Details
Tilden Building
105 W. 40th St. Near Broadway
New York
Sunday, March 31, 1913
Mother, dear -
After all our controversy and correspondence here I am of a Sunday afternoon sitting at Aunt Julia’s desk and writing to you instead of sitting at your desk and writing to Aunt Julia. When your telegram came last night, it delighted the heart of the telegraph operator at Easton so much that he had to talk to Dad about it for half an hour or so before he told what it said “It’s the first telegram from the flood-district to come in to this office, and I received it myself”, he said. I left a sadly demoralized college, so to speak, on Friday. Girls by the score were receiving telegrams “On no account, try to come home. Remain at college”. “Do not attempt under any circumstances to travel west.” “Stay East, do not endeavor to travel.” Even girls living in Massachusetts received news of wash-outs and were forced to go home by way of N.Y. or not at all. One of my very dear friends, Molly Dawner, 1916, Lives in Dayton, a block from where the first levee broke, six houses from the river and up to the present time
I expected as much as anything to take the Thursday night Wolverine, but Mrs. Lillinghurst “required communication with one’s family before permission to travel West is given”. I called Dad up and he said not to try it, but to come to N.Y. - so I took what I supposed was the 9:55, but in reality was a special made up at Chatham, for service return. Poughkeepsie and Albany was out of business. Syracuse was unattainable, etc. etc. Uncle Joe met me at the station and then I went to lunch at Browne’s Chop House with Dad, Uncle Joe and Uncle Will. After that, Dad and I went to Oppenheimer and got me a darling suit-hat for $8.50. It is Alice Blue straw lined with black satin and with a wide piece of black velvet starting on the right winding up in front as per diagram and finishing in back with a flat bow under the narrow brim. A silly little wreath of flowers is chasing around the crown. It’s a little hat,