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, […]

January 3, 1916 Stir-crazy, I took a walk this morning. The weather was fine, the sky azure, the snow only boot-top deep and my confidence in du Bois’s health soared. He can walk, not well, but with a cane he gets around. His frostbitten, black tinted feet look terrible, but the physician had not found […]

Hope and Trust December 31, 1915 My only hope is to continue. No hope is despair and death in deep snow. Hope is slighter, tougher, less tangible than trust. In good times we trust life and in bad we hope. I hope I have the courage, confidence, and optimism to succeed, to live. I trust […]