Category Archives: 43. April 1947

Tuesday, April 1, 1947

Dart begins: “A couple of nice letters were here when I awoke this morning. It’s raining outside, but my window’s open a little and the rain smells like spring for sure. Gosh how I miss you. This is the kind of air I’d like to be breathing through your hair. We’d be taking big, deep breaths, feeling each other’s chests expanding and contracting as we lay close together, holding tightly. …Oh, if we could only begin now, to be together always, in all ways, how happy we’d be!”

He muses at length about the rightness or wrongness of their abstinence. To give into their desires would seem wrong to both of them because they’ve been raised to believe it’s so. But since their desire springs from love, can it be wrong? He confesses to the fact that he’s beginning to doubt the teachings of their childhoods.

Couldn’t it be true that they, who love each other so much, who want each other constantly, have a right to each other? When they repeated vows to each other so many months ago, in private, they meant them. “We mean them in our passion, and we mean them when sexual excitement is farthest from our minds,  and we mean them even when  our love leads to misunderstandings bordering almost on hatred. What more right can two people have to the most sacred thing two people can share?”

Suddenly, Dart refers to Ralph Waldo Emerson and his idea that the private thoughts and actions of an individual are not all that significant in the grand scheme of things. Emerson likens individual actions to the individual waves in the oceans – at the mercy of winds and tides. What really counts is the ebb and flow of the entire ocean, the drift and currents of society as a whole.

Dart explained about an experience he had last week when several students stayed after American lit class to speak with Mr. Carter. At that time, the professor warned the students against trying to teach their wives anything that they had learned from reading great literature. Carter confessed that in trying to teach his wife, he fell more into the role of teacher and sacrificed his role as a  husband. Dart believes that the problem with Carter is he believes no one is a better thinker or teacher than himself. His failure was in trying to teach his wife, rather than share ideas and thoughts with her. Dart brings this up now because he fears this letter is beginning to sound like one of those that will “awe” Dot, scare her, a little. That’s the last thing he wants! “I certainly don’t want to awe you with any display of knowledge, for the Lord knows I haven’t enough to run my own life smoothly, let alone try to influence another’s. But if I don’t share my thoughts with  you, I share them with no one. If I can’t share them with you, they’re worthless.”

He says the last thing he ever wants to do is to beat Dot around the ears with the blunt stump of his thinking until she is black and blue with his over-zealousness.

Returning to Emerson’s thoughts about individuals’ occasional actions that stray from their beliefs, Dart feels that the general drift or current of their own lives is good and positive. Therefore, they shouldn’t berate themselves, or feel too much guilt after those times when they strayed a bit.

Although he goes on for several pages, using poetic language and lovely phrasing, that’s the gist of this entire letter. Having made the case that they have not been wrong to express their desire through occasional minor experimentation, he then re-reads the letter he’s just written. In the margins, he writes notes to indicate that he now considers them to behaved correctly in sticking to the beliefs taught to them as children.

He notices that she’s avoided answering his “scolding” letter of a few days ago. (I think he should count his blessings on that score!) He claims he doesn’t want to be the type of man who would presume to scold anyone, yet he finds himself doing it too often, usually when it’s none of his business. Still, isn’t being concerned about his wife’s happiness his business, he asks.

He and Homer went to see “Sinbad the Sailor” tonight. it wasn’t a great movie, but it was extravagant. He hopes she and her friend Cynthia will have a chance to spend a little time together soon. When Dot writes of taking a hot bath and going to bed, it makes Dart nearly wild with imagination. How he’d like to bathe her and take her to bed,sweet-smelling and squeaky clean, without the bother of pajamas. As you might guess, this line of thought continues for another line or two…

This letter has taken him more than two and a half hours to write, and he must get some sleep. He’ll return tomorrow, and I’m happy to say, so will Dot! After an absence of many months, we have new letters from the other half of our pair, beginning tomorrow. See you then.

