Jane Gingles

There are not a lot of birthdays that are remembered in detail like the last birthday on the farm when this writer was “8”. We were preparing to move from the farm to Haddam, Kansas. There is some background needed before I write about the actual birthday.

One January day in 1936 when I got out of school, Uncle Martin was waiting for me in his car and told me I got to stay all night at their house because Mom and Dad were at the Belleville Hospital with Leonard. He had been hurt cutting trees with Dad in the timber.  I was not told much about the accident at the time to not be upsetting to a 7 year old but they had cut a large tree and Leonard ran the wrong way.