Visionary Betty

Shortly after our first child, Ken, was born in February 1950 I went off to graduate school at Penn State. In the past week I find that I am inordinately glad of that fact. I have found a small suitcase full of letters which we wrote back and forth that year. As a matter of fact there are numerous such letters from B. Clarkson to James R. Taylor which were sent to me in Cincinnati, OH just after we were engaged and I was studying at the University there the summer of 1948. There are also letter from Harriet (that was what I first knew her as and what I continued to use in personal contact) Taylor to James R. [Her family called her Betty to distinguish her from her Granny, Harriet, and her Grandma Clarkson - Lizzie.] Most every body else called her Betty and she was somewhat more comfortable with that name when addressed by others. The point is I have those letters now to bring me closer to her in my time of sorrow.

One I read today is particularly remarkable. It was written November 29, 1950. She talks about picking up “a couple of those house plans at the bank the other day. There was a wonderful few hours of dreaming. Someday -- maybe one like this. This one is mostly windows-particularly the Living room. A nice fire place, big windows, a compact kitchen, and a possible 3 bedrooms, and the big terrace makes it attractive. Pick us a Sate, a county, a city, and here we go.” What is so remarkable is that in November 1964 we were in Montana, in Yellowstone County, and in the city of Billings when we actually bought that house. Fourteen years later. There it is, above. Taken October 9, 2005 with family visiting as we celebrated Betty’s 80th birthday, my 81st, Paul’s and Louise’s 10th Anniversary and Jim and Cec’s 20th Anniversary. Along with Pete, Lisa’s and Cecilia’s birthdays also in October.

Concert

Some how or other there is supposed to be a picture here. I've just looked at the 'Preview" and indeed it is there twice. This is at Pioneer Park and is a picture of part of the thousands who were at the Symphony in the Park yesterday in Billings. Pete tells me that he was down near the yellow tent. I never would have found him as I was way up above. The picture was taken with the telephoto option. I didn't stay much because I saw no one I know and could enjoy the concert with, and the first number really sounded like the Orchestra was still warming up. That is probably a poor thing to say just because it wasn't what I was expecting to hear, but that was the impression I was getting. At any rate I had to park at least a half mile from the Park and just went on back to the car and went on home to read, and to watch Becker at 9:30 pm. Then the news and then to bed.

I'm reading Tim Russert''s latest book with notes from many people giving their memories of their fathers. My last memory of my father who died while I was in Basic Training in 1943. He was 59. The last thing I remember his saying at the depot as we prepared to leave was some regret about sending his twin sons off to war, bu that one "must render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's.

Letters

Wonder of wonders! I have been cleaning out the garage trying to decide what might be eligible for a garage sale, and what could be thrown in the trash. In the process I have come across a small overnight case which is full of letters from the past. I found one set that I wrote to Betty from Cincinnati right after we were engaged. I had gone to do some grad study at the University to support my teaching at Marshall. That was 58 years ago this July. I also came across an invitation to my ordination to the Christian Ministry on June 27, 1958 That is tomorrow - 48 years ago. I remember saying once to Betty that she should not be surprised if she woke up some day and found that she was married to a preacher and not a teacher. It took 3 years as an Instructor in Psychology at Marshall, 1 1/2 years of graduate study at Penn State and 4 years as a Clinical Psychologist in Iowa before I answered that call and enrolled at Andover-Newton Theological School. A quick look at the letters show that she was a regular correspondent while I was at Cincy, and when she was staying with her parents while I was at Penn State. Later when she was able to visit family and I had to stay on the job we wrote our love to each other often and with passion. I’ve been able to read some of the letters today, and will look them over from time to time. I suspect that my sense of organization will find me organizing them into some sort of “time frame”. It didn’t help my composure this afternoon when I read Tim Russert’s paragraphs about his mother’s death just a few months before Betty died. At least he and his siblings had a chance to tell her good-bye.

