The Hidden History of Aunt Doris
Finding an old travel journal took my family on a journey, too.
She was my great aunt, but I knew her as Aunt Doris. As a child, my family and I would visit in her assisted living apartment, where we’d talk about past and present events of her life while she shared snacks with us. Occasionally, we’d go on short walks with her.
But there was so much more about Aunt Doris I didn’t know, and wouldn’t know until a few years after she passed away. That’s when my dad discovered a then unknown diary she had kept at the age of 19 during her travels to Europe. It’s because of his patient perseverance transcribing her diary that we know what we do.
As I read the transcribed record, I found the story of a young woman venturing into the unknown. In her first entry dated July 4th 1925 while on board the SS Leviathan, she writes: “The whole business has at last started! How it turns out remains to be seen. It is splendid, wonderful, I am thrilled to death!”
During the next two months overseas, Aunt Doris would experience much. An entry she wrote shortly after arriving to Paris reveals her wry sense of humor as she describes the Mona Lisa at the Louvre:
“Not such a bad looking duffer after all.”
She also experienced a bit of romance in Italy:
“At night Mrs. Hunting introduced me to Morozzi. He took me to the…Bal Masque and I had the most wonderful time I have ever had. Met scads of interesting people- famous doctors, Naval Officers, and tangoed with him. I adore these Italians- they make girls feel like queens. What a dream!”
And her drive across the French countryside introduced her to the after effects of the First World War, which had ended only seven years earlier:
“Yesterday we saw towns laid waste, oh quite completely, and poor Reims! The beautiful, magnificent cathedral how it has been mutilated is a sacrilege.”
As I read the diary, I noticed comments that reminded me of how I or my relatives would have acted in similar situations. The written record of our ancestors provides a window through which we see so much more of their lives. But as we peek through that window, we can’t help but notice the hint of reflection that stares back at us, making us realize: “Oh, so that’s where I get it from.”
She wrote the following in her last entry:
“What a shame a person comes in to one’s life only to go out again- but they do leave a little trail of happiness behind- don’t they?- and isn’t that worth everything-”
Her record has become a trail that can run through the lives of her descendants whenever we pick up its pages. A trail where, for a brief moment more, we may again walk with Aunt Doris.
