Ron emails, "Please jump in when ready, just as if you were jumping into the pool . . . the Gene Pool!" Well, it's been over 100 degrees on the NJ shore, and I'm ready to jump in any and all pools! Elise Colby is my great grandmother and the circumstances surrounding her death were always were a taboo (and thus enticing) subject in our family. After being unable to accomplish anything by phone and by mail, my husband and I flew to San Francisco last summer to see what we could uncover lo these 101 years later. Here is one of the newspaper articles we found -- THE EXAMINER __________________________________________________________________________ SAN FRANCISO, SATURDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 25, 1893 DEATH ENDED HER SORROW Mrs. George E. Colby, Wife of a University Professor, Shoots Herself Through the Heart She Mourned over the Drowning of One of Her Children Until Her Mind Gave Way After passing a Sleepless Night She Arose in the Morning, Dressed the children and While They Were at Breakfast With Their Father the Mother Took Her Own Life -The Discovery of the Servant Girl, Who Went Upstairs to Call Her Mistress Oakland, November 24.- Mrs. George E. Colby of Claremond [sic] shot herself through the heart this morning in a fit of melancholia, produced the drowning her little son some months ago. Death was instantaneous. Mrs. Colby had brooded over the death greatly, and it was feared that her health would be affected. She had suffered from insomnia, resulting from nervousness, caused this constant thought about the death of her child, but at no time did her husband or her friends think that there was any affliction of the mind or any disposition to suicide. On the contrary, there had been a slight improvement in her physical condition during the past few days, so much so that the physicians who were in constant attendance upon her felt encouraged. But last evening she had another fit of nervousness and passed an almost sleepless night, and this morning she shot herself without any warning. Whether there was anything that occurred during the long sleepless night that brought about this sudden determination to die at morning no one can tell, but it is believed that in her sorrow, with her nerves strained to the breaking point, with all the terror of a night of wakefulness, her mind gave way and she determined to end the grief that followed her through life. The coroner's jury that investigated the case found this state of facts, but though temporary insanity was undoubtedly the cause, she gave no warning sign that would have led to greater care over her. GAVE NO ITMATION OF HER PURPOSE. She arose as usual this morning, but her husband noticed nothing about her that aroused his suspicion. She talked as usual, dressed the children and seemed no more disturbed than was usually the case after a sleepless night. She did not seem to be laboring under any greater excitement than usual, and her conversation was calm and coherent. The death of her little boy was not mentioned, and had not been for a long while. It was a subject that pained Mr. Colby nearly as much as his wife, and they both avoided it by a mutual understanding that was never expressed but was understood. After the children had been dressed they were turned over to their father. He took two of the little ones up on his shoulder, and followed by the third went down to breakfast. This was at 7 o'clock, and they waited for Mrs. Colby to come downstairs, but she did not appear. Mr. Colby went out to get the morning paper which is left in a little box at the front gate, and when he returned Mrs. Colby was still upstairs. Mr. Colby sat down at the table and sent the servant girl upstairs to find out whether Mrs. Colby wanted her breakfast sent up to her room, or whether she was coming downstairs. The girl knocked at the bedroom door, but got no answer. Opening the door she walked in. THE HUSBAND'S SAD DISCOVERY. Mrs. Colby was in bed, with the coverlet drawn tight around her throat. She was apparently asleep, but the deathly pallor of her face made the girl think that her mistress had fainted. "Oh Mr. Colby, There is something the matter with the misses," she called. Mr. Colby ran hastily upstairs, thinking that his wife had fainted, and that was his first impression when he saw the pale face carefully tucked in among the coverlets. But it was only for a moment that Mr. Colby thought she had fainted. When the coverlet was turned down it was found that she had taken a revolver under the covers, placed it over the heart and fired. The bullet passed through the heart and body. She had not dressed, but had gone back into bed after her husband had gone downstairs, and the noise of the shot had not been heard, as it was muffled by the covers. The flash of the powder had burned the flesh against which the muzzle of the pistol had been placed, and the nightdress was burned, while the powder grains had been forced into the skin around the bullet wounds. AN UNENDING SORROW. That Mrs. Colby was driven to this step by the death of her child there is now question. That death was very sad in itself, but there was surrounding it a circumstance that made in infinitely more sad to the mother than to the father, and she brooded over it until it drove here to suicide. The death occurred last July at Aetna Springs, in Napa County. The little boy fell into a bathing tank and was drowned before aid could reach him. The mother always felt that his death was largely due to her lack of care. "This feeling was intensified by the fact that only the day before Mr. Colby had urged his wife to be careful of the children. The couple had four children, and one of them failing in health it was decided to take them to Aetna Springs for a while. Mr. Colby took his family up to the springs and left them there, but before he left he said to his wife: "Now, be careful, Elise, and don't let the children get out of your sight." DRIVEN ALMOST INSANE. It was merely a warning, such as a father would give, and not because any particular carelessness was feared. Then he went back to his duties as an instructor in the Chemistry Department of the University of California The next day the oldest boy went out playing around with a number of other children and strayed away from his mother. He was missed a short while after and a search was made for him, only to find his body in one of the bathing-tanks. He had played around with the other children until he had fallen into the tank and drowned while his mother and the others were looking for him. She remembered her husband's last charge before he returned to his duties, and though nothing else was ever said or gave the least intimation that he ever laid any blame at his wife's door, she still took the death of the child to herself. The constant mental strain upon Mrs. Colby began to affect her health. She became nervous and was troubled with insomnia, until she was compelled to go away for her health. WHERE MEMORIES WEREONLY OF SORROW. For some strange reason she went back to Aetna Springs in spite of the unhappy surroundings and thoughts that it would bring up. She remained there for some little time, and then came back to her home about a week or two ago. But the trip had done little good, and she suffered as much from insomnia as before. It is probable that this trip instead of diverting her mind simply called back all the unhappy circumstances surrounding the death of her child; at any rate she did not seem to have greatly improved after her return. She grew a little better after she got home, but last night spent the worst night that she had experienced since her return. She was restless all night, and at about midnight she got up out of her own bed and coming into her husband's room she sat on the edge of his bed and talked for some little while. Then she went back to her own room. The conversation was of the most casual kind. Though she did not speak of the great sorrow, it is the general belief that in her excited, overwrought frame of mind she dreamed of the lad, so in her half waking moments saw enacted over again the tragedy for which she held herself responsible. Mrs. George E. Colby was the daughter of Frederick Russ, one of the owners of Russ House in San Francisco. She was thirty years of age, and married Mr. Colby in 1885. They had four children. Mr. Colby is instructor in chemistry in the University of California and Principal of the Oakland night school. Though his father-in-law is very wealthy, Mr. Colby has worked hard until he built for himself a handsome house, near that of Mr. Russ at Claremont. The verdict of the Coroner's jury was that deceased "came to her death at the home in Claremont, Alameda county, California on the 24th day of November, 1893, from a pistol-shot wound through her heart, inflicted by herself while she was temporarily insane through grief over the loss of her child."