to a busy Union Train Station. Women in colorful hats and dresses brightened the waiting area.  Most of the men held fishing rods in one hand and picnic […]

May 30, 1914 I awoke to this warm Saturday morning with a foggy brain, which felt like it navigated through mashed potatoes. My breakfast waiter suggested a prairie oyster, the “hair of the dog that bit you” cure.  The fifty-fifty beer and tomato juice combination with horseradish, diced jalapenos, Worcestershire sauce and a raw egg […]

***** At 5 o’clock I treated myself to the luxury of hot and cold water flowing on demand into my bathroom sink basin and washed my face. It refreshed me, and I spoke words of encouragement to my reflection in the mirror. The self-support did not last long. I simply could not concentrate on the […]