From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

We were just having lunch today when the phone rang. Grandmother always jumps to the phone because she thinks that someone is inviting her to a party, but this wasn’t an invitation to a party. This was someone who told her that Etta had died. I don’t know what happened to her, only that in the middle of the night Uncle Milton had to call an ambulance and Aunt Etta had a lot of pain and she went to the hospital and now she is dead. Grandmother cried and cried and cried. She said it should have been her, and why did that sweet young woman have to die and hadn’t she always loved her like a daughter? I said right out loud, “Why Grandmother! You said last night you hoped you would never have to see her again and now you won’t.” Then Grandmother screeched all sorts of things and Alma rushed me up the stairs to my room.