Sister Julia was born on April 3, 1907. She was the second child in the family and was four years old when we moved to North Dakota.

One of her first remembrances was of a dress that she did not care for. It was a yellow and black plaid. It had a round pleated collar and on the end of the long sleeves were pleated cuffs. Mama had spent so much time in making it. She did most of the sewing for the family late at night when the rest of us were blissfully sleeping. Little Julia, tender-hearted and obedient, never told mother how she felt about it. She was expected to wear it so of course she did so without complaining.

Although our family had no modern conveniences, we could boast of having a bath tub. There was probably a drain for it but all the water had to be heated on the Majestic cook stove and carried into the tub. One warm summer day Julia had finished her bath but was playing around. There was an open window near. She stood up on the edge of the tub and leaned out of the window. I don't know why she leaned so far out, but all at once she fell out onto the ground. Only her pride was hurt as it was a short distance to the ground. She quickly picked herself up and ran around the house to the kitchen door. Mama was there, and how surprised she was to behold her second daughter enter clad in nothing. I'm sure Julia never tried that stunt again, and the rest of us, no doubt, learned a lesson from her escapade.

When she was in the first grade she gave the opening recitation at the school's Christmas program. It was a welcome verse -

"I have three kisses sweet to give.
One to father, kind and true
One to mother, while I Live
And all the rest I give to you"

She spoke loud and clearly. As she blew the third kiss to the packed audience, there was much joyful and amused applause. Now that she'd completed her part in the program, her only desire was to sit with Mama and Papa. The aisles were filled so she couldn't walk through but her problem was quickly solved. The tiny girl was picked up and handed back through the crowd until she reached her destination. She was most surprised but very pleased and never did forget the incident.

When she was about six years old, Papa took her to St. Paul, Minnesota, to have some corrective work done on a hip joint. She remembers the Catholic sisters and their kindness to her as she was quite alone. Papa had to leave her there after a few days and go back to the farm. When it was time for her to be released, Mama took Isabel, 9, brother Clarence, 6 months, and me, 3 or 4, on the train to bring her home. Before we started for home, Mama took us to have our pictures taken. There was one of Isabel and Julia together. Mother had purchased a canary bird for Julia so she held the little cage containing the bird when the picture was taken. Sister Isabel stood beside her. She was wearing two pretty plaid hair ribbons. Then baby brother Clarence and I were taken together. He was a fat baby with curls all over his head. Mother had dressed him in a white suit. I wore a white dress with black button shoes. Clarence did not enjoy having his picture taken. In his distress he reached out for me - someone familiar that was near. Those old photos mean so much now. I'm sure Mama did not realize then how much they would be prized about 60 years later.

Sister Julia was always so very limber and agile. I remember how she'd turn somersaults. She'd roll herself up into a little ball, then over she'd go with no trouble at all. I used to want to do it, too, but was always afraid to try. Then, too, she would stand on her head in a corner. I never once would try that. There was another accomplishment of hers that was the most amazing of all. She learned to walk on Mama's wire clothesline. It sagged some so it was not far from the ground. I would watch as she performed this feat. I don't think she ever walked the whole length of the wire but she would take ten or twelve steps before she'd slip off, but she always tried again. Every time Mama had clothes to hang out the line would have to be tightened. In between washings, Julia caused it to sag again. I don't think Mama minded the inconvenience but was glad Julia was so capable and agile.

She was always so willing to help Mama. The summer she was seven, brother Clarence was nine months. He was a heavy child and Julia was so small, but she'd hold him and carry him around, especially when Mama would be preparing a meal. Isabel would help with the meal; Julia would hold and amuse Clarence. I probably just got in the way and was a nuisance more or less. Meal time could be quite hectic if a baby was screaming, so I know Julia was a big help to Mama.

Of course, she always did her share of work, too. None of us were very big when Papa would have us go out into the wheat fields to pull the tall stalks of yellow mustard that grew wild. There was only one way to get rid of it and that was to pull it out. To this day when I see yellow mustard growing, I remember the North Dakota days when we did our best to eliminate it from the wheat fields. Our labor was in vain most of the time as we had very few good wheat crops but that is besides the point. Papa told us to pull it, so we did.

