A Letter written on Jul 24, 1921

Claremont, Calif.
July 27, 1921

My dear, dear friend.

Having sent Miss Clarke and mother off to evening service, I have an hour to be really alone. I have used a few minutes of it in continuing to read 'The Education of Henry Adams', on the front porch, but it grew too dark and almost too cool, so I came inside. How I wish you were here for the evening; what a good visit we could have. We haven't kept very good track of each other lately, have we? A recent letter from Miss Smith tells me that your mother left you in May. There are probably phases of the experience that I cannot foresee, but I think I can understand the mixture of loneliness and relief that must come. When the sort of care that you and I have had suddenly goes, it cannot help leaving a sense of loss of a part of one's real life. It seems to me that most people who reach the first point where they are dependent on their friends long for release, and when that is true, we can only rejoice in their release. Your strain has been longer and harder than mine (as yet) and I do hope that you are getting real rest this summer.

Last February we completed our new dormitory and moved the girls out of Sumner Hall expecting to move Sumner at Easter time; but funds were not at hand, so that we finished the year here. Miss Jewell was being let down easy, and was to stay until June with the understanding that for the second semester she would help me with mother. In March, she decided to leave, but I was fortunate in getting Miss Rose Clarke who was with us last summer at La Jolla. I have written to my brothers that if I could keep her while mother lives, I should feel that I could ask for nothing more. She is 59 years old and has had varied experiences, including work as a Baptist home missionary, and also at another time the care of a paralyzed older sister. She is a good cook and very economical, willing to do any kind of work for which she has the strength, and is wonderful with mother. Since we were to move within a few months, we have kept the same rooms, so that I have so far continued the care of telling mother what clothes to put on in the morning and so forth; but when we move, we shall shift responsibility a little more.

I have thought it was all decided as to where we would move, but circumstances this week have made it desirable to decide over again. There was a house with 10 girls that I would enjoy, but it may seem best to take another house which will just hold us. I can be happy either way. When Sumner Hall is moved (probably about Aug. 10th) and reconstructed, my office will be in it (it is to be an administration building) so that, at last, my office and parlor will not be the same room.

Mother and I both have kept very well all the year.

I took in some meetings of the National Council and you probably read that the Council came to Claremont on July 4. You have engineered enough things of that kind to know what it means to provide free autos to transport 600 people 35 miles, to entertain them on the campus with a music recital and a chance to see the buildings, and then to serve a banquet to 1002 peple in the gymnasium.

We have had some good auto rides and some picnic supplies and I went to Long Beach for a two-day visit. Before the summer is over, I shall take mother away for some visits and I shall run away without her for a week or two. We get to bed by nine o'clock nearly every night except Tuesday when we go to the weekly movie which the town affords.

I haven't made any preparation for moving. Since many of my books and other things will stay here, I shall simply fill the trunks with clothes, and send them with the furniture, and then take small things by hand or by auto when a friend happens around. I had hoped I was going to Berkeley for a week, going by auto (500 miles) but one of the party has broken her wrist so that we are not likely to go.

I do hope that you are going to gain a lot of strength this summer; I don't like to think of you on the disabled list, or even partially disabled. Wouldn't I love to fly over the Pemaquid some day in August! I wish, too, that you were also coming to California this fall.

How about your science building? Will that be building so that you can use it for '22-'23? We thought our Chemistry building would be started in time for that, but I fear not. I should think President Blaisdell would go crazy with all the plans in various directions.

I am very happy that Mt. Holyoke has completed so much of the endowment, but I wish it were all done. If you and I had the handling of some millions, what wonders we would accomplish.

Just when I'm trying to scrape together a little for that and a new Parish House here, I have been extravagant enough to invest in a Diamond disc Edison with 30 records; it was being sold at a bargain by some one leaving town and I couldn't resist.

Harriet Glazier was here Commencement week to see young Harriet graduate. I'm planning to spend a day or two with her in August.

The papers talk as if you were having a hot summer; if so, I wish I could enclose some cool air. Our temperature goes to 90° or above during the day, but goes to 65° (one night to 53°) or lower at night. It begins to cool by 4pm. and there is a breeze most of the day.

I want to hear from you, but don't take energy for that when you ought to rest. Worlds of love to you always -

Grace Ella Berry