Viewing page 11 of 102

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

5

the barren little trees along the neck of the Peninsula moved and rustled as the air currents passed through them. Save for the sand-riddled shelf of ice along the shore, the open water of the lake stretched away, slate blue, to the somewhat brighter horizon. To the southeast, the city lay along the Bay shore, intriguing and reminiscent of other days. It brought back the thrill, sometimes almost lost, of those first days I spent in what I like to call "the city beside the sea." It reminded me that the pulse of the fascinating life that beat in those first days in Erie, could beat again and should. I knew that I was a fool if I let my life become trite and uninteresting. As I sat there between the Bay and the lake, gradually the sky grew brighter, turning the open water of the lake to a rich, greenish-blue. It has been an interlude that had done me good. I felt better when I headed the Plymouth toward home.
Easter was April 1st, starting off cold and wet but ending in warmth and sunshine. By evening it had gone up to 50[[degree symbol]] and the stars were shining mistily. Spring was in the air and it was as exciting as ever to me--a wonderful time of the year. Madelyn, our high school girl, came at noon to look after Rog while Mother and I went down to the Lawrence for dinner and then took a ride later in the Plymouth. We drove to Cambridge Springs via Waterford and returned through Edinboro, one of our favorite circuit tours of the time. Here and there, the trees showed faint signs of gauzy color, particularly the willows, which were beginning to turn a faint rosy-yellow as they do as spring draws near. We remarked on the beauty of the lovely, rolling country, wooded brokenly, clean and varied. I was well pleased with Erie as a location to live, on the lake and near a region still fairly unspoiled. That evening we tried to listen to Lily Pons on the Cadillac Hour but the static was so bad we had to give it up. However, Mother indulged in a long tirade condemning the radio set which finally drove me to become impatient with her, hurting her feelings. My impression is that normally when we were along together as we were in this case, with Willie in Louisville, we got along quite well, but this proved to be an exception. At the time, I attributed the friction to my being in a nervous state, perhaps induced by smoking too much. It would appear that by this time, the smoking habit had gotten a fairly good grip on me. I complained also about having had a pain in my side for three weeks which I was sure was the result of "carrying Harry's trunk at New Haven." I can't connect his up unless it refers to Harry Craig, the assistant test head at Bldg.60, who may well have been in New Haven assisting with the diesel tests. At any rate, I was ailing in this regard. Also, I was obliged to carry Rog around quite a bit as well as shovel coal, and I couldn't seem to throw off the trouble. I'd finally concluded that I'd have to break down and get Dr. McCallum to strap me up, any hesitation probably being caused by the expense involved.