South Pacific

Several weeks ago I caught the tail end of a Carnegie Hall Concert presentation of South Pacific with Reba McIntire, Brian Stokes Mitchell and Alex Baldwin in lead roles. It was delightful and I learned that it would be out on DVD in June. The original production was apparently done in June 2005. Well, I finally tracked it down and last night (6/21/06) I watched it. It is certainly worth the price of admission, but I never thought that an old Rogers and Hammerstein musical would bring tears to my eyes. Two songs in particular caught me right in the heart. “Some Enchanted Evening.” Find a stranger - no. But an enchanted evening, yes! We ate supper at Grandmother Taylor’s house with a bunch of relatives including Aunt Bertha who, as we left to go to Church that Sunday evening, assured me that the family found her “likable”. “We like her, Jim,” she said. When I took her home we sat on the porch and when the fire whistle blew we somehow had to go out and find the fire. It was a lumber yard in the next town. When we got back we talked some more and when I finally kissed her I blurted out: “You are going to marry me, aren’t you?” That was in July and we were married the following April. “When you have found her, never let her go.” That lasted for over 54 years, but she is gone. Gone from this life, but not from my heart.

The second song was near the end of the second act when Emile sings “This Nearly Was Mine.” “One love to be living for, one girl for my dreams, one partner in paradise” Yes. If there is paradise we had to have a share of it. But then the words sung is deep sorrow: “Close to me heart she came, only to fly away. Now I am alone still dreaming of paradise.”

The play, of course, ends well and Emile and Nellie are together. I’m sure that I’ll have more to say about eternity some time in the future.

MARYLAND VISITORS

Interesting past few days. Last Saturday we met brother Lee and his wife, Irene, at the airport. They had flown in from the Baltimore-Washington International (BWI) airport to Billings. The two hour time delay has been with them all week. Since they plan to be here only for one week they don’t seem to be inclined to adjust to Mountain Time. Sunday evening our Mark and Rosanna (nephew) invited all to their place for a cookout. A number of my own children were in town to visit with their distant relative so there was a nice crowd out on Blue Creek. Jim and Cec with Natalie were in from Dickinson, ND; Annie and Bill were here from over in Powder River County (130 miles to the East); and Ken came down late from Helena MT. Pete, of course, lives here in Billings with me. In addition brother John and Jean were with us along with their daughter, Lisa and her husband, Dennis. It was a good family gathering.

Monday many of us were able to go visit the new Visitor’s Center at Pompey’s Pillar which is about 40 miles east of Billings. Most of them climbed the stair case past William Clark’s signature and some to the top of the sandstone rock pillar which Clark named. On Tuesday John and Jean took the Marylanders to the Big Horn Battlefield where Custer met his demise. That evening was able to take them out to the Feedlot Restaurant in Shepherd which is about 20 miles from my driveway. Betty and I had taken Sister Dorothy Ann and Edward there a few years ago.

I’m looking forward to being with the visitors tomorrow and showing them some of Billings which is now over 100,000 population. It was interesting seeing in the Huntington WV newspaper this morning that the hometown is losing population and is now around 49,000.

Memories

Every once in a while someone will say something to me that reminds me of how much Betty meant to them and why. I have no reason to be surprised that her life touched so many. Usually it was because of the joy she had in living. Yesterday a former collegue in the Psych Department at Rocky simply stated that when we finishing a brief visit. Linda simply said: “I truly miss Betty. You know, the kind of person it was fun to be with.” Last week a young mother from the Church told me that it was Betty who first made her feel welcome. Another friend wrote after I had given a donation in honor of her mother who was also a long time friend of ours. Bonnie wrote: “She always loved you and Betty and loved to work in the kitchen with Betty. She would often remark that Betty was always singing and happy . . . .” That, of course, called to mind that the kitchen wasn’t the only place she sang. She was constantily hummning or “singing” as we walked through the Mall or the grocery store. I wasn’t always accepting of that wondering what other people would think. Now I know.

I looked, again, through the over 100 cards people sent after her death. Many of them spoke of how open and loving she was to them and how much it meant to them. A good friend from politics wrote: “Kindness radiated from her, Jim. She as kind and sweet and supportive and I never fel anything negative coming from Betty. Never.” Another spoke of how she always had a smile.

Son, Jim, had a T-Shirt with her picture on it. I haven’t been up to wearng it yet. But his note with the gift is testimony to her humor. “When I asked Mom about making a t-shirt for you, she said to make it an x-large so that she would not be stretched.” And then he commented to what we all have experienced: “She will be missed greatly.”

Joke

It’s an oldie, but I found it the other day in a file labeled Eucunet Jokes. It was worth a new laugh, at least for me. Enjoy. You don’t have to pass it on or else.


