Tall and lean in her auburn hair and sweeping dresses, the daughter of William H. Spafford had a little everything in her makeup. She was one of over half a dozen children and had fallen around the middle, born 1885 in Laramie as the town was getting to a boosting phase. Her father, a disabled Vet of the Civil War had strung telegraph wires up Pike’s Peak and managed Western Union offices when outside work became impossible. Things went downhill while they lived in Grand Island of Nebraska toward 1900. It wasn’t enough for the sisters to be managing a fruit stand downtown ouside the rented familyh home, so the family was reduced to living in the basement of a Lodge building with the kids doing the janitorial work.
It had made sense for a while for Edith to go live with her married brother, for Frank had stayed in Laramie when the family had traveled East, and he was finding his way. Frank had undertaken his first apprenticeship with a pharmacist at the age of 13, but wound up in the back offices of a newspaper managing print operations, and rising to become a partner and a peson of note even in state Republican politics. Frank had married the daughter of the mayor of Grand Island, and a rather weird family that one was.