MARCH 3, 1937
NEW YORK, Tuesday—It was quite a shock to my husband and to me when we received a wire on Sunday telling us of the death of Dr. Wilbur M. Dailey. He had been our dentist for twenty years or more and looked after all of the children and my mother-in-law so that he was a real family friend. As the children have grown up and been away at school and college, or have moved to different parts of the country to live, they have naturally lost touch with him, but he never forgot to ask about them whenever my mother-in-law or I went to see him. So this morning she and I went to the funeral in his house on 69th Street. Many people were there but his wife and son and brother made a sad little group, and when his son asked to speak to my mother-in-law and me, it was all we could do to tell him how deeply we sympathized in their loss. Whatever a man achieves in life of success in his profession and from the material point of view, his character and what he has meant to those nearest to him is after all the real thing that counts. It was easy to see that there had been real love and companionship in this family and one could but hope that the future life held some consolation for their present sorrow.
Last night I left gaiety and laughter in Washington—such are the usual contrasts in life! The Women's National Press Club held their annual dinner and gave their annual show for the entertainment of their many guests. They draw on much real talent and it was hard to believe in one scene that the three people who did the revolution in rhythm were not professional dancers. The skits are always filled with good lines and humorous quips on the weaknesses "of those interesting people" whom the poor press girls are obliged to follow.
There was one good line they might have added had they only known it, but I was the only one privileged to hear it! On Christmas Eve when all but one girl had dropped out of the day's activities as we were coming from the last of our official engagements, I heard her murmur "What a way to spend Christmas Eve," and she would certainly have suggested, if she had been an older member, that Christmas Eve be one of the days when my sit down strike should become most rigid! They suggested as a new story for the coming year that I do nothing, and so after my present engagements are over, I am going to take them at their word and provide them with much copy on a quiet summer off the record as usual.