Diary Entry Sept 21, 1911
Today was cold and wet. Went out for a walk anyway. The leaves are starting to turn and the damp makes their color all the more intense. I so wish Jonathan was here to walk with me. I walked longer than I should and was quite chilled when I returned. I am never cold when he is with me.
Diary Entry September 22, 1911
Awoke this morning very tight in my chest. I know it is just a minor congestion from too much walking in the rain, but Mother insisted on calling Dr. Jamison. He confirmed my diagnosis, prescribed a day in bed and several doses of a nasty elixir. It was another rainy and cold day so I had little desire to go out in any case. I used the time to write a letter to my beloved Jonathan.
***
Mr. Jonathan Douglas
Hotel Central Room 238
59 East Main Street
Chicago Illinois
Dearest Jonathan:
I am forced to bed today by a trivial congestion. You know how I hate confinement. But at least I have time to write and that offers much consolation. I count the minutes till you return and we are forever joined. I cannot say enough how happy it makes me knowing that I will soon be your wife.
Yesterday I went for a walk, in spite of the inclement weather. I walked up to the cemetery and placed flowers at the entrance to the family vault where my dear sister Clarissa lies. It is such a lovely spot, especially this time of year as the leaves cover the grass with their blanket of red, yellow and orange. The branches of a great oak spread over the entrance, sheltering it. It is such a peaceful, contemplative place, I always feel refreshed when I come. I think it is because, for a while, whatever pains I feel or problems are before me, they seem to melt to triviality as I contemplate the perfect eternal peace, that Clarissa now knows and that we too will find in God's own time. I feel her presence so close as I stand there, beside her resting place. She was always so happy, in spite of the frailties that plagued her since birth. She died two years ago, on the day that will be our wedding day. I still recall how, in her final moments, she took my hand and smiled, whispering "perhaps, when next we meet, I shall finally beat you at badminton". Then a serene expression came to her face and she quietly drifted away.
Oh, Jonathan, I do so wish she could be here to share our happy day. Yet I know I will feel her presence, smiling down from heaven, so happy for my happiness. On lighter subjects, the house is in a state of such total confusion you would think the wedding was tomorrow. Mother is running this way and that, double checking on flowers, food for the reception, accommodations for guests, and on and on. I do wish you were here to lend a calming influence.
Oh Jonathan, please promise me that you will let nothing delay your return and that no matter what happens, we will be united on the appointed day.
All my eternal Love
Leona
***
Sept. 23
Bright and sunny, some tightness remains, but my mood is as gay as the bright orange and yellow leaves. Had what should be the final fitting on my gown. I can't believe that in only three weeks I will wear it down the aisle and become Mrs. Jonathan Douglas! Words cannot express the joy I feel.
September 24
Awoke this morning with horrible coughing. It cleared after a while but the good Doctor ordered me to bed and plied me with more of his awful elixir. He seemed quite grave, the old fool. None the less, I am glad that almost everything is ready for the wedding, so I can take a few days to rest and recover. In only seven days my beloved Jack returns from his travels. I count the hours till he can hold me in his arms again.
September 25
This morning was cold and damp, I awoke again with much coughing and feeling chilled. It passed by noon but I remained in bed all day, feeling weak and tired. The doctor came, and went again. He was as reassuring as usual, but I noted a touch of concern in his voice. Mother too, seemed a bit anxious after speaking with him. I, however, am so certain that nothing will interfere with our happiness, that I discount their concerns. I know it is a trivial ailment and I shall be up and about in no time. For the present I shall enjoy the chance to rest and escape from Mother's constant flurry.
Sept 26
Today started much like yesterday, but it was well past noon before felt well enough to sit up and take a little food. The tightness in my chest persists even yet. Initially I was glad of the rest, but now I feel imprisoned. The doctor came and went, again, after forcing me to take more of his awful medicine. I do so wish this ailment would pass. I feel I have so much to do. Heaven forbid that my beloved Jonathan should return from his journey and find me still confined to my bed.
Sept 27
Today I confronted the doctor about my illness, upon which his foul elixirs seem to have no effect. He tried to avoid the question and say it was nothing, but I could tell he was not telling all and I persisted. Finally his face took on a grave expression. He told me he thought I was a strong woman who could face the truth, he proceeded to tell me that I was suffering from the same ailment of the heart and lung that claimed my dear sister. Of course he is a perfect fool! How could he think such a thing!
