Sleeping porch

(Fragent 2)
After about two years [at the sanatorium], when my mother learned how to make a place to sleep outdoors in the cold no matter what the weather, we all went back together again.  Mother had a porch built so that a window of the house opened on the center of the bed.  Early in the evening she would line her bed with hot water bottles and bricks.  She knit herself warm caps and mittens and always made a joke when she went thru the window.  There was a long-haired black hide that went on top, but I never knew the name of it.

Breakup

(Final fragment 1)
[When Minnie went to the TB sanatorium, Polly went to live with her Aunt Olga] and my father gave my brother to his mother at Fond du Lac where her daughter Lois and husband Bill McWhorter lived.

Moral

(Lyndon 24)
So this is the life of one who had no steady influence to guide him and who had not enough ambition within himself to make something of himself.

Funeral

(Lyndon 23)
I think I went to the funeral alone.  Daddy phoned and told me to keep my chin up and he'd be home as fast as he could; he had seen the papers.  I recall there were some from Ripon  ...  [more from Fond du Lac].  The young man, very nice looking in a dark suit  (cannot think of his name:  A--?  G--?  (Gutreiter? perhaps) shook hands with me and spoke very well expressing his sympathy.

The accident

(Lyndon 22)
A storm blew up fast and the boat turned over.  As I remember it, Lyn let the friend have the gasolene can to hang on to as Lyn was a fairly strong swimmer.  But wearing a leather jacket etc. he hardly had a chance.  We all felt so sorry for his dying fighting the water, but I mourned a life wasted.

Circumstances

(Lyndon 21)
My father went on to say that Lyndon and a friend were working at a resort on Lake Winnebago (I think) [Beaver Dam, actually] and they had gone out in a small gasoline launch for fish on a very overcast day.  Perhaps they were asked to do this to serve fish at the resort.

Downed

(Lyndon 20)
[In 1938] one morning quite early, about 7  --  I think we were living on the hill in Richland Center and Daddy was on one of his trips to Milwaukee  --  the phone rang and it was my father.  "Well," he said, so weary, "Lyndon is drowned."  My heart sank.

Interim

(Lyndon 19)
You can see there was no good stabilizing influence in his life.  I think he worked different places, like factories, for a short spell.

Graceless

(Lyndon 18)
Much later Lyndon and Grace broke up.  He said her mother and their priest were against him because he was not Roman Catholic and kept hectoring her until she gave in.  I got the impression the marriage was annulled.  He felt bad about that.

Grace

(Lyndon 17)
Life went on....  On afternoon when we lived on Beaumont Avenue in Milwaukee [in 1930s] he drove up with a pretty nice tall dark haired girl, Grace [Egan].  Did he introduce her as his wife?  Maybe.  I could see they cared for each other.

Blank

(Lyndon 16)
I have been trying to think whether Lyndon came out to Green Lake when we did get married, but I can't remember him there at all.

What to do?

(Lyndon 15)
I recall a conversation we had alone one late afternoon.  He said, "Well, I suppose you are going to marry Sir Kay?"  I said yes, I supposed so.  And asked what he was going to do.  He spoke very sadly.  Said he didn't know.  He had no prospects, no talents, no education, no expectations.  I remember feeling very sorry, and helpless.

Bumming

(Lyndon 14)
Sometimes he would go on long trips with friends out West, bumming their way.  My father was always so worried.  But he always came back with lots to tell.  And no money.

His humor

(Lyndon 13)
One thing Lyndon loved was comedy in movies, slapstick.  He would tell about it later and laugh heartily.  He had for a friend a tall thin negro who was always falling down awkwardly or getting in funny situations, and Lyn loved to tell us about it and laugh until he nearly choked.  I think I said he should be careful of choosing his friends, but he knew better than I what he wanted to do.