“11:50 P.M. May 1st,
Such a beautiful day and my heart aches so to think how sweet it would have been with her out among the Texas wild flowers. Such wonderful creations of nature. Man cannot duplicate them and neither can he live the simple purity of their short say with us. A few days and they will be swallowed in the heat of summer but they will blossom again when May Day rolls around so long as the sun comes to warm their little seed into living again. They will come for future generations to admire and only because they know not how to sin. It is indeed a purity divine. I am sad tonight, this the zenith of my efforts brings not that which I seek and must I always pick the little wildflowers alone? I shall continue on, may it bring the best. Ilya toyed skuisya. 12:05 A.M.”
“9:55 P.M. May 2nd,
Tonight’s Journal carries the little message by Confucius, “Our greatest glory lies not in never falling but in not rising every time we fall.” A very good thought indeed to be written by anyone. By it the evil of today may bring hope for tomorrow the sinner’s only chance for redemption. One might think that the greater sin is in never falling and so it is only an excuse produced in the imagination of man for what bears the aspect of sin and permits the sin without destroying the soul. Thus we are then led to believe there is no sin. The limits which bring destruction of the soul are not given, only we must “rise gain”. We can sin but we must not live in sin. If a sin of our fathers is not considered a sin of today then what is the difference in our souls? So absurd. Ilya toyed skuisya 10:20 P.M.”
“11:00 P.M. May 3rd,
Pat and Ray were over this evening, brought my niece home as she had stayed with them since Sunday. We are glad she is back gain. I have a headache tonight only because I have made it so. The force controlling man is indeed hard to understand. I have in a minor degree been troubled with what I term my evil thoughts and the desires for their pleasure. Not because of any specially noticed outward stimulus but they are just present and cannot be forced away. My trouble is not in overcoming them, tho they inevitably produce some secret intrigue for their satisfaction, but the greater burden is borne by the physical being in making it act as I wish. All this only brings the known condition of nervous strain. So I am only more greatly perplexed. Death holds the release but it is an uncertain factor, calamity may precede it. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:25 P.M.”
“10:50 P.M. May 4th,
And now May is on its way. The days come and go. I can only keep them busy days. I am glad they are busy days. Idleness is a breeder of the bad; when idle we are doing nothing except planning that which may fulfill some desire. If it is of the good then we are not idle. When I am idle I seek something to do. The desire must be to help humanity for I crave nothing for myself. I want to go where my little sweetheart has gone, buy I am lost in the mirage of present day dogmas and creeds so I only try to be good, as she always was and I can do nothing more. My soul has been given unto her and I am sure she will prize it and guide it as it should go. I can only work continuously as my lonely hours come with the night. I can only sit and love the stars. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:10 P.M.”
“10:55 P.M. May 5th,
One task finished and another sought. The mind is never idle in its search for some bodily activity. Some duty to be done, some power to overcome; one thing is done that it may bring another; if our efforts are realized we are content. If they bring not which we plan we are displeased. If I master some different task I have set for myself in the battle of mastering it, I am content, but when it brings not which I seek, or plan, and when it no longer is a bitter antagonist I am again lost and my mind searches further. This only shows mans greatest pleasure is in doing a thing. When done, the man accepts the compliments of those who admire his efforts but these are valueless, unless they may inspire to greater efforts. I seek no glory because it means nothing to me. I work because I love it; that is all I have. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:10 P.M.”
“10:40 P.M. May 6th,
I am tired and must be in bed soon. Oh! if I could only rest forever. Why must it be so? Life was very dear with her to share it; all its hopes were many then, all its efforts were so given to a purpose. I am nothing now. I only go to bed and try to rest. Why, I do not know. I’d just like to keep going until the end and then rest. But I cannot do it. Night comes and all is quiet and my eyes get tired and sleepy. No matter what I do, it seems, I cannot bring her back. I don’t know why, I want to so bad. My life has all been upside down it seems tonight and I cannot see why it was given unto me. Dear little sweetheart, come and kiss my tired eyes tonight. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:50 P.M.”
