It was during the park stroll with the second young man that a messenger arrived on a lathered horse. He bowed and handed a message to my mother. He was gasping as he waited for my mother to read it and respond. As she read, her face paled and her breathing quickened in distress. When she had finished, she said that father had fainted at work and hit his head. His supervisors wanted us to send a coach to pick him up.

My mother summarily dismissed the boy and his mother and we ran back to our coach. The coachman drove as fast as he safely could to the plant. It was a very scary and bumpy ride. When we got to the plant, mother jumped from the coach and ran in. She returned quickly with two men helping father. He was pale and disoriented. I was told to give up my seat next to mother and sit up with the coachman. This I enjoyed immensely, for the coachman saw how closely I was watching him, and he let my take the reins for a mile. If mother saw this, she would have had apoplexy. I also didn't want to see my father is such a weakened state.

Mother became a tyrant in times of emergency. This was no different. She was giving orders like a general until my dad was comfortable in his bed. She ordered me to find his favorite books and put them on his bedside table. She thought I would know this because I was a reader, and in my father's loving times we discussed what we were reading. Aggie was sent to get a glass of water. She made us all vow not to let him see any documents from work no matter how much he begged. Mother thought this would cause stress that the doctor stated had to be avoided.

I thought that not telling him about his work situation would cause more worry and stress. This changed when I found out people at the plant were dying from the same symptoms from which dad was suffering.

The glass of water quickly changed to a pitcher with the glass for he couldn't seem to quench his thirst. This was probably because he still had diarrhea. The children took turns emptying his bed pan. Not a fun task, for we had to make sure we didn't spill it on the way to the bathroom. After a few smelly trips, we decided to empty it out the window because it was on the side of the house over some bushes. Those could be replaced next Spring

After a day and a half of this, it seemed his bowels were returning to normal as was his water consumption. He was able to keep his food down, so he was gaining strength. My mom decreed that my dad could work in his office for three hours a day.

His managing partner had started sending messages saying plant employees sharing his symptoms were dying within a few days of becoming ill. He was one of the lucky ones that got better. It seemed a lot of other businesses were losing workers too. What was odd was that no one at the brewing company was getting sick.

Doctors couldn't figure out what was causing the sickness of why some got better while others died. Until one doctor, Dr. Snow, said the culprit was the well water the workers were drinking. He said the brewing company employees weren't getting ill because they got an allotment of beer at work so were not drinking the water.

After the cholera outbreak passed with the building of the miraculous new sewer system cleaning the wells, my father returned to work. They had to hire what seemed like an army of new workers to replace the employees they had lost. The original employees were pale faced and teary eyed but kept on for the sake of their co-workers and friends' memories.

My father seemed as healthy as ever for about six months. Then he started being short of breath and coughing often. Nothing else seemed wrong, so the doctors thought it was after effects of the cholera. But after trying a few different medications with no results, this hypothesis was dropped. It seemed his cough got better at home and worse at work, though it never went away. The doctors decided that maybe moving away from the city might help.