Thomas G. Moses mentioned very little about his health, beyond a few vague statements that sporadically appeared throughout his typed manuscript. In 1919, at the age of 63, Moses wrote that he and Ella were very fortunate, having managed to stay in good health over the years. In 1923, Moses wrote, “The Madam and I had our 67th birthdays during July, and I am free to say neither of us feel the age, as we have had wonderful health and we look forward to several years of good health.” In 1924, Moses’ health began to fail and gradually worsened throughout the late 1920s.
Several letters written between Moses and his eldest son William “Pitt” Moses addressed his declining condition between 1931 and 1933. They are in the John R. Rothgeb papers at the Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin.
Moses’ poor health necessitated that he plan for Ella’s future. In one letter to Pitt, he explained the state of their financial affairs and included a list of significant investments over the years. He wrote, “I want you to know where we stand regarding finances.” Moses outlined the funds given toward business ventures and family emergencies, especially to help his children. At the end of this letter, he wrote, “I want you to know all this, because, should I pass away suddenly I want Mother to feel that you would look out for her interests in disposing of the property. While I hope to enjoy a few more years in painting, the sudden death of Illie [sister], Frank [brother] and Lucia [sister] has forced me to realize that I have only a few more years at the most, and when I do pass out, I want to feel that my life has not been wasted; and my work will live for many years after I am gone.”
It was his writing “and my work will live for many years after I am gone” that struck a chord in me. It was not the first time that Moses voiced this desire to leave a legacy. It was one of the primary reasons that I fought so hard to secure the Fort Scott collection for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. As a scenic artist and scholar, I was driven to carefully handle and conserve this scenery collection, especially since it was solely produced by Moses at the age of sixty-eight. I was devastated to see the destruction of his paintings in the Fort Scott collection by individuals who did not understand what they were handling or the appropriate conservation techniques. The use of hot melt glue for netting and other destructive methods was, and remains, incomprehensible to me. When I examined the butchered scenes during a concert last February, I felt absolutely helpless. It was as if I had personally let down a close friend. I could not save this particular portion of his legacy.
The Fort Scott collection was created when Moses was at the peak of his skill and just prior experiencing the initial signs of severe health concerns. Just a few years prior to Fort Scott, Moses began to notice respiratory and heart issues, forcing him to seek medical care. He would paint up until the year of his death, but he would never work at the same pace as when the Fort Scott scenery was created in 1924.
In 1932, Moses wrote a letter to Pitt on June 23. In it, he mentioned that his “awful bronchial cough” had continued for ten years. He had previously written, “my years will not admit of too much hill climbing with my forty pounds of sketching equipment.” That same year in his typed manuscript, he wrote, “I do not feel as good in health as I would like to be, but I hope that Dr. Klumph will pull me through. I sincerely hope that the New Year will lift a heavy load of my shoulders and give me one good year to make up for this past bad year.”
In a 1933 letter he admitted his failing health to Pitt, writing, “Mother and I keep going. It is still hard for me to walk any distance if there is at least a hint of dampness in the air. I have terrible spasms of the chest. Dr. Klumph is treating me and I hope to be well again.” That fall, he expanded on his inability to work due to poor health. Moses then bore a little of his soul to his son. On November 7, 1933, Moses wrote, “I jumped into the church job as soon as I arrived and I find it was too much after a trip of 2700 miles and I am now at home getting myself in shape. I see no work in sight, and the heavy expenses of keeping the house going without any help is bearing down on me. Especially with my condition and age against me. It is so hard for me to go up stairs and walk more than three blocks that I fully realize that I can’t last much longer with the added uncertainty of making a living. It is too much. I have been fortunate in making a good living for the past fifty years to accept this present state of affairs. I dislike to write you a blue letter, but it is uppermost in my mind this morning being a gloomy one. I know without asking that when I pass on, that you will do all you can to see that your mother will be taken care of in settlement of property. I will say no more.”
He would continue to take care of Ella even after his passing. They had been together since school and survived all of life’s ups and downs. How could death stop his providing for her now? I could not help but think of one of my favorite songs, “Girl of My Dreams” by Gene Austin (1928).
“And after all’s said and done, there’s only one,
Girl of my dreams, it’s you.”
Here’s a link for the song:
http://www.musictory.com/music/Gene+Austin/Girl+of+My+Dreams
To be continued…
