January 1, 1932!!! Happy New Year! 1932 is here at last! It snowed again last night, so we got to go sledding down Pap-pa’s big hill. Everyone but Darlene, Beryl, Ruby, and I went home to tend to the chores, so it was just us girls with Miss Janey Jo all day long. She dug out Mam-ma’s big work boots for me to wear so I would not get my new shoes wet. They were way too big for me, but I put on four pairs of socks, and although I was very clumsy walking around in them, I was fine once I got on the sled. She also found a pair of mittens for Darlene, which she said Darlene could keep. Miss Janey Jo is very kind. I am glad Pap-pa married her, even if he did not wait a decent interval after Mam-ma died.
When it was about time to go home, Miss Janey Jo asked us to stay for supper and to sleep over again. We were ascared that our mamas would be worried about us, but Pap-pa said he would just ride over there and let them know we would be home tomorrow. When he came back, he had Sardius with him. We had a grand supper, then Pap-pa played his fiddle and Miss Janey Jo brought out some material she had put aside, and we made a little rag doll for Sapphire while Sardius and Pap-pa whittled out some legs for it. I barely can keep my head up to write this. We stayed up past Midnight last night, and now it is ten o’clock, and I am very, very sleepy.
They say what you do on New Year’s Day sets the tone and that you will do the same thing every day for the whole rest of the year. If that is the case, then I will do nothing but play all year long.
January 2, 1932. Darlene and I slept late this morning. Sardius had already walked home before we got up, and Pap-pa drove us home in the buggy so we would not get our shoes muddy. The snow is melting, making the path just one big pig sty. Darlene went straight home, and I did not see her the rest of the day.
As soon as she left, Daddy took a bag of sugar out of the cupboard and disappeared. Uncle Woodrow said he was going to check on the raft Sardius and Jasper were building over in his old shed. I asked him if I could go with him, but Mama reminded me that I needed to help Ruby with her reading. Mama has been too busy to help her much, and she is afraid she will forget the words she already knows if we do not keep working with her.
Ruby loves Baby Chatterbox, especially the part where baby keeps saying, “Baby, baby, baby loves kitty, kitty, kitty, and kitty, kitty, kitty loves baby, baby, baby.” She reads it over and over and then laughs her head off, and reads it again! It plagues me to death. I have been trying to get her interested in The Wind in the Willows, which is one of my favorites, but she keeps wanting to go back to Baby Chatterbox. After we had read it about ten times, she finally let me read The Wind in the Willows to her. She remembered some of the words and picked them out without my help. I am very proud of her.
January 3, 1932. Darlene spent the night with us again last night. She showed up right after supper with a bruise on her cheek, so I knew she had had a rough time with Billy Ray. I know that is why her mother lets her come and stay at our house so much, to keep her away from him.
Although we went to bed early, we did not go to sleep. After Beryl and Ruby fell asleep, we were still talking, and Darlene told me the worst thing! She asked me if I knew where babies came from. I told her I surely did, being as how I have seen firsthand how worn out Mama gets every time she has to go out looking in the cabbage patches for a new little one. Then Darlene said that was wrong, and that babies come from something just awful that fathers do to mothers. I do not know where she heard that outlandish tale. I tried to tell her she was wrong, but she got very quiet and would not answer me. After a while I figured she was asleep, but then I heard her crying. She would not say what the matter was, but she let me put my arms around her and pet her for a little while, until she got quiet again.
I feel so sorry for Darlene, I could just cry myself. I would like to talk to Mama about what she told me, but I’m ascared she will think something is wrong in the head with Darlene and she might not let me play with her any more. I do not know where she heard that awful tale about what men do. I know my own Daddy is a sorry drunk, but he would never do that to my sweet Mama. She would leave him and go back to her daddy if he tried.
January 4, 1932. Today was the first day of school in 1932. We did not have many lessons today. Miss Weston was tired after her long trip. She drove all the way from Chicago by herself. She is very brave!
Darlene came over right before supper because Billy Ray is not working over at Big Creek this week on account of the weather over there is too bad, and he is in a black mood. She had her nightdress in a sack, tied up so that it looked like a big, soft ball. We were out in the front yard, tossing it back and forth, when Ralph Lee Bittertree came into the yard.
I cannot stand Ralph Lee Bittertree’s hide. He is the meanest boy, and about as ugly as they come, with a long, scrawny neck and a big Adam’s apple that bobs up and down when he talks. He has yellow teeth and greasy hair, and he always has a scrawny stubble on his chin. I just hate the sight of him.
Anyway, we were tossing the sack back and forth, and all of a sudden, he ran up and grabbed it out of Darlene’s hand, and he shook it out and flapped her nightdress around, holding it up to himself, mincing around like a silly woman. Darlene tried to snatch it from him, and he hauled off and backhanded her, threw the nightdress down in the mud and stomped on it! I got so mad I punched him in the stomach, but he hit me back, hard, and then he said, “You little n— lover! You just wait till the fellers over by Madisonville get their hands on you and your n—friend. They’ll burn down both your houses!” and then he stalked off. Before he got out of the yard, he turned and spit at us.
I was so mad I ran into the house to tell Mama, but Jasper caught me on the front porch before I got inside. He said, “Don’t go telling on him to Mama, Pearl. It will just rile her.” Then put his arm around me and Darlene until we both felt a little better. Darlene was whimpering, but as soon as he started petting her, she snuggled up against him and quit sniffling.
I wish I could kill Ralph Lee Bittertree dead, and I wish I could kill Billy Ray dead, too. That job Billy Ray is doing can be dangerous, and it would be fitting if he got knocked in the head taking apart one of those big machines. Darlene and Mrs. Carlton would be as free as birds!
