Thus we children were all exposed to diphtheria; and as my nerves were in
such a bad condition, and as I was greatly frightened because of the news
from the camp and the presence of the sick children, I was the first victim
of the disease. The next to take it was my sister Katherine. Just before
she took her bed, she got her feet wet, and therefore had the disease in a
very malignant form. The doctor who was caring for her, assured us that she
was better, but he told some of the neighbors that she could not live until
morning. We did not know that she was seriously ill until Father, who was
sitting up with her that night, said, "Katy, it's time to take your
medicine." There was no answer; her gentle spirit had taken its flight.

The thought that my sister was dead was almost more than I could endure.
The thought that she was gone into eternity, that I would never meet her
again in this world, almost broke my heart. I wept for hours at a time. I
would sit beside my mother weeping and wondering why my sister had been
taken. It seemed that I could never forgive the doctor for deceiving us;
and I think I never did fully forgive him, until the time when God pardoned
my sins and gave me a forgiving spirit. Dear little sister Katherine! She
was twelve years and six months old when she died. She was an unusual
child--patient and kind--was never known to disobey her parents, and was
loved by all.

The other members of the family took the diphtheria one by one, until all
but my father and one brother had this awful disease. Some of us were sick
for nearly two months and during this time none of the neighbors, except
Daniel Douglas, our nearest neighbor on the west, came to lend any
assistance. He came over and sat up a part of every other night when the
sick ones were at their worst, and needed the most care. Even the woman who
brought the disease to us refused to help, until she was compelled to do so