Mahatma Gandhi walked everywhere barefoot, and so his feet were quite thick
and hard. He also was a very spiritual person. Because of his many hunger
strikes, he was very thin and frail. Furthermore, due to his poor diet, he
wound up with very bad breath. Therefore, Gandhi came to be known as a....
(are you ready?)

"Super callous fragile mystic plagued by halitosis."

Sociable Jim

Well, maybe not to socialble. Breakfast this a.m. with brother John"s family -Jean, Mark, Lisa, Rosanna, after which we had a delightful slide show of photos taken during John and Jean's recent trip to the great southwest. It is good to see them home after more than a month of absence.

This afternoon daughter Annie with husband Bill came in and we went to dinner at the Golden Corral. Before that I made a necessary appearance at the Church as a long time couple celebrated a wedding anniversary, the birth of their daughter and the wedding anniversary of their, I think, grandson. After dinner I drove the 34 miles out to Joliet, MT for the 50th wedding anniversary of a long time collegue at Rocky Mountain College. Jim McDowell and wife Roberta (Bert) have been good friends for many years as Betty and I joined with them in a Faculty Bridge Club sometime ago. Jim tells me that he is on the schedule for next year, but does not yet have a contract. He believes that the new administration is trying to get older faculty to retire in an effort to cut the budget.

Many of the people present at the McDowell function were not only their children, but numerous Rocky Students who were also students and advisees of mine. It was great seeing many of them again. Bill Hope always tells me that I was the first person he met on campus. He showed up in the office and I was stitting there with my legs stretched out on the desk drawer. 'I'm Bill Hope" he said; and allegedly said to him: "Hello! Where have you been? I've been waiting for you." And that I had his file on the desk at the time. It is good to be long-time appreciated. Others greeted me warmly as an old friend and not as a former Dean or Administrator.

I didn't stay at many of these functions long, but it has been satisfying to have been in attendance.

Pussycats

Another think that both Feller and Bednarik mentioned in their talks was the currrent state of todays so-called athletes. I have, myself, often wondered how any body who is paid as much as many of those guys are paid could be so often on the DL (disabled list). Now a football player plays either offense or defense. Bednarik went both ways. Sometimes a guy will be paid well for appearing only on "special teams": kickoff or punt return. Bednarik went both ways. Feller usually pitched a full game without relief. Nowadays we have pitchers who are "good" if they go a full seven innings. A player strains a muscle sliding into base or reaching for a fly in some unnatural way and he's out for a few days or longer. How is it that Cal Ripkin could set a record of games started and today's "stars" aren't apt to come near it. They don't take good care of themselves in the off season and they still demand high salaries whether they are capable or not. The owners are nuts to keep them, and the players union is out of line to support the woosies. As one of the guests suggested: to much pay and to little play.

Incredible Night

Last night was incredible. My nephew, Mark, invited me to attend a fund raiser dinner for an organization of which he is President - PLUK, Parents Let’s Unite for Kids. It is a program designed basically to help parents and teachers deal effectively with kids who are in some way “handicapped”. When I got there Mark took me to the “head table” where the two speakers were seated. One of these men I have known of it seems forever. Bob Feller began to pitch baseball with the Cleveland Indians while I was still in college. During WW 2 he entered the U.S.Navy. He was chief of an anti-aircraft crew on the USS Alabama. After the war he went back to Cleveland and continue to make his mark in Major League Baseball as “Rapid Robert” until his retirement in 19516. By that time I had my Master’s Degree and had moved to Iowa, Feller’s home state, and from there on to Seminary in Massachusetts. Feller not only knew of Marshall (my alma mater), but also knew that a movie of a tragic airplane accident involving the football team was being produced. The man is in his late 80’s and still sharp. The second speaker was Chuck Bednarik. I had heard the name, but was unaware of one of his famous tackles as he played for the Philadelphia Eagles. I introduced myself to him as “Jim Taylor”, and got an appreciative response. Sorry, but you will have to read the following to understand that.

"With the Eagles leading the Packers 17-13 late in the game, Bart Starr moved the Packers down the field. The ball was on the Eagles 22 when Starr threw a swing pass to Taylor, who was heading to the end zone.

"Enter Bednarik. At 35, he was the oldest player on the field. But even after playing 58? minutes and leaving the frozen field only for his team's kickoffs, Bednarik still had enough left to get to Taylor. "He got through a couple of our defenders," Bednarik said, "but he had to go through me. That wasn't going to happen."