After supper, we all sat around the fire and swapped stories. Uncle Woodrow seemed a little blue, so we tried to cheer him up by singing rounds. It didn’t work very well. He just got more and more sad, and then he finally got up and went out to the barn to go to sleep.
It is past my bedtime. Darlene and Beryl are already asleep, so I think I will go to bed, too.
January 6, 1931
My darling sister,
I am back in East Tennessee, safe and sound, and none the worse for my journey. I quite like driving across the country! The time alone is perfect for meditation.
It was so good to see you again, but now that our visit is over, I find I am missing you more than ever. How I wish you could come stay in this beautiful old house with me! It feels quite empty with the Millers gone, but I have surprised myself in that I do not feel at all lonely. Rather, aside from missing you, I find myself feeling gloriously emancipated. I come and go as I please, although there are not very many places I have to go. Perhaps I will take advantage of the fine weather we are having and go for a drive up in the mountains to enjoy the spectacular winter wonderland.
I did enjoy seeing Jonathan again, but to be honest, Cecilia, he does not seem quite the dashing man I always have imagined him. I care for him, yes, but after getting to know the people here—their independence, their hardiness—Jonathan seems rather sedate and stodgy. He has his routines, his work, his friends. It is all so predictable. I am not certain I would be happy living the kind of life I have imagined living with any man from our set.
Enough of this! As I told you, I spent the whole trip back here, which I am beginning to consider “home,” in meditation, and have made some surprising discoveries about myself.
Much love,
Emily
January 6, 1932. I am over the moon! The wig company has sent me $43 and Mama $56!!! They said my hair was a beautiful color, and very much in demand, although it was so fine it could be made into only one wig. Mama’s hair is thick and over two feet long, and could be made into several. It is light brown, which is not as highly regarded as the color mine is. Now we are rich! Mama says this will be our special secret and we should not tell anyone about it, except Mrs. Carlton. She especially does not want Daddy to know about it because she wants to spend it the way she wants to, and not how he wants to. Her plan is to tithe ten percent, plus a little extra to go to missionaries in Africa or India, to help the children who are starving over there. The rest she will save for Sardius to go to high school next year. She might have to spend a little bit on the roof, also. Daddy does not like it when she gives money away, especially when she sends it to missionaries. He says we cannot afford to give money to savages over in Africa when we are all starving to death here. Mama sees it differently, though. She says if we give faithfully to the Lord out of the bounty we have received, He will always provide for our needs. That makes tithing the best investment there is.
Mama gave me $5 of my money to do as I wished. I decided to tithe on the whole $43 right now so I do not have to keep up with how much I owe the Lord. Ten percent of $43.00 is $4.30, which leaves me only 70c to spend, but it is better to make sure the Lord has His whole portion without having it hanging over my head. However, with Jake Hatton coming over so often, and getting me new customers, my money stash is growing quickly. Mama is right. I have tithed faithfully, and the bounty keeps coming!
The rest of my hair money she put into an envelope and hid under the floorboards under the rag rug in the front room. She said it should be saved for when I graduate from the eighth grade. I can use it to pay for room and board in Maryville if Daddy is not able to put me in his boarding house when I am in high school. Of course I want to save it. It is nice to know I do not have to worry about how much money Daddy will be making in a year and a half. I will be able to go to high school even if he has lost his job again.
January 7, 1931
Dear Jonathan,
I am back safe and sound, and as promised, here is the letter I said I would write to you as soon as I got the chance. The drive down was just lovely, and it gave me time to think about the conversations we had over the holidays.
I must admit, coming home for Christmas was not quite what I expected. The swirl of parties and all the excitement was more than I have become accustomed to, and I found it a bit overwhelming. You must forgive me if I seemed distant and preoccupied. I did not mean to—it’s just that I found myself feeling out of place. Dedicating myself to the Lord’s work has changed me in ways I did not imagine, and I find it difficult to step easily back into the gay life I once found so comfortable and fun.
As for our more private conversations, I admit that I am not fully resolved as to what the Lord is leading me to do. I know you think I will be best utilized in His work as your wife and helpmeet, but you have not seen the work that I do here, how important it is, and how much of a difference I am making in the lives of these people I have come to care for so deeply. Please forgive me for not being able to give you an answer at this time. I have much to take care of here before I can begin to consider moving back to Chicago. Getting some of the brighter children out of this unbearably hard life, finding a way to get them educated and on the road to reaching their full potential, is my first priority. I know you understand this, and I am so very grateful that you have gone to such lengths to help me.
I remain always your devoted friend,
Emily
January 7, 1932. Darlene did not come over today, and I had to tend to Ruby so I did not get to go over to her house. I hope she is well, but I am worried about her. It is probably too cold for her to walk over here. She has the new coat I won at Miss Weston’s contest, but being from a warm place, her blood is thin and she can’t stand the cold wind. I am glad Miss Janey Jo gave her those mittens, and now I wish she had a warm cap. Miss Janey Jo also gave me Mam-ma’s work boots, so I am wearing them when I walk to and from school. It wears me out to walk in them, but it saves my new shoes from the mud and the wet. I change into my new ones when I get close to school so no one sees that I am wearing a dead woman’s old shoes.
There is not much going on around here. Uncle Woodrow has disappeared again, Jasper is busy whittling out an airplane, and Sardius is studying. Beryl wants to play with her paper dolls, but Ruby will get into them and tear them up if we let her see them, so I have nothing to do but play with Ruby, and it is too cold to stay outside. I wish Darlene would come over.
