This letter from Dart begins with a thanks for the stationery and writing kit Dot sent him. It sounds like the perfect gift for someone who writes as many letters as this guy.

He appreciates knowing he ranks so high on her list of men. He says he feels like writing to Ronnie and Van to rub in his victory over them for the heart of Dot Chamberlain. Needless to say, he believes the best man has won this competition.

Referring to a restaurant Dot mentioned in her letter about her trip to Cleveland, he wrote a vivid description of some of the great and not-so-great chow houses in one of the rougher neighborhoods of Cleveland. You can really see the writier come out in letters like this. He has an eye for detail and an ear for language that make you feel like you’re sitting in one of these greasy, smoky, friendly joints yourself.  At first, I thought his description revealed him to be a sort of naive, rather prudish young man, but he addressed that in his final paragraph. “Maybe my comments make it look like I’ve been around more than I look or act. I enjoy doing things like that, just for the fun and the observing of people and places. You seemed to think I wouldn’t be acquainted with that part of town. Why? I love Cleveland and that’s part of it. ”

His deep fondness for his home town comes through loud and clear in so many of his letters. I remember when I was very small and we’d take family trips to visit my grandparents in Cleveland. I’d know we were getting close by the smell of coal and industiral by-products in the air. The skyline was filled with tall smokestacks, belching dense billowy clouds of gray and black. Sometimes, we could even see flames peeking from the tops. I recall feeling as though we were entering an alien and scary place. But then Dad would start to talk about what that plant over there manufactured. He’d recall a story of his youth about a summer job in this part of town, or his midnight drives through that neighborhood over there. I could sense his pride and affection for this strange and wonderful city, even years after he had moved away from it. What I had thought of as stench was perfume to his nostrils. What I saw as other-worldly and frightening, he saw as fascinating diversity. What I saw as bleak and harsh vistas he saw as magical palaces of modern industry and progress.

Dart’s P.S. on this letter refers to the way Dot closed her recent note. She said “I must clothes now and go wash some.” To a punster like Dart, that gag was like a love note. This girl was cute, cheerful, industrious and could turn a pun with the best of them. The perfect package!