Viewing page 197 of 207

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

130

I recall an incident concerning Russell many years ago that made me realize just how they sometimes felt about the blacks. I believe we were in Lexington walking along the street when Russell saw a negro across the street whom he knew and the negro yelled across at him, "Hello, Russell." Russ turned absolutely crimson with rage, tore across the street, accosted the negro, and told him [[underline]] never [[/underline]] to address him by his first name again or he'd regret it as long as he lived. I've never seen Russ so mad before or since.

I wish I could remember all of Aunt Mary's description of a rain they'd had; all I can recall is that it "wasn't a gully washer, just a gentle drizzle-drazzle."

Much to my surprise, I find that Peg Robey once came to visit us in Syracuse, I'm quite sure before my father died. I remember absolutely nothing about it. 

[[underline]] LATER DEVELOPMENTS [[/underline]]

Bill Dyer went to Brown University. I'm quite sure that I heard within the last ten years or so, that he had married Nelda Pfohl, only that and nothing more -- nothing on when, where, why, previous marriages, etc. Thinking I'd like to contact Bill and Nelda sometime maybe, I looked Bill up in the Syracuse telephone directory, or tried to, and he wasn't listened. So, now, I've written to John Southworth to see if he can give me a lead.

I find reference in a letter to Mother indicating that Ginny Kingsbury had become a short story writer.

Chunky Jenny went to Princeton and made Phi Beta Kappa, then the trail grows cold, as do most of the other trails.

Mary Barnes got married in the mid-twenties and seems to have had a very opulent wedding.

Mary McMillan, whom I have not mentioned before but who was a few years older and became an artist and went to our church, I find had a cover on the Pictorial Review in the February 1928 issue, thus making the big time. Seems to me she specialized in child paintings.

John Strong, son of the widow who married Dr. Eusten, went to Princeton; never have heard of him since.

Katherine Smith, the beautiful redhead across the street on Highland, married Leslie Yeager, a powerfully-built young man who served as a lifeguard at the Schiller Park pool summers. Although her stepmother was a friend of Mother's, that's the last word I ever had on Katherine.