January 8, 1932. I went over to see Darlene before supper just to say hello. Her mother met me at the door, but she did not invite me in. She just stood behind the door, cracked it opened a little bit and said that Darlene could not come out because they both were sick.
Mrs. Carlton was acting so funny I wanted to know if Darlene was really sick or if maybe Billy Ray had hurt her again. I climbed up on the roof and sat there a while, but I never heard anything, so I came on back down and came home. I sure do hope that it clears up over at Big Creek so Billy Ray can get back to work over there. Maybe he will go back and a big snow will come and he will freeze to death. He could thaw out in hell. That would serve him right!
Miss Weston came by soon after that with a pretty little sweater for Sapphire. She had already given her a blanket that day she came when I had to crawl in the back window and put on Mama’s skirt, but today she said she loves buying baby clothes. Since Sapphire is the only little baby she knows, she could not help herself.
Miss Weston also brought two dresses for Darlene! She said they were left over from the carnival, and she did not know what to do with them, and was hoping that Darlene could put them to good use, to keep them from going to waste. I was so happy about that I wanted to run get Darlene to come right over, but by then it was time for supper, and I remembered that she was feeling bad. I hope we can give them to her tomorrow.
Uncle Woodrow came in while Miss Weston was here, and she started acting funny. She kept glancing over to him and laughing at just about everything he said, and when Mama invited Miss Weston to stay for supper, she said she had to get on back home, and then looked at Uncle Woodrow and asked if it was safe to go out to her car in the dark by herself. He jumped right up to walk out with her. I think maybe she is struck on him. I wonder if he is struck on her, also. It would be wonderful if my Uncle Woodrow and Miss Weston got married! I wonder what I can do to make them like each other better.
January 9, 1932. When Daddy got home this morning, he seemed very tired and sick. He and Mama went into the bedroom, and I could hear them talking. It made me sad. I wish I did not feel sorry for Daddy, but he did seem pitiful. I wonder if he does not like having to tell those hobos they have to get off the train? I surely would not like to have to do it.
This is a mean old Depression that is making everyone suffer, but Daddy says as soon as we kick the Republicans out of the White House, things will get back on track. Daddy thinks it will be between Mr. Smith and Mr. Roosevelt, and he is pulling for Mr. Roosevelt because he is the best man for the job. It is impossible that Mr. Hoover will be reelected because he has done everything in his power to ruin the country, along with all the other Republicans who have been in government ever since ugly old Abe Lincoln, who denied us our state’s rights.
I am happy that Mama will be able to vote for Mr. Roosevelt, too. Miss Weston says that women were not able to vote until 1920, which I think is the most disgraceful thing ever. Imagine, one half of the population the United States not being able to vote for who is going to run the country!
I think that women make better decisions than men do. They are not as hotheaded, and they do not get into shouting matches. It was women who got whiskey outlawed, also. Some of them got tired of seeing their husbands coming home drunk, spending all the money on liquor that was supposed to be used for food, that they just said they were not putting up with it any more. I am not sure how they did it, but they got the Constitution changed so that not a drop of whiskey is allowed to be in the whole of the country.
I wish Mama could just put her foot down like the women in the Temperance Movement did and not let Daddy make any whiskey, although if she did, I would not have a job today. It is funny to think about it. Not letting Daddy make whiskey would run me out of business, but not letting anybody in the country have whiskey makes me rich! If it had not been for the Women’s Temperance Movement, I would not have a job.
January 10, 1932. Beryl, Jasper, and I sang Shall We Gather at the River today at church. Miss Weston had not asked us to prepare anything, but just before the service started, she asked us if we could do it since we missed singing it back when Sapphire was born. Mama mentioned that the boys were good singers, too, so Miss Weston asked them to join us. Jasper did, but Sardius would not. He is too bashful to sing in public. We did a good job, I think.
Frozen days and nights.
Ice rims my banks,
I murmur quiet lullabies to my silver children.
They lie cold and languid in the deep shadows.
The Great Darkness suckles danger in the forest,
Even as the flaming Orb speeds his entry into the days.
January 10, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
It has been cold and dreary here. My classes are going well, but it seems that no one is as happy as they normally are. Today, I went to dinner as usual at the Aiken home, but a gloomy pall hung over the table. I am afraid Woodrow is sinking into a black mood. He did not even speak to me today, other than to greet me perfunctorily, and he barely looked at me during the entire afternoon. It was depressing to see him so low.
His black mood affected everyone else, as well. The conversation at the table is usually lively, but today hardly anyone spoke at all. I tried to initiate some banter, but it was lost in the general glum atmosphere. Now I feel strangely restless and lonely. Hopefully, tomorrow will be much brighter!
I miss you, dear sister.
Emily
January 11, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
My Uncle Woodrow is a very fine man. He served in the Great War in France, where he learned to speak the language very well. He already knew French because he learned it as a child. He went to a very good boarding school where they taught him all the classics, including French and German. He also knows some Latin.
Uncle Woodrow also is good at fixing things. He helps out around our house a lot. He helps in the fields, plowing, planting, and harvesting. He also helped to fix our roof when it sprang a leak during a big storm recently. Uncle Woodrow is kind to animals and to everyone he meets.
I think it is time for him to get married. He would make a very good husband for a woman who is educated and who enjoys reading, especially if she knows the Bible well and likes conversations about it.
January 12, 1932. It was warmer today. Darlene and I went down to the creek after I got home from school. We were looking for crawdads, and all of a sudden, I could see Jake Hatton standing on the other side, hiding behind a tree, motioning to me. Of course, Darlene saw him, so I broke down and told her about my side business. I know I can trust her. We both have secrets that we can trust the other to keep.