I have already mentioned how Isabel and Julia would help Papa shock the grain and put up hay. Some nights when Julia went to bed she'd nearly cry - she was so very tired. No doubt her muscles ached all over and she could hardly take one more step. If my brothers had been born first and we girls last, I do not believe Papa would have had any better or more willing help that he had from his two older daughters, Isabel and Julia.

One time Papa took both of them to town and bought them pretty summer hats. Of course, they had to wear them on the trip home behind the horses. They were both so proud and happy over their new head gear. What a delightful surprise was in store for Mama and the rest of us at home. But, on the way it rained. However, it did not occur to them to remove their new hats. By the time they arrived home the pretty flowers were drooping and also fading onto the straw. In fact, the once dainty, charming head adornments were almost ruined. Mama was quite provoked. She was willing for them to have the new hats but she felt they should have known better than to have worn them in the rain. No doubt she blamed Papa some, too. Of course, Isabel and Julia felt worse than anyone. They had looked forward to wearing them proudly to church all summer, but now they looked quite bedraggled. Julia does not remember the final outcome but no doubt after they had dried, Mama took them in hand. After some refurbishing they were quite wearable again many more times. The initial joy was gone but a hard, valuable lesson had been learned.

Sister Julia recalls playing on the almost flat roof of a machine shed. During the long summer evenings we three girls would climb up on the roof to play games and have programs. We would recite poetry, sing and act out little plays. How well I remember Isabel reciting "Crossing the Bar" on one occasion and another time , "Into the Valley of Death Rode the 600". There was no one around to see or hear us so I assume we entered in with much zeal and really played our parts to the best of our ability. We had no reason to be overcome by extreme shyness which might in other circumsta nces cause us to forget our lines. We had the privilege of seeing the sun go down in a blaze of glory. There were no hills or ridges on the flat prairie to obstruct our view. One could see for long distances in clear weather. We would lie down on our blacks on that flat roof and watch the moon rise and the stars come out. Fortunate was the one who spied the first star as then a wish was made!

"Star light, star bright
First star I've seen tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish that I wish tonight!"

Thinking back over it all, I wonder how many of those childish girlish wishes came true! There would be many night sounds to listen to. We'd hear the occasional moo of a cow, the bawling of a calf separated from its mother, the stamping and snorting of weary work horses. There would be the sleepy twitter of birds as they nestled down for the night. Then, too, there was the ever present buzz of hungry, huge mosquitoes. The darkness slowly enfolded us and we were each wrapped in our individual wishes and dreams. Then Mama would call and we knew what that meant. Our stage careers were interrupted until another time.

Recently I heard a prominent Christian speaker tell about how poor he was when he was growing up, but he said he never knew that he was poor. I know how hard life was in stern North Dakota, but we were truly blessed with all the things that lead to true joy and I don't think that we ever considered ourselves poor. Certainly we were rich in all the things that counted.

One time Julia was home alone. She'd been ill and missed some school. Mama had gone to town, taking brother Clarence and me. Papa stayed in the house with her for a while but he had to go out to a field. He told her which field and would come back as soon as he could. The time seemed too long for Julia so she decided to go find Papa. At first she could not see him at all. Then finally she saw someone coming from an adjoining field. This frightened her as she could not tell if it were Papa or not. As the man drew closer, what a relief it was to know that it was Papa and not a stranger. He explained to her that he had gone to a neighbor's house which caused him to be in another field. The two walked home, hand in hand. Little Julia felt as a wanderer does when he finally puts his hand into the Heavenly Father's hand. Then all fear is gone. It has been replaced by love and peace.

There was a rule in the school district that required a child to be 6 years old before he could enter school. Julia's birthday was in April. The winter before she was six she really begged to go to school with Isabel. An allowance was made and she went to school two days a week. How pleased she was. She was the youngest and smallest but a very willing worker. By the time she was six and could go full time she had made considerable progress in the first grade.

