DORA (WILEY) KEY  

Three and one half miles southeast of Sidney, Ohio in Orange Township and in the log house built and first occupied by my grandparents, Francis and Mary Jane (CROZIER) WILEY, I the first child of George William and Mary Caroline (LANE) WILEY was born on June 9, 1869. At the time of my birth father was reading David Copperfield and admired his wife very much, Jane being the middle name of both grandparents that were present, I was named Dora Jane. In later years reading the book I was glad I only earned the name. However, I always felt I had a great deal of McCawber in my make up. I was always optimistic enough to realize that things that annoyed us did not last always and felt sure that things were brighter just around the corner.

For everything that happens wrong

            A dozen things go right.

For every tear a flood of storms

Rings out across the night.

For every dark and stormy day

A week of days are fair.

However dull the clouds and gray

Tis always bright somewhere.

For every heart of bitterness

A host-of-hearts are light.

To every hour of dark distress

A whole day is bright.

To every faithless friend we find

That many friends are true.

So after all, Gods mighty kind

To such as you and I.

That, I began or at least I can remember my sister India in her long clothes. She was born Aug. 28, 1871. While she was an infant my mother and father visited his parents at Texas, Ohio. While there, grandfather took me in his arms and we watched a canal boat on the old Ohio Canal go through the locks. I never saw it again but I retain a mental picture of the operation. In my early childhood I spent a lot of time at Aunt Kate’s. Grandma LANE (Eliza Jane (JACKSON) KEY lived with her. I suppose they found it necessary to punish me at times. This was their method. Straw under the rag carpet could be so manipulated as to imply mice. I took refuge on a lounge and nothing would entice me off until the cat came in. At home a different punishment was administered. Father had what he called a shaving horse. It was a bench with a clamp on top and a treadle that he could hold solidly a piece of wood with his foot. With a drawknife he made a shingle. I was not only afraid of it, but as I must sit astride, it was uncomfortable. The mere mention of it was all I needed. My constant companion as a child was a great black and white Newfoundland dog. I often used him as a pillow for a nap. On Mar. 2, 1873 brother Will was born. Alone, mother knew she must have help. It was evening. Our house stood near the middle of the farm - just a road or lane cut through the woods to the main road. She bundled me up and sent me to get help at the LONGLEY's who lived on the main road. All went well until I discovered horses between the house and me. I mounted the gate and screamed. When they finally found me, Mrs. LONGLEY and her grown daughters rushed to mother. One of the boys went horse back for a doctor to Sidney. The old man cared for me. My hands were frostbitten. He took me on his lap and rubbed my hands with snow, put me to bed. They took me home next morning. Whether it was the part I played in this event, or not, this brother and I have always been very close to each other - and our admiration and affection has grown steadily as the years go by. Even in our childhood play we managed to be very understanding.  

Aunt Sally was with us a lot and I loved her so much. She used to tell me how I had so often embarrassed her. One of her friends, Geo. CROW, I was very fond of and always helped entertain him. Aunt Kate had given me a chemise her adopted daughter had outgrown. It was trimmed in crochet lace and insertion. To me it was beautiful. Sitting on his lap one night, I concurred the idea he would think so too. I got it, and at that time it must have been an ordeal. He married and always lived near us but never forgot to tease me a lot.  

Uncle Johnston WILEY who lived at Texas (Ohio) often visited us and I went home with him. A train from Sidney took us to Tontongany and then a boat across the Maumee River. We must have left on a late train once. I remember Aunt Jennie and Ross CROZIER met us. We crossed in the dark; Grandma had supper ready to eat. Uncle Johnston was so proud of my curls. It tangled so and I disliked having it combed. Thinking it would have to be cut, I filled it with burrs and then patted them in. Uncle Johnston and mother's bother Jake (Jacob LANE) sharpened matches and took turns picking them out. I never tried that again.  

I remember so many things around this time. I am so glad my mother figured with it all. It is such a joy to recall these things.  

