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To have anything to happen to Rog or Bab would be a blow that would be terribly hard to take - all our normal worries pale to insignificance when something like this threatens. I hope and believe he will be all right.

Erie, Pa.,
Sunday, June 16, 1940.

Rog seemed to feel better this morning but we kept him pretty quiet all day. Yesterday I kept busy around the place working on the lawn, finishing my flagstone job, weeding, clipping, cutting, etc. It seemed good to be able to do outdoor work and my cold felt better although my ears were temporarily plugged up again this morning. And yet during all this work around the place, I had a vague disturbing feeling of doubt as to the future - would the terrible swing of world events close in on us someday and destroy all this we cherish - peace, freedom, comfort, security, hope for the future. That is the way these days affect me and I imagine most thinking Americans. Are we, like the British and French were, living in a fool's paradise soon to be shattered cruelly?

This evening we went to the Penninsula with the Reeds for a picnic and Roger seemed quite normal but when we got home, he gave us another scare by announcing his spine hurt - some of his vertebra were tender and he couldn't throw his head back. Willie was almost frantic again and I'll confess I was disturbed. But we decided to wait until tomorrow and see how he is then before getting Gannon. Rog sleeps with Willie and I sleep in his bed during this affair.