Wednesday, April 2, 1947

“These here-now days are sure a-flyin’ by fer all git out. But the nights – they’s a-makin’ up fer all the hustle days is doin’.”  So says Dart. He also declares that he better get a lot more school work done or he’ll be ending this vacation in worse shape than he started it. Even though he’s been staying up until nearly dawn some nights, he’s getting his eight hours of sleep – a habit he hopes to continue when classes start up again.

This vacation happens to come at mid-term, so he has as much time left of classes as he’s had since Dot was here.

Before he can settle down to school work during the day he must dig in and clean up his room. It’s so dirty now that he expects weeds to start sprouting from his floor any day.

He checked into the fares for those boat rides he’d mentioned previously, and he thinks they’re quite reasonable. These are revivals of the trips that ran on the lake for many years. The old boats were condemned or used by the US Navy as scrap to build aircraft carriers. Now there’s a new company using smaller boats on the same old routes.

He forgot to mention a detail about that chat with Mr. Carter last week. There were a couple of other guys there, including Fred, who’s taking a different class with Carter. Dart reports that “Fred’s okay. He’s still a little cynical, but so am I. He’s toned down a little.”

“You say you can’t cook, yet you describe how people gobble down your cakes. All those folks must have been gosh-awful  hungry!”

He thanks her for the little cartoon she sent and he assures her that he’ll buy a pair of black shoes before coming east. He also warns her that his upcoming letters will be short (for which this blogger is most grateful).

“This is all for tonight, Dot. I love you very much. Roll over and I’ll rub your back and then maybe I can show you a little of how very much I do love you. But you’ll have to kiss me our special way before I show you!

#          #          #

I’m delighted to welcome Dot back to the blog! Even though she only writes 99 pages between now and her final letter on June 8, she’ll add charming variety to what’s said here.

It sounds like not much has changed for Dot since we last heard from her directly. For example, tonight she went straight from her work at the telephone company to babysit at the home of the North family. That must be a new client. She hopes they get home early because she must be back at work at 8:30.

It would appear that Dot has lost  her regular work schedule – perhaps when she had to take off for her appendectomy. Apparently she works a split shift some times, day hours other times, and night hours occasionally, for good measure. She prefers the split shift because she only has to work 7 hours and has her afternoons free to get things done around the house. She’s worried that there will be a strike soon and she’ll have to quit. What kind of job could she get between then and the middle of June, she wonders. (I suspect she could babysit 24-hours a day, if she wanted to.)

Tomorrow night she and Cynthia will be attending the candlelight communion service at church and going for pizza afterwards. They hope Nancy can join them, if her boyfriend Art doesn’t make her a better offer.

She refers to Dart’s recent epistle about paint colors with a complete absence of sarcasm. All she says is that it would take her a while to come up with a similar chart. She thinks that while luster paint may be easier to clean, it might be harsh on the eyes. She’ll let him decide.

She sets about answering his other recent letters. March 28: If he says he likes the silhouette, he must be trying to be nice. No one else likes it. She agrees that a boat trip to Canada is a fine idea for later this summer – if they can afford it. She loves having things like that to look forward to. She believes that their mutual enjoyment of outdoor activities certainly adds to their companionship. Oh, how she wants to be the ideal companion for him! And, by the way, she assures him that he is already vital to her!

March 25: “Every time you tell me how much is in our account, it seems to be in the $70-range. Maybe I just figure wrong.”

March 26: “Don’t get mad about your school work. DO something about it! (She says, almost as if she knew what she was talking about.)”

Marcy 27: “Cynthia also gave me a blow-by-blow description of your freak  snow storm. Leave it to Ohio to be different when it comes to weather. …Congratulations on having a writing style. Congratulations also on having an article accepted by Skyline. Be sure to send it to me, won’t you?”

“UGH!! (My only comment on your beard.)”

