After seven months of just existing (on my part) at Jefferson Barracks, Jack received an order for Fort Myer, the end, the aim, the dream of all army people.

Fort Myer is about three miles from Washington, D.C.
We lost no time in getting there and were soon settled in our pleasant quarters.

There was some building to be done, but the duty was comparatively light, and we entered with considerable zest into the social life of the Capital.

We expected to remain there for two years, at the end of which time Captain Summerhayes would be retired and Washington would be our permanent home.
But alas! our anticipation was never to be realized, for, as we all know, in May of 1898, the Spanish War broke out, and my husband was ordered to New York City to take charge of the Army Transport Service, under Colonel Kimball.
No delay was permitted to him, so I was left behind, to pack up the household goods and to dispose of our horses and carriages as best I could.
The battle of Manila Bay had changed the current of our lives, and we were once more adrift.
The young Cavalry officers came in to say good-bye to Captain Jack: every one was busy packing up his belongings for an indefinite period and preparing for the field.

We all felt the undercurrent of sadness and uncertainty, but "a good health" and "happy return" was drunk all around, and Jack departed at midnight for his new station and new duties.
The next morning at daybreak we were awakened by the tramp, tramp of the Cavalry, marching out of the post, en route for Cuba.
We peered out of the windows and watched the troops we loved so well, until every man and horse had vanished from our sight.
Fort Myer was deserted and our hearts were sad.
***** My sister Harriet, who was visiting us at that time, returned from her morning walk, and as she stepped upon the porch, she said: "Well! of all lonesome places I ever saw, this is the worst yet.