On Feb. 5, 1875, brother Joe was born. Three days later she passed away (Mary Caroline (LANE) WILEY). I can live over and over those three days. She begged father to care for her babies. The significance of it all had not penetrated then. How little we three children realized that as we looked at ourselves in her highly polished coffin that it contained the one dearest possession a child could have - our mother. I was never jealous of anything my friends had, but I was always envious of a girl who had a mother. I recall how terribly cold it was the day we laid her away. Our only convenience an open spring wagon. The man who took me so tenderly in his arms and held me while they lowered the coffin I never forgot. He was David RICHIE father of Wilda (RICHIE) PRICE.  

Left with four children, father must have felt he had a load. His mother came on a telegram and never left for a day. She was quite crippled and was unable to care for the baby. It was then that Mrs. Joseph McCLUSKY came forward and offered to care for the baby. He won his way into the hearts of the family. He was named for Mr. McCLUSKY -Joseph Herbert. I have always felt that we were deeply indebted to them as a family. As soon as father could get away he took me and we went to Texas (Ohio) to pack grandmother's furniture and bring Aunt Jennie and grandfather home with us. I took great comfort in the thought that Aunt Jennie would take mother's place with us. She had other plans and while we were there she was married to J.W. GEERING who owned a general store there. Like a stroke of lightening from a clear sky I discovered on the morning of her wedding. They had me all dressed and childlike all the extra preparations meant nothing t me. I was allowed to watch them dress her. When they placed a white wreath on her head over her beautiful curls I seemed to fully realize the significance of it all and burst in an uncontrollable flood of tears. I refused to be comforted. Cried all through the ceremony. Couldn't be induced to kiss either of them. To pacify me they took me to the store and I was allowed my choice of a doll. I selected the largest one, china, perhaps ten inches tall. Before I left Aunt Jennie made it a complete outfit. Long after the doll was broken I cherished those clothes. It was the only doll I ever had - sister India never had any. There were several guests at the wedding, among them Anna M. WRIGHT, afterward Mrs. Johnson C. WILEY, Mr. GEERING took us to his farm, just outside the village. Besides aunt and uncle there was grandfather, father, Uncle J.C., Miss WRIGHT and myself.

I stayed there until the furniture was packed. It was placed in a wagon bed on sleds and we crossed the Maumee River on the ice. The next day after the wedding a dinner was given in his home.  

With the assistance of a housekeeper and grandfather we got along fine. When the baby was three months old grandmother had him brought home. Dear old grandpa was so kind to we children. One of my memories is of him with a babe in his arms singing the Twenty-third Psalm. Will was very much attached to me. He was too large for me to pick up so I would go back of him, put my arms around his neck and drag him. He often declared his long neck (not too long) was the result.  

My education probably started with what was called the spring term. I am not so certain where I started but I am of my first teacher. Ella GLICK. She married a Mr. McSWEENEY. I remember learning to write under her. I had her write the alphabet on my slate, I then got my primer. We were allowed these days to memorize our alphabet. I would run over it until I came to the letter I wanted. Other teachers were Uncle Johnston WILEY, Theodore CAMPBELL, Edwin BELL, Mark WILSON, Johnston ARBAGAST, I.N. REDINBO, Josephine STEPHENSON, Mattie PATTON - the best loved of all. At the end of her school I was selected to present a big picture we had bought her. I gained the platform in front while she was busy in the back. She turned, I burst into tears as did all the pupils and our teacher, too. She married a Mr. THOMAS and went to Chicago.  

Leaving school awhile, I will return to our home life. Nov. 23, 1876, father was married to Lida A. GEER. I was still a child but I felt that nine months were a very short time. She had been one of the housekeepers and knew just what the situation was. That she undertook a big job is without doubt. It was her own choice - yet it was her job. She soon made it evident that when our mother died she took with her the rights of her children' very existence. We soon learned to dodge and not always successfully any missile that came our way. She had a violent temper which she had never made any effort to control. Father disliked commotion and made little effort to protect us. Grandmother was our refuge and she never failed us. Sometimes this cost her dearly. Aug. 23, 1877 brother Frank (KEY) was born. As I grew older I resented the fact that just eighteen months after mother's death a new family was started. I have always been truly thankful that never from the heart have any ill feelings against the half brothers and sisters. They too had all the ups and downs I did. I have no recollections of any particular trouble with any of

them, am sure it never came to words. I love them all very much, am truly proud of them. They are all real people. Everyone is a good honorable citizen. We were all taught to nurture our family name and we are all proud of it. There was a time I felt the younger ones had it better and easier that I. So they did and I am glad. I very much wanted a better education. I am sure I had talents that if they had been trained it would have been much easier to make a living. Then perhaps I didn't use all the privileges I did have. Jan. 16, 1878 death again came into our home and took little Joe. He was almost three years old. A very attractive child.  