She’ll be attending the sunrise service at church, followed by the sunrise breakfast, for which Eleanor is the Chair. Then she has to go in to work.

Their get-away plans for the wedding may need a little polishing, but they’re all set, for the most part. Both couples will get from the church to the reception at the house by car. The brides thought they’d pack their suitcases the night before the wedding and lock them in the trunk of the car so no one can meddle with them. Norm and El are working on the same plans.

She’s alarmed by his weight loss and orders him to stop. If he keeps losing and she keeps gaining, she’ll weigh more than him at the wedding, and that would never do!

It is probably much better that they couldn’t be together for his vacation. “When you come here for the wedding in June, Dart, we’ll have to be very careful. I’ll want to get to bed early every night anyway, ‘cuz it’ll take me ages to get to sleep.”

“To be perfectly frank, Dart, I was a little disappointed in you that night in January, too. Anyway, it’s all over now and we did profit from our mistake. As long as we can continue to settle our differences like that before we go to sleep, it will help a great deal.”

Her cousin Betty went to the hospital last night, hoping the baby wouldn’t be an April Fool. If it’s a boy, he will be Christopher. If it’s a girl, she’ll be named after Betty’s beloved late sister, Jane.

“There are about 10 girls at work who are about to leave to have babies. I feel like an outcast. But then, I guess I’d feel more like an outcast if I were leaving for the same reason!”

The Norths finally came home, so Dot ends the letter at her own place. She has enclosed a clipping about the two Chamberlain brides from the Sunday paper. “Imagine two of us on the society pages in one day! ” She asks that Dart return the clipping to her for placement in their scrapbook, and she sends him “loads of love.”

Thursday, April 3, 1947

Dart’s jubilant response to Dot gives us a peek into one of her lost letters. Let’s take a look.

“What a wonderful set of friends and family you picked out to love! That shower was really wonderful. Today’s letter did wonders, making up for none yesterday. I was so happy for you that I laughed. When I read parts of the letter to Pop, he laughed, too. Gee, that was a swell surprise!”

He remarks how they all must have “got up real early” to put one like that over on you. He marvels that so many people were able to keep such a big secret, especially from one as sharp as Dot.

“I can just see you being so surprised that you sank down and cried! I know how little you seemed to expect that, so I can appreciate the complete surprise. You show your appreciation so nicely that people just love doing things for you. Gee, you’re swell, Dot. I can envision the Chamberlains hiding things in a hurry, then making an SOS phone call to somebody to get you out of the house, then getting out the stuff for another sprint.”

She mentioned that she got 12 pieces of lingerie, but he counted only 11 on the list. He’s curious about the missing piece and he questions whether or not he’s supposed to know about such things. He assures her that he’s eager to participate in the “christening ceremony” for some of that lingerie at Hotel Green sometime in June.

He admits to being “stoopid” about things like this, but what’s the significance of the umbrella at this shindig? “You mentioned it in connection with the cake and decorations, so what gives?” I guess it never dawned on him to think of this “shindig” as a shower!

The Petersons had three visitors last night. Tom Reilly stopped by for a nice long visit with Dart. When Uncle Guy and Aunt Jean came over, the boys retreated to the basement. Guy and Jean said they may drive to Connecticut for the wedding in June, but no one in the family really believes they will.

Tom once again impressed Dart as being a “peach of a fellow,” nice and so easy to get along with. Dart mentioned that Tom is a Catholic, and even though he’s not at all sensitive about it, Dot should know in order to avoid any embarrassing moments at the wedding. Well, maybe Tom and Dot’s Catholic bridesmaid Columbia will get along well at the festivities.

He shopped around a little for the conduits and other electrical material he’ll need for wiring the third floor. He ‘s happy to report that the materials will not be too expensive. He wishes he could say the same for the cabinets.

How happy he is that Dot liked his ramblings about companionship. It’s 2:00 AM and the cats in the alley are giving a concert, despite Dart’s having told them this is not a good time for such things.

