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 […]

After another night of poor sleep, I continue to look out the train carriage window. Confirming, I’ll not have any more indiscretions.’ But then, ‘What does it matter, I’ll be in the middle of nowhere?’ I debate myself, I promised my mother, and my word was my honor.’ Then I remember my grandfather’s death, deliberation […]

On the Train West – Nebraska May 28, 1914 She was seductive, beautiful, supple, married, and willing. She laced her hand in mine and pulled me toward the pantry. “I shouldn’t,” I whispered. “I don’t mind. We’ve done it before,” she pulled the door closed, wrapped her long arms around my waist, fondled my bum […]

April 1, 1916 Dearest Julius, I have the saddest news to share with you and it could not be any richer that it happened on April Fool’s Day. The morning was fine, with a cobalt blue sky. The snow in my yard melted quickly during the late warmth of March. Colorful Crocuses, my lovely blue […]

March 2, 1916 I finished typing the diary of the man I love and now I wait. I know what he thought every day for eighteen months. Lord Ogilvy wrote a note, placed it inside the journal’s cover with Julia’s opened letter and then mailed all to me. He wrote with his surprisingly poor penmanship, […]