July 24, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

I am home. We came back a week ago but I couldn’t write anything because I was so busy talking. I had to tell everyone about Lake Tahoe and the beautiful Hotel and the lovely clothes everyone wore and the fish and the Donners, and in the middle of it my father had to leave. We saw him off just exactly the opposite of the way he arrived. He was on the Ferry with us when we went to Oakland, and we came home without him. I tried to be sad because I knew that I was supposed to be, but I couldn’t be, and on the boat coming back I overheard my Grandmother say to Alma, “What a cold little thing she is.” Alma said that I wasn’t, but I guess I am.

July 17, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

This is our last day here. We are going to see Donner Lake. Donner Lake is named after the “Donner Party.” This kind of party was a group of pioneers and they were not having fun or celebrating. They had the worst time you can ever imagine…

Once upon a time, someone discovered gold in California and then everyone all over the country rushed here to grab as much of the gold as they could get. Some of those people were the Donners. They were a big family, a mother and father and lots of children and aunts and uncles and cousins. Lots of other families came with them. It was a big Wagon Train. One wagon behind the other. They probably thought it was going to be a lot of fun, but the truth is that they never got to California except just past the border. They traveled in great big covered wagons pulled by horses or oxen. The wagons were convenient because they could put so many things into them, like beds and rocking chairs and pots and pans and quilts and sewing things. In those days there were not any railroad trains to California and no nice Hotels or restaurants to stop at on the way. At night they had to build fires so they could cook their food and the fires helped to keep them warm too. Some of them had to stay up every night and watch for Indians. Some of the Indians in the West were friendly but a lot of them weren’t and when they weren’t they killed the white people and burned their wagons and stole their things. Of course, the Indians owned the land and they didn’t invite the white people to come and visit.

Alma always told me that it was very bad manners to go any place if you weren’t invited. You have to send a letter or your card, and now that we have telephones, you can call someone up and just ask if you can visit.

At this time the Donners were traveling it was hard to do these things, and the Indians had their own language. I don’t think the Donners knew it but that part was easy because the truth is the Donners never met any Indians. Everything would have been fine if Mr. Donner hadn’t tried to take a short cut and try to get to California before all the rest of his friends. He told them it would be easy and he was very sure it would be a short cut.

I must stop now because Daddy is ready, and we are going in a few minutes. I will finish this when I get back home.

---

You can see early 20th Century photographs from the area at this link to the Donner Summit Historical Society.

Hilda takes a break from writing and will return on July 24.

July 16, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

There is a beautiful French lady staying at the Hotel and her name is Miss Roux. She wears lovely filmy clothes that you can see through, and she has such beautiful underwear that you wish you could see through that too. Yesterday, as we were sitting in a little pagoda on the edge of the lake, Daddy and Miss Roux were drinking the same yellow drinks that Aunt Tillie and her friends had that day in the pink restaurant, but now I had a strawberry lemonade to sip while I listened to them talk. They were talking quietly when I heard daddy say, “Never tell anyone that you are over eighteen and you certainly can’t be a day over twenty five.” So I said, “Why daddy! You told me that Miss Roux was at least thirty five.” Daddy said that I had confused who he was talking about and that he said it about some other woman, but Miss Roux said that children never lie or get confused, only grown-ups do. When we were alone later, Daddy was a little angry and he asked me how I dared say anything so dreadful. So I just said that I had repeated what he told me. I don’t understand adults. Grandfather said that I never should be afraid to tell the truth, and that was the truth. My father did say it about Miss Roux and no one else.

July 15, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

I couldn’t go to the French people’s party, because it was late at night and Daddy said that there wouldn’t be any other children there and he would tell me all about it in the morning. Every night I have to be in bed at eight o’clock just like at home, and then Father tells me a story and kisses me goodnight and he goes down to be with the grown people. As soon as we woke up and brushed our teeth and dressed, I asked him about the party and if it was fun. He said it was, and he said he drank some bubbly wine but that there were just too many speeches. He hates speeches just like I do, maybe I inherited that from him. He brought me a souvenir from the party, a little blue, red and white rosette like our colors on the flag, but there are no stars. Our colors are Red, White and Blue and the French colors are Blue, White and Red. The Flags of every country have about three colors and they are divided into stripes or patterns, but I don’t think any of them are very pretty, just a lot of color and a lot of waving.

July 14, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

Today is a French holiday. There are a lot of French people at our Hotel, and they are going to have a party. They call it Bastille Day. The French people had a revolution against their King too, but theirs was much worse than ours. My father told me about it. He said….

“Once upon a time, France had a King and Queen. They were very cruel to their people, that is they didn’t beat or burn them, they just forgot all about them and the poor people were forced to pay taxes on every single thing they owned, not just tea and stamps. The farmers had to give the King their cows and pigs and vegetables and fruits off their trees and everything, and they had little for themselves even though it was their land, and they tended and grew what was on the farms. The Queen was a selfish wicked woman. When some good friends of hers came and told her that the people in her land were suffering and did not even have bread to eat she answered, “Well, let them eat cake” and that was an awful thing to say because some of the poor people didn’t even know what cake was. They never saw cake except maybe on their birthday. So one day they all got very angry, and the first thing they did was to open the Bastille. The Bastille is the prison, a big gray stone building full of dungeons and rats and spiders and the King and Queen put everyone into it that they didn’t like. All the prisoners then ran out in the street, and killed all the rich royal lords and ladies and took off their heads, and put them on long poles and ran around scaring everyone with them. Then one day they found the King and Queen who had tried to hide and run away and they took off their heads too and then, they all lived happily ever after.”

