Summer I was 15, 1935

Soon after school was out that spring, I developed an infection in both eyes. It put me out of the line of fun for about six weeks. That's because it kept getting worse and worse, and the eye doctor couldn't find any way to bring it to an end. I didn't know, but he told my mom that he was afraid I was going to be blind. I had to see him every morning, and because my eyes were to dilated I couldn't see anything but blurs, my mom had to take me. Even the city bus driver was asking her each day how it was going. Mom kept the shades down in the house, and since they were a dark green, every room was shadowy. My best friend, Doris, was over every day to hang out with me and also to read magazine stories to me. The women's magazines at that time had loads of fiction and not quite so much about housekeeping and mothering. Doris was hooked, but I only read books--till she got me hooked too. Also I listened every day to the soaps on the radio. Backstage Wife, Stella Dallas, Ma Perkins, Mary Marlin, Vic and Sade and many others. I still remember the tune to "Rinso white, Rinso bright, happy little washday soap." The doctor tried something different each day, and one medication burned my eyes--made them worse. That ended that one. Another made one eye feel like a stickery burr was in it but only when I closed it! Mom washed it out over and over but no go. I worried about how I'd be able to sleep, but found I could lie on my left side and do okay. Finally, I guess my own good health and whatever the doctor tried did the job. I got well.
Later that summer Doris's mother suggested that Doris and I go visit her dad in Pickerell, Nebraska--about 75 miles from Lincoln. Population of about 150. Doris's sister was there for the summer to keep house and cook for her grandpa. The train we had to take was more like a Toonerville Trolley! Just one car that had engine and all in it. And one man to drive it along the track and a conductor. It was fun. We went on a Thursday morning and Doris's mom, dad, and little brother came for us on Sunday. The Grandpa had a nice little house on a country road and no plumbing. We followed a brick path through a flower garden to reach the potty house. Smells were kept down as much as possible by all the flowers. One evening we went to a ball game but sat with a few kids our age in back of the bleachers and didn't see even one pitch. On Sunday
we walked down the gravel road to a small church and went to Sunday School. That "vacation" is a very happy memory.