There seems little that I can say of my school years. Plenty of work. The old log house impossible to keep clean, crowded and none too comfortable. We spent hours pumping water by hand for the stock. It was very hard then but it fit us for the life that was to come. Youth forgets it's troubles. However, I believe we were as happy as children could be. Five more children came. Very seldom we ever shirked. Sometimes it was easy to put away unwashed pans and dishes, especially if mother would tell us we could go to the woods after so much work was completed. With our faithful old Rover we would go. We all loved the woods and all the wonders it contained. It strengthened our love for nature. With me it steadily grew. Nature and reading my favorite diversions. With the early spring we found all the flowers. Later we gathered moss to carpet our playhouse. The playhouse was a fence corner with bits of broken dishes - moss for the floor and often for furniture covering. A few years ago while visiting a schoolmate in Toledo, Ella (STOCKSTILL) ELLIOTT, she had two other schoolmates in, Anna and Rose FISHER. After a lapse of twenty years we found old school days our best topic. Rose said you WILEY's always did bring the prettiest moss to school, and made us so hungry with your stalks of celery. We raised the first in our community. "Come and rock the baby" put an end to more than one boat trip. Our boat an old milk trough guided by a couple of poles in a ditch was great fun. Schools of minnows was another source of real fun, a bent pit and a pole was our weapon. The fish were perfectly safe, not one ever got caught. We learned to combine work and play - after worming tobacco we took out time for a funeral. This meant a procession, a sermon, but no music. Our United Presbyterian raising barred hymns and we didn't learn the Psalms. Our social activities were never very exciting but most enjoyable. A taffy pull, a festival, spelling bee and a few private home dances (in this we were allowed to participate) we often were present. Music was finally put in the schools, vocal, and our teacher, Prof. Geo. B. BUCHANAN, organized an advanced class at Central School one evening a week. Rhodehamel School was Central and it is now the site of Orange Twp. Centralized School.  

During the winter of 1884 a cousin of father's, Frank WILLIAMS, visited us from Sheldon, Iowa. He thought I might be able to teach out there, I went home with him. Going out we were snowbound and was at Logansport, Indiana for fifty-eight hours. Arriving in Chicago, cousin David WILLIAMS insisted we rest a day. From his office on State Street we went to his home. The streetcars were pulled with horses. It was bitter cold. Cousin Frank WILLIAMS and a half-brother Will WILEY had homesteaded a quarter section of prairie land. They were under cultivation, had good buildings and groves planted. I failed in exams, went to a spring term of school, then spent the summer at cousin Will's helping cousin Nan with her work and children. There was still plenty of prairie chickens. The men took guns when they worked and made good use of them. A nearby river had plenty of fish. These were seined. Two of the children and myself would take a bunch of steel traps our over oats and wheat fields after they were cut. Set them at a hole where we knew squirrels were and take enough for a meal. One very tragic and funny thing happened to Tom, a boy of twelve. One day he came in all excited. He saw a wolf in the shed. His mother gave him a gun, soon a shot was followed by the most terrifying screaming. Investigation revealed he had shot his cat, one he had carried from his home in Montezuma, Ohio to Sheldon. Several years before they burned corn and twisted hay for fuel to cook with. It looked extravagant to see them bringing in bushels of corn. I soon learned they raised it for that purpose. It was cheaper than coal, made a  splendid hot fire. That fall, I attended a Teachers Institute at Pringham (Iowa). Taught that winter and went home in the spring. I made my home with Uncle Johnston (Wiley) and Aunt Anna (Wright). Went back to school that winter. At this time the Boxwell was adopted, in other words the schools were graded a high as eighth grade. Between Christmas and New Years grandfather died. Grandma was very unhappy. She and father went to Tennessee in February thinking they might find more land and better climate. They came home satisfied the old farm was best. Later she decided she and I would go. One June 4, 1888, we left Sidney. We went to Etheridge, Tenn. A Shelby County man lived there, a Mr. GALLIMORE. We stayed for several weeks at a hotel owned by M.N. FOSTER. They had a daughter just my age, Dora her name. A very beautiful and lasting friendship was formed until she was paralyzed. After a few weeks grandmother decided to go to Summertown, TN, a health resort twenty miles north of Etheridge.  