One day Mama was writing a letter to her sister in Wisconsin. Julia wanted to send a sample of her writing to her Aunt Helen so Mama wrote these words: "The Little Red Hen" for her to copy. Julia proceeded to copy them several times. The more times she copied, the worst her writing became. Before Mama put it in the envelope with her letter, she wrote below, "The more she wrote, the worse it was." The letter that enclosed this bit of paper was recently given to me by cousin Wesley Blake. He was Aunt Helen's oldest child. I gave the letter to sister Julia. I trust that she will leave it to one of her descendants. I'm sure it will be treasured.

The canary bird of Julia's became a family pet. He had been named Dickie and he was a beautiful singer. His cage was equipped with a little swing. He'd perch on this and swing back and forth. He especially liked to sing if Mama would be running the sewing machine or if someone was playing the organ. Of course his cage had to be cleaned daily and fresh water and food provided several times a day.

One day a neighbor family was at our house. One of the little girls said to Julia, "My, you have a lot of chairs!" Julia thought it a strange remark and thought to herself, "Why not?" She was glad we had them and assumed that all families did. Evidently there was a shortage at the house of that family.

Our closest neighbors, the Baumgardners, had four daughters. One day they came to our house to play. The oldest girl, Annie had a towel wrapped around her face. It was under her chin and then tied on top of her head. The ends of the towel stuck up in the air. Julia thought they looked like rabbit ears and gave Annie a very funny appearance. Of course we all wanted to know why she was tied up in this fashion. We were all amazed when she told us she had the mumps. Her mother had allowed her to come. By the time Mama found out, it was too late to do anything about it. We all took turns having the mumps that summer, to varying degrees of severity. Worst of all, Papa came down with them, too. He was quite ill and tried to take it easy but never really stopped working. Then our hired man had them. He couldn't understand how he'd ever caught them. He hadn't realized that Papa had them and had not paid any attention to any of us children. I do not think he was very bright! Mama had had the "good fortune" to have them when she was a child so she was able to care for all of us during the siege. Probably there was a time or two when she wished most sincerely that Annie had been kept in the confines of her own home. I assume that the disease spread from Annie to the other members of the Baumgardner family as well.

Another time Julia recalls several children coming to play. They were not at all clean. Their hands and faces were dirty as well as their clothing. This proved to be very distressful to Isabel and Julia. They put their heads together and determined to clean up the smallest one at least. They found a little dress that Julia had outgrown. They washed the child's face and hands. They combed her tangled hair and tied on one of Julia's hair ribbons. They put the clean dress on her. How nice she looked, and how pleased. I'm sure Isabel and Julia were very happy girls. I do not know if these children ever came back or not. We never knew what the poor overworked mother's reaction was when she saw her youngest daughter that day when she arrived home. Julia's and Isabel's natures were kindness personified. They would not have offended or hurt the mother's feelings under any circumstances.

Then there were the playhouses under the choke-cherry trees. Mama would let us fasten up old sheets or blankets to make the walls. We were adept at improvising furniture. Our playhouses were quite lavish and what fun we had. When a part of the big hayloft over the barn was empty, Papa would let us have a playhouse up there. Then we didn't have to make a sudden dash if it rained. One time Julia and Isabel were enjoying an afternoon snack of corn flakes and sugar in the playhouse. I came into the barn looking for them. I called up and asked them what there were doing. Isabel said, "We're eating," but I thought she said, "We're reading." As I had not yet learned to do that, I was not especially interested so did not join them. Later I found out what they had been doing and was highly insulted to have been left out. Corn flakes were my favorite food. Quite often I was just a nuisance - too little to do this or that, but always wanting to tag along and so make everyone miserable - more or less.

We had a croquet set. Julia and Isabel became skillful players. They didn't want me to play with them because I did so poorly and spoiled their fun. I would howl when one of my balls was knocked way out. They would tell me to go and play with baby brother, Clarence.