"Bednarik met Taylor at the nine-yard line, and in the words of sportswriter Bill Lyon, "wrestled him to the cold, hard ground like a rodeo cowboy bulldogs a steer and then sat on the squirming, seething Taylor until the clock blinked down to all zeroes."

Bednarik punctuated the moment with a verbal exclamation point, telling Taylor, "You can get up now, Jim. The game's over." It was the Eagles' last NFL championship and the only time Vince Lombardi lost a title game as head coach."

For his whole career Bednarik played both ways and was often known as “Concrete Charlie” It was a delight to sit beside his wife, Emma with Chuck on the other side. Both of these guys were there to make money for PLUK. They were down to earth essentially humble every day guys

Thanks, Mark, for a great evening.

WATER PROBLEMS

I've played around with ideas from time to time the last few days about something which might be worth putting on this Blog, but have tended to reject all of them. Today my dear niece wrote of a potential water tragedy at their home when the water hose on the washing machine broke while they slept. The noise of running water did not attract enough suspicion until things had gotten pretty much soaked. For one thing she commented how the newly laid and admired laminate was now squishy and would likely need to be replaced. It reminded me of the time I was out of town and Pete came by early one morning to pick up the paper and found that a hose at the bathroom sink was split and water had soaked the run and through the floor to basement. The tiles on the ceiling of the lower bathroom had been “washed” away. At the time I though of replacing the bathroom run with laminate until I read somewhere how unwise it would be to put laminate where it might get wet. The rug was dried and then left in the garage for a time until I finally decided that it didn’t look that bad and it may as well go back in its place. After all it had already be cut to fit around the toilet and the lavatory cabinet. How glad I am that Pete decided to come by in the morning on his way to a work out rather than after he had been to 24/7.

Another interesting bit had to do with Betty. A picture of the daughter of the Art professor who worked with her as she was into clay was in the paper the other day. My almost immediate thought was to cut it out and send it to her. Unfortunately heaven doesn't have either an 800 number or a Box Number and Zip code.

Another graduate

A number of years ago I asked my Cardiologist to keep me alive at least until my first grandchild graduated from high school. That would be Stephanie who has now graduated from College and was married last month. Since then her brothers, Christopher, Nathan, and this year Geoff, have all graduated from high school. The first two are all but finished with thier Bachelor's degrees. Andrew has graduated and Brandon graduated last year. Betty and I were able to attend Stephanie, Chris, Andrew and Brandon'sgraduations. I have just returned from Dickinson, ND following Jonathan's graduation. He and Geoff are the latest of the 7 who have crossed that line. That leaves Larry for next year, Natalie in three years, and Will's three to follow. Since the families are scattered from ND, TX, OR and WA we thought that if we got to one in a family that that would be the goal. That has been pretty much accomplished now except for the three in Portland. Who is to know if Grandfather will still be around when Caleb hits the boards. Much less Luke and Zack.

Anyway, I'm proud of them all, and I'm sure that Betty has told everyone in heaven what joy she shared with them all, even as she told all the nurses who tended to her in those last two weeks.

Memory Lane

Last night it was Memory Lane. I began the evening watching the Boston Red Sox at home against Tampa Bay. When in Seminary at Andover Newton I was able on a few occasions to go to Fenway Park and watch the Sox. I vaguely remember watching Ted Williams. My full intention was to watch “Lincoln Center Live” from 8 pm to 10 pm. Of course there were moments I could flash back to Boston as the Sox won. Then there was the opening round of basketball. That didn’t demand much attention until the final minute or so.

The really significant memory of the whole night had to do with the music. In the opening piece Zubin Mehta was conducting and Pavoratti as singing. They were doing a collage of numbers from the past 30 years and both of these gentlemen were young. I first saw Mehta direct the Los Angeles Symphony in Seattle probably in the early - mid 70’s. He conducted that group from 1962 to 1978. I don’t remember what they played, but I do remember the excitement with which he conducted. It was still there as he was involved in a number of the presentations last night. On leaving LA Mehta went on to conduct the New York Philharmonic for many years.

Then there was one of Betty’s favorite artists, James Galway. He introduced his selection as being by the outstanding composer, Mr. Traditional, and then proceeded to play a very beautiful rendition of “Danny Boy”. As he stated: A lot of guys could wish they had composed it. I could only wish that Betty was hearing it all. If I ever had any question of what to get her for some special occasion Galway would do the trick.

