My mother-in-law has been going through her old things and came across an envelope with a 1908 postmark:
Inside were four letters written from 1890 to 1914 from a woman named Izell in Colorado to her father in Vermont.
Here is an excerpt from one of them:
So sad that her third little baby boy died.
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Reading the poignant words of that woman makes my heart ache. This is what makes me have a deep appreciation for genealogy. I have discovered so many letters of this type desperately relating someone's sadness or tragedy. The real sadness is that their lives were short and then forgotten all but for a letter. So much pain never to be remembered.
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