After developing the AI-assisted ABC Biography of #7 Emily Kemp (Auble) Carringer (1899-1977) of Illinois and California, I wondered what life was like for my maternal grandmother Emily Kemp Auble (1899-1977) at age 15 in 1914 in San Diego, Californhia.
I asked Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4.5 to write a story about it and here is the story about Emily Auble's life in 1914 at age 15:
Walking Home: Emily's San Diego High School Days
San Diego, California - October 1914
Emily Auble hurried down the wide stone steps of San Diego High School (“The Old Gray Castle”), her books clutched against her chest, eyes scanning the crowd of students for the familiar face of her best friend. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the campus, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of eucalyptus from the nearby trees.
"Emily! Over here!" Gladys Nolan's voice cut through the chatter of departing students.
Emily waved and made her way through the throng of teenagers, her long skirt swishing around her ankles. At fifteen, she was still adjusting to life in San Diego after the family's move from Chicago three years earlier, and her first year in high school. The California sunshine and open spaces were a far cry from the crowded Chicago streets of her childhood, but she had grown to love this new city by the sea.
"I thought you'd never get out of there," Gladys said, linking her arm through Emily's as they began the familiar six-block walk toward Emily's house on 14th Street. "Miss Henderson kept going on and on about proper penmanship. As if the world will end if we don't make perfect loops on our capital G's!"
Emily laughed, her reserved nature balanced by Gladys's more spirited personality. "Well, you did turn in that assignment written in what looked like chicken scratches," she teased gently.
"It was perfectly legible!" Gladys protested, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. "You're just spoiled because you have the neatest handwriting in our whole class. Miss Henderson practically swoons over your papers."
They walked past the familiar storefronts and homes that marked their route down 12th Street, occasionally stepping aside to let an automobile putter past. Emily never tired of watching the motorcars, still a relatively new sight that made her feel like she was living in a story about the future.
"Did you see Robert Harrison looking at you during lunch?" Gladys asked, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "He couldn't take his eyes off you."
Emily felt her cheeks warm. "Gladys, don't be silly. He was probably just looking in our direction."
"Oh, Emily," Gladys sighed dramatically. "You're so modest. Half the boys in our class would walk across hot coals for a smile from you, and you don't even notice."
"That's because I'm not interested in boys right now," Emily said firmly, though she couldn't help but smile. "I have more important things to think about—like that history examination next week and helping Mama with the household accounts."
Gladys's expression softened. She knew that Emily carried responsibilities that most fifteen-year-olds didn't face. Emily's father, Charles, was sixty-five years old—much older than most of her classmates' fathers—and while he was still working, Emily had taken on more duties at home to help her mother.
"You're far too serious for someone our age," Gladys said, though without judgment. "When was the last time you did something just for fun?"
Emily considered this as they turned onto her street. "I suppose... last Saturday when Mama and I walked down to the bay and watched the ships come in. I love seeing all the different vessels and imagining where they've been."
"That's lovely, but I meant something exciting! We should go to the moving picture show this weekend. They're showing a new serial at the California Theatre. It's about a girl detective, Lucille Love, solving mysteries!"
"I'll have to ask Mama and Papa," Emily said, though her eyes lit up at the thought. "Papa might say it's too modern for young ladies."
They had reached 767 14th Street, the Auble family's modest but well-kept home. The small front garden showed signs of Emily's attention—a few late-blooming roses and carefully tended plants that seemed to thrive under her care.
"Will you at least think about it?" Gladys pressed. "We could invite some of the other girls too. It would be such fun!"
Before Emily could answer, the front door opened and Georgianna Auble appeared on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. At forty-six, she still had the bearing of the Canadian girl who had immigrated to America years ago, with a practical manner and warm eyes.
"Good afternoon, Gladys," she called out pleasantly. "Would you like to come in for some lemonade?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Auble, but I should be getting home. Mama's expecting me to help with the mending." Gladys squeezed Emily's arm. "Think about Saturday!" she whispered urgently before waving goodbye and continuing down the street.
Emily climbed the porch steps and kissed her mother's cheek. "How was your day, Mama? Is Papa home yet?"
"Not yet, dear. He had some business to attend to downtown." Georgianna studied her daughter's face with a mother's keen eye. "You look happy. Did you have a good day at school?"
"Yes, Mama. Though I do have quite a bit of studying to do." Emily followed her mother inside, setting her books on the hall table. "Gladys wants to know if I can go to the moving pictures on Saturday."
Georgianna paused in the doorway to the kitchen. "With a proper chaperone?"
"Her older sister would come with us, and some other girls from school."
"I'll speak with your father about it. But first, could you help me with dinner preparations? I thought we'd have that chicken with the roasted vegetables you like."