July 13, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

I went out on a boat again today. I remembered that it was the thirteenth and I was afraid that maybe something awful would happen, but it didn’t except that I felt very seasick, but I didn’t throw up. Daddy asked the boatman where the best fish were and the boatman said he didn’t know, that all the people on our side of the lake went to the other side to fish and all the people on the other side came to our side to fish but everyone caught about the same amount of fish.

July 12, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

This afternoon we went out in a boat with a few other people from the Hotel. Everyone here is supposed to go fishing but Daddy hates fishing, so we just rode in the boat without trying to get any fish. I was glad because I don’t think I would like to catch a fish. Daddy says, “I like my fish on a silver platter with parsley, butter and lemon.” We saw a few big homes on the shore and we went to Emerald Bay and then out to the middle of the Lake. It was beautiful and scary too. You can see to the bottom of the lake and the colors are shades of blue and green and as we went out to the middle it was a beautiful shade of dark blue. Daddy said it was the color of cobalt. I don’t know what that is, but I’ll ask him.

Photo of Tahoe Tavern, Lake Tahoe. approximately 1910 by Harold A. Parker, photCL 402 (40044), Harold A. Parker Studio Collection of Negatives, The Huntington Library, San Marino, California.

July 11, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

I have never lived in a Hotel. This is a very beautiful one full of nice people all dressed in nice clothes, as if they were going to a party. Everyone at home forgot that I don’t know how to comb my hair and Daddy couldn’t manage to comb it and it was full of snarls so he had to ask one of the maids to come in to help. She had to come in three times a day and comb it as it got messy all the time. She doesn’t do it as nice as Alma but Daddy says that “It at least doesn’t look like a rat’s nest like it did when we arrived after the train ride.”

---

I do not know where Hilda and her father stayed. The photos below were taken of the Tahoe Tavern around 1910.

Photo of Tahoe Tavern, Lake Tahoe. approximately 1910 by Harold A. Parker, photCL 402 (40061), Harold A. Parker Studio Collection of Negatives, The Huntington Library, San Marino, California.

Photo of Tahoe Tavern, Lake Tahoe. approximately 1910 by Harold A. Parker, photCL 402 (40010), Harold A. Parker Studio Collection of Negatives, The Huntington Library, San Marino, California.

July 10, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

We are here in Lake Tahoe. It was fun sleeping on the train, and it was so cozy being in a berth with a curtain in front of it and a hammock for all your clothes. I loved waking up all the time and seeing men running around outside with lanterns. They were fixing the train, but I felt so sorry because they had to work at night. It can’t be much fun for them to be doing their sleeping in the daytime and if they have any children, it must be hard for them to go around the house whispering and their mother’s always saying Shh, Shh, Shh to them. This morning it was lovely to eat breakfast in the dining car and to see all the things outside the window rushing by. Tiny white houses with roses crawling over the, and yards full of cows, pigs, and chickens and horses and hay and lots of dogs and cats and children and old women sitting under trees with baskets full of fruit or holding buckets. Everyone seemed bright-eyed and busy.

When we got off the big train we transferred to a little one, a really tiny one almost as tiny as the one we ride on at the Zoo. It went along the edge of a big brook in the forest and then, all of a sudden, the Hotel stood in front of us with the huge blue Lake Tahoe on the other side.

---

I have fond childhood memories of riding the train at the San Francisco Zoo. The photo below was taken in 1948, but gives us an idea of the one Hilda is writing about.

Photo courtesy of SAN FRANCISCO HISTORY CENTER, SAN FRANCISCO PUBLIC LIBRARY

July 9, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

This morning my father asked me if I would like to go away with him for a few days so we could get acquainted with each other and I said, “Oh yes!” I would even go away with someone who I was not well acquainted with. I was so excited and he went right downtown and bought tickets for Lake Tahoe and we are going there tonight. I am glad and it will be the first time I ever slept on a train.

July 8, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

I am very uncomfortable with my father and I think that he is very uncomfortable with me too. Parents who want to be comfortable with their children should stay with them all the time. I don’t know what to do about it.

July 7, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

We had company all day long. All the people who want to see my father came to visit, but no one asked me to recite or play the piano, so I didn’t have to do anything. Aunt Tillie has been watching me about biting my nails and they have grown and they look nice and she said that if I keep up this good habit, she will take me downtown and treat me to a real manicure, just like grown-ups.

July 6, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

Aunt Tillie had some of her friends to the house today. One of them played the piano and another lady sang and everyone said that she sang so beautifully but I know that she didn’t. She sounded just like an ambulance when it rushes down the street but I didn’t tell her so.

