There; seeing him upset her so. The next fall, Daughter went down to Austin to -279- finish her journalism course, mostly because she thought her being there would keep Bud in the straight and narrow. Friday afternoons, they drove back home together in her Buick sedan for the weekend. Dad had bought a new Tudor style house way out, and all her spare time was taken up picking out furniture and hanging curtains and arranging the rooms. She had a great many beaux always coming around to take her out, and she had to start keeping an engagement book. Especially after the declaration of war, social life became very hectic. She was going every minute and never got any sleep. Everybody was getting commissions or leaving for officers' training camps. Daughter went in for Red Cross work and organized a canteen, but that wasn't enough, and she kept applying to be sent abroad. Bud went down to San Antonio to learn to fly, and Buster, who'd been in the militia, lied about his age and joined up as a private and was sent to Jefferson Barracks. At the canteen, she lived in a whirl and had one or two proposals of marriage a week, but she always told them that she hadn't any intention of being a war bride. Then one morning a War Department telegram came. Dad was in Austin on business, so she opened it. Bud had crashed, killed. The first thing Daughter thought was how hard it would hit Dad. The phone rang; it was a long distance call from San Antonio, sounded like Joe Washburn's voice. "Is that you, Jo..."
(Note: The text appears to have some disjointed elements and may reference names and events not fully explained within the excerpt.)