“10:45 P.M. May 7th, 1927
Saturday night again, tomorrow is the day of rest. I wonder when I shall be given the eternal rest? Such a hard day as this has been, only one more added to my total already surpassing the number allotted and it brings me naught, only a realization of being that much further from God and religion. I am more defiant each day but I cannot help it. I think I must be governed by some law of opposites. What I desire is not given to me, but rather the opposite. I want death and I shall live a long time. I want to believe in God and all that he promises us in Heaven. Each day my belief grows weaker. I must be crazy already and do not know it. But I will not make it different. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:00 P.M.”
“10:10 P.M. May 8th,
I should be very, very tired tonight but somehow I am not, tho perhaps I’ll soon be sleepy. This is “Mother’s Day” and I could only go to Greenwood and take her some little wild flowers; tidy up the little plot and water her roses. Mother, no sweeter word has ever been uttered. No great sacrifice has ever been given than she gave, her life, and only that she craved to love the little baby’s hands and help them find the best in life. If God has any favored place in Heaven it must be given unto her. Man, the physically stronger sex, suffers not, but only makes a mess of life. Some way, some how, some day, I shall bring her back. I cannot go to her it seems. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:30 P.M.”
“10:15 P.M. May 9th,
Each day seems to bring less faith in God and more faith in the goodness of my little sweetheart. So many things occur which are in contrast to a belief in the powers of an almighty God, tho I do not like to have that faith destroyed. Another storm last night at Garland, near Dallas, in which some twenty odd were killed and among the dead is listed “unidentified baby”. God in whom my faith would be strong and all worshipful would not take the little lives that way; they, whose lives have never touched what we call sin, and are crushed on the very threshold of life. If God controls the storms, as we are want to believe, then he is very unfair in the vengeance wrought thru the storms. God controls the Heaven’s but the Devil controls the earth. If my soul, whatever it may be, is light enough to sore upwards then I shall join my little sweetheart. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:40 P.M.”
(Written by me in 2012)
(Sally here: That last passage brought me back to a dream I had almost 2 ½ years ago, in 2009. I call it The Storm. Kevin, my husband, had died just a year earlier and I was still having so many dreams about him. I don’t dream about him any more and I truly believe God is allowing that to protect me. It hurts too much right now to dream about him as he seems so alive and that is too much for me because I just end up waking up without him.
Anyway, this dream was so incredibly profound for me. Kevin and I were standing in the kitchen of an old mid-west farm house. The kids were also somewhere in the house. I felt so content at that moment. I remember that the house itself was in the middle of acres and acres of farm land; corn fields. It was a summer night, twilight, with the sun almost gone beyond the horizon. It was hot outside so we had all the doors open and he and I were standing at the stove cooking. Suddenly I noticed that he turned to look out the screen door and way off in the distance huge dark clouds were forming with the most incredible burst of rose colored light shining through them. All around us the storm was forming and the warm wind was slowly picking up. I could see Kevin calmly head for the door and I followed him in a panic. As I stood on the back porch I watched him standing by the dirt road right in front of our house. Right then an old truck pulled up beside him and the driver, an old farmer, leaned over and opened the door for Kevin and then turned and looked at me through the back window with the most endearing look. I believe that old man was Jesus. I called out to Kevin with tears in my eyes telling him not to leave and that I wanted to go with him. Before he got in he turned to me so lovingly and said, “You can’t go just yet, not now, but I’ll be back to get you one day. I love you Sally” He then got in and slowly drove off towards the ray of light. I sobbed as I watched the truck disappear in the distance. I can barely write this right now as it brings back such deep emotions. I do know this, one day he’ll be back for me. And there is a reason I am still here and there are reasons for our “storms”. Only God knows…..)
“10:50 P.M. May 10th, 1927
Life, devoid of any purpose or desire to accomplish some thing, is indeed a tragedy. This evening I’ve been drawing again. I must keep busy and I have worked out a way of transmitting power from revolving disc to piston action without the use of an eccentric; a little idea I have had in mind since a boy and its purpose may be known if I continue to place my efforts toward that end. As soon as I had conceived the idea and sketched it out, its possibilities seemed to be very great but the thrill which should come with the thought of having mastered a thing at last was missing because my desire is only for the little sweetheart who can no longer share any glory I might achieve and glory is not what I seek for myself anymore. If in my efforts toward perfecting what I have in mind I can keep busy, then perhaps I shall be a little better some day. Ilya toyed skuisya 11:15 P.M.”