Sept 28
Still forced to bed. The discomfort seems worse. It is all so unfair! That I, a woman of such normal vigor, should be struck down in this way. I hate the morbid weeping faces of those convinced of my immanent death! I hate the whispers outside my door! What are they hiding from me? That they are already planning my funeral?! The stupid fools! I wish they would all leave well enough alone.
Sept 29
Oh please God! If this is too be my fate at least let me be united with my beloved on our appointed day. Please give me that much time! Then I can leave this world contented in my brief but perfect happiness. I promise to set a good example by my passage as did my beloved sister if only you will give me that much time.
Sept 30
I feel very weak today. What little sense of hope I had has washed away in the slow drizzle that continues to fall outside. Somehow I know that the doctor was right, and I shall not be the rare exception who survives this disease. My gown was delivered this morning, but it brought little joy to the house, the package sits in the hall unopened. It all seems so pointless. The weeks of planning, all for nothing. I don't even know why I bother to keep this record that none will profit by.
October 1
My dearest Jonathan arrived today, and while the circumstances saddened us both, I feel so much better knowing he is here. The sun also returned to brighten my room. I no longer hope for recovery. I cannot help but feel the end is close. Yet somehow, today that seems more a blessed relief than tragic end. My only wish is that I come to my end with grace.
Father assured me that I would be laid beside Clarissa. He also assured me that, even though Jonathan was not technically a member of the family, they consider him as a son already, and that, should he choose, he could be laid beside me, in God's own time.
October 2
I had the most wondrous dream last night. I was walking in the cemetery, near the family vault, and there I met my dear sister Clarissa. She was standing by the path, dressed in the beautiful dress in which she was laid to rest. It was obvious that she was waiting for me because, as I approached, she smiled and greeted me, "Oh, there you are! Come, I have something to show you" She lead me to the vault and the heavy iron door simply dissolved before us. I followed her in to where three low stone tables stood. The first held a closed coffin, the second held an open coffin lined with beautiful white satin and lace. The third was empty.
"This is my place" she said, gesturing to the closed coffin. "Here is yours", she said, stepping to the empty, open coffin. "And this is for your beloved Jonathan, if he so chooses" "Come, Take your rest" I stepped up and into the open empty coffin, and lay down. It felt so safe, quiet, and peaceful. When I awoke, I was lying on my back, my hands folded as if I were laid for burial. I felt more peaceful and refreshed than I have for many days.
October 3
The undertaker came this morning. I looked through his book and ***********ed a casket. A rather simple design of white enameled wood, lined with satin. He took some measurements, and we discussed the details of the service. I told him that the wedding flowers would do for my funeral as well. I told him my wedding gown and veil to be used for my burial garments. I do want Jonathan to see me in my wedding gown, even if it is to be as I lie in my coffin. We discussed my funeral as calmly as I discussed my wedding a few weeks ago. Only now does that seem strange.
October 4
I feel so weak today, Jonathan has been here with me all day. It is such a comfort to know he is close. The priest came today as well. For a while we discussed the service, and what would happen to me. He spoke of the beauties of heaven, and did his best to re-assure me. Still, I know the end is near, and I am so afraid. Oh God, please... please... give me peace.
***
October 5
Here the diary resumes in another hand
I, Jonathan Douglas, resume this diary, that the events concerning the passage of my beloved Leona may be recorded for posterity. Yesterday night she took this from beneath her pillow and pressed it into my hand, saying she could write no more and the contents might offer me some comfort. After she had gone to sleep, I did read, and found great comfort in her calm acceptance of the calamity which has befallen her.
Today I witnessed the passage, or should I say the glorification, of an angel, for surely she will be among the fairest of all the fair angels in heaven. I pray that I do not blaspheme in this belief.
I was with my dear Leona when she awoke, in much distress. She was feverish and coughing, and seemed very weak, but then about midmorning a strange and beautiful calmness came over her, and she seemed distant as if she was watching something far away. Of all the people in the room, she seemed to be aware of only me. She lay this way for some time, oblivious to all, even the priest who came to say the last rites. Then about noon, she squeezed my hand and smiled,
"Look Jonathan" she said, "its Clarissa!" "She's here for our wedding!" "I knew she would come"
Then she turned to me and said "Oh my beloved Jonathan. Now everything is perfect!"
