DIY History | Transcribe | Campus Culture | Adelia M. Hoyt memoir and photographs

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Page 11

UNFOLDING YEARS 11
still after all I was his own flesh and blood and his only child. I know that both my parents grieved much of my failing sight, despite the consolation given them by our family physician that they need not worry too much as I would never live to grow up. 
When I was ten our relatives in Janesville, Wisconsin, wrote of a famous eye doctor who was doing wonders for many of the children at the Wisconsin School for the Blind, and they suggested that I be brought there for examination. It must have meant quite a sacrifice for my parents to get together enough money for the trip, but no effort was too great if my sight could be restored. So my mother and I prepared for the long journey. The train left Cedar Falls at midnight. Father took us to town early in the evening and we visited with friends until train time.
It was June and a terrific thunderstorm was gathering, so we hastened to the station. After we boarded the train I remember that for the rest of the night the windows were sheets of flame from the continuous lightning. On the way home my father found a bridge washed away and spent the rest of the night with a neighboring farmer. A train ride was no pleasure to me for until I was fully grown it always made me deathly sick. This was an especially hard tip as we had to change cars three times and did not reach our destination until the next evening. 
Of that visit I recall only a few incidents. In the doctor's office I went through the usual test, for when at my best I could still read large letters if not too far away. Whether this doctor was entirely a fake or possessed some slight skill, I know not, but he was quite sure that he could help me with glasses. He proposed to fit me with two pair, one for steady wear and one for reading, and for these he wanted One Hundred Dollars. I can imagine this seemed quite a sum to my poor parents. Letters were exchanged with my father and arrangements made whereby my Uncle Edwin, my Aunt Adelia's husband, agreed to loan my father the money at ten percent interest. 
Our home coming like our departure was in night. Father met us at the station and we drove home through the warm darkness. How good it seemed to be

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UNFOLDING YEARS 11 still after all I was his own flesh and blood and his only child. I know that both my parents grieved much of my failing sight, despite the consolation given them by our family physician that they need not worry too much as I would never live to grow up. When I was ten our relatives in Janesville, Wisconsin, wrote of a famous eye doctor who was doing wonders for many of the children at the Wisconsin School for the Blind, and they suggested that I be brought there for examination. It must have meant quite a sacrifice for my parents to get together enough money for the trip, but no effort was too great if my sight could be restored. So my mother and I prepared for the long journey. The train left Cedar Falls at midnight. Father took us to town early in the evening and we visited with friends until train time. It was June and a terrific thunderstorm was gathering, so we hastened to the station. After we boarded the train I remember that for the rest of the night the windows were sheets of flame from the continuous lightning. On the way home my father found a bridge washed away and spent the rest of the night with a neighboring farmer. A train ride was no pleasure to me for until I was fully grown it always made me deathly sick. This was an especially hard tip as we had to change cars three times and did not reach our destination until the next evening. Of that visit I recall only a few incidents. In the doctor's office I went through the usual test, for when at my best I could still read large letters if not too far away. Whether this doctor was entirely a fake or possessed some slight skill, I know not, but he was quite sure that he could help me with glasses. He proposed to fit me with two pair, one for steady wear and one for reading, and for these he wanted One Hundred Dollars. I can imagine this seemed quite a sum to my poor parents. Letters were exchanged with my father and arrangements made whereby my Uncle Edwin, my Aunt Adelia's husband, agreed to loan my father the money at ten percent interest. Our home coming like our departure was in night. Father met us at the station and we drove home through the warm darkness. How good it seemed to be