Poor old Jake was twitchier than ever today, muttering and cussing, and that made Darlene get tickled. She kept a straight face while we were talking to him, but when we headed to the woodshed to get his whiskey, she got to snickering, and then she busted out laughing. I tried to shush her, but she laughed so hard she got me tickled, too, and the next thing we knew, we were about beside ourselves, laughing and running up to the woodshed.
She helped me to siphon off a half-pint, and then she decided she wanted to try some whiskey. I warned her about how nasty it is, but she just turned the jug up and took a big swig! You should have seen the face she made! I got tickled and laughed so hard that it turned over her funny box again, and we were just killing ourselves trying not to make any noise, but we did! Jasper stuck his head into the woodshed to see what the ruckus was about.
He caught us red-handed with our hands on the jugs, and of course, he thought we were drinking! He gave us a stern talking to, but we convinced him that Darlene just wanted to try a taste and that she hated it, and I hate it also. I think he believed us. I hope so. I made him promise not to tell Mama, and he swore he would not, if I promised him never to drink again. He made us leave the woodshed before he finally left us alone. We pretended that we were headed back to the creek, and then, after he left, we snuck back to finish pouring off a half-pint for Jake Hatton. We were able to slip back over the creek without anybody else seeing us. It was a close call, but it was funny at the same time.
It was all we could do to keep our faces straight while we were giving Jake his whiskey. Darlene kept turning her back, and I could see her shoulders shaking. It is a good thing Jake was so happy to get it that he did not even notice her. I told Darlene I could use another customer, if she needs me to supply her some whiskey, and she said I was crazy to even think it!
After we gave him his half-pint and I got my 25c, we went walking across the creek, over to the big beech grove. That is such a pretty place, even in the wintertime because the leaves stay on the trees and they are such a nice, buttery color that they make the cold winter sunshine glow as soft as summertime. The Cherokee believed that a beech grove was sacred, and so are oak groves and the groves of other trees that keep their leaves all winter long.
I got to telling Darlene a story about a haint who used to live in beech groves, and I had just gotten to the real scary part when we heard a rustling in a rhododendron hell right beside us. I about jumped out of my skin, thinking it was a bear, while Darlene thought it was the wood spirit coming to eat somebody. She grabbed onto me, about dragging me down to the creek! It turned out to be just her mother, thrashing her way through the rhododendron, her hair all messed up from getting it tangled up in the branches. She sort of looked like a haint for a minute! Darlene and I shrieked, and then, when we saw who it was, we nearly died laughing. How her mother got caught up in a rhododendron hell mystifies me! Once you get into those things, it is near impossible to get back out again. It would be like a wood spirit had got ahold of you. Mrs. Carlton jumped when she saw us, too, and she hollered out real loud, “Darlene! Pearl! How come you to be here?” Then we all had a good laugh over it.
January 13, 1932. Beryl caught a chill and so did not go to school today. Sardius and I left early because it takes me so much longer to walk in Mam-ma’s old boots, so we got to the ridge in time to watch the sun come up. Although it was freezing, we stopped and sat on a log to watch it blaze up as if the world were on fire. It was one of the prettiest mornings I have seen in a while, and just about freezing to death was worth it to see that sunrise.
Today, Miss Weston asked Sardius to stay behind after school. After everyone else left, Otis Merriweather hung about at the door fussing with his coat and gloves. I could tell he was waiting on me. He always likes to tell me goodbye at the end of the day.
Miss Weston wanted Sardius to stay for about an hour, but he did not want me to walk home alone in the cold. Then, guess what? Otis Merriweather jumped up and offered to walk me home! It was a good thing no one else was still in the room to see that. I would have been scundered to death! Miss Weston put her hands on Otis’ shoulders and told him to take good care of me and to be a gentleman, and Otis turned about a hundred shades of red, but he promised solemnly, which made me feel like a grand lady.
I am glad I got to walk with Otis. I have been thinking about how his uncles and cousins took care of his aunt when her husband beat her, and I wonder if there is a way we could stop Billy Ray from being so mean to Mrs. Carlton and Darlene. I cannot imagine my daddy and my Uncle Woodrow going over to teach Billy Ray a lesson, so I asked Otis if his family ever go take care of women outside their clan. He said, yes, they keep an eye out in all the communities around here for anything that needs to be taken care of, and you do not have to be in the clan, or even Scottish, for them to come to your aid.
We talked a long time, and I ended up telling him about how Billy Ray Carlton beat Darlene bloody with a strop and hit her in the face, and how he knocked Mrs. Carlton’s head against the kitchen stove, and he said he would talk to his uncle about getting his clan over there to knock some sense into Billy Ray. I felt much better after talking to him. Otis is about the nicest boy I know outside of my brothers, although he is a little rough sometimes. I hope his uncle and cousins can make sure Billy Ray leaves Darlene and her mother alone from here on out.
I went over to Darlene’s house to tell her about it, but no one was home.
January 14, 1932. Guess what happened yesterday? Arkansas just swore in the first woman to the U.S. Senate! Mrs. Hattie Caraway is actually from Tennessee, having been born and raised right here in our own Great State, so I know she will do an excellent job.
Miss Weston says that women do not belong in politics because they are exposed to too much ugliness, and on that she and Daddy agree. However, Miss Janey Jo, Mama, and I have different opinions. I hope Miss Hattie Caraway can do something to end this Depression we are in, and I am glad she is against ending Prohibition. If people can buy whiskey legally, then my business will be over, and I will be too plumb broke to buy new shoes for Easter. Miss Weston also is in favor of keeping prohibition, but for a different reason than I am! Ha ha! It is a good thing she will never see this version of my Journal.