She built two small houses, one to rent and one we occupied. Very soon at Etheridge I found myself one of a very wonderful crowd of young people. It was there I met the real romance of my life, a man who was my dream of perfection. It was a beautiful experience and lasted eleven months. Then I found he possessed an uncurbed desire for drink. It was a blow, but I stood firm. We were friends until his death in 1892. My life at Summertown was a very busy and happy one. During the summer I clerked in a general store and P.O. The people who came to the springs were mostly from Nashville. They joined us in our social affairs. I met at this time two daughters of Gen. ZOLICOFFER. A large hall on the grounds furnished us a place for our community gatherings. That winter I taught in what was used for a school and five different denominations used as church, each having a turn. After Mr. and Mrs. Frank DELANEY was in our house. They stayed with grandma and spent the weekends at Etheridge. Early in the spring grandmother failed rapidly. The latter part of June I realized I must have help. Uncle Johnston had been down in the fall so father came on July 4 - a few hours before she passed away. Father returned with the body to Sidney. I remained, packed and shipped her furniture. The night I left a crowd of friends came to a junction with me. Taking a southbound train later I was terribly broken hearted so I returned to my seat and felt that it was good bye to so much. At Nashville I had a real surprise - one friend joined me here and came on to Louisville. We spent the day here. I never forgot the south and it's hospitality. I admired so much the courtesy and chivalry of the men. The women seemed to know little and care less for work but you loved them just the same.  

Back now to our religious training. Strictly United Presbyterian. Our father's side, the Wiley's and Crozier's were all of that. On my mother's side Church of England and Methodist. As our raising was all on father's hands we followed his ancestors. Three and a half miles from the church at Sidney, and roads impassible most of the time, Grandmother had her own Sunday school every Sunday afternoon. There she explained the lesson and we learned the catechism. I remember the old church so well. The pulpit was at the back and choir at the entrance. They sang only Psalms, had no music. A tuning fork gave them the pitch. On Sunday evening we all gathered at grandma's. She read the Bible. She and father sang and grandfather prayed. After we grew older all our young friends attended a little country church, Orange Chapel. When I was eighteen, sister India and I united with a big class on probation. Our pastor was the Rev. Jacob BAUMGARDNER, Methodist. By the time I was to have been accepted I was in the south. I told Rev. C.A. STOCKWELL and he insisted on me getting my certificate. It was sent and a beautiful letter with it that I still have. One morning with some others I was baptized and made a full member. Some of the class wanted immersion. I asked a friend to tell grandma I had gone with them. She innocently told all about it. When I got home she said she was glad and was so sorry to have appeared so narrow. The real truth of it was an old Dr. who lived very near held a special service in his home on Sunday afternoon. He read one of Dr. TALMADGE's sermons, his wife played an organ and they sang hymns. Hymns until this time was a sin to grandmother, but she seemed to get a different interpretation of them and requested that one she liked especially be sang by this old couple at her grave. They sang it as her body was taken from the house. While her heart softened a lot I can't imagine how she would survive the celebration of a modern Sunday.  

For several years I traveled around a great deal. I considered placing my letter in a church was a good introduction. To me church never meant any certain form of worshipping. It was often necessary to place my letter in churches of different faiths. I acquainted myself with as much as I thought necessary, enlisted my services in any capacity. I would hold I was never able to talk on being called. It frightened me. However, if I knew I got along splendidly. Religion to me is your daily life from one week's end until the next. If we accept Christ as our example I believe he meant us to be busy at something good all the time. I kept up my membership, finally uniting with Grace Methodist at Piqua, Ohio. My health was not so good and my salary was not sufficient to keep up my home and my dues. After failing to keep up I was informed I was no longer a member. I never bothered again. I attended church as long as I could walk. Enjoy a radio sermon now and feel just as religious.  