---

The description of Aunt Tillie’s friend’s singing is reminiscent of Florence Foster Jenkins. Hilda is learning self-restraint rather than blurting out every reaction or opinion. At least once in awhile.

July 5, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

I couldn’t write more yesterday because such a lot of people came in to see my father and I had to be polite to them. I want to tell the rest of the Boston Tea Party story…

Well, all the people said that they didn’t want to be ruled by England anymore. Then England was angry and sent a lot of soldiers over here and we didn’t have any soldiers, but all of the farmers took their rakes and hoes and hatchets and they went to their front yards to meet the English soldiers. Some of these soldiers weren’t even English, they were German because the King had hired them to fight for him. We had a wonderful brave man named Paul Revere who jumped on a horse as soon as he knew that the English had landed in America and he rode all night and morning, warning the American people that the English soldiers were coming. The poor horse must have been very tired. Well then we had other brave men like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin, only then they were all English citizens at that time, but they got together and wrote out the Declaration of Independence on a big sheet of paper. It said that we were never again going to be bossed by England and we were never again going to pay any taxes on tea or stamps or anything else. We were going to be free to do anything we pleased. So there was a big war and lots of people were killed and when it was over, there was the United States.

Even so I don’t like the Fourth of July. Everyone shoots firecrackers and hangs out the flag but I hate the noise.

July 4, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

This is the Fourth of July, and it is an important American holiday. Aunt Tillie read me the story of it before I went to bed last night, this is the story…

Once upon at time, the United States, but it wasn’t the United States then, the land belonged to England , but England was not kind to the people who lived here. She made them pay lots of taxes, and that means their money went to England, not all of it but a lot of it, and there was a very heavy tax on tea. It was very cruel to put such a big tax on tea, because everyone liked to have tea parties. Anyhow, one day a lot of men got dressed up in Indian costumes and they went abord a ship that was in Boston harbor and threw all the tea into the water. They called this, “The Boston Tea Party,” but no one could drink the sea water tea. I don’t know how that made any difference, or why they all dressed up as Indians? I do know that we celebrate because we don’t belong to England anymore.

July 3, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

Daddy’s trunk came yesterday afternoon soon after we arrived home. He brought Aunt Tillie lovely long white gloves and velvet pansies and handkerchiefs and perfume, and he brought Grandmother a lace shawl and black gloves and a pretty bag made of lovely beads. Grandfather’s gift is a pair of handsome grey gloves with fur inside them. Pretty is for women and handsome for men, Aunt Tillie taught me the difference yesterday. He brought me so many things. Lots of beautiful hair ribbons and a pretty mother-of-pearl fan for my dancing school and a little white leather purse and a white dress that came from Paris, but he forgot to bring presents for Sherry and Brownie. When I told him he said that he was very sorry that he did forget and he would correct it by buying surprises for them the first time he went downtown.

July 2, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

Daddy came yesterday. We all went across the bay to meet him and it was a lovely day. The sky and water were very blue, different shades bright and dark, and the sea gulls were very white. I fed them cakes just to pass the time of the Ferry Ride. I stole the cakes from the dining room on the boat while we were having hot chocolate. I know I was very excited, and so were my Grandparents. We finally met Daddy at the Southern Pacific Train Station at the other end of the Ferry ride in Oakland. Daddy looks very different, he has no more mustache. He was so happy to see me and he said that he has presents for all of us in his trunk and that the Train Company will send it to him at our home today or tomorrow.

---

Earlier this year I took a ferry to Oakland. Like Hilda, I marveled at the gorgeous blues. Below is a photo from the 1910s of the San Francisco waterfront and one 2022. On each, a red arrow points to the Ferry Building. The final photo is looking north toward the Ferry Building with a row of seagulls in the foreground. Many changes in more than a century, but many things remain the same.

Photo courtesy of SAN FRANCISCO HISTORY CENTER, SAN FRANCISCO PUBLIC LIBRARY

June 30, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

No Sunday School this morning because my father is coming this afternoon.

---

Hilda was too busy with her father to write in her diary. She will return on July 2.

June 29, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

My father will be here tomorrow so I had to learn a poem that I really know already. It is called “The Children’s Hour,” and it was written by an American poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He wrote the poem for his own children. He loved them very much. One daughter was called Allegra. I think that is a most beautiful name and I like it so much better than Hilda. I wish that children were able to name themselves.

---

Hilda wrote the poem in her diary. Below is a typed transcription. She remembered it almost word for word. On the following page of her diary, she included her favorite poem, which she attributed to A.A. Milne. I found “Seven Times One” by Jean Ingelow.

June 28, 1912

From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

The piece I am going to play for my father is a very pretty one. It is called “Auf der Wiese.” That means the meadow and Grandfather said to remember to pronounce the “W” like a “V” in German. How could I forget? Sometimes I think that grown-ups, even Grandfather, just keep reminding children that they are the smartest. The poem I haven’t chosen yet and Alma tells me that I have to hurry up, I only have two days left.

---

Hilda probably played a Mozart song based on a poem by Goethe: Das Veilchen ("The Violet"). The first line is Ein Veilchen auf der Wiese stand (“A violet in the meadow stood”).