Sometimes Julia would walk in her sleep. We girls slept upstairs. One night Julia went downstairs. It woke Mama; she asked Julia what she wanted. Julia's reply was "I do not know." Then Mama realized that she was walking in her sleep. She and Papa finally woke her and she wanted to know what she was doing downstairs, but back up she went and there were no more unusual wande rings the rest of the night.

Julia remembers that we could not drink water from the well as it was alkaline and had a very bad taste. Also it could cause one to become ill. Sometimes we would go to a neighbor's for drinking water and the rest of the time we drank water from our cistern - and thrived!

If we started to develop a cold, Mama would make us hot lemonade to drink. Then we'd sit by the fire with our feet in scalding hot water. At least it seemed that way to us. When it became almost bearable, Mama would add a little more of the hot water! This went on until we were quite thoroughly parboiled. We'd dry our feet and put on a pair of heavy warm socks. Then we'd be rolled into bed with plenty of warm covers. If we had a severe cough that a dose or two of Pinex cough syrup did not check, Mama would come with an ice cold wet washcloth. She would place this over our neck and chest, cover it with a folded dry towel, and tuck us in again. Invariably our coughing ceased. This was an old-time remedy for coughs that our maternal grandfather (who was an M.D.) had used. I also used this method for my own children. One of the few, few times we were ever taken to a doctor was to have vaccination for smallpox. Julia and the rest of us were glad for Mama's home remedies. If we were stung by a bee, wet soda was applied. If we stepped on a nail, the foot was soaked in a solution of epsom salts water. Cuts were bandaged with an application of good old Watkins healing salve. Mama's words of assurance and her calm and confident manner would allay our fears and soon we'd be all mended. Mother told us that Old Mother Nature was a kind lady.

I wish to relate another incident concerning hats. One Sunday when we were coming home from church we had to take them off as it was so windy. We put them down under the surrey seat for safe keeping. When we arrived home, we reached down for them but they were gone!. The capricious wind had blown them out and we didn't even have any idea that this had happened. No doubt they were still on the move, rolling across the flat prairie as the tumble weeds did - mile after mile. Life in North Dakota was often hard and unpleasant but it was never dull!

Mama always insisted that we girls should set the table properly. Teaspoons were kept in a spoon holder in the center of the table, along with the sugar bowl and salt and pepper shakers. The knives and forks went on the right side of the plate just so. Papa could never tolerate a bent fork. We had to be careful to always give him a well-shaped one. Sometimes Julia and I would giggle about something at the table. Then Papa would frown and ask us what was funny. We really didn't know what we were laughing at. Always it was that way with Julia and I - it didn't take much to set us off into gales of laughter. We did try to control ourselves at the table and be obedient to Papa but we were not always successful.

One day at school, Julia asked one of her girl friends to stay all night with her. So after school that day, four girls walked into our house instead of the usual three. This really took Mama by surprise. She had been busy sewing most of the day and had let the housework go. She told us to go outside to play a while. That gave her a chance to put things in order and start supper. We realized that Mama was not too happy that time with unexpected company.

Torrential rainstorms would often sweep across the prairie. One storm Julia will never forget. A neighbor and his grown daughter were caught in this storm on their way home from town. They took shelter at our house. How drenched they were. The young girl's hair was dripping. While she dried it with a towel, Mama sent Julia upstairs for a comb. The floor was wet causing Julia to slip and fall. She cut a large gash in her knee. She did bring the comb; the knee had to be bandaged and tears wiped away. Of course the puddles upstairs had to be mopped up. Our roof was sound, but this storm was so severe there was no way to keep the water from coming in. The gash on Julia's knee left a scar that to this day is a grim reminder of that terrible rainstorm.

Water also came up in our cellar. It was so very clear and cold. There was a creature swimming around it - to our surprise. At first we thought it must be a fish but Papa said it was a lizard, as it had a long tail. Whatever happened to it Julia does not recall. Life in North Dakota surely could be exciting sometimes!

