Charles E. Burchfield, Journals March 28, 1962

I awoke about 6:00, and began to brood about Betha not being well, and I thought she should be in a warmer climate; then I thought; on a beautiful day like this, with all our money, why should she have to go down to the basement and wash clothes?

Then I fell asleep and had a most distressing nightmare.

In a strange town, Bertha and I rooming in a house in a commonplace neighborhood. We had just gotten a young puppy, a strange little stocky dog, a plain cool gray in color. I had just started to take him for a walk, when I noticed a baby (belonging to a family a few doors away) walking in the gutter – It was dressed in a white dress, with a white ruffled bonnet – Fearful for its safety, I took it in my arms, and carried it to its home, left it there, after delivering a rebuke to the parents for their carelessness.

In the meantime, our little dog, caught sight of a larger dog across the street, and ran over to it. I called to and coaxed it, but it paid no attention, and when the other dog ran down a dark street, our dog ran after. So I went in pursuit.

It was a most depressing place, very dark with mean looking houses, and old warehouses – I saw our dog disappear around the corner of an ancient dilapidated long rambling house and under and old lean-to.

I knocked on the door of the house – a tall gaunt young woman answered, and asked me in – I realized at once I had blundered into a den of thieves and regenerants – An evil old man and woman, and their grown children, living in filth, dirty, and with the most repulsive clothes; I progressed from one room to another, they seemed to get worse; the walls covered with old tarpaper, and yellowed newspapers.

When I asked about my dog, it was apparent that they knew all about it, and intended to keep it – The old man looked around at the others and said, “Did any of you see such a dog?”  - a chorus of “Noes” was his answer from the others who grinned wildly at me.

Somehow I had taken my glasses off and laid them on an ironing board – These too disappeared and when I asked about them, the same question and denials followed “Did any of you see any glasses?” – the evil grins seemed to say – “You see, there never were any glasses” –

Then to my embarrassment, I discovered I had taken off my trousers, as it was very hot and stuffy in the house – These too of course disappeared, and the question & denials routine was followed as before.

The young woman, who let me in, followed me from room to room – I sensed she was not as evil as the rest; so I said to her – “Why don’t you help me? You know this is wrong.” She said she would like to but would not dare.

By now I was worrying about Bertha, as I knew she would wonder why I did not return – I asked them to at least let me telephone her, as she was not well. They said they had no phone. It was apparent that my only answer was to get away if possible, and later enlist the help of the police. There seemed no objection on their part –

I dreaded the thought of leaving without my trousers, but nevertheless decided to go. The first door I opened however was that of the bathroom – Two of the daughters were bathing – I said, “Excuse me” and backed out, they only laughed boisterously. The tall young woman said “Never mind, they don’t care who sees them” –

I finally was outside again – Here I found an old taxicab that the family had stolen; I decided to use it; I found myself inside it, it was moving, and I was lying on the floor in the rear, trying to guide it from there – I was in agony, fearful I would run someone down – I somehow managed to stop at an out-door telephone booth – I was just going inside when I awoke.

I was in a sweat, and completely exhausted. It was several minutes before I could realize it was only a dream after all – But even after I came downstairs, I was still depressed – When I told Bertha about it, her cheerfulness and sympathy were a great [unintelligible word] to my troubled spirits.

A mild sunny day, the warmest yet (+60° in the P.M.)

After breakfast to studio – got to work on the sketch I outlined yesterday. It seemed to go well finished about 3:30 – Went up to the back of our lot to see if crocuses were up yet – but no sign. On the return I met Bertha, who was taking a little stroll to see what flowers were up.
I took the new picture into the house – Bertha thought it was a beauty – its vivid warm colors rather startled me.

Evening to Lenten Service – Rev. Catteras preaching. When I went to get the car out it was last twilight – a Robin was singing lustily from the back lot – the slight chill in the air, and the gray and pink mists in the west exiting.
Called up Vi & Art to see how Vi is. She did not yet go for a check-up.

Bedtime music – I tried to play side 2 of the Seven Last Words, but after about “1 inch” of playing the sound went bad and I had to quit. Turned to Haydn’s 57^th Symphony then -           

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 28, 1962