As Emily tied on an apron and began helping her mother in the kitchen, she found herself thinking about how much her life had changed since leaving Chicago. She missed the big city sometimes—the energy and excitement—but San Diego had given her something else: sunshine, ocean breezes, and a slower pace that felt like breathing room.
"Mama," she said as she peeled carrots at the sink, "do you ever regret leaving Chicago?"
Georgianna looked up from the chicken she was preparing, surprised by the question. "What brings this on?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if we gave up too much by moving here. Papa's business connections were all in Chicago. Uncle Franklin is nice, but we left behind so many people we knew."
Her mother set down her knife and came to stand beside Emily. "My dear girl, sometimes in life we have to choose between what's familiar and what's good for us. Your father's health was suffering in Chicago's cold winters and harsh air. Here in San Diego, he can breathe easier, we have sunshine year-round, and you have opportunities we could never have given you back home."
"What kind of opportunities?" Emily asked, genuinely curious.
"The chance to grow up in a place where anything seems possible," Georgianna said, gesturing toward the window where the California sun painted everything golden. "This city is growing, changing every day. You're getting an education at a fine school. Who knows what you might become?"
Emily returned to her carrots, considering this. "I suppose you're right. I do like it here. And I've met Gladys, and some of the other girls are quite nice too."
"There, you see? And you've started that little garden out front that's become the prettiest on the block. You have a gift for growing things, Emily. I see you out there in the morning sometimes, tending to those plants before school, and you look so peaceful."
It was true. Emily had discovered that working with soil and plants brought her a sense of calm and satisfaction she'd never experienced before. There was something magical about nurturing a tiny seed into a blooming flower, about understanding what each plant needed to thrive.
Later that evening, after dinner had been served and cleared away, Emily sat at the small desk in her room, her schoolbooks spread before her. Through her window, she could see the last rays of sunlight fading over the rooftops, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange that she'd never seen in Chicago.
She opened her composition book and began writing an essay for English class, but found her thoughts wandering. What would her life be like in five years? Ten years? Would she continue her education? Would she marry and have a family? The future seemed both thrilling and uncertain.
A soft knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. Her father, Charles, poked his head in, his weathered face creased with a smile.
"Not disturbing you, am I?" he asked.
"No, Papa. Come in."
He entered slowly, his joints stiff from a long day's work painting on a ladder, and sat on the edge of her bed. "Your mother tells me Gladys wants you to go to the moving pictures."
Emily nodded, waiting for his verdict.
"I think it would be fine," he said, and Emily's face brightened. "But only with proper supervision, and you must be home by six o'clock."
"Oh, thank you, Papa!" Emily jumped up and hugged him.
He patted her back awkwardly but affectionately. "You're a good girl, Emily. You work hard at school, you help your mother without complaint, and you never give us a moment's worry. A Saturday afternoon with friends is well-deserved."
After her father left, Emily returned to her desk with renewed energy, finishing her essay with flourishes of enthusiasm. Tomorrow she would tell Gladys the good news, and Saturday would be an adventure—a small one, perhaps, but an adventure nonetheless.
As she prepared for bed that night, Emily looked out her window one last time at the quiet street below. The gas lamps cast pools of warm light on the sidewalk, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear the faint sound of the trolley making its evening rounds.
Life in San Diego was good, she decided. She had her parents, her friend Gladys, her studies, and her garden. She had the six-block walk to and from school each day, where she and Gladys could share secrets and dreams. She had Saturday afternoons at the moving pictures to look forward to, and Sunday mornings when the whole family would walk to church together.
At fifteen, Emily Auble couldn't know that in just two years, her father would be gone and her life would change dramatically. She couldn't know that she would leave school to support her mother, or that she would meet a young accountant and Marine named Lyle Carringer who would become her partner for nearly sixty years.
But on this October evening in 1914, she was simply a teenage girl in San Diego, California, with arithmetic homework to finish, a best friend who made her laugh, and a small garden that was teaching her about patience, care, and the rewards of nurturing beautiful things.
She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, already imagining what she would wear to the moving pictures on Saturday, and whether Gladys would approve of her choice. Tomorrow there would be school, and homework, and helping Mama with dinner. But tonight, in the quiet darkness of her room, Emily allowed herself to simply be fifteen years old, full of hopes and dreams that were as bright as the California sunshine that would greet her in the morning.
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3) The Google NotebookLM Video Overview of this story is below.
5) After I read these types of social history summaries, I wish that I could be a time traveler for one day to visit the Auble family in San Diego in 1914 and witness their daily lives. I'm glad that the general lifestyles and occupations are known from historical records and eyewitness accounts.
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