Jasper caught Ralph Lee Bittertree peeping through Mama’s bedroom window this evening. He was just coming in from milking and found him with his face mashed right up to the glass and his hands cupped around his eyes. Jasper threw a rock at him, and he lit out through the woods. He did not see anything because Mama was in the kitchen at the time. She tacked up a quilt across her windows to keep that nosey Ralph Lee from peeping in again, and we will be sure to keep an eye out for him. I surely hope his daddy has not told him anything about my side business. He might have been peeping in to catch me at it. I would not be surprised if he sics the law on me.
This is all I have time to write. Darlene is coming over to spend the night again tonight, and I have to take Jake Hatton a pint of whiskey before she gets here. He has a friend who wants it. As much as I love Darlene, I think it is better if I do not take her along. I do not need her making fun of Jake Hatton. She gets to mocking him, and you should see her hippy-hopping, cussing and twitching, just exactly like he does. Now, neither one of us can keep a straight face when we see him.
January 15, 1932. A funny thing happened today. I was on my way to Darlene’s house and saw a big buck standing right out in the clearing by the creek, then he went moseying off into the woods, and I followed him. I sort of wish I had had a rifle with me, because I know I could have got him, and he would have made some fine eating, but I did not, so I had to content myself with just looking and following. He went over to beech grove, which is so pretty with the light coming though the leaves and turning the whole place into a glowing fairyland.
When I was coming through there, I saw Uncle Woodrow and Mrs. Carlton sitting on a log under the giant tree, and they were having the biggest time, laughing. Uncle Woodrow then stood up, took his hat off, took her hand, and bowed low, and she laughed again. I felt funny coming up on them like that, and I did not want them to think I was spying on them, so I eased back and went on over to Darlene’s. I keep going over in my mind about why they were sitting there laughing, and it makes me feel odd and a little scared. I bet that if Billy Ray Carlton could see that he would be fit to be tied.
I mentioned it to Darlene, but she just shrugged and said sometimes her mama likes to go for a walk in the woods alone, and maybe she just happened to come across Uncle Woodrow. I reckon that is what happened.
January 16, 1932. Daddy is home for today and tomorrow. He is not drinking as far as I can tell, but he seems dull, not at all like he usually is when he is sober. I hope he is not sick.
I did not see Darlene today. I wanted to go over to see her, but Mama up and decided that we young’uns should go spend the day with Pap-pa, and she shooed us out the door right after breakfast. She even let us take Ruby along. Jasper carried her on his shoulders most of the way.
I am glad we went, even though it seemed strange not to spend time with Daddy or with Darlene. We had a good time with Miss Janey Jo and with Pap-pa. Pap-pa and Jasper each whittled out a cross for Beryl and me to wear around our necks. Pap-pa’s was a little better, but not much. I let Beryl have that one to keep Jasper from feeling bad about not being as good a whittler as Pap-pa is. Sardius did not play with us much. He mostly sat by the fire and read his book. He is getting very serious about school these days.
Miss Janey Jo cooked up a great big dinner, then packed up the leavings for us to bring home, and then Pap-pa brought us back in his wagon. Daddy was looking more chipper when we got home, and we had a fun evening together.
January 17, 1932. Daddy did not go to church with us today. Instead, he stayed home and got drunk. You would think he would behave himself right after he begins his important new job. I am disgusted with him, and I hope he suffers from a terrible hangover all day at work tomorrow. I hope his boss does not notice, though. I would hate for him to get his walking papers so soon after he started his new job.
I am happy that he did not seem to notice that I have stolen a gallon of his whiskey.
Miss Weston preached on the Breastplate of Righteousness today. I am sure it was very good, but I was distracted because I kept thinking about Daddy and how disgusted I am with him. Mama looked glum all through the service, also. We went to Pap-pa’s for dinner, and Miss Weston came, also, and so did Uncle Woodrow, but it was not the same without Daddy. Everybody seemed quiet and sad.
January 17, 1932
Dearest Cecilia,
These long winter days are becoming quite dreary, and for the first time since I have been here, I find myself missing the bright society of our old friends. It would be such a pleasure to attend a party or a ball, to feel the crisp cold on a snowy day and enjoy hot chocolate with a group of rowdy young people! The cold here is damp, so that it gets into your bones and makes you chilled from the inside out.
The church service this morning was adequate, but I was less than inspired, and it showed. Afterwards, I had my usual Sunday dinner with the Aiken family, but everyone seemed quite glum. I tried to draw Mr. Woodrow out, even asking him to go for a walk with me, but he was uncommunicative and cut the walk short, saying he was cold and wanted to get back to the fire. I feel singularly distressed. He is a mysterious, lonely man! Breaking his barriers is more difficult than I thought it would be, but I will not give up trying. He is deserving of a happy life, and I believe that someday, I will be able to draw him out of his sorrow. Please pray for me, dear Cecilia! The house is cold and empty, and I am lonely and sad. I love and miss you.
Emily
January 18, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
At school we learned about the rotation and revolution of the earth around the sun. My teacher, Miss Weston, says that if we could see the earth from heaven as God sees it, it would look like a small, blue marble swimming in a black pond, filled with sparkling diamonds, which are all the stars. All the stars are suns, and to the planets revolving around them, they are bright, like our sun. Our sun is just one tiny speck of light when it is seen from far, far away.
It makes me happy to think that God is watching us from out in space, holding our little blue marble in the palm of His hand, breathing His life into it. Even though to Him we are tiny specks, even smaller than chiggers, He still loves us because we are His own children, and He knows about all our sorrows.
