February 3
Mark S., age 54, North Carolina
February 3, 2008
Took Mom to Sunday school. Desk work at office. Home => met Ricketts family, Kenny, Druscie, Lily, and Sarah => *to First Baptist Church for Mom’s baptism. Lunch (meatloaf) at home with everyone but Lily. Pingpong with Bruce and Emma. Rode bike solo to Laura’s => talk (my first time in her house); to Wayne and Karen’s => talk, beer; home after ~42-mi. ride. Phone to Laura. Supper with Mom. To Hibernian for Super Bowl (Giants over 18-0 Pats); to office; phone from Laura en route home from party she went to in Raleigh. Home.
Laura M., age 25, North Carolina
February 3, 2008
I just returned from Grammy’s house, where all the in-town Simpsons had lunch after having been to Grammy’s church, the occasion being her baptism. This was actually (if I understood her correctly) Grammy’s fourth official baptism. When Dad told me last Sunday that she wanted me to be present for it, I immediately thought, Now there’s an ending for my novel. Though I’ve already written an ending in which Ray attends church with his mom on Christmas Eve, I’d be willing to write an alternate one in which he attends her baptism. So I wanted to briefly document the experience.
The service started at 10:30 this morning, and Grammy’s baptism happened first thing. I thought they were just going to sprinkle water on her head, but I guess the Baptists don’t mess around — and why would they? Grammy got dunked. There was this bizarre alcove built into the wall above and behind the choir. Green curtains parted, and a robed reverend (preacher?) was standing there before a cross. He said some words, and it wasn’t until he turned to hold his arms out to Grammy that I realized he was standing thigh-deep in water! Grammy took hold of his hands, then his forearms, he said some more words, and then he titled her back so that she was totally immersed. She came up out of the water with her arms already lifted to the ceiling, her mouth moving in prayer (perhaps in tongues), blissed-out. Then another person (a teen-aged boy) was baptized in the same way, and that was it.
They went on with the sermon, which at first was just a bunch of singing (with two big screens on either side of the baptism alcove that showed the words — a holy kind of Karaoke) that I did not lend my voice to. That was one of the many aspects I used to dislike about church — I hate singing in such a big group of people because I can’t hear myself and therefore don’t know if I’m off-key. Not to mention the songs are awful and who wants to sing along to what they don’t believe in. I stood next to Dad, of course, and he wasn’t singing, either. Being in the front row, I kind of felt self-conscious because the preacher and all the choir could see me perfectly, my shut mouth. After awhile I just started bowing my head so that it wasn’t so obvious. Maybe they’d think I was praying. But they sure do an awful lot of singing! Struck me as a good way to kill time — now that I’m a teacher I like to think that I’m savvy about such tactics —what-all it takes to fill up an hour. Sing, sing, sing.
The sermon wound up being about how unfair life can be. The program even had a photograph on the cover of a little girl pouting, sticking her bottom lip out, and below that the words “No fair!” I wasn’t impressed with what the preacher had to say. He was a bit smug for my tastes, seemed to think himself something of a stand-up comic. Everything he said struck me as such old news. Yes, I know that life isn’t fair, and I do my best to roll with its punches. At one point the preacher mentioned envying those with abundant wealth and then he said, “Does anyone here have abundant wealth?” I wanted to raise my hand and say Yes! I’ve never been so wealthy in my entire life. Not only do I have new clothes, a nice computer, a paid-for car, and a spacious two-bedroom apartment, but I also have loving parents, siblings, and friends; I know what I want to do with my life; I know my talents and I can nurture them.
Later on, the preacher quoted a passage that Grammy actually quoted to me when I interviewed her a couple months ago, back in November: “It is appointed unto us once to die, and after this, the judgment.”
“Are you ready to face the judgment of God?” he asked. “To be compared to none other than Jesus Christ?” And I got the distinct impression that he wanted my answer to be no. But my answer (if I believed in that sort of thing) would be yes! I’m certainly not Jesus but I try to love my fellow man and I love life despite its many tests and heartaches. I am learning how to love it more every day. Life is a constant learning process (like writing). I’m never going to get it exactly right, but I’m human and therefore imperfect.
