San Francisco
April 5, 1906
Dear Diary,
My teacher calls me Evelyn P., because there are three other girls in my class by the name Evelyn, but I’m the only Evelyn Pollard. So you can just call me Polly for short. My daddy calls me Evy. When he gives me gifts he writes ‘For Evy’, which I know is short for “ever”. So please don’t call me Evy with a P, because that would sound peevish, and though I may be fretful at times, it might become a pet peeve that would annoy me no end. My best friend Amy already calls me Polly.
My daddy told me that a pollard is a tree that has been cut back as much as possible so that it will use all of its energy for new growth. My daddy is Thomas Pollard, and he owns a redwood lumber and shipping company on 22 California Street so he should know. I like being a Pollard, a part of the Pollard family tree, a Polly with a future. I am 14 years old, relatively tall and more redheaded and freckle-faced than the other Evelyn’s in my class. I live on 19th Avenue in San Francisco and am in the 9th grade. Next year I will be a sophomore, all the wiser.
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1 comment:
Hello. I've just discovered your blog and am amazed. Evelyn Pollard was my Grandfather's Aunt. Thomas Pollard was his grandfather. My grandfather, Albert Cyril was the son of Walter Pollard and Anne Monihan. We have books from his childhood with the name "Evelyn" but were never sure who she was.
For many years I've slowly pieced together the family history and today's discovery has me filled with chills. I can't tell you how lovely this newest discovery is. I'm going to read your blog from the start and cherish it. Thank you very much for posting it.
Kimberli (nee Pollard) Smith
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