On long winter evenings, after our lessons were finished, sometimes we'd play school or put on plays. Mama would let us put up a curtain to draw. We'd speak pieces we'd memorized at school and act out stories. Of course we used makeshift costumes. What fun it was. Mama, Papa, and little brother Clarence were our appreciative audience.

We had many ways to entertain ourselves. We learned to play cats-cradle and make crows feet with string. We'd string a large button on string and make a buzzer. Winding it up quickly and then pulling briskly on it caused it to go very fast and produce a delightful buzz. But woe if it got caught in anyone's hair! That was one home made toy that we used with great care.

We always had the use of a blackboard. Besides being useful when we were doing our homework, we would play games of tic-tac-toe. We also had checkers, dominoes, and the card games of Flinch and Old Maid. Of course there was the old foot treadle organ to play and our nightly hymn sing before we went to bed. The wind might be howling outside and temperatures dropping very low, but the ising- glass in the hard coal heater glowed red and we were warm. In spite of the daily struggles that Mama and Papa endured, our house and hearts were warmed by their love and there was a peace and stability that is woefully lacking in many homes today. Truly we were children most blest.

The winter that cousin Wesley Blake stayed with us was a memorable one. He was always ready for fun and of course he went to the neighborhood parties with us where he was always welcomed. And he was admired by some of the young ladies there. There was one girl that he especially was fond of. Her name was Lana Moffit and was in the same class in school as Julia. One Sunday she had received permission from her parents to go home with us after church. Wesley had promised to take her home by 6 p.m. and that without fail. The afternoon passed quickly. To save time, Wesley decided to take her in the car. The ground was covered with frozen snow so all was going well when suddenly the car sunk down and refused to go any further. A neighbor lived not far away so he came with shovels. He and Wesley shoveled for a long time but to no avail. They finally gave up and then Wes walked back to our house, hitched a team to the bobsled and drove Lana home. She was four hours late! The house was lighted and as they approached they could see Lana's parents pacing back and forth. Lana insisted that Wes leave before she went in. He finally did. As he drove off, her dad came to the door and yelled, "Don't come back here again!" "I won't sir," was Wes' reply. We never knew what transpired between the anxious waiting parents and their daughter, but evidently Lana was able to convince them of the truth. Later her father met Wes on the street in town and apologized for his hasty manner and did invite him to come again. He did so, but took Isabel and Julia with him.

Wesley always liked to tease and enjoyed a good joke. Julia remembers one time she noticed that he was chewing pink gum. She'd not seen that kind before. He told her if she'd chew her gum a certain way, it would turn pink too. So she tried it but nothing happened. After she'd become quite discouraged he gave her a stick of his - probably teaberry.

Wesley always enjoyed the parsnips that we had in very early spring. After he had gone home he wanted his mother to fix them like his Aunt Jo did - just fry them. She attempted this but they were not like Mama's. Wesley did not realize that they had been boiled until tender and then browned.

Julia remembers walking the one-half mile to our mail box once in awhile. One time Isabel was making the trip. She met a skunk on the bridge. Of course she was frightened but the skunk caused her no trouble - just went on about his business.

Julia can remember when our maternal grandparents came to see us one time. Another time Grandpa Shaw came alone and also she recalls one of Papa's sisters, our Aunt Ida, came to see us. She was living then in Minnesota.

Julia became quite skillful on the old organ. Besides many hymns, she learned to play "Mosquito Waltz." It was a lively, pretty piece. One summer we had two ladies staying at our house. They were holding a number of evangelistic meetings in the country church. They complimented Julia on her skill and thought that "Mosquito Waltz" was a very pretty piece. Mother told us afterwards that she was relieved at their reaction as she feared they might feel the music was too worldly!

Julia remembers the lovely Halloween night when she and Isabel went to a neighbors' to a party. They were allowed to go alone in our Model T, with capable Isabel at the wheel. It was an unseasonably warm night with a bright moon shining. There were pretend scary things at the party but all in all they had a wonderful, unforgettable time. No doubt that was about the last time the Ford was driven that fall. The radiator would be drained and it was tucked away for the long cold winter ahead. Horses and bobsleds were much more dependable.

