When Dart started to do his Spanish translations tonight, he couldn’t understand why he was having so much trouble concentrating until he saw that it was past 1:00 AM. Still, if he misses writing a little something to Dot every night, he feels as though he’s passed up a chance to “be with her.”

This afternoon, he, Homer and a few other guys from his train club drove to Poland, Ohio to meet meet one of the pioneers and “aristocrats” of the model train hobby. They left his home with twice the knowledge they came in with. Mr. Doeright’s layout takes up the entire attic over his three-car garage and includes both trains and interurban cars.  (Dart describes the latter as “cute as Christmas, like a bunch of dancing mice.”) They are all meticulous in their detail and precision. It must be true that their host is a millionaire because he lives in a Southern-style brick mansion, and all three of his garage bays are filled with late model cars.

At last Dart has finished reading the rare book by William Byrd. “It was a pretty good adventure story clear to the end. Quite rowdy in a few places, though. It’s a dandy book for background material of the early 1700s.”

He’s sorry to hear about the shorthand class but he has encouraging words about the upcoming choral concert that is giving her nervous fits. From his vast experience, he assures her that all the technical stuff will come together and the choir will sound beautiful. Besides, if they have accompaniment, they don’t need to worry too much about pitch, do they? Then he recalls that they’ll be singing in Italian, and he pulls back a bit from his assertions.

It is bad news about how much her tooth will cost. Perhaps she’d get a better deal in Ohio. He agrees that dollars are not as elastic as they used to be, and for a pessimist like himself, there’s reason to believe that things will get worse.

He’s decided to follow the church’s recommendation for his annual pledge. With his annual “salary” of $750 a year, his suggested offering should be $0.35 /week.

If she expects that the male wedding party will be wearing tails or tuxedos, he’d like to know soon so he can begin looking for accessories. They’re very hard to find these days.

He’s glad to hear she’s over he cold so quickly. And he wishes her a good night.

#          #          #

“Darling, this has been as nearly a perfect day as it could possible be without you here to enjoy it with me.”

Dot was profoundly moved by the guest preacher at church this morning. He was a Negro minister who is also the head professor of sociology at the University of Alabama. Dr. Reid used no notes as he spoke, but he was powerful and eloquent. The pews were full, and so many people came up afterwards to thank him and shake his hand that there were tears in his eyes.  Some of the stories he told about the treatment of Negros were so tragic that Dot could hardly prevent herself from crying. “I am sometimes ashamed to admit that I am a so-called American. How can we hold our heads high and claim to be a democratic nation when we tolerate any kind of racial prejudice? It gives me a sick and disgusted feeling in the pit of my stomach. It seems to me that before we try finding a formula whereby we can live as brothers throughout the world, we ought to put ourselves to the test here at home.”

She and El spent the afternoon assembling an exotic array of sandwiches for the big meeting tonight. They had egg salad, cream cheese and olive, peanut butter and jelly, ham spread, and asparagus tip sandwiches which they served with hot cocoa, fruit cup and cookies. “We had many compliments on the supper, and I think most of them were genuine.” (Still a shortage of meat, I see.)

After supper, they listened to a physician who talked about medical and scientific advances coming so fast that man has failed to make religious advancements to explain it all to the common man.

(To me, it is disheartening to read about about racial issues and the tension between science and religion, knowing that 70 years later, things have not progressed too far in either arena.)

She was powerfully impressed by both these talks, but left feeling helpless to accomplish anything toward either of them. “I haven’t got what it takes to be a leader in anything, and I’m too weak to do it alone.”

After the meeting she spoke with her minister, Dr. Bliss, who was surprised to learn she was engaged. He began asking lots of questions and was pleased to learn that Dart had joined the Congregational Church in Cleveland. Then he pulled out a pocket calendar to jot down the date of the wedding. When Dot said it would be mid-June, depending on when Dart’s classes were over, he suggested June 14th, which he has open on his schedule. He wrote it in pencil and will keep it open for Dot until he hears otherwise.

She sends Dart Dr. Bliss’ address with a request that he drop him a line to introduce himself.

Just before sitting down to write this letter, she’d been reading a few of his old ones. “One of them was describing the afternoon we spent at your uncle’s house by the lake. Remember how we stood and watched the surf roll up on the beach? That’s one of the most pleasant memories I have of all the things we’ve done together. I think that afternoon was the first time I realized I wasn’t dreaming – that you were real and that I loved you in every possible way. Remember when I hugged you very tightly? I was saying to myself, ‘He’s real, he’s mine, and I love him so much! Please, Dear God, don’t let anything happen to change what we have at this very moment.’ Well, God has answered that prayer, Dart. We have had a misunderstanding since then, but it only served to bring us closer together.”

She bids him good night with a promise that she loves him “powerful much.”