16 January 1912
Went to the patent office today and applied for a patent for the eyeglass fastener. It will be costly but I must patent each aspect of my prototype individually to safeguard my invention. This can’t get into the wrong hands or who knows what could happen. I’m copying a drawing of the fastener into this journal for posterity’s sake.
A few more brush strokes and my little painting of a rose for my Little Petunia will be done. Good thing Belle offered to make the cake and hold the party at the Hecock’s… that nosy nephew of mine won’t be able to sneak down to the inventorium and ruin HIS surprise! Aah, yes… cake!
16 January 1912
Can’t spy on Uncle Ed today, as we will all be celebrating Myrle’s one year birthday. When I first laid eyes on her, she was all wrinkled and ruddy, so much so that I feared that child would grow up ugly. It’s good to see she is starting to take after me! I’ll never forget that night… the first (and last!) time I smoked a pipe. Ended up with a bad case of dispepsia! It’s hard to believe that doctors think something that nasty is healthy for a person, but then I don’t like the taste of spinach either!
16 January 1912
O the sweet memories… My little Myrle was born just one year ago today. I shall never forget it. The midwife arrived just around midnight. We were well rehearsed as to the protocol: boiling water in the kettle, sheets torn into smaller “sponges”, and plenty of cigars and pipe tobacco in the parlor for the men. The labor was long and much more painful than past deliveries. She was a large baby, surprisingly. Frank and Gayle just adore their baby sister. Dear Belle must be green with envy, my having three children, and one a daughter! and she with only one son. Poor dear will be lost when he moves on to find his way in this world.
January 15, 1912
Working for Lake Shore Rail is really paying off! I just put in for free passes to ol’ Chicago. Ig and I are going to tear up that town. Ah! to be on my own without Mother looking over my shoulder (hope she never reads this!)
As for Uncle Ed’s new invention… he and Father were whispering in the parlor around sun up. It’s odd that he was even here on a Monday morning! Uncle Ed can be a real buttinski at times, but he’s a good egg. So why do I get a sinking feeling in my gut that this is somehow not so good for me?
13 January 1912
Great progress was made towards a working prototype this evening in spite of the poorly lit Inventorium, and night seems the only time I can work unimpeded by a colicky baby, frenetic boys, and a shrewish wife (forgive me, dear Hattie.) But, O, the look on Hattie’s face as the peas were flung at Frank across the table, and the mashers that missed me and hit her… it was well worth the late start tonight… an extra thirty minutes for a fair tidy-up. My prototype should be done in plenty of time for Burrell’s 18th. Harry will be pleased. Not so sure about Belle.
You won’t believe what good fortune fell upon me! I came across the personal diaries of the Hecock and Zeller families! So while chapter 3 progresses through the drawing stage, let’s take a gander at the private thoughts of Burrell, Ed, Hattie, Belle, Mother Hannah, and Iggy during the days leading up to February 4, 1912. Don’t look for any writings of Harry Hecock… he was a lawyer and knew better than to put secrets and private opinions in writing!