The man did say one thing I could respect, both for the actual sentiment and for how it was worded. He said, “We’re all a heartbeat away from stepping out into eternity.” Of course, then I think of Kerouac’s “Eternity and the Here-and-Now are the exact same thing,” and understand that, if we can truly live in the moment, eternity is not a heartbeat away — we’ve already stepped into it. And in that case there should be nothing to fear or regret, no judgment to prepare for. But the preacher went on to talk about Heaven, at which point I wrote something in the little notepad that Dad put in my stocking. I showed the quote to Dad and he smiled.
It said, “We have had enough of Heaven. Let us now praise Earth.” -Wallace Stevens
Laura M., age 14, North Carolina
February 3, 1997
Bad day. School was okay. Me and Ashley went home with Renee and me, them, and Malia ordered a pizza. Went to a basketball (home) game and Courtney came. Sean was there and we broke up. :( I’m so empty. We both cried and I gave him one last kiss (peck). We’re best friends for always.
Laura M., age 13, North Carolina
February 3, 1996
Snowed. Me & Shannon & Becca & Dad went to Paradigm for breakfast. We took Shannon home & then went to the mall. I got a shirt.
Anna L., age 75, Illinois
February 3, 1960
So trembling just didn’t want to do anything but managed a few things. Ironed what was left. Had several ’phone calls. Up to see Ole for an hour. Seemed pretty good.
Marcy S., age 19, Missouri
February 3, 1944
Cold and bright and windy but nice. Good breakfast. Shorthand test on brief-forms. Easy. Letter and picture from Helen. In history Mr. Carson got off on the “free enterprise” question and principles - the ones you die for. Told about a friend of his who had “sold his principles himself down the river for money.” I admire Mr. Carson greatly - like the class much better now. Got our papers back - Betty and I both made 87 - S+. After class Mr. Carson said I was improving a lot. Remarked again about my writing ability and asked if I were taking any courses in it. Said I should think about that. So later Betty gave me a lecture of the subject and thinks I might have a future there if I’d just take a course and find out. Mr. Berry is in hospital with pneumonia. We’re worried. At lunch those old rude bags got our table and wouldn’t move. Made us so mad. Mary had to sit with them and said they were awful!! Some people! Wrote Roly [?] and Alice. Mary heard from Alice today. At 2 met with Mary Jo who is our student congress representative - about 8 other kids, too, in her room. Mary Ann, Pris, Jane, etc. Had good discussion about hall spirit, etc. For once I expressed my opinion! Felt very good as a result! To Humanities at 3. Heard last report - on Norman Rockwell. Good discussion. To town at 4 for laundry and graham crackers. Letter from Marg. Louie and Mum. To piano lesson at 4:30. Miss Good Smith in very good mood. We joked a bit at first. She said my hair looked so pretty. Played scales - stiff at first. Then suddenly and almost unconsciously relaxed. Miss G. stopped me and we had long talk about being natural and that she thought that was an indication of how my character was developing and how I wasn’t so inhibited as I seemed last year. She said she liked me of course last year but had gotten to know me better this year and had become really fond of me. I nearly disgraced myself then and there with tears. She said I had more poise and was really developing. I got out of myself suddenly and felt queer. I still can’t describe the feeling. At the door I told her what a wonderful person I thought she was and we talked talked some more about how certain people attract each other and can help each other more. She wants me to take stock of myself honestly and evaluate my assets and liabilities so that I can go on growing and developing. I felt as if I’d found a new or another mother or something. Went back to the hall and wept - tears of joy for once! Felt so indescribably wonderful! Good dinner. To vespers at 7:30. Back to write family long letter explaining where January check went. This morn Mr. Carson said that in order to be an individual a person must have principles, something he believes in, and stick by them. He said that mattered more than friends or anything.
Marcy S., age 16, Tennessee
February 3, 1941
Bright, very cold. Tore note up before letting Mary read. Someone said my time line looked as if an artist had made it. Help! Good dinner. Mary feels and I feel that she is not going to live much longer. Oh, Diary, what would life be without Mary. She says that every night she tells my picture everything -- if only I were in the picture! In the afternoon after school, she wrote me a note and I had to promise to return it immediately after reading it. So I left typing and walked to the entrance with her and read it. Then I dropped it and fled -- the tears almost there. Mary followed and finally I broke down and cried into her fur collar, right in the hall! You can imagine how much typing I got done. At night Mom and Dad both went away and I stayed over at George’s. Wrote a poem with his help (although he didn’t know to whom it was) for Mary. To bed late. Earl suddenly said to me this afternoon, “I feel poetic -- think I’ll write a poem.”