January 19, 1932. Jake Hatton was waiting down by the springhouse when I got home from school today. Of course, I blessed him out for coming so close to the house and risking people seeing him. He did not even apologize, but started twitching and hopping around, excited as all get-out. One of his friends needed some whiskey since the federals found his still and all six gallons of whiskey he had just made last week and busted it all up. They did not catch him, but now his important customers are in need, and he says if I will sell him just one gallon, he will pay me extra.
I asked him how much extra, and he said half again, but I felt a stubborn spell coming on, and I just crossed my arms and said, “double.” Jake about had a fit, but I would not budge. I figure anybody as desperate as he seemed would give in if I stood strong enough. Finally, he gave in, but when I told him he would have to pay me cash up front, he hemmed and hawed, cussed and twitched, then finally agreed to pay me half now and half at delivery, which will be tomorrow. He gave me $2.00, although he tried to cheat me by saying that there are only six pints in a gallon, but I told him I knew my arithmetic better than that, and I scratched out the numbers in the dirt with a stick. There are two pints to a quart, four quarts to a gallon. That means there are eight pints in a gallon, and at 50c per pint, that makes $4. I told him he had to pay me $2.00 now and $2.00 on delivery. He stood over my ciphering for a long time, muttering and jerking, then he tried to cheat me again by paying me mostly in nickels, dimes, and pennies so he could shortchange me. I am on to him, though, and I counted out every red cent right in front of him so that he had to pay me the whole $2.
Now, I feel like I have fought a great battle and won it, but I also am ascared. A gallon is a lot of whiskey to steal, and if Daddy is sharp when he comes home this Saturday, I may have to pay with my hide.
January 20, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
I have just heard the most terrible news about a situation over in Alcoa. One of the colored men living there caught a white man in a compromising position with his wife, and violence ensued. The white man was killed, and now the community is up in arms over it. The colored man is being held in jail, but there is talk of a lynching. I heard this from Ruth Halfacre, the other teacher here at the school, and we are trying to keep it concealed from the children, because we know this would frighten them.
Cecilia, I have to admit that I am terrified! I have heard about lynchings going on in the Deep South, but I never dreamed they could occur here in the mountains of Tennessee. People actually are suggesting that they might storm the jail, drag the poor man out, and hang him! I understand police have been sent over from Knoxville to help maintain order, and I am sure they will do their best, but the very possibility of such violence makes me quake.
Please pray for the situation here, Cecilia. I think of the poor child who is friend to Pearl. I think her name is Darlene. It is awful to think that she might be dragged into this somehow. Alcoa is some 20 miles away, but anger can flame up anywhere, once it has been ignited. Please pray for me, as well.
Love,
Emily
January 20, 1932. Today was just awful, and I feel terrible for poor Beryl. Since I am the oldest girl, I get new underwear whenever I outgrow mine, and Beryl has to make do with my old drawers and things. Today she had on a pair of my old step-ins, and halfway through the morning, when she was playing outside at recess, the elastic gave way and they fell down! Thank goodness they did not make it all the way to the ground. She caught them halfway with her knees as they dropped, but then she had to waddle to the outhouse with her knees mashed together to keep them up. I could see them drooping down below her dress, and her face was red as fire, so I ran over and walked behind her so no one could see what was going on. We made it to the outhouse all right, but the poor thing cried for the longest time. These step-ins are about as raggedy as they can be, and we both would die if anyone could see how poor they look. Mama would, too. Thank goodness we managed to hide them from everyone. She took them off and stuffed them in her pocket. I bet it was uncomfortable having to go through the rest of the day without any drawers on.
I wish it had happened to me and not to Beryl. I would have been scundered about it, but she was mortified. She ended up crying again all the way home, and she would not let me tell Sardius what had happened. He is so worried about her he is about beside himself. I think Mama may have let him in on it later, though, just to stop his hovering. Mama was very sweet about it. She says she will make Beryl all new drawers and throw these old ones away. They are ready for the ragbag, anyway, and she is sorry she made Beryl wear my old hand-me-downs in the first place.
I got my other $2.00 today! Instead of stealing four quart jars from Daddy’s stash behind the hay bales, I took just three and poured just a little from each of the other jars into a new jar. I am praying I do not get caught. Oh Lord, if you ever wanted to protect me, please do it now!
January 21, 1932. Guess what I did today? I ordered Beryl 7 new pairs of step-ins from the Sears & Roebuck! Darlene helped me pick them out. There are 7 different colors, one for each day of the week: pink, blue, turquoise, white, yellow, green, and tan. Darlene had the smart idea of having them sent to Pap-pa’s house so no one will see that I am getting a package.
It is good to have Darlene to trust with my secrets. She says she will help me if I ever decide to start making whiskey on my own. I wish she knew how to make it. That is the only thing that is holding us back.
I am feeling bad about keeping secrets from Mama, but she would not approve of my breaking the law. She very much believes in living an upright, respectable life. It is hard to hide the fact that I have money from her. I already am pushing my luck buying all those Christmas presents. If Mama figures out I have money to burn, she will also figure out where it likely came from. I will be sure to tell Pap-pa to save that package for me when it comes. Now I need to figure out how to get them to Beryl with no one suspecting that I bought them.
I also ordered Daddy a handsome, all-cotton handkerchief and a pair of bobbing floats for Jasper. Their birthdays are coming up. I should have ordered Sapphire something. It is her 3-month birthday.