“11:25 P.M. May 11th,
I am a little sleepy, feel well enough but I’m just tired; I want to rest. If I am idle a few moments I become very nervous and restless and feel like crying. I miss her so and want to see her everyday. My sister cooks such good things to eat but I have no appetite. I don’t even want to eat anymore. Have not had a letter from my sweetheart’s mother in so long. I know she has lots to do with daddy to take care of; I hope she loves me a little yet, tho, I’m not worth it. I wish I could go to see her. I guess I’ll soon be just an outcast and they will all forget me. Even to my sister and her daughter who do so much for me and try to make life happy for me, I do not respond to their efforts. I wish I could show some appreciation but I’m just lost. I sometimes think I’ll just lie down and take a nap and never wake up, but I always do. Oh! God! Can you not do something for me? Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:45 P.M.”
“10:45 P.M. May 12th,
This has been a dark and rainy day. Storms passing and in some cases playing havoc with the things man builds unless they are built very well indeed. The dark days do not seem to bring any extra gloom or sadness to me; all days seem just the same. I am thankful when one is gone but not anxious for another to come. That is not as life was meant to be tho I fear it shall always be that way for me. I am only content in my power of controlling the force of life within me and do not seek pleasure of any sort. It is meant for the happy and happiness is not a part of me anymore. Perhaps my little sweetheart will bring it back to me some day. She is doing all she can. Ilya toyed skuisya 11:00 P.M.”
“11:15 P.M. May 13th,
A friend remarked the other day that there was “something wrong with this old world”, all the storms, floods, mine disasters, explosions etc., which have been so bad and have taken such a toll on life. My thoughts turned only to the fact that there has been something wrong with it since last November; it has all changed since then. To me it can never be the same again. I hope that I am not accountable for any strange phenomena the world seems to be showing. My little part is only in accounting for myself. If my efforts are toward the good perhaps that will, in a small degree, help the world. If we strive for the good in life only the good will manifest its power over us. So much of the sin of today is not of our own making; it is merely the result of our efforts to keep pace with the “speed” of the age in which we live. I am not of this age anymore. I long for what the end may bring. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:35 P.M.”
(Written by me in 2012)
When John says, “I’m not of this age anymore” I totally understand where he’s coming from. Ever since my husband died I have felt and believe I always will feel that only part of me is here on this earth, in this time, and of this age. The rest of me is with him.
“10:35 P.M. May 14th, 1927,
Saturday night and its plans for the morrow. I am glad that it is here for tomorrow I can do the only thing in life I want to do anymore; go to Greenwood and tidy up the little plot and take care of her roses. I love to do that. I do not know why but it is all I have left. I laugh at life and its futile efforts, they bring so little. What tomorrow has in store bothers me not, life is but of the moment and only the moments are ours to control. Future generations may be stronger and wiser but they will not be the white race, pleasure is thinning their ranks. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:50 P.M.”
“11:55 P.M. May 15th,
I cannot write very much tonight. I am so tired. Her little roses are growing nicely and one of them has two buds on it. They will be in bloom next Sunday and I shall be so anxious to see them. I had wondered if I should live to see them bloom. I am still here. I wish I knew why she had to be taken from me and be denied so much. She was so good and I am so bad. The world doesn’t need me anymore but her influence was the best for life. Oh! Little sweetheart, come back to me someway, someway, someway. Ilya toyed skuisya. 12:10 A.M.”
