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WACO
Page 126
Pa.126 

Sam knew Mr. Brukner had died, before we told him. He said, "Well he was old, had lived his life. Why should I be so sick so young?" In the early morning hours Sam would nearly slip away, then knowing his parents were coming he fought to live. The coming of the baby pulled him forward like his letters pulled me thru after the death of George. Dad Weaver had come in the early days of the illness and now Mother Junknin gave me the same comfort. She helped with the baby made sure I stayed in bed all night..made sure with Thelma we were fed.

 One night I dreamed Sam was leaving on a boat. He reached for Buddie. Buddie cried, turned to me, so I pulled him back to shore. I wasn't surprised when Sam called for all of us to come in, that he was "leaving now and wanted "No moaning at the Bar when I put out to sea." "Who shall I tell goodbye to first? I turned my back to hide my tears. My mind begged, "Me, your wife, me your wife." "All right Hattie" he answered, "come on, kiss me good-bye."

He was put under an oxygen cone, full of strychnine hypodermics which held an unwilling spirit in a body already dead. He would plead, "Let me go, my body is heavy, I'm tired." Then  "When Buck puts that damn newspaper down, I'm going with him. What's he reading, why doesn't he answer me?" One night he asked me to come to him. I put on my remodeled trousseau Worth dress, feeling faint as I put on the tight fitting basque and ruffled skirt that reached to the floor. As I came in Sam yelled "for everyone to get out." After the top chandelier light at his request was turned on, he asked me to stand under it. Where he could see me.