January 23, 1932. When Daddy got home today, he had a black eye and his hand was bandaged up. He did not say anything other than the hobos are a rougher bunch than he had counted on. Mama looks worried, but Daddy laughed about it. He said he had had quite a time of it, but those hobos will not be back on his train. Then he announced that tonight is the full moon of the Wolf, and that he was going hunting. This is the first time he has even acted like he wanted to go hunting ever since Sapphire came to us, and even though Mama was not happy about it, she just said, “Well, be sure to dress warm.” Daddy left out right after supper.
He is out there now, along with Harvey Madison, Walt Bittertree, John Jay Breem, and a couple others of his cronies who go hunting with him. I can hear the hounds baying back and forth all over the hills, and I can hear the rifles going off. I can only imagine how drunk Daddy is getting. I wish I could just leave and run over to Pap-pa’s for the rest of the night.
Darlene did not come over today. I wish she was here now. I would like somebody to talk to, and Mama has already gone to bed. Beryl has, also. Jasper and Sardius are having their own conversation. I am very lonesome.
January 24, 1932. Today was a very big day. During the invitational, which was Jesus Gave it All, Sardius got up and walked down the aisle. He has dedicated his life to Jesus! Miss Weston was grinning so hard I thought her face would split in half. Mama cried, saying she had always hoped he would make a preacher. Jasper and Uncle Woodrow shook his hand and told him they were proud of him. Miss Weston looks as proud as if he were her son. I am proud of him, also. Sardius will make a good preacher, or a missionary, depending on what his calling will be. He always has been the kindest boy, and he loves to study the Bible.
What a wonderful, exciting day, except for the fact that Daddy did not have any part of it because he was too drunk to stand by the time he got home last night. I hope he is ashamed of himself, missing such an important part of his son’s life. After church, we all, including Miss Weston, went to Pap-pa’s for dinner and shared the good news. Miss Janey Jo looked tickled and hugged Sardius. Pap-pa did not look as pleased, but he shook his hand and said he was happy for him. Sardius is glowing like a new penny. Miss Weston is, too.
When we got home, Daddy was still drunk, but he was pitiful rather than mean. When we told him the news, he cried, then went to bed and passed out. I heard him in there weeping later on. He does not hardly ever cry when he is drunk, just those times when there has been a tragedy, like when my baby brother died two years ago right after he was born. I hope he does not think Sardius’ dedicating his life to Jesus is a tragedy.
January 24, 1932
Dear Mother and Father,
I have some wonderful news! I have written to you before about my favorite family here in the Cheola community—the Wallace family. Well, you will be very pleased to know that God is working here in a very big way. Today, their second to eldest son came forward during the alter call, to declare his calling to preach the Gospel! He says he made the decision because of my inspiration. He has shown himself to be a wise, dedicated student who loves the Lord with all his heart. Until recently, he did not realize he could have opportunities to expand his learning, but with my encouragement, he recognizes his own potential and wants to take advantage of it to help others come to know God.
You see, my efforts here are not wasted. Now that Sardius has made the leap to follow God, I know others will come forward. I am grateful that I have had some influence in this wonderful event! I hope you are, too.
Much love,
Emily
Cold, gray waxing days, frozen nights.
I have been dancing with the Great Orb for days
Lost in the splendor of her light,
In the frenzy of her lust,
In the ecstasy of mine.
Her light shines through the darkness;
Cold heat, mingling with the stars.
My upright children are a confusion
Of joy and pain, of relief and weight.
But the Spirit smiles on all
As the Darkness sits sullen.
January 25
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
My brother Sardius has dedicated his life to Jesus! I am very proud of him. He says he will be a preacher or a missionary, depending on what God calls him to do. I hope he is a missionary because I want to be one also, and we can go to Africa or India and serve God together. It will be very much fun to lead people into the Path of Righteousness and to see them be saved and baptized. I cannot wait until we can do that.
My mother and father are very proud of Sardius, also, and so are my Pap-pa and my step-grandmother. We had a nice time yesterday, celebrating God’s blessings and helping Sardius plan for his future.
January 26, 1932. Today, Miss Weston got a big surprise. She was teaching the eighth-graders their History lesson, and we seventh graders were working on pictures we were drawing of the Universe. I was trying to figure out just where Heaven might be, when all of a sudden, the door flew open and the best-looking man I ever saw in my life stood in the doorway. He was tall, with soft, black hair, white skin and pink cheeks, wearing the most beautiful coat made of fine wool, a dashing gray fedora, and a long, white wool scarf. He looked just like a movie star, with big, white teeth and flashing eyes!
Miss Weston was writing on the blackboard when he came in, and she turned around, dropped her chalk, and went as white as a ghost. Then she turned red, got a mad look on her face and marched right up to him, grabbed his arm, and walked him out the door without saying anything to us. We all tried not to look, but of course none of us could resist, and we rushed to the window to peep out at them. It was hard to keep quiet the whole time they were outside. I know Miss Weston was freezing because she did not have on her coat, but they must have been out there at least ten minutes. When she finally came back in, she was nearly blue from the cold, but she did not say a word. She just went back up to the blackboard, picked up her chalk, and finished writing the word, “diaspora,” which she had only gotten halfway through when she had been interrupted.
After school, she asked Sardius, Beryl, and me to stay for a minute, and when Otis Merriweather fooled around in the back of the room pretending to be looking for something after everyone else left, she said to him, “Otis, you might as well leave now. You will not have a chance to speak to Pearl this afternoon,” and he turned bright red and scurried out the door.
Then Miss Weston turned red herself, cleared her throat, and finally stammered out, “I have a visitor who came unannounced, and it will be difficult to find accommodations. I hate to ask this of you, but do you suppose your grandfather might be able to host him for the night? I assure you he will be leaving first thing in the morning.”