One fall Papa took Isabel and Julia to the County Fair with him. The highlight for Julia was the purchase of two red Tam-O-Shanters - one for each of them. Julia truly liked hers and wore it considerably for several years.

When Julia graduated from the 8th grade, we had made several moves and we were attending a consolidated school. Most of the girls planned to wear white dresses. I remember Mama made her a white skirt and a white blouse. This was an important event in Julia's life because she knew that when fall came she would be attending high school in Wahpeton, thirty miles away. She and Isabel would live together there. Isabel was to be a junior that fall. I'm sure the summer passed too quickly for all of us. I had missed Isabel so much but now dear sister Julia would be away from me, too. Things were happening that sort of overwhelmed me. I'm sure Julia felt much worse than I did - but at least she would not be alone, as Isabel had been when she had first gone. Mama had found a place where they could do light housekeeping. I think they had just one large room. They had a small oil stove on which they cooked. Mama would send along food when they came home. A trustworthy family lived downstairs.

There was an Indian school for children in Wahpeton but evidently the Indians were allowed to attend the high school. Julia remembers the Indian girl who was in her class and sat directly across from her. It made a deep impression on her. As she was very shy, she probably never gained enough courage to befriend the Indian lass; no doubt she was equally shy.

Julia remembers taking sewing her freshman year. She learned to make all the different kinds of seams. The first garment was a pair of dark green satin bloomers sewed with flat fell seams.

Both sisters were always glad to spend an occasional weekend at home. And how glad we all were to see them and how good Mama's cooking tasted to them. The time always went too fast and soon it was time to pack the clean clothes and the food. Papa would take them to the town, Barney, about five miles away where they would board the train for the 30 mile ride to Wahpeton. The train station was several blocks from their rooming house. There was no way to reach their destination except to walk and carry suitcases and all the other parcels. The muscles that had been developed pitching hay and shocking grain many summers were now put to good use. This was all part of getting an education. The stairs would finally be climbed with a final effort, with everything intact. The clean clothes were put away, and the fresh food supply cared for. Thoughts had to turn from home and be sternly directed to Monday morning. There would be new things to learn, new friends to make - Julia really wanted to stay in this whole new world that she had entered, but I'm sure she realized the void that was left in the family at home. If tears were shed, I'm sure that they were concealed (hopefully) from faithful and trustworthy sister Isabel. Little Julia was fast growing up!

The account of my sister, Julia, during our years in North Dakota would not be complete without some information about our youngest brother, Ralph. He was born on October 3, 1917. One morning when Isabel, Julia, brother Clarence and I got up, our mother was not busy in the kitchen as she usually was. She was not even up! What a surprise for us to see her still in bed with a tiny baby boy beside her. Also, a strange lady was there to manage our household for a week or so.

Our little brother had big brown eyes and rosy cheeks, a very beautiful child. He was named Ralph Grant Blake. The Grant was from our father's brother I remember that day at school I told my classmates that I had a new baby brother. One girl would not believe me. She said, "Oh, you just mean your little brother, Clarence." "No," I declared, "I have a tiny new baby brother. I know what I'm talking about. You can come and see him if you wish." Sister Julia was 10 when he was born. I know she helped care for brother Clarence when he was little. But now she was a very great help in caring for Baby Ralph. As I remember, he did require much care. As he thrived and grew, he became very adventuresome. He'd go flying around the house in his walker not noticing what or whom he might bump into. He'd climb up on a chair and then from there get onto the table. Then he'd proceed to simply walk off. Always there had to be someone there to catch him. He loved to climb up stairways, but didn't know how to return! I know sister Julia rescued him from many catastrophes. There never was a dull moment when he was awake.

When he was about two, this incident occurred. His high chair was drawn up to the table at meal time. One day he turned in his chair and put his feet over in mother's lap. Mother was surprised but before she could make any comment, he said, "Cause I love you!" 'Twas an unforgettable moment for all of us.

