No. 77

Chas. in 1885 Insane

Stewart King c/o

John C. Davant, Attorney

501 Cleveland St.

Clearwater Florida

December 28, 1938

Dear Stewart,

Another letter about Esther, the wife of your uncle Charles. Your mother told me Esther swore that a waif found at the doorstep of a neighbor was a child of hers, believed that she had twins at her last confinement. Esther swore that Doctor attending her had taken one to this neighbor. "You know," your mother said, "Esther was a twin herself but lost that sibling as a child. She was from a family badly balanced. Mother hysterical! Pathetic that Charles—he was so naïve—only found out the severity and shame after the marriage was signed and sealed.”

December 3, 1885

Dear M—Took E—to board of commissioners Tuesday. Deemed insane. Ordered to take her to Independence. Telling all that this time is for her rest only, that was the only way she would pack. Did not throw a fit. Said she was pleased to get away from rut and ruin. Claims I held her captive. Reported she had more children—a set of twins— and nurse went along to admit. Again with the twins —Yours, Chas.

When your mother and I were talking about this letter from Charles, I was attending to the ironing in the kitchen. The clothing and tablecloths had just been pulled in from the line. I was smoothing out the wrinkles in the napkins before they were to be ironed, laying them on top of one another, spraying them with a bit of water sprinkled from the scrubbing brush, just as written according to the law of Maria Parloa. I was sprinkling them and thinking of Charles, yes, and Esther, yes, of course, and wanting to smooth away their wrinkled lot, yes, but also thinking of my priest and confessor, who I had just visited that morning, and how he sprinkling me, in a way, reminding me to be patient, reminding me to sin no more, and here I was now with the napkins, rolling them, just a little damp now, like I was myself a little damp from the confessional, from the renewal.

The napkins I had pulled in from the line were not ready for ironing, but I was folding them for the ironing, that would come later in the day or even tomorrow. First, I had to fold all the laundry from the line in a certain way so that the ironing would go more quickly, more smoothly.

“Goes to show,” Mary sighed, “I warned him of the low classes, in and out of the lodges with all of these kinks in their families. He should have in church, but he wouldn’t listen. Now it is in his children, this heredity. And poor Father had to see that up close, after all he has done for us, but especially Charles most of all. To think upon it now, even after all is by-gone and over and done with, just to satisfy your curiosity Minnie. Why just alone it causes me offense to even think about how my father had to look straight at that reality, well, it bothers me to this very day, the disloyalty.”

Losing track of time, I looked for how the sun was coming in. Would I have time to finish this pre-folding? Soon it would be time to unfold the damp napkins, but I was thinking I didn’t want them to dry like that, all rolled up.

I was looking forward to see if Maria Parloa was correct, to see if by taking the time before, by folding or rolling up the fresh laundry to be ironed in her method, why yes, it was true, I later found out, that by loving the task in front of you, I could, smooth things out for my employer, and in a strange way, smooth things out for Charles and even you, Stewart, when you are ready. And when your mother stopped talking about how bad things were going to get for Charles, I moved on to the tablecloths. Pleased that I remembered to start with the smaller items. By removing these smaller things first, I could in fact find pleasure in the bigger things that acted as if they could bully me into being overwhelmed.

—Miss Minnie

Copyright 2025 Christine Friesel