From "Rose's Story"
written by her daughter Pauline
"On May 28, 1945, Donald was born. Mother was 45 years old. It was a breech delivery, and she delivered him at home, in the upstairs bedroom...Donald was the pet of the family. When he was two years old, Aunt Fay brought our invalid grandmother to live with us...Grandmother was established in the big upstairs bedroom. She was a total invalid. She got our attention by pounding her stick on the floor...Little Donald had his room in the small room next to hers. One day he was put down for his afternoon nap. He slept and slept. Mother, finally went up to see why Donald was sleeping so long, or, if he was quietly up to some mischief. His bed was soaked with his vomit, and he was still sleeping. Mother guessed it immediately, what had happened, smelling the vomit, it smelled of medicine. Evidently he had grabbed the medicine bottle off of Grandmother's night stand, and eaten it all. He was rushed 18 miles to the Mary Lanning Hospital to have his stomach pumped. Too late. He died...We later learned that he had a weak heart, due to the stress of his birth, and had he been stronger, he might have lived."
written by her daughter Pauline
"On May 28, 1945, Donald was born. Mother was 45 years old. It was a breech delivery, and she delivered him at home, in the upstairs bedroom...Donald was the pet of the family. When he was two years old, Aunt Fay brought our invalid grandmother to live with us...Grandmother was established in the big upstairs bedroom. She was a total invalid. She got our attention by pounding her stick on the floor...Little Donald had his room in the small room next to hers. One day he was put down for his afternoon nap. He slept and slept. Mother, finally went up to see why Donald was sleeping so long, or, if he was quietly up to some mischief. His bed was soaked with his vomit, and he was still sleeping. Mother guessed it immediately, what had happened, smelling the vomit, it smelled of medicine. Evidently he had grabbed the medicine bottle off of Grandmother's night stand, and eaten it all. He was rushed 18 miles to the Mary Lanning Hospital to have his stomach pumped. Too late. He died...We later learned that he had a weak heart, due to the stress of his birth, and had he been stronger, he might have lived."
From "Rose's Story"
written by her daughter Pauline
"On May 28, 1945, Donald was born. Mother was 45 years old. It was a breech delivery, and she delivered him at home, in the upstairs bedroom...Donald was the pet of the family. When he was two years old, Aunt Fay brought our invalid grandmother to live with us...Grandmother was established in the big upstairs bedroom. She was a total invalid. She got our attention by pounding her stick on the floor...Little Donald had his room in the small room next to hers. One day he was put down for his afternoon nap. He slept and slept. Mother, finally went up to see why Donald was sleeping so long, or, if he was quietly up to some mischief. His bed was soaked with his vomit, and he was still sleeping. Mother guessed it immediately, what had happened, smelling the vomit, it smelled of medicine. Evidently he had grabbed the medicine bottle off of Grandmother's night stand, and eaten it all. He was rushed 18 miles to the Mary Lanning Hospital to have his stomach pumped. Too late. He died...We later learned that he had a weak heart, due to the stress of his birth, and had he been stronger, he might have lived."
written by her daughter Pauline
"On May 28, 1945, Donald was born. Mother was 45 years old. It was a breech delivery, and she delivered him at home, in the upstairs bedroom...Donald was the pet of the family. When he was two years old, Aunt Fay brought our invalid grandmother to live with us...Grandmother was established in the big upstairs bedroom. She was a total invalid. She got our attention by pounding her stick on the floor...Little Donald had his room in the small room next to hers. One day he was put down for his afternoon nap. He slept and slept. Mother, finally went up to see why Donald was sleeping so long, or, if he was quietly up to some mischief. His bed was soaked with his vomit, and he was still sleeping. Mother guessed it immediately, what had happened, smelling the vomit, it smelled of medicine. Evidently he had grabbed the medicine bottle off of Grandmother's night stand, and eaten it all. He was rushed 18 miles to the Mary Lanning Hospital to have his stomach pumped. Too late. He died...We later learned that he had a weak heart, due to the stress of his birth, and had he been stronger, he might have lived."
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