Monthly Archives: January 2017

Monday, January 27, 1947

Dot Darling,

The whole world is agin me. If you don’t get a letter from me tomorrow night, you’ll know I had to wait until the city (and its inhabitants) went to sleep so I could do some of my studying.

I opened Pop’s card by mistake today, If you’ll just address his mail to Mr. D. G. Peterson, this similarity of names won’t be so likely to get us fouled up. A quick glance at mail doesn’t suffice to tell the difference between Dart G. Peterson, Jr. and likewise, Sr.  It was surely a cute card, Honey.

Gee, what an awful looking mess this letter is. I fell asleep while writing it. I love you very much Darling.  I am your own, forever.

Tuesday, January 28, 1947

Dart is heading into finals week feeling ill-prepared. His best intentions to study all day Sunday were derailed by a series of unexpected visitors.

First came his cousin Jessie, her husband Bill and their four young children. Dart has a sweet spot in his heart for all of these kids – from the baby Billy, to shy Sue, the pixie Lynn, and the young lady Jean.

Later, Edie and Mrs. Barlow stopped by and stayed for a long visit. Although it had its disadvantages, it must have been nice to live in an era when folks would stop by, unannounced, for a friendly chat. I remember that happening a few times when I was a very young child and it always added a sense of surprise and adventure to an otherwise predictable day.

This morning, things at the Peterson apartment got complicated. It seems that Dart had mentioned to Dr. Singer yesterday that his father had mentioned that he might be willing to be admitted to Crile VA hospital. Well, Dr. Singer came by the house early this morning to check on Dart, Sr. and announced that he had made arrangements for the patient to go to Crile. “Boy, what a scene! It gave Dr. Singer a good chance to see Pop’s mental attitude, though – far better than we could have described it to him. The doc gave us until noon to decide.”

About 11:30, Pop decided that he would go to the hospital, but his attitude was still very hostile. Dart and his mother felt that they had to take a chance of getting him the help he needs, and today he seemed strong enough to take the blow, so they packed him up and set off across town.

“By the time we left him in his ward at the hospital, he was more cheerful and better disposed toward life than he’s been for quite a while. … Now, in addition to treatment for his present condition, he’ll probably get treatment for what else ails him, plus a chance to change the mental outlook which helped to bring on all this trouble.”  Dart’s big hope now is that his father will be well enough to leave the hospital for the wedding in June! My, I should certainly hope he won’t be in there anywhere nearly that long!

He enjoyed Dot’s letter describing all her new clothes. He tells her that he’s always liked her taste in clothing and these recent acquisitions serve to further his admiration.

He’s looking forward to hearing her plans for the large double wedding of theirs. He’d love to answer several of her letters tonight, but Spanish and journalism have a bigger command of his time.  That can’t stop him from thinking, however, that one week ago tonight he was just getting home from putting her on the train headed east. He misses her more than he can bear.

On the back page of this letter, Dart draws a large cartoon. It shows a tiny man cowering in the shadows of four huge, hovering vultures. The vultures are named “Spanish,” “Journalism,” “Industry,” and “English.”  Squeezed in behind them is a big smiling angel named “Prose Workshop.” Above the whole scene is a dark rain cloud labeled “Sleep.” The poor man is haunted by his studies.

Wednesday, January 29, 1947

“Oh, I love you so very much, Dot! I can’t keep from writing to you tonight, even though I shouldn’t. I long for our kisses, our embraces, our plans for our rooms and our plans for our wedding. I miss helping you with supper. I guess I just plain miss you with all the miss that’s in me.”

He recalls how close they were all day on the Sunday she was here. They were together at church, for their “planning session,” the homework session, the trip downtown, their long and tender good night. The memories of that day make him miss her even more.

He confesses to her that he did something tonight he’d never done before; he found out about a test he hasn’t taken yet. It seems a fellow in his colonial lit class had a schedule conflict and was required to take the exam today. Dart called him to pump the guy about what was on the test. “I felt almost forced into collusion by the very nature of the grading and evaluations Prof. Carter has done in the past, and by his arbitrary methods. My plunge bothers me a bit, but not much. Maybe what bothers me most is that I’m not bothered more by my efforts.”

They called Crile hospital tonight and spoke with Pop’s friendly nurse. She said Pop is eating better and feeling good. She’d just given him a back rub before he retired to bed.

With tests tomorrow, this is all he has time to write tonight. He loves her.

Thursday, January 30, 1947

Feeling like a giant Mickey Mouse balloon with the air leaked out, Dart breathes a sigh for the end of his exams. He doesn’t feel at all confident about them, but at least they are over.

His mother visited Pop at the hospital today. He’s feeling more comfortable and is tiring of all the tests.

It’s been two or three days since Dart’s heard from Dot and he’s getting worried that she have a bad reaction to his letter about the wedding. (Throughout his long answer on that topic, he kept apologizing for saying things that might anger her, but I could never really see anything he wrote that might have brought a negative reaction from his very reasonable fiance. I’m not sure what he’s stewing about, except that stewing seems to come so naturally to him.)

Perhaps her work hours are keeping her from writing?

He misses her and her letters.

Friday, January 31, 1947

My Darling,

I can’t let the month end without telling you how much I love you. Your swell twelve-page letter came today. I’ll answer it more fully at some later time, or at least I’ll try. See – if I’d opened my mouth the first time I’d thought about some of those things, I’d not have had a thing to worry or wonder about.

Mom says that Pop will refuse to wear tails. I wonder.

How, Darling, knowing my situation as to knowledge of marital relations, do you think I get my knowledge? Reading is the only way. I’m always willing to try to learn something more about making our married life more satisfying to both of us, so if you find another copy of that magazine, clip the article and send it to me. I’d appreciate it very much.

I have a great deal of banking to do tomorrow as my check came in and various bills are due. It’s late because we took a long time getting home from the Skyline meeting.  So if you don’t mind, I’ll drop off to sleep deliberately before I do it accidentally. Good night, Dot. May I rub your back?

No letters until February 3. See you then!