PECULIAR LETTER

The following paragraph was written by Gladys on the envelope of the following letter that he called the Peculiar Letter.
This was written 9/13/1912. we were married exactly 1 year later, after 6 years elapsed. I was 19 and he was 25 at that time. We lived together 58 contented and happy years. Two daughters were our family. They are now Lena Strong and Evelyn Bersaglia. William or Bill was 83 years old when he passed away August 3, 1971.

Mrs. Wm. Owens, formerly
Miss. Gladys Smith
Hindman, Ky.

Dwarf, Ky.
9/13/12

In answer to your most highly prized missine I can only say I was enthused and enraptured as I proused over those pages of fitful Love, Oh! may it increase and never die.

Here’s my story, the one I fancy in my own mind so much.

Jan. 1, 1912, six years gone by. I awoke from sleep on a cold morn and hurriedly prepared for tea. My brother, Dr. Owens did the same. So did all the other inmates of my house, for my brother and I were to take our leave for different parts. He was to depart for Mexico and I was going to school, on a strange journey and to a strange town.

Dr., my father and I were soon on our way. We traveled for some time together. All seemed glad and full of joy but my young heart and mind was full of sympathy and deep imagination. I knew that a few moments and we must separate and perhaps for ever.

Alas we came suddenly upon the road crossing where three public roads intersect. Here with a few cold but heartfelt words of good-by and a frozen tear on the faces of father and two brothers our wheels rolled in different directions. I remember how I hated to see the last glimpse of bro-leave my sight as he turned the bend of the public road, then I shuffled myself in by my father snugger and rode at a faster pace.

It wasn’t so awful cold tho-twas pleasant to be well clothed as I remember, but I was quite young and my spirits high and quite a little ambitious as we strode along, our buggie wheels buzzed over the smooth road till we came to an almost barrier. It had thawed somewhat the day before and a deep snow and frozen earth had melted, together with a prolonged rain, had swollen the river till t’was most past crossing as there was no bridge. We entered the stream in some doubt that our crossing would be successful owing to the high water and quick-sand. After we had passed most of the ford, the team or rather the horse began to sink in the sand and his stopping caused the wheels of our buggie to do the same. The turbid waters began to rise around us. I knew not what to do. My father bade me not be frightened. It seemed that we were sinking in our grave, but as I afore stated I was ambitious and young. I asked my father if he could drive the horse out. I knew my weight taken away would be a help so before he could stop me I had leaped into the rushing water, then t’was sink or swim. Swim or perish. I remember I saw my father slap the horse and after some efforts and stifling sniffs the poor creature moved forth with all. This was all done in a much shorter time than it takes me to pencil it down, but you have no doubt, ask yourself the question, “Are you ever going to get out of the waves yourself?” I must have gotten out somehow for I’m still alive. I can’t tell you just how, for in such cases of emergency a man can do more wonders than otherwise, and things and feats which he can not account for afterwords, but I reached dry land with much ado and by hard swimming and buffeting the waves, but after all, was on the other side, (Jordan) which I termed it.

Afterwords I was so cold I cramped and with much effort I got in my seat by father once more. I had dry clothes with me for I didn’t expect to return home for quite a while and did not return for four (4) months, so I stopped at the nearest pavillion and produced much surprise to the inmates, but I cared not for their surprise nor what they thought, whether I was drunk, been fighting or in swimming or what not.

What I wanted was warmth and I finally elbowed my way through the crowd of men, women and children and young boys and girls with happy faces, to the fire. After my cramping left me I asked of the keeper to enter a separate and vacant room where I might re-dress. I thanked the keeper for his kindness and came in to the room I first entered. My father had come in at the invitation of the housewife, for the master had been with me in the other apartment, and I, of course had related my story in brief to him. During all this ramble and scramble Father Time had met no obstacles and it was noon for a large clock on the mantle told the hour by twelve (12) tinkling strokes.

We were invited to remain till dinner at this rustic and hospitable home. Everything looked wholesome and clean, well placed. We were conducted into a large dining hall between two houses well warmed by a large log fire in an open chimney. I felt quite a contrast between this comfort and my cold bath. I sat at the head off the table. It seemed to me a special honor bestowed on me for no reason unless t’was charity for the pitiful rounds I had gone on that unlucky morning. And, my father did enjoy the dinner equally as well as myself.

It would be useless to describe in detail or ever to try to detail that feast, for all old people know how such occasions as corn huskings are prepared for.

Large pots of game meats and domestic fowls cooked with dumplings, mutton and other meats, and pies, cakes and gingerbread stacked so high on the board that you can hardly see those on the opposite side.

Good-by my clever host and long may you live. God has prospered you in this world it seems. You have only to be thankful to him. Something of this sort passed by lips as I took the hand of a hardy rustic farmer, which suit my father also followed.

We were once more on our journey. It had cleared up somewhat. The sullen clouds of the previous rains had broken and rested around the horizon edged with silvery tints. The sun gave slight warmth tho’ she, like a glimmering ball of light, cut across the skies far to the south.

Our journey was so long it took us all day, it was all a strange travel to me, seeming now more like a dream than reality. Passing farm houses we saw various things to amuse me, gay guineas and companies of turkeys, ducks and geese and brave roosters strutting in the barn yards, proud and haughty. This brought home to me and I began to feel a desire to retreat. I saw beautiful fires and happy children in the doors made me almost feel those little brothers and sisters I left at home and whom I thought once on that unlucky morning I’d never see again.