After returning from the South I made my home with Uncle Johnston (WILEY) and Aunt Anna (WRIGHT). Deciding to serve in families I went to Worthington, Ohio with a cousin who was taking charge of a big stock farm on the Olentangey River. We milked all the cows we could care for and while at this I had a leg broken. Sister India came and cared for me until I could go home. I wrote my Dr. for suggestions as to how I could pay my bill. He sent me carfare and said he needed help in his office. I made my home with them. Loved the little son David and Frank so much I helped her a lot a found I liked it a lot. I had my bill paid and was gong back to my needle when I was persuaded to make my home with the A.E. GOODRICHES. I had met them when I was hurt.

They had a beautiful home near the High Banks on Olentangey River between Columbus and Delaware. Time slipped by rapidly and very happily. I had many friends and I loved the family. To the old man and Mrs. A.E. I was Kate. To A.E. I was Risify. I was much interested in public reading at this time and did quite a bit. A.E., an Ohio Wesleyan man, had some training and he coached me. Our rehearsal room was a big empty sheep barn. She was our audience. I stayed almost three years. Was called home on a telegram that Grandma LANE was very ill. She got better and I returned to the GOODRICHES. Aunt Kate, with whom grandma lived was very frail. We knew it was only a matter of time. I felt it my duty to help. It was early spring when I went. In July I had a letter from my Southern friend who was then in Danville, Ill. That she was alone in a strange city and was expecting her first child. One of Aunt Sally's girls took my place and I went to Emma. Grandma died in September about the time a dead born baby was born. Emma was very ill and unhappy so I stayed with her, working for a dressmaker. That winter Mrs. GOODRICH sent me money to come to her. He had typhoid. I started, went by way of Sidney, found Aunt Kate (Hannah Catherine LANE) very miserable. All agreed she needed me so brother Will sent a telegram I couldn't come. I stayed with Aunt Kate until I was married. While in Danville I had carried on a very casual correspondence with Will KEY. After my return our friendship continued. Father KEY's farm adjoined Uncle John's and they exchanged work a lot. I did all the work and got plenty of compliments on the meals. It was evident that we were both quite serious. I had been away from work a long while and was very much undecided whether I could content myself to be a farmer's wife. I was very critical but honestly could not discover one quality that did not speak well for him. I flattered myself that he was much in love with me. We were very frank. Agreed perfectly on all the real fundamentals of life. He had no habits at all. At his death at thirty-four he had never been in a saloon. Our ideas of what a home should be was in perfect accord. We believed any and all questions that might arise could be settled without argument. We both wanted a family. We considered marriage from a fifty-fifty basis. We tried to be clear on all sides of the question and decided we could and would institute a real home.  On December 29, 1894, we were quietly married at my father's home with only the immediate members of both families.  