With that she closed her eyes and quietly breathed her last. I stayed long by her side, reluctant to let her go.
October 7th
The Mortician has done his duty. He took Leona from us, and returned her this morning.
Now she rests in the parlor. My God! she is beautiful, even in death. She lies there dressed forever in the gown that she should have worn to our wedding in only three days. She seems so peaceful, so happy, as she lies surrounded by flowers, the same white flowers that were meant for our happy day. Instead they will grace her grave.
Tomorrow we will take her to church, and thence to the vault where she will lie for eternity. Her father told me that, there is a place for me there too, should I desire it in time. I feel now that we will be together again soon. For what is a human lifetime in the face of eternity! This thought gives me great peace.
October 11
I pray that this diary may remain hidden for many years that what I record now may not bring embarrassment upon my family or the families of any mentioned here. For I have kept my promise to my beloved Leona.
At dusk yesterday, I went to the crypt where she lies at peace. In my company was the cemetery grounds keeper, who for a few discrete dollars, opened the vault that I might enter. Also in my company was a priest, fallen from grace with the church for his passion for various sins of the flesh, the extent of which only I know. I swore not to reveal my knowledge providing that he assisted me and never revealed these proceedings. Upon entering the vault I opened the casket holding the earthly remains of my bride, and once again stood silent, amazed at her beauty, as she lay so peaceful and still, in all her wedding finery. Next I opened the casket of her sister which lay beside her, for if my beloved Leona had her wish, Clarissa would have stood beside us at the altar as her maid of honor. Clarissa too, lay as if peacefully asleep, still lovely in her repose, despite the passage of time since she was laid here.
I stood beside my beloved as the priest read the marriage vows, holding her cold, lifeless hand. I pledged to take her as my wife, and I answered for her as I knew she would pledge to take me for her husband. With the words "with this ring I do wed" I placed the golden band on her pale cold finger. And when the priest pronounced us man and wife, I raised the veil from her face and gently kissed her cold lifeless lips. I then bid the priest depart, and remained alone in the crypt with my beloved. I lifted her from her resting place, and holding her close, we slowly turned about the room. Her lovely white dress swept the cold stones as we danced our wedding waltz. My own desire steadily grew as I swayed with her body held tight to mine.
When at last the music in my own head came to a close, I laid her again in her coffin, which was her bridal bed. Not an unfitting bed I thought, admiring the elegant white satin and lace on which she lay. Lifting the veil from her face, I gently kissed her and caressed her face. I stroked her breasts, so firm and cool beneath her satin gown. All the while the passion for her grew in me until I could stand it no longer. Lifting the skirt of her dress, to reveal her femininity, I opened my pants to expose my maleness. I climbed into the casket and lay atop my beloved, becoming one with her as we would have on our wedding night. Holding her in my passionate embrace, kissing and caressing her cold, still face, I gave her the final gift of our love, and left her with something of myself to remain with her for the ages. I lay thus with her long after my physical need was satisfied, my head resting on her satin covered breast, gently stroking her silky hair. Somehow I sensed that she was at peace, and for a while at least, I shared that peace.
The morning sun was penetrating the small stained glass window of the vault door when I reluctantly rose and separated myself from my beloved. I arranged her dress neatly about her legs and folded her hands once again at her waist. From the bouquets around the bier I ***********ed a single perfect white rose and placed it in her hands. I gave her cold lips a final kiss and gently lowered the silky veil over her face. She looked so peaceful, so serene, so beautiful. It was with great difficulty that I closed the casket and left her to her divine final rest. The morning sun shown brightly as I left the vault. I was filled with a great sense of joy that made the day seem all the brighter, for it seemed all around me I sensed the presence of my beloved Leona. I saw her smile in the dappled sunlight. I heard her laughter in the rustling leaves. I felt her caress in the gentle breeze. Together we walked from the place and back to my everyday world. Yet I know my life, what ever remains of it, will never be the same, for always I will be remembering her with joy, and longing for our final perfect union
Here ends the diary of Leona Zimmerman Douglas...