Family and Death
As a young man Moulton married 15-years old Emma Walter in Philadelphia on 13 January 1873. Emma later became an Indian Club swinger and toured theatres, also clog dancing and singing. The couple's engagements meant they were often apart and Emma filed for a divorce at Denver on 29 June 1893. The marriage was dissolved on 9 November 1893. (By then Emma had become acquainted with William B. Masterson, the noted lawman, gambler and sporting man, and she lived as Mrs. Bat Masterson for the rest of his life.) Moulton married cyclist Ida Peterson on 5 September 1901. and at the time of the 1910 United States Census, he was living in Palo Alto, California, with his wife Ida, a Minnesota native who was 26 years younger than Moulton, and their adopted son Edwin, who was born in approximately 1906. His occupation was listed as an athletic trainer. At the time of the 1920 United States Census, Moulton was still living in Palo Alto with his wife Ida and son Edwin. His occupation at that time was listed as a custodian. Moulton died in July 1922 at his home in Palo Alto. He was survived by his wife and son. He was reportedly in good health up to the day of his death when an "attack of indigestion caused heart dilation".
Read more about this topic: Edward Moulton
Famous quotes containing the words family and, family and/or death:
“I had rather be shut up in a very modest cottage, with my books, my family and a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post which any human power can give.”
—Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826)
“Providing for one’s family as a good husband and father is a water-tight excuse for making money hand over fist. Greed may be a sin, exploitation of other people might, on the face of it, look rather nasty, but who can blame a man for “doing the best” for his children?”
—Eva Figes (b. 1932)
“I agree that we should work and prolong the functions of life as far as we can, and hope that Death may find me planting my cabbages, but indifferent to him and still more to the unfinished state of my garden.”
—Michel de Montaigne (1533–1592)