One day our parents took brother Clarence with them and went to town. We three girls were to take care of Ralph. He was asleep in his baby carriage when they left. All of a sudden we heard a crash and a scream. Ralph had awakened, stood up in the carriage, turned around and faced the back part of it. Evidently he'd reached for the handle bar, causing the carriage to tip backwards and little Ralph fell with it, striking his mouth on the handle bar. We rushed to his aid as fast as we could and were very upset at what we saw. Blood was streaming from his mouth and of course he was terrified at this sudden and unexpected turn of events. We were very frightened, too. When the blood was washed away, we saw a small cut on his upper lip and one front tooth had been pushed back a ways into the gum. When mother and dad came home, we were greatly relieved. Little Ralph in his baby way tried to tell mother what had happened to him. She comforted all of us and did not blame us three sisters for what had happened. She knew how active and adventuresome her youngest child was. She knew accidents can happen, that we all loved our little brother very much and would never let any harm come to him intentionally. And she could see how very sorry we were.

The winter Ralph was three, he became very ill. Mother used all the home remedies that she had. No doubt she consulted our big Dr. Book. Nothing seemed to help. As I remember, nothing was said about taking him to a doctor. He may not have survived the long trip. He did much crying and fussing. Finally he did recover. Several years later after we'd returned to Illinois, a doctor looked into Ralph's throat and asked when he'd had diphtheria!! So then we kne w what had caused him such misery that winter in frigid, snow-locked North Dakota, miles away from a doctor.

Sister Julia recalled one very windy day. Mother and Ralph were the only ones home. Dad was probably in the field and the rest of us all at school. Mother had some chores outside and Ralph was with her. A strong gust of wind caught the big open door to a machine shed and swung it shut. Mother and Ralph came very, very close to being struck by it. It was a narrow escape. So easily it could have been a terrible tragedy but we knew that God was taking care of them. He always cares for His own and even sends guardian angels to keep us from harm. So good and so gracious is our loving and mighty God!

As Ralph grew older, he was a very strong-willed child. Often he'd be disobedient and there would be turmoil in our house. He was always so determined to have his own way. The fall he was six was when we returned to Illinois. Julia remembers being selected to go with him to the first grade room on his first day there. He cried and didn't want to stay. His teacher would sometimes have Julia come to his room and stay with him awhile. I'm sure that her presence brought comfort to Ralph but it was always embarrassing to Julia. She was always an obedient girl and did what she could for her unhappy little brother.

The fall of 1922 was when we moved back to Illinois. We'd been in North Dakota for eleven years. Julia and I often wondered what our lives would have been like if we'd remained there. We had all married and had homes of our own here in Illinois, when mother died in May 1940. Clarence and Ralph both did their part during World War II.

When Ralph was only 34, he became very ill. Nothing seemed to help. He died in August 1951. An autopsy showed that he had cancer. Such a loss for all our family. He left his sweet and faithful wife, Phyllis, a 4-year-old son, Kris, and a two-year-old daughter, Angela. Dad was in a wheelchair in a nursing home at the time. As a widow, I and my four children depended on Ralph in many ways, and he was always so good and helpful to us. It just seemed like he was needed by so many and his passing left such a void in our lives.

Julia was at the hospital the evening Ralph died. Phyllis had gone to freshen up a bit and soon returned. Julia was with him when he turned to her and said, "I am glad you are here!" Those were his final words to his loving and faithful sister, Julia.

[Ed. Note -- As these files were being placed online in June 2001, Ralph Blake's daughter Angela - Mrs. Ralph Galliford - was in Castle Rock, CO, not far from my family. We visit, several times a year. Of the Blake family's efforts as North Dakota settlers, grandson Clarence Russell Hughes would write in 1976: "Much speculation can be drawn about the lives and marriage of Amos and Josephine Blake. They escaped from a life of assured plenty to one of poverty and hardship. Their daughter and my mother, Bertha Helen, has described to me that at no time did they ever complain or comment on the evident error they made with respect to their sale of the Bradford area land. Amos stated in a letter near the end of his life that their marriage was free from "dissension." We would truly hope so."]

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