(Sally here: So very interesting on his comment on May 14th about the “white Race”. Not quite sure what he means by it all)
“9:15 P.M. May 16th, 1927
It is not late but I must be in bed soon; had a little nap since 7:00 or so and I woke up and find I am very tired; I sat and watched the big round moon for a few minutes and it seemed to make me feel very small and very old. It made my little sweetheart seem very close to me tonight and gave me a little faith in God. How wonderful it would be if I could join her soon. Then what, I wondered, must the soul of man pass before he becomes the least bit like unto God? Last night I dreamed of finding some strangely beautiful violets to plant on our little plot, so different from any I have ever seen. Just a bit of Heaven man is permitted to dream of I guess. Ilya toyed skuisya. 9:35 P.M.”
“10:55 P.M. May 17th,
A windy day and the cool night breeze is still whispering about the works of man and the beauties of nature. A letter from mother today and how glad it made me feel; how I love her and wish that I could be near her always. She has so much to do and such a burden to carry. If I could only lesson it I would find some joy in living. But what have I done, only added to her sorrow and placed another ache in her heart which I can never heal. She has her other children still to love but I’m sure none seem quite so dear to her as my little sweetheart was. I think I shall cry tonight when I go to bed, which will be very soon, because the tears just can’t be kept back. If only her little dream face would call me on. Ilya toyed skuuisya. 11:10 P.M.”
“10:35 P.M. May 18th,
The day has been warm and windy; the wind is still whistling on its way. It seems to be a language man does not understand. The moon is starting on its trip across the heavens; it is no longer a romantic moon to me, only I wonder what place it will have in the great beyond and if my little sweetheart is a part of it and sends a message to me through its beauty. How impatient I am to see it all. I listen for a little voice I long to hear, only the mournful breeze answers. I am still a part of life, tho perhaps I shall not long remain. I am no longer human because I do not heed the demands of humanity. I am very odd. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:50 P.M.”
(Written by me in 2012)
I was going to write another passage but this one is so incredible to me. He is so poetic; even in his grief. And when he writes “I am very odd”, I can tell you I myself have thought and still think on many occasions how very odd I am. This grief thing makes one think crazy things….So John; you are no more odd then the rest of us.
“10:30 P.M. May 19th,
Another windy day and no storm clouds in view. I wonder if the wind is trying to convey some message to me? I am always searching for an answer to the problem of life; some way to keep it busy; some way to keep it good. I find only the great lonesomeness, the vacant chair which should be hers. The loving arms and twinkling eyes no longer welcome me when the days work is done and our evenings were all our own. Time now is only a burden, the moments no longer seem precious to me. If God would only send her back to me, nothing better for humanity could be done. That does not seem possible so I must go to her. If that might be soon I would be glad. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:50 P.M.”
“11:15 P.M. May 20th,
Again I come to the hour of bedtime, and again a continuity of life for me holds only the burden which I must bear. Religion and the belief in its great reward after death, if life has been lived as it should be, seem only a very wonderful sentimentality which man has built about himself in his efforts to conquer the bad tendencies of society and thus bring a proper and peaceful continuity of life. How utterly he has failed and to what depths has religion dropped! God, as our pastors teach of him, holds not the powers nor the attraction of old. Man has built too much of the artificial and moves too fast now days to attempt a deep realization of God and the universe. Speed is not essential to life or rarely so. Captain Lindbergh is winging over the Atlantic toward Paris tonight in search of glory. I think I’d like to be with him, but not for glories sake. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:35 P.M.”
Fort Smith Times Record
“10:25 P.M. May 21st,
Saturday night. They are all very much alike because they are only as other nights to me. Tomorrow holds only the desire to visit Greenwood and care for our little roses; that is all in life that matters to me. If that may seem a little Godlike then I may be some closer to him and to her; if my soul require the interminglement with some mass who worships their particular God, then it is no better for I cannot do that. I seek only the stars as my friends; I worship only my little sweetheart and my goodness is because of her. Capt. Lindberg is in Paris tonight; am glad he was successful. I would not want to be with him tonight. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:40 P.M.”
