July 4, 1914 The mechanical alarm bell jolted me from peaceful dreams this morning. I set the clock to ring at 4:30 knowing full well I would have only 30 minutes to wash, dress and walk to the hotel kitchen. I was minutes early. Maggie greeted me with a cup of hot coffee and said, […]
June 28, 1914 I am not writing in my diary every day. My mundane life just is not that interesting. Yesterday, I jotted a couple lines for a poem. Sweet lips I may never kiss. She is one perhaps I will miss. I pushed it aside as drivel but write it in this diary today. […]
June 24, 1914 I love the filtered morning sunlight and the dancing shadows of the cottonwood leaves on the dirt road in front of my house. I take my strolls when few people are about in the early hours after sunrise. My bowler shades my eyes and my cane is unnecessary. In the evenings, the […]
June 22, 1914 Determined not to repeat the lustful mistakes that caused my banishment, I did not fall in love. I fell for loveliness. Beauty usually does not hold my attention for long. It is like the lilacs that line the streets, I smell them, enjoy, and then walk on. I saw a strong swimmer […]
June 19, 1914 I like Brooklyn. It can be noisy at night, but the sheriff or deputy walk a tour to make sure the bars close at midnight. I can walk the railroad track every day to the hotel. The sound of the river and seeing beauty of the landscape, with the sun usually striking […]
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 […]