The roads were not very good. The poor horse boggled into ruts and mine holes and for pity sake on him I felt like walking. The wheels of our buggie almost smashed under the sudden chugs, but on we went until we came to some better conditions. The roads were better and I at once fell in a trance or reverie.

I knew no more or at least I saw and remembered nothing more till my father roused me up and as I arose upright I was startled, for no one can prevent showing signs of temporary insanity or absence of constancy at least when awoken to sudden surprise. Before me I saw a plume of light, lighting up the whole skies it seemed, and during my sleep, dark had overtaken us, but we were near our destination and as we turned the last curve of the road a beautiful sight was presented. I saw a landscape, it seemed, dotted with rows and bunches of diamonds. I couldn’t see from whence these lights came. A little nearer and I discovered houses in rows and streets lighted up by arks, and the homes by beautiful white bulbs.

Our wheels rolled fast and faster, my heart grew light and lighter and beat high in my breast, as down a slant we strode and up through as quaint and yet as beautiful, as creditable and hospitable a town as I have ever inhabited. Those street lights were so pretty and made such flickering unusual noises that I jumped sometimes.

Strange people were gathered in crowds and bunches about the doors of business places, and all eyes seemed to be placed on us as we sped along to the place where we should stop and that place I knew not where.

Sometimes an old fellow would wave at my father but as for me I might as well been in N.Y. City for all I knew of acquaintances.

We at last halted in front of a large three story building. We called and a very intelligent middle aged man, very ruddy and hale, strong and sinewy, and with exceptionally heavy whiskers met us at the gate and bade us come in. We entered after having removed the baggage from our buggie and went thru-halls and different apartments till we rested ourselves in a very modern room. I said to father, “Is this the place?” And he only said, “Ay”. But we were very nicely entertained. Other students came in to see the new scholar and went away with various remarks about his red head and freckled nose, but all were nice to me on my first evening as well as afterwards. We were soon called to supper and were presented with a delightful meal, tho-not so luxurious as the husking dinner. “Bless that Farmers Life”.

I soon found that I was to eat, sleep, study and recite in this big building that seemed very pleasant to me, for I felt like I had had enough of the weather and exposure on my journey. I was shown a room on the second floor fronting toward the town and this was also a pleasure to me afterwards, tho I did not know why then, but the cause soon presented itself.

I had always been prompt in school and so I was first in the classroom with all the normal students and I found more red haired friends and pug nosed ones too, and tow leaded girls, besides myself. They all looked like school to me.

The routine of reciting went round day after day as the call bell brought us in. I could sit in my room window and see fair faces and gay boys with books in hand, and I wondered but at last I found that the school I attended wasn’t the only one there, but I must hurry along.

I had always been in a habit of and had always been taught and brought up in church and Sunday School, and I had only been one week in school till about six (6) P.M. on Wednesday evening a large bell tolled the town and I noticed that most all the boys preferred studying to church, but I was of a different mind. I lagged along down the street as tho-in a city for I was young and shy in many ways. Nothing entered my mind of my opposite sex. Boys and girls I saw in couples. Dame, widows and husbands and wives winding their way up a steep hill. I made one of the bunch, but no one knew me, and little did I care. Once and again an eye flashed on me with a little peculiar aire, everyone seemed to know every one else, save me. I felt like an object of pity. After all was in, I stood alone without. At last I ventured in and I know not why but I had always been used to sitting in the choir at home. Walked straight up to the front and it seemed that all eyes were on me. Something seemed to draw me supernaturally. I can never account for why I walked up there and I can’t tell why things were arranged just so but there was only room for one more to sit in choir and this was next to some neat looking attractive young girl. I sat down very deliberately. She offered me one side of her book. I accepted her well bred courtesy and we continued to sing that song. I shall never forget the title, “To Live with Jesus”, and this little girl by whom I sat shall be no less forgotten than the song, so long as I live, her goodness to me as a stranger branded me not on the hand but in my heart. I loved her happy face that night. It seemed to present something more than common to me. I knew my heart was wounded. I loved this fair lass then and I love her yet.

I saw her, but after that memorable night, I managed to fall in her conversations. I admired her more everyday. I thought, I’m young and foolish and this will all pass away soon, and I in truth was afraid it would pass away.

I passed that winter in a fit of young and abnormal passion of love. It was my first adventure and I kept it under cover for fear I was so mistaken and for this reason which many a young couple have to contend with and that was opposition from those in authority.

When spring came I returned home for vacation. My heart rested back in this quaint little town and all my thoughts were of one little blond lass with fair hair seemingly the only pure gem of Anglo-Saxon Blood. My journey homeward was more pleasant than as I went. Verdure was putting forth in clusters of heavy foliage. Early flowers, blue bells and violets were fresh. I think, now, what a vast difference in my two rides, but I was glad when time came for me to go back to school and so I spent the most of my school life at this place I have described, and each year my heart was sacrificed deeper to this beautiful angel of a girl. She grew in her womanly ways and her life seemed to be given to me, of course, I had entered suit long since. But today six years of diverse circumstances, lights and shadows, dark avenues, obstacles, partings and months of absence from each other finds the same intensity of love existing in our hearts. Time may bring changes of seasons, my habitations and vocations of life may change, our hearts may faint and become weak, other loves may prove false, but my heart was first struck by Cupids arrow for this lovely one, and at her consent the last pulsation of life in me will vibrate in memory of this beautiful Kentucky Blond.

Wm Owens