“10:15 P.M. May 22nd,
One of her little roses was in bloom today. A very beautiful flower and its brightness seemed to welcome me and say “I am glad you’re home.” On leaving I longed for the tender caress of her loving arms but only the little rose could speak and it only seemed to say “I’ll remain.” Such may be the imagination man builds for himself when all else is gone, but the little rose was very pretty. I could only give it water and a kiss; someway it may reach her, because it was meant for her. Given care the roses will grow and bloom and so it is with life. If I had not failed her she would be with me now. God does not bring her back to me then can I say he has robbed me of her? I do not know. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:30 P.M.”
(Written by me today, in 2025)
I’ve read over 10,000 diaries in the years I’ve been collecting and John’s diary is one of the rarest as far as his entries are concerned. I have a diary written by a teacher in 1875 where she writes… “The noblest thoughts are those never spoken and the lowest feelings are never expressed.” I believe John does both; I admire him for that.
“10:55 P.M. may 23rd, 1927
The daily routine of life should be different this evening. Pat and Rayana are here for a few days but their coming does not brighten the evening hours a great deal, or their jovial company awaken any desire for life to continue; I am glad they are here and wish they might come oftener. The little stars are hid tonight and so I cannot talk to them; how much they know of life to me for their presence up there so high always awakens so many good thoughts of life which I can never put in words. Just like the little rose which yesterday tried so hard to tell me something. If I could only be in the little plot beside her tonight. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:05 P.M.”
“10:20 P.M. May 24th,
He who has found contentment has found God; God in all the supreme power and divinity which man shows reverence for but never fully understands. Some days I seem content but it comes from a realization of the power within myself to do or not to do that which may cross my path; to control myself and map my own route thru life. What the world of humanity thinks, if it does at all, matters little to me. I crave not the association of mankind, only to a minor degree. All that in life which held the key to my earthly ambitions, my little sweetheart, now seems to be a part of the Heavens and so I love the stars. They are so pretty tonight. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:35 P.M.”
“10:30 P.M. May 25th,
The quiet hours of the evening, how restful they seem and to what great heights do my thoughts seem to soar. There is so much I would like to write, just put it down where I can read it again some day and pass judgment on myself. But I am sleepy and tired and so my thoughts are only as the days gone by. They have been a part of life but tomorrow they will not return. If they have brought a little peace to my soul then they have not come in vain; if tomorrows actions are inspired by tonight’s meditations then I shall have gained a stronger hold on my desire that life shall bring forth only the good in me. Some day her little dream face will come back to me. There is so much I could entrust to her only. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:50 P.M.”
(Written by me in 2012)
If John only knew how much his words have inspired me. When I first read his diary I was very new to my grief from loosing my own husband and John’s words and thoughts were so much like my own. I’ve always kept a diary but stopped writing in one when I married my husband in 1994. When he died, in 2008, I wrote immediately, daily, and couldn’t write fast enough it seemed. I think I was trying to get those awful feelings out of me. Thinking that maybe if I put them on paper they’d be gone. No chance of that, but it sure did help now that I look back. I think I have 10 journals in the span of just 2 years from 2008-2010. Not sure if I’ll ever pick them up and read them, but for me, it was such a release. I think it is for John too.)
“May 26th, 1927
The hands of fate are very hard to guide as we want them to go for us but a great deal more of the good in life has been done by a firm determination than by any chance guidance of fate. We live and learn that the mistakes of yesterday are overcome by our efforts of today; only those which have been so great, have robbed us of all in life that makes life worth living, we are unable to correct. If we cannot correct them we endeavor to make amends some way; the only problem to me is how this may be done. It only seems my soul must be very black and my sadness turns to fury in my efforts to acknowledge the ruler of the universe. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:25 P.M.”
“May 27th, 1927
The day of the month which I always remember and wonder if I must live to see another month go by. Six months ago today the proper role of life for me ended then my little sweetheart passed to the great beyond. It seems I shall see her again some day. I want to but I am so impatient. I set about some task and finish it and when done it brings not that which I seek. One word of praise from her, one little touch of her loving hands, and I would have courage to live and hope and work for her. The world at my feet would bring no touch of contentment or joy to me. Oh if I might be a playmate of the starts then I would be glad. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:50 P.M.”
