The Last Evening I Spent With My Beloved Husband,  Thomas G. Lambert

Written by Pearl Lambert

Papa came home from work full of joy.  We were all very happy at the table while we were eating.  Calvin, our youngest, tried to push his chair between Daddy and I.  Papa said, “No Calvin, nothing can ever come between Mama and I.”  Little did he realize that would be our last meal together.

After we arose from the table, I went into the bedroom to lie down a moment.  I did not feel well.  Papa asked me to go to the show with him.  I told him I did not feel like going.  He sat on the bed beside me and we had the sweetest visit together, we laughed and talked of many things.

 Melvin had been sick Friday and I said, “Papa I sure hated to let Melvin come to the store today, as he was not well enough, but he thought you needed him so I should not keep him home.”

 Papa laughed and said, “O you do not have to worry about him when he is with me.  I got him some ice cream soda and sent him to a show, he had a fine time.”  I kissed him and said, “I know he is in good hands when he is with you.”

 Then he said, “Do you love your old man as much as any of the other fellows?”  Then he said, “Dear, would you care if I went to a show if you do not feel able to go with me?”  I said, “Not at all, you need some kind of recreation, it will do you good.  Go and enjoy yourself.”

 It was the night President Roosevelt arrived in Salt Lake.  Papa had planned to take the three boys to hear him speak, but had to deliver pictures to Ft. Douglas, and got home too late to go there.  He wanted to go up and see the crowds, he always loved to mingle with people.  He knew so many people everywhere.  After we talked a little longer he said, “Now I don’t know if I want to go and leave you.  We always have lovely times when we are together.”

These were the last words he spoke to me, we thought Allen came in and he wanted to ride up town with him.  He kissed me and rushed out, it was not Allen, so he rushed out to catch the bus.

The children did not see Daddy go.  Elva stepped in the front room and seeing crowds outside went out.  Some one said, “Did your Father have tan shoes on?”  She said, “Yes.”  They said, “You had better ride up to the Emergency and see if that was your Father that was struck.”  She answered, “No, my Father is in the house with Mother right now.”  But they gently pushed her and Melvin into a car and took them up there.  They found their beloved Father on a stretcher on the floor—dead.

 They had a Doctor and Nurse examine him to make sure he was gone, then went home for me.

 In the meantime Marva, my seven year old girl came and said, “Mama, outside people keep saying that a Lambert got hit with an auto.”  I said, “O Darling, it could not be one of our family, for Allen and Jim left long ago and Papa has gone to a show.”  She said, “Well, Mama just come out and see the crowds of people in the street.”

 I went frantically up the street asking everyone who had been hurt, no one seemed to know.  Eleanore Smith, the girl next door, a sister who had seen the accident, came up to me and said, “You had better go up and see.”  I said, “Why Eleanore do you think it was Mr. Lambert?”

 She said, “Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know.”  But she drug me to the car of our neighbor, who was waiting for me.  They drove me up to the Emergency Hospital the lady went in with me.

 I saw a big tall fellow in there and I said, “Has a Mr. Lambert been brought in here?”

 He said, “Yes.”  I said, “Was he hurt seriously?”  He said, “Yes madam, he is dead,”

 I said, “I want to see him.”  He refused and I insisted, “I want to see Mr. Lambert right away.”  He asked me to wait, it was only a few moments but it seemed like ages, then a nurse came in.  I said, “I want to see Mr. Lambert.”  She said so sweetly, “You shall see him right away.”

 By this time Elva and Melvin walked in; they had gone home for me and found I had come up here then they returned to be with me.

 We all went into a room across the hall and when they opened the door, I saw my beautiful husband lying there all still and white.

 He was not all cut to pieces or mangles as I had feared—not a mar or a scratch on his whole body, but when I put my hand under the back of his hear there I found the wound.

 He had a basal fracture cutting the back of his hear, open two or three inches and cracking his skull clear across the head inwardly.  He died instantly, he never tasted death, or knew a pain; he was thrown above the auto, yet never received a scratch, only the death wound.

 The undertaker said he never heard of such a case in all his experience.

 We rushed Dr. Skolfield there to examine him, but he was gone and already discoloring.  I wanted to stay until the undertaker came but they would not let me stay.

 My darling children led me gently away leaving our darling Papa, who would never come back to use.

 The home was crowded with friends for many days, hundreds of kindred friends came to offer their sympathy and services.  Everyone did all they could for us.  I can never tell all the wonderful things they did.

 Some businessmen and doctors sent their bills back cancelled, some brought money, some fruit, others cake, pies and vegetables.  Mrs. Smith brought us a full course dinner and later dear Hazel Cutler Beck invited us all over to a wonderful chicken dinner and gave me ten dollars.

 Friends came from all directions, bringing flowers and gifts.  We were never alone a minute.  God bless the loving friends who gave such needed sympathy; may I pass it on to others.

 My dear beloved children were all so devoted and tender to me, making life still worthwhile.

 God Bless us to “Carry On”.  And when we rise to Reign and Shine.

                                                Then I’ll be his and he’ll be mine.