The Rev. David RHINEHART, brother of grandma KEY, officiating. We were to live at father KEY's (Norman H.). Will having previously rented the farm. It was a most unsatisfactory arrangement. I felt I must maintain my assertion that it took two to quarrel. I never so much as hinted to my husband as to how it was. Aunt Kate was close and I spent a great deal of time with her. Lily's (KEY) first clothes were practically made as I sat in a fence corner near the field my husband was working in. While the horses rested we visited. At Lily's birth a climax came and from then on we arranged to move. In the spring we moved north of Sidney. In less than a month after we left father (Norman) KEY made an assignment. For two years it was bedlam getting it settled. It meant my husband's life earnings were a complete loss. He had always worked at home. Thoroughly discouraged we sold our farm implements and moved to Anderson, Ind. where my brother Will (WILEY) worked in a factory. October 5, 1898, brother Will (WILEY) was married to Kate (Katherine H.) POSTHER of Richmond, Indiana. We lived in a double house. They started housekeeping in the other half. Born a farmer, my husband was most unhappy and was glad when his father asked him to return and take charge of a farm he had an option on. Mary (KEY) at this time was about fifteen months. He went to Pemberton, Ohio in February. Bought implements and stock and took possession of this farm in March. Our plan was if the crops justified, we would buy the farm. A very splendid house had been built and we made plans to remodel to better suit our needs. June 26, 1900 Esther was born. We were more determined than ever to have a permanent home. We were satisfied we could make it and was to make a final decision before March and then smash February 26, 1901, following a custom of getting a years supply of wood. Using a steam engine for power, all went well until they were just finishing and the boiler exploded. Nine were injured, my husband fatally. He lingered until March 16. My father came to me and nursed Will (KEY) very carefully. Later Will and Kate came. Sister India was there and neighbors. It took eight men to lift him in a sheet and he was changed from one cot to another several times a day. There was always enough night and day. There was no hospital nearer than Dayton. Good surgeons were available. Our family doctor, C.E. CABLE was with us most of the time. During his earlier life he had been associated with Dr. W. ROBERTS. He (Will) had never united with the church, was a regular attendant and never missed Sunday school. Rev. ROBERTS had been pastor at Pasco and Sidney and he (Will) wanted to see him again. After he was hurt he mentioned it again and Rev. ROBERTS made the trip out a distance of fifteen miles one terribly cold morning. They had a lovely visit and then my husband asked to be made a member of the church. Lily and Mary had been baptized in the U. B. Church at Pasco by Rev. Merrill MILLER. I took Esther on my lap, held one hand and her father the other and she was baptized. One of the sustaining things of the supporting and caring for the children was the assurance he gave me that he knew I could and would. Almost his last words were "And is this the end of six years of complete happiness?" Standing at his casket, his only sister Ollie said "One thing you have no regrets, it was always so well with you." Returning from his funeral I had only one prayer, that I be given strength and endurance to provide for them until such time as they could themselves. Oh it is well we only live one day at a time. I fear my courage would have failed me. If I could have had a glimpse of the future. This little verse was a help.

             Time is, is thine improve the portion small.

            Time was is past, thou can't not it recall.

            Time future, is not and may never be.

            Time present, is the only time for thee.  

I immediately took up my load and did my best to fill his place and mine. It was no time to give up. It was hard. I tried to think of others sorrows and forget my own. I had plenty of work to do for I went to Sidney and opened dressmaking. I could meet the public with a smile but with all the efforts I made my grief would overcome me, especially after I had the children to bed. I would give way to fits of weeping. Experience soon taught me that I must save every ounce of strength I had or I would be unable to carry on. I realized the only thing to do was to be as cheerful as I could possibly. Not that I forgot my dear one. His memory was in my heart just as dear but more peaceful. To keep my mind wrought up on any kind of subject not only undermined my health but disqualified me for meeting the demands of the public which are the same under any circumstances. I was in constant warfare with my own nature, the inclination to worry - this undermined my health more than all my hard work. Caused many doctor bills. I kept at my trade until I had a complete breakdown. A change of environment and work did wonders for me. Then followed many years of hard work, many changes, and much planning. The girls after an eighth grade education went out into the business world. As I saw them each self-supporting I began to plan my own future. I wanted to do some sort of welfare work. Something that I could still feel was helpful to my fellow being. I wanted to be useful to myself and to help others. My dream was all taken away when at Thanksgiving time 1922 the greatest blow of my life fell. A progressive disease (arthritis). It developed slowly and after the second year I could no longer get off a car. I was forced to give up. I was made a member of the Association of Crippled and Disabled. For several years this was quite remunerative and I tried so hard to make the best of it all. It didn't mean a living but it did help. The contact with the various workers was very helpful to me mentally. I never fond it any trouble to be fond of all of them. By nature I am independent. It was a terrible cross to be dependent on my children who each had their own troubles. Frantic to be well, I spent money, which did not help me and would have helped otherwise. In my busy life I had given my future too little thought, especially old age. I had refused to remarry, severed my connections with church and lodge, and was not eligible for institution care. In 1934 I had been a member of the Daughters of America for twenty-one years and was sixty-five. This made me eligible for their Home for the Aged at Tiffin, Ohio, but I was not aged. I could still use my hands and mentally was as alert as ever. I had always maintained if I was forced to an institution life it was my funeral to all that had gone before. After taking it up with my Judge they sent me the entry application. I couldn't do it. Naturally, I loved my family a lot. My two precious grand-children meant so much to me. I decided to still carry on. Maybe it wouldn't be too long. My own family had left the old home at Sidney and moved to California. I felt very much alone and dreamed that I might someday visit them. Ten years of recuperation had caused a ceaseless longing. The way finally opened. Feb. 6, 1933, I left Cleveland on a bus and on crutches. I made the trip alone and it was all so delightful, the crossing of so much country. I had always wanted to and to land in beautiful California, and the reunion with all my family but father who had passed away. All the kindness and love they bestowed on me. The memories have been most precious. I am sure thinking of them has soothed the awful painful nights I endured. I had hoped a climatic change might help. At the end of five months I knew I must come home. I was home two weeks when my knees refused to go any farther. I knew I was doomed to a chair the balance of my life. I am now entering my sixty-sixth year. A body very much broken. If however I could pay my way and not continually feel dependent I could be happy. My spirit is not broken. I have never succumbed to self-pity. I am truly thankful I can still use my hands. I can even be a little useful.  