(Written by me in 2012)
I had a dream about my husband two nights ago. I think I’ve posted before that I don’t like dreaming about him. I use to love to dream about him when he first died but now it’s more like a nightmare to wake up. In my dream he was taking each one of our four kids and taking care of their needs whether it was just by giving them fatherly advice or encouragement, or just loving them unconditionally; all those things he did so well. I actually watched myself in my dream as I was standing watching him do this. I felt such contentment, such a release of responsibility, such a peace….then, I woke up. Oh to be a widow…
“11:25 P.M. May 28th, 1927
An exceptionally hot day for May, 103 degrees at 2:00 o’clock. I am not bothered by the heat, only as I come from town this afternoon it worried me a great deal to think her little roses would be crying for a drink. I must go over early in the morning to care for them. I am so despondent this evening and so utterly vexed at myself. I wish I might have the rest which must be hers. I do not like to write the thoughts that have come to me. I guess the mind is getting weak again. I said that I would always be truthful so I must be. If I should die of a pistol wound, how might it affect my soul if it were self inflicted or by the hand of another? I regret I believe it would not matter. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:35 P.M.”
“9:30 P.M. May 29th,
I am tired. Stopped by Jim’s station this morning and he insisted I go to their Alenite picnic. It was very enjoyable but I am not a part of such joviality. To sit and dream and only wait is the only motive which governs me now. Perhaps it is not right, but I’d rather it would be that way. It is so hot and her little roses will need water so often. I’d like to go over again tomorrow, Decoration Day, but I don’t expect I’ll get to. I wonder just where in the world I might be content? Nowhere, I guess. Some day I’ll find it among the stars. Ilya toyed skuisya. 9:45 P.M.”
“10:25 P.M. May 30th, 1927
Decoration Day and today I have not been to our little plot. I wonder if someone else has? The greatest sin of man is perhaps that he forgets too soon the victory and grandeur of the past in his efforts to stress the importance of the present. I shall never be a very great sinner, if the secret of remembrance may help my soul, for there is much in the past that is far dearer than the present offers. Hudson describes some of the peculiarities of the mind of man and the influence they hold. To me his suggestions would place religion in a sort of insanity class. It is that, no doubt, to a certain extent, for it seems only the refuge for those who seek help. I seek help to live but it is not asked of God. Ilya toyed skuisya. 10:45 P.M.”
“11:00 P.M. May 31st,
Always reading, always searching and for what? Only that which I have lost; some day I shall find her of that I am certain. Death may perhaps hold the only solutions, my powers seem very limited. It is not so much what death may hold for me that makes life so hard but rather the complexities of living which man has evolved as essential to the salvation of the soul. There is some good in all religious beliefs; it does not seem to me possible, one creed is above another. The great sin of many is the laxity with which they observe their professed faith. Man can have no better religion than his natural instincts provide. If there is an excess of evil predominant it will not be lessoned by a casual worship of his chosen God. The good must always prevail before any betterment of the soul is reached. My destiny has been shaped, I cannot change it now. Ilya toyed skuisya. 11:25 P.M.”
(Written by me in 2012)
When John said “The greatest sin of man is perhaps that he forgets too soon the victory and grandeur of the past in his efforts to stress the importance of the present,” I couldn’t agree more. I almost believe that I live in the past almost more then I live in the present; for two reasons. The first is because I’m constantly reading “other peoples diaries” on a daily basis and more importantly, the past holds those memories that are so very dear to me; my husbands memories. But as I’m writing this I believe that the future holds a promise given to me by Jesus; eternity with my husband and loved ones. So I must focus on both. I’m “spring” cleaning; even though its fall. I try and do this every year but haven’t done so since my husband died 4 years ago. When I do it I gut out every room in the house down to the bare walls and floors and get rid of stuff, paint and clean. It was very interesting to say the least when I cleaned out my husband’s office. Found things that I had forgotten about; his work bag with the clothes in it that he had worn that day, the OSHA report from the accident, his softball bag with his uniform and even his sunflower seed package and on and on. That room took me several days as I ended up on the floor crying much of the time. But, it did feel good to get it done. Now back to John…..
Sallys Diaries Private Collection 