Henry S., age 26, Michigan
February 3, 1888
Una still continues to be pretty sick. We have to be up more or less every night. She has been pretty bad this afternoon and evening. The weather continues mild. Jessie Neill has been here a good share of the day. A little rain fell last night and the surface of the snow appears shiny. Received a postal card from ma and a picture of Bertha, which is a good one. I feel mighty cross someway, which is a bad state of affairs. Wrote letters to Mother Queal and Irvie McCall today.
Henry S., age 25, Michigan
February 3, 1887
I made out an for vegetables on D. M. Ferry & Co. of Detroit. It took me about all the forenoon to make the selection, but I think I have a fair one for my home garden, which I hope to enjoy next summer. My, but haven’t I lots of plan for next summer I guess some of them will have to suffer but I am going to do all I can to have my home a pleasant one for myself and darling wife. Mr. John Adams entered the Bookkeeping class this afternoon, and I had a new student in the penmanship class. I have been writing to Kate tonight and also the Office a paper which I am going to try for months. It is a beautiful moonlight night.
*(R. Henry Scadin Collection, D.H. Ramsey Library Special Collections, UNC Asheville)
Columbus T., age 31, North Carolina
February 3, 1874
Received a remarkable letter with a remarkable proposition coming from the source it did. Recd also a letter from my father which I answered and one from A. Holman and a petition from colored citizens near Catawba Church asking the prohibition of the sale of spirituous liquors within one mile of said church and complaining that there was a grocery or grog shop within a few hundred yards. This was recommended by Isaac Harris and other prominent white citizens. The Revenue bill was passed after numerous amendments which were either adopted or rejected. Offered one which recd large majority and failed only because no quorum voted. Took a walk by the the R. and G. RR works and on the rail road. Called upon M.L. McCorkle who was rooming with Houston of Catawba here attending on Supreme Court.
*(Worthy of Record: The Civil War and Reconstruction Diaries of Columbus Lafayette Turner, Ed. Kenrick N. Simpson, courtesy of the State Archives of North Carolina.)
Cornelia H., age 26, North Carolina
February 3, 1863
Cold & snowing this morning. I am tired out of snow. We have had a great deal of snow this winter but little rain. Mr. Henry did not go to Asheville today. Sam Murray & Steph Jones eat dinner here. I made Mr. Henry a vest today. It is not a very nice one but will do better than his old one. Ely Glenn eat supper here tonight. The snow is two or three inches deep. Not so cold tonight since the wind has lay. Betsey weaving, will get enough to cut Mr. Henry’s suit out this week. It is very nice jeans. It breaks very badly.
*(Fear in North Carolina: The Civil War Journals and Letters of the Henry Family, Eds. Karen L. Clinard and Richard Russell, used with permission.)
Cornelia H., age 25, North Carolina
February 3, 1862
I cut Jim & John a pair pants today. Atheline is to make them. I heeled Mr. Henry some socks. Willie has got well but very fretful. The others all well. Mail came along but nothing new. Old Jim Night is to attend the mill as E. P. Night is going to Geo. Willie coughed a good deal at night.
*(Fear in North Carolina: The Civil War Journals and Letters of the Henry Family, Eds. Karen L. Clinard and Richard Russell, used with permission.)
Samuel P., age 35, London
February 3, 1668
Up, and to the office, where with my clerks all the morning very busy about several things there wherein I was behindhand. At noon home to dinner, and thence after dinner to the Duke of York’s house, to the play, “The Tempest,” which we have often seen, but yet I was pleased again, and shall be again to see it, it is so full of variety, and particularly this day I took pleasure to learn the tune of the seaman’s dance, which I have much desired to be perfect in, and have made myself so. So home with my wife and Deb., and there at the office met to my trouble with a warrant from the Commissioners of Accounts for my attending them and Cocke two days hence, which I apprehend by Captain Cocke’s being to go also, to be about the prizes. But, however, there is nothing of crime can be laid to my charge, and the worst that can be is to refund my 500l. profit, and who can help it. So I resolve not to be troubled at it, though I fear I cannot bear it so, my spirit being very poor and mean as to the bearing with trouble that I do find of myself. So home, and there to my chamber and did some business, — and thence to supper and to bed.
*(The Diary of Samuel Pepys M.A. F.R.S., edited by Henry B. Wheatley F.S.A., London, George Bell & Sons York St. Covent Garden, Cambridge Deighton Bell & Co., 1893.)