“Good night, Darling. I could say something about not wanting to spoil that pretty lingerie by wearing it all night, but I won’t.”

#          #          #

Dot sweetens her very short letter by enclosing a $5.00 check for deposit into their penny account. She hopes that brings it to $80 or more so they still have a hope of reaching $100 in that account by June 20. Even if they don’t, she thinks they’ll be in pretty fair financial shape to start their life together.

Nancy had a date with Art, Cynthia had a sore throat, and Dot feels flat out dead. In spite of that, she and her mother and El visited at Gordon and Betty’s house today and took them their anniversary gifts. Dot can’t believe they’ve been married for four years already. (In fact, Gordon and Betty eventually celebrated their 60th anniversary by dining and dancing at their favorite restaurant. When they returned, Betty, who had suffered from dementia for years, quietly passed away.)

Dot’s cousin Dot Rucquoi and her sister Peggy and two Belgian cousins were visiting today. Dot R. is expecting her next baby next month.

Speaking of babies, Dot’s other cousin Betty was sent home from the hospital today after a couple of days of “on-again, off-again” labor. Dot’s grateful not to be her right now.

She’s excited that the wallpaper for the front hall came today. It’s a soft gray background with pussy willows on it. In fact, I remember that wallpaper from my visits to Nana’s house when we were kids. I guess when they found a paper they could live with, they were in no rush to re-do that massive foyer and stairwell ever again!

Someone was willing to switch hours with Dot on Sunday, so she’ll be able to attend Easter services after all.

She noticed that Dart put a recent stamp on upside down. Yes, she loves him, too. “For more details, see tomorrow’s mailbox!”

Friday, April 4, 1947

Dart admits there’s not much point to his short letter, except to tell her about his day and remind her how much he loves her.

“I got up, read Life and my checking account statement, took a bath, showed Pop how pretty my nice new engine runs, got a haircut, mopped the front hall, and ate lunch. Met Rand, Dick, and Jim downtown and we went to a bar. I had four Cokes while the others had some witches brew of some kind. ”

He describes the restaurant they went to called Webers – an old Cleveland tradition. He declares that the only changes Webers has made in its history are replacing some very old waiters for some middle-aged ones, replacing gas lights with electric ones just prior to the ’29 crash, and printing new menus to keep up with the prices.

After dinner, they all went to the Skyline meeting, followed by the usual trip to Ted’s. Dart ran into the editorial staff of the Plain Dealer at Ted’s, and he wonders what they’ll think of him being in a bar. (Well, they, too, were in a bar, so what could they say?) “They’ll think I’m an awful bar-fly. Don’t worry, honey. I haven’t been corrupted yet.”

He reminds her that there’s just one month between April and June which almost makes the wedding seem close. He figures its about 77 days away.

#          #          #

The sun woke me up at 6:15 this morning and it is such a beautiful world I couldn’t resist sharing it with you. This is one of the mornings I woke up feeling “It’s so good to be alive, and so much in love with Dart!”

She comments that if her window wasn’t so dirty, she probably would have awakened at an even earlier hour. She says she should try to get those windows clean one of these days. (Remember, her windows are on the third floor!)

Last night at dinner she commented that maybe they should move the wedding up to June 14. Her father started tugging at his hair and and exclaimed “If this wedding comes off one second earlier than previously scheduled, I’ll jump off the Brooklyn Bridge!”

“Guess that settles it,” quipped Dot.

Well, it’s time to get dressed and go to work but she wanted to start her day chatting with him a bit. She tells Dart that when the sun finally strained through her dirty window, it landed right on his picture on her bedside table. She pretended it was more than a picture and had a nice conversation with it.

No one writes tomorrow, but Dar will be back on the 6th.

Sunday, April 6, 1947

Dart announces there’s a new order around here and he will be going to bed in 20 minutes, whether this letter is finished or not.

