Clara Gibson Lay

Years ago I transcribed a series of letters written by Clara Eydelle Gibson to Thomas Henry Lay while he was attending a school of osteopathy. Before he left, they had secretly been married. I do not know their reason for concealing the marriage, but I think it might have been a social matter.

June 10, 1913
My dear sweet boy;--

I hope you have arrived safely in Harrison [Arkansas] by this time. I haven't words to express how much I miss you, but dear, I shall make the best of it. Papa and mamma miss you too, and when Papa came home from the station he said, "Clara, I feel quite sure that you have done well as Henry surely is a good boy." You might know how glad I was to have him say it, as he had always been opposed even to the thought of ever having a son-in-law. So I kissed him and thanked him and told him I knew he had judged you right. I am sending some clippings from the Daily Distress, see yours is in sympathy for the little girl you left behind.

Mamma and I went shopping yesterday, got curtains with pink roses for my room, and I got some extra. Enough for your bedroom and mine when I am with you. I have it put away in my trunk, and mama got a tablecloth for us. You know I was trying to get my mind off your being away from me, so we decided to shop a little as it was nice and cool. Mamma got 2 union suits [underclothes]Oh! gee, she would have a duck fit if she knew that I had told you, but I thought maybe it would make you giggle. A man started to wait on her and she let on as tho' she had forgotten what else she wanted, so I reminded her to her sorrow, as she was trying to forget. So she started down the counter to get them, and mamma side-tracked and asked one of the ladies to wait on her. You know mother is as "modest as the violet." Ha! Ha!

Papa said for me to begin my letters, dear brother. I thanked him for the suggestion.

I saw a young man with a straw sailor [hat] yesterday. He was about your size and a block away from me. Of course it made me think of you, but I bit my lips to keep back the tears and looked in another direction.

I looked at the clock at five yesterday. It seemed as tho' you had been gone for a year, and I said something about your not being to K.C. [Kansaas City] yet. Papa said, "Well I guess not. He was given his orders not to arrive in K.C. ahead of time.

As I understand it, the Odd Fellows have completed arrangements for the will and [burial] lots. Mamma was talking to Mrs. Frye over the phone. She said she was tickled to death. Papa saied, "Tickled to death? The poor pitiful thing. Mamma, who was it?" Isn't he the limit?

The fire whistle blew while we were up town yesterday, and I immediately thought, what if it is our house and our marriage certificate? But it proved to be a small blaze in another part of the city.

I just received your letter and card, and I was so glad to hear from you; but when you write again, write a long letter. I am glad you had company to KC.

Dearest, you personal was in the paper last evening, but I imagine someone else has put it in. If she never came to you, she was trying to escape as you say. If she did try, I don't think anyone would try to catch her. Do you? Ha! Ha! Lay, honey, who says we don't know how to escape with a capital E. I wonder why Anna and Jim couldn't do that way. He saw her in the meat market and asked her if she had her yard mowed, said he would be game and come down and mow it for her. She told him that she would attend to the yard. Then he asked her where her brother was burned. Said that he meant to send some flowers with her Decoration Day, but he forgot it. It sounds to me as tho' Ann may move to (east) Illinois before I go to Arkansas.-- Your uncle saw Papa up town and asked if the boy got off allright. Papa told him yes, then your uncle sure sounded your praises to Dad, and I was so very glad. They think so much of you. But no one thinks as much of you as I do because "I've loved you from the start." Remember that song?

Hope to hear from you tomorrow.

Lovingly,
Clara Gibson Lay