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Elsie’s Legacy
By Lois E. Wilson
I don’t know exactly when Mr. Buffington came into my life. I was a
small child when I learned that he had loaned my parents money to buy
our home after they lost their first one to the bank during the Great
Depression.
He was tall and had one arm—the result of a work injury years before.
He had left Ohio to live in Chicago with his daughter Elsie and her
husband, Frederick Boe. At least once a year he came to stay with us
and visit nearby relatives. While at our house, we played cards,
talked, and shared stories. Our age difference of seventy years never
mattered. He was my special friend.
The summer I was seven, my mother was recovering from major surgery.
Mr. Buffington took me on the train to Chicago to stay with his family.
Elsie and I had the bond of being only children. She gave me her
collection of picture post cards from her courting days. Most were
dated 1906 and were signed by several suitors.
Mr. Buffington and the Boes, who had no children, lived in the city in
a condominium near the Midway which had become a part of the University
of Chicago after the World’s Columbian Exposition. We spent hours in
that park. They had no car so we walked, went by bus or train to
museums, movies, the lakeshore, and to visit Illinois relatives. They
treated me like a princess.
In her 80’s, Elsie found herself alone. She came to Ohio and lived at
first in an apartment provided by my parents and then later with them
in their home until she required the care given in a nursing home. When
Elsie died, she left me a gold locket with photographs of her at a
young age inside. The front was engraved with elaborate script initials
“E.B.”. I didn’t know if Elsie had received it when she was Elsie
Buffington or after marriage, Elsie Boe. I treasured the necklace and
put it safely away.
Some years later, my oldest granddaughter Erika and her husband, both
in their thirties, lost from health problems after 56 days of life
their firstborn child. Their beautiful baby girl was never strong
enough to go home with them from the hospital. Their grief wore heavy
on their hearts.
Not long after, one day I was cleaning, saw the small box and opened
it. There was the necklace with its graceful “E.B.”. I looked at the
locket and the pictures of Elsie inside. Then it struck me. I had not
thought of it before—Erika’s married surname began with the letter “B”.
Hmm, “E.B.”—my granddaughter! Elsie’s legacy to us both! I sent the
necklace off to Erika with its history. It was a story of the
interconnected lives of people who loved and cared about each other.
The necklace is with its new owner—where I believe it was
meant to be.
© 2016 Lois E. Wilson
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