We were dumbfounded. Miss Weston lives in Preacher Miller’s house, one of the prettiest in this section of the country, and it is plenty big, especially now that the Millers have gone to Florida for the winter. I wanted to ask her why her guest did not stay at her house. In these parts, you do not turn away company who has come from far away to visit, but Sardius jumped right in and said, “Of course, Miss Weston, I am sure our grandfather will be happy to offer accommodations for the night.”
I nearly guffawed at the way he said it. Beryl did giggle, but I gave her a little shove and she quit.
Then, the most amazing, wonderful thing happened. Miss Weston took us outside and put us in her very own automobile! The man who had come to the schoolhouse was sitting in his automobile, a very fancy, shiny one, and he looked about near frozen to death. When we came out, he jumped out, and Miss Weston just said, “Follow me,” to him, and she got into her automobile and drove us to Pap-pa’s house.
Miss Janey Jo met us at the door, and she was as nice as could be and brought coffee and hot chocolate so we could warm up, and we all sat in the front room until Pap-pa came in. Then Miss Weston said, “Mr. Aiken, I am in a very difficult position, and I must beg your indulgence. My acquaintance, Mr. Dean, has arrived unexpectedly, and we are having trouble finding accommodations for him. May I throw myself upon your mercy and beg a bed for him for the night?”
Of course Pap-pa said yes right away, and he asked Miss Weston to stay for supper, but she said, no, she had to get us home, and she shooed us out the door and into her automobile without even looking at Mr. Dean again. Then she drove us straight home without saying another word to us.
What a strange adventure! I think Mr. Dean did not get the reception he was expecting to get when he barged into that schoolroom. I bet she was mad at him for coming because she is struck on Uncle Woodrow and she did not want Uncle Woodrow to know she had another suitor.
January 26, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
I have been through a most embarrassing incident. This afternoon, Jonathan showed up at the schoolhouse unannounced! He did not warn me he was coming—apparently he left in the middle of the night and drove straight here, and then just appeared at the door, expecting me, no doubt, to be pleased. I nearly died! My students saw everything, and I am certain word will get around that I have had a man come calling for me, made especially bad because I am now living alone in the Miller house.
Of course, I could not let him even darken the door of the Miller home, so I made him sit out in the freezing cold while I finished the day’s lessons. Then I put the Wallace children in my car and instructed Jonathan to follow me to the Aiken home, where I begged a room for him for the night. The Aikens were very gracious, taking him in with open arms and a great deal more sympathy than I had for him. I did not even tell him goodbye. I just took the children home and came back here for the night. I hope that is that last I see of Jonathan Dean. The nerve of that man!
I hope the Aikens did not let him know that the Millers are not at home for the winter. If word gets back to Father, I shall be in a world of trouble. Surely, they would not tell him. They are very discreet. It is midnight, and I am still so upset I cannot get to sleep. I hope he has realized that I will not allow my position to be compromised by his unwanted advances and that he leaves tomorrow without attempting to see me again.
Your distressed, but loving sister,
Emily
January 27, 1931
Jonathan:
I do not know what you had hoped to accomplish by arriving at my place of work uninvited and unannounced. Did you not realize that your appearance would compromise my position here in the community? As an unmarried woman, I must live absolutely above reproach, and to have a man from out of town come and expect to stay overnight is anathema to my reputation. How dare you take such a cavalier attitude with my good name? It would have been bad enough if you had come only to my home, but you allowed all my students to see you, which means that word is already all over this community that I have been entertaining a strange man. I can only hope that the Aikens will do what they can to mitigate the damage you have done to me.
What on earth made you think you would be welcomed by showing up like that? Do you have no consideration for my feelings, for my reputation? I am violently upset at your behavior, and I expect a letter of apology both to me and to the Atkins family who were so generous to put you up for the night.
Emily Weston
January 29, 1932. I missed 2 days of school because I had a cold, and I sure was glad to be going back today! Mama dosed me with so much garlic that I cannot stand myself. She made me swallow 3 buds this morning before we left. I hate to admit it, but that must have worked, because I could feel my cold leaving me as we walked across the ridge this morning. I felt perfectly fine all day.
Darlene and I had a fun time this afternoon. We made popcorn during our French lesson, then read by the fire until it was time to start supper. Mrs. Carlton has the prettiest singing voice. She sang to us while Uncle Woodrow played Daddy’s banjo, and it was such a good time. Billy Ray can just stay away. Everyone is so much happier when he is gone.
January 30, 1932. Daddy started drinking as soon as he got home today. It is 4 o’clock and he is still at it. Mama is in the bedroom crying. Sapphire has been squalling all day, too. I have done nothing but tend to Ruby and try to put some food on the table, and Beryl has been too mopey to be much help. Jasper and Sardius have been out chopping wood and mending the fence where one of the dogs chewed a hole in it. Uncle Woodrow is nowhere to be found. I have not seen Darlene. It is a miserable, cold day.
January 31, 1932. We all went to church today, except for Daddy, who is nursing a hangover. Everyone is gloomy except for Sardius, who was happy to be going to church. Usually church cheers me up, too, but today Mama seemed so blue that it was hard to get my spirit in a good mood.
I gave Pap-pa some whiskey today and asked him to buy Mama a sack of cornmeal instead of paying me. Her birthday is coming up next month, and I think it is better to give her something she can really use instead of getting her something just for pretty. I would like to get her something pretty, but I know she will appreciate good cornmeal more. She is like that. She cares more about her family than she does herself. We have about run out on account of Daddy stealing a good bit of our corn crop to make whiskey last summer.