Later in the program Leonard Bernstein was presented conducting Aaron Copeland. Again I can remember being at the Tanglewood Music Festival in the summer of 1947 and hearing the Boston Symphony under the direction of Serge Koussivitsky play Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Late in the concert a young Bernstein was presented and while I don’t remember what he conducted I do remember that this was very early in his career. Mehta, Galway, Pavoratti, Bernstein. Who needs baseball or basketball?

Weather

Cold and windy today in Billings, MT. I guess that it would'nt be cold if it were not windy. I just looked at the web page of the Billings Gazette and it listed the temp as 69 degrees. For a lark I checked the Huntington , WV Herald Dispatch and in my old home town it is 70 degrees. We are having off and on traces of rain. Huntington is listed as 'warm and sunny". I'd still rather live in the Yellowtone River Valley than the Ohio River Valley.

Flowers

I've been thinking "flowers" this week. Of course there are the dandelions. It seemed to me for many years when RMC had graduation at the end of May that the campus was appropriately decorated with the College colors of green and gold. I seem to have more this year than in the past. Perhaps because I'm not spraying them and thus killing the grass as well. Better a bit of gold than those brown spots.

What started this was a look across the street mid-week. There is a large spirea bush which is in full bloom. When I was growing up back in West Virginia those bushes were all over town. Dad had three or four of them in front of the porch and we knew that Spring had arrived when they came in bloom. Last fall I cut my three rose bushes in the front yard back to the ground. They have renewed themselves and are showing some buds in promise of flowers later. The tulips have long since come and gone, but the guys next door still have some in bloom. With the sprinkler system put in a couple of years ago the front yard (a hill) now has a healthy growth of grass. For many years it was next to impossible to get enough water on it to keep the lower parts toward the sidewalk green.

History

An interesting bit of Billings history in this morning’s paper. It seems that about a year before our house was built there was a plane crash apparently right in this area of town. Of course in December 1945 the College subdivision was not yet. Today’s paper indicates that the crash was in the 800-900 block of what is now Harvard Avenue. This house sits at 917 Harvard. The area then was a large field. I’ve seen pictures of this part of town taken in relation to Billings Polytechnic Institute (now Rocky Mountain College). The pictures show an area from the campus at 1500 Poly Drive to 5th Street and from Poly Drive to the rimrocks (an area of about 8-10 blocks) as nothing but farm land. This particular subdivision was built in 1946 and later. I'm not sure when the "Poet's Subdivision" east of us came into existence.

The plane was some sort of military flight and a number of soldiers were killed. While none of the men were citizens of Billings the local American Legion is placing a plaque in remembrance this coming September at the flagpole located on the corner of Poly Drive and 13th Street.

Incidentally, when Betty and I first moved to Billings in 1961 13th Street between Poly Drive and Rimrock Road was known as Iowa. This completed the names of the various streets and avenues in the College Subdivision. Streets running north and south beginning with 9th: Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, Illinois and Iowa. Avenues from Poly Drive and running East and West: Harvard, Princeton, Yale. Poly Drive named, of course for the Polytechnic Institute which took up residence on the current campus around 1908. But that it a whole other story.

Housework

I laid around in bed yesterday morning and didn’t make it to Church. I started to say “didn’t make it to Worship”, but I do that on my own anyway. Actually the format of our standard morning service is pretty loose with a 30-40 minute sermon, and quiet piety is not the order of the day. My main purpose anymore is to greet friends of long standing who I am not apt to see otherwise. At any rate, as I mentioned to Pete - I wasn’t going on Mother’s Day as a way of “protecting” myself. Annie has mention how much the ads have kept reminding her that she has no one now to shop for. And I have enough experiences every day that remind me of her absence.

For example, today I defrosted the freezer in the basement. A job that probably had not been done for several months. Betty most often did that. The thing was filled with Lean Cuisine and Healthy Choice. Things I have bought often as I have found them on sale. I also found a plastic keeper which was filled with some sort of treat. An Oatmeal menage with a chocolate cover. And there is a sheet cake which I may take with me along to Jon’s graduation so that the North Dakotans can share in some of the last of Gramma’s baking.

