Dart writes a chatty letter today, like the ones he used to write when he was in the Navy. He spent a good part of the day tromping all over downtown Cleveland looking for  either colored or patterned dress shirts. He runs through a long list of stores he tried, to no avail. No shirts to be found at any of them. It seems as if the war shortages have become the post-war shortages. It’s been several months since the was was over and the boys started returning, but inventory of civilian clothes hasn’t begun to meet the demand. I’m a little envious of the number and variety of shops Dart had to choose from. I’d venture a guess that there are only a handful of cities now that can boast downtown retail of that magnitude.

His other errands included dropping his discharge papers off at the county courthouse (they’ll be processed in three weeks) and picking up some developed film at the photo store. They were mostly pictures he and Dot took at Kent, and he deems them “fair.” He had several copies made for Dot and for some of the guys from the John R Craig.

After lunch, he dropped his father off at the courthouse. Dart Sr. is a juror on a doozy of a trial that’s likely to run about three weeks long.

In the afternoon, Dart and his mother spent some time trying to sort, organize and pitch much of the accumulated stuff that he and Burke have collected. He marvels how he was able to amass such a pile of worthless and irrelevant junk in just 19 years before being shipped out. Most of it’s gone now, including a letter from a certain young lady from Shaw high school telling him to go to hell.

This evening he went to the Dixon home to get news of Fred from his folks. However, the Dixons were leaving just as he was getting there. At that moment a woman with a familiar face and an unflattering hair-do walked past and recognized Dart. She was Charlotte Monck, a classmate of Dart’s who is now living with the Mr. and Mrs. Brown just down the street. (The Browns are the parents of John Angel’s wife, Sally.) Charlotte invited Dart over to the Brown’s house where he passed several hours updating the Browns on his news and catching up on all the news of Shaw classmates. “Mr Brown had to hear my sea stories and I had to hear the latest dope on the class. Mr. Brown is one who has the straight dope on everything – politics, high and low finance, Army and Navy rules and officers, and the like. Mrs. Brown has the tales to tell of her Boy, the neighbors’ Boys, and the neighbors’ friends’ Boys. Charlotte had little to say, except for some engagements, homecomings and a wedding or two. It was an evening of hot air, and I never did learn anything about Fred, the guy I started out after in the beginning.”

He came home to find a note tacked to his door telling him not to phone Dot unless he needed her. He’ll take that as a hint and just write that he loves her forever and always. Although it’s only Tuesday, it feels like she’s been gone long enough for it to be Friday. He misses her and can’t wait for the weekend when her school break begins.

This is the last letter either party writes until March 26, since they’ll be spending their time together again. I’ll try to fill in some of the empty days with a few samples of Dart’s poems he wrote while at sea, or before he left for the war.