I lost my husband the only real man of my life. At times I am very lonesome and it was probably a mistake I did not remarry. But I feared for the children. It would have given me at least companionship and a home. I knew that the sorrows that are common to all mankind such as the loss of those dear to us is not the greatest sorrow. With death there is assurance that we will meet again where Heaven is, paved with gold, but who knows anything about it. I would prefer in it green grass. The Bible says in my home are many mansions. That means something for homes. No marriage or given in marriage. I'm glad of that too. We shan't know of how it is until we get there, but I believe it will be better than we can imagine. I really don't believe it will be so different there.

I seldom am left alone but when occasion makes it necessary I am not afraid. I am over come with a loneliness that is indescribable, nor can it be understood only by experience. At such times I feel like I would gladly leave it all. Probably I would be timid if I faced it in reality. Each day I try to be as busy as I can and it makes me happy to feel that what little I can do may help. Anyway, I have tried to do my own good turn for the day.  

I have reason to be proud of the family I have reared. As I look over my life there are so many things I would change if I could. But, in the main, I feel that I have kept the faith. I have done the best I could with the light I have had. Nothing great to boast of, just my proper duties as they came along.  

                                                                                                                                                                                    Mother

I have loved you my children and had hoped you would all have happy lives. You have each had to meet success, disappointment, and sorrow. In you childhood I gave my best. Your trials are now beyond a mothers power. I would gladly lay down my life if in so doing I could be assured that it would solve the problems. Helpless, I can only sit and wait.  

I have had my life the rest of the way. I am willing to take what comes with all the grace I can muster. Try to wear a smiling face to be token of the joys I have had.  

(Dora’s daughter Mary made this entry:

Dora Jane (WILEY) KEY, eldest daughter of George and Mary Caroline (LANE) WILEY died at the age of seventy-two at the home of her second daughter Mary Caroline (KEY) FOWLE at 15801 Corsica Avenue, Cleveland, Ohio on January 7, 1942.)

WILL OF DORA JANE (WILEY) KEY

Cleveland, Ohio, November 31, 1935  

When you read this, the book of life will be closed for me. I am not greatly concerned what happens to by body. As it must be layed away I am going to make a few suggestions, not demands. Just what I feel will make it easier. First I would have as little money spent as possible. The casket need not be expensive and my dress might be my best at the time will please me. I believe it would be easier to lay me by daddy's side at Pasco. It is all paid for and is really the place for me.

BAPTISM OF LILY AND MARY KEY

Sometime in May, 1898, Lily and Mary KEY was baptized in the U. B. Church at Pasco, Ohio. Lily was held by her father and I (Dora Key) held Mary. Rev. WALDO was the pastor. The Rev. Merrill MILLER was the presiding elder and officiated in the service.

Lily was baptized as Lily Ada Key, Mary as Mary Caroline. Lily was named for her father's grandmother, Ada for my life long girl friend Ada STEVENS.

Esther was baptized as Esther Ruth on March 13, 1901. Her father was accepted as a member in the church where he had almost always attended but did not unite. The Rev. W. J. ROBERTS was the pastor. Setting in my lap one hand in mine the other in her father's, the hand that three days later was cold in death. We vowed that we would raise her right.

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