The job of carrying stuff upstairs to the refrigerator and getting the Kooler out of the garage made for more trips up and down than usual. The heart is doing better than the knees. I saw an old friend at the grocers today. He looked older than I do, and tells me that he has been diagnosed with diabetes.

God bless us everyone.

Waffles Again

Nephew Mark asked about Saturday breakfast the other night and I invited him and family over for Sour Dough waffles. I had been renewing my starter so was ready for a bit of company. Actually I had set the batter mid-week and put most of it aside as a one cup and a two cup starter. (More about that later)

Mark,Rosanna, and Ambrose showed up around 9:30 and I was ready for them with fresh coffee and the first waffle hot off the griddle. I'd gone earlier to the store to get some syrup since I was almost out, but Rosanna brought a bottle along so mine didn't need to be opened this time. Everybody declared that the waffles were very good and didn't need any pecans, blueberries or any other decoration. Good thing. I didn't have any. They really were good and we had a good visit for the balance of the morning.

I've had this particular starter since 1966. It claims to be original from Sour Dough Jack of Alaskan fame. Anyway it has traveled to Texas and I gave some to Granddaughter, Stephanie to take back with her to Minnesota. Mark declared that he has no been able to keep one for very long. I was showing him the jelly/jam jars I store mine in and found that it is indeed "alive". Both starters had continued to work in the refrigerator and had spilled over to the shelf. The two cup was really working. When I took them out to clean up and ran some hot water over the jars they cleaned up a bit. I decided to relieve some of the pressure and tried to remove the lid. It wouldn't budge. I put it in the jar opener to no avail. I finally took a screwdriver and lifted up the lid when it promptly exploded and shot batter all over the kitchen window. Thank goodness I was at that place instead of in the center of the living room. Never had that happen before. The two cup is gone, but easily replaced the next time if decide to bake.

It has indeed been a good, eventful day.

The Old Man

This old guy was up every three hours last night. I keep thinking that it won't be smart to become dehydrated. The only problem is that I need to time the drinking to earlier in the day. Anyhoo! I went back to bed each time and managed to go on back to sleep. That, in itself, hasn't always been easy these past few months. The last time up was around 6:30 a.m. Do I stay up, get dressed and have breakfast or do I go back under the covers. (It's been pretty cool in Billings this month.) I go back to bed and the next think I know it is 8:45, Pete has long since gone to Albertson's, and I better get up, take my morning meds and have that breakfast so I can be ready for my chicken sandwich for lunch. This evening I have been invited by Mark to go to the Parents Lets Unite for Kids (PLUK) event where they promise "heavy hors d'ourves."

The Chicken Sandwich demaned a trip to the store for Mircle Whip so I get the three M's that we need. Margine, Mircle Whip and Marmalade. I forgot the tomato. Ugh!

A World of Seeming:

Every once in a while I turn my thoughts to the question of Eternity. I've just been listening to a recording made in 1972 of Betty singing the first verse of "How Great Thou Art". It is extraordinary! Such a beautiful young voice. She resisted singing solo in later years because of a feeling that her voice was no longer strong enough. If she is now singing in some heavenly choir they are one lucky group of people.

I ran across the following poem the other day when I was seeking the one found on the immediate previous Blog. How about that line? "The sun sets daily, but sets never." If God is indeed the same yesterday, today and forever, and if we share His immortaity that must mean that those who have gone before us in death still share with us in that "eternal now" in ways we on earth do not share with them. It may only "seem" to us that they are gone. Their lives "set", but "set never". Yet there are tears of sweet remembrance. "It is a world of seeming. And so it seems that she is dead, Yet so seems only; for instead,
Her life is just begun; and this - Is but an empty chrysalis While she, unseen to mortal eyes, Now wins her way in brighter skies - Beyond this world of seeming.

A World of Seeming:
It is a world of seeming:
The changeless moon seems changing ever,
The sun sets daily, but sets never.
So near the stars and yet so far;
So small they seem, so large they are;
It is a world of seeming.
And so it seems that she is dead,
Yet so seems only; for instead,
Her life is just begun; and this -
Is but an empty chrysalis
While she, unseen to mortal eyes,
Now wins her way in brighter skies -
Beyond this world of seeming.
            - H. A. Blood in the Century.

DAILY NEBRASKA STATE JOURNAL, LINCOLN, SUNDAY 5 JUNE 1887