He tells Dot that last night he typed her a four-page letter, but he was in such a foul mood that he decided the pages were better sent to the furnace instead of placed in the mail. He fears his thoughts would have caused her needless worry and may have hurt her unintentionally. That begs the question “Then why even tell her the letter existed?”

One contributor to his mood was the fact that he didn’t finish even a third of the school work he’d intended to accomplish over break. Today brought the biggest accomplishment of his entire vacation – he cleaned his room! He’d be ashamed if she could see the piles of dirt, junk, and waste paper that he hauled down to the furnace today, but now he hopes the order in his room will allow him to work more efficiently.

He worked last night at the PD, but has begged off tonight. That will screw up his pay, but her just had to get a decent night’s sleep before heading back to school tomorrow.

He ushered  both services today. Even with extra chairs, there was not a single open seat at either 9:00 or 11:00. Between services there was a light breakfast served to the ushers, choir, deacons, and minister. He loves the friendliness of this place. He said that he felt more a member of the church this morning than he has since the teen parties last fall. He wonders if that’s responsible for his change in mood.

Saturday was beautiful, reaching 79 degrees and bringing open windows, shirt sleeves and summer dresses.  Even though it rained in the evening, by the time he left work, there was a huge bright moon grinning at him.

His mother thanks Dot for the beautiful Easter flowers that look so nice on the mantle in front of the mirror. Helen hopes to write to Dot herself soon.

With 30 seconds to go until bedtime, he sends her all his love and a string of Xs and Os.

Tuesday, April 8, 1947

Dot hasn’t said anything about Dart getting a full-time job for the month of July, but he has an interview for it tomorrow. It would be evening work, four or five hours a night.

He squeaked by with a barely passing grade on his last Spanish test. He’s relieved, but not pleased.

He forgot to mention that they had Easter dinner at the Burke home and Uncle Art came in from Ashtabula for the day.

He finally got some polish on “their” desk, and it looks much better.

When he deposits her $5.00 into the penny account, they’ll have $82.00

Has she decided what to do about the strike? It would be a shame to quit her job because all the strikers will return to work when it’s over. If she stays, she won’t have to find another job for the brief stint until the wedding.

He has learned that gloss paint is about $1.00 more per gallon than the flat paint. He suggests they paint the walls flat and the woodwork glossy.

He frets a bit more about their get-away plan. If they park a car somewhere with their honeymoon luggage locked inside, might the car get broken into? He claims there’s been a rash of honeymoon car burglaries in Cleveland lately. Golly, the way he writes about Cleveland lately, it seems as though the city has become a post Apocalyptic hell-hole!

What’s his secret for losing weight? Well, don’t eat; get intestinal flu, a sinus infection, and another bout of flu within a two-month period; worry like the devil; and try to do two or three things at once.”Only you can’t keep your hair that way, nor your complexion, nor your bagless eyes.”

That was a nice press notice she got about her shower. He’s very much looking forward to seeing some of the bounty of that party in June.

He hopes Betty F. has had her baby by now, and he hopes Dot’s “visitor” has left by now.

He’s gotta get to bed, so he sends his love.

#          #          #

Dot has been painting the third floor rooms for nine hours, along withe El and Norm for some of that time. They went out for pizza and then she and El stayed up talking. It’s nearly 1:30 AM when she starts this letter.

The strike continues, but she’s not going to let it ruin her life. She has a job interview tomorrow at the YWCA. They need someone for two months to help out in gym classes. She took those same classes for three years, nearly 10 years ago, so maybe that will help her with the job.

Meanwhile, she has a paid chaperone job at the Y on Friday night. They’re having a dance for 14 and 15-year-olds. Dot’s not sure what she’ll do if the kids pull anything they shouldn’t, but she’s being paid $1.00 an hour so make sure they don’t.

Dot wanted to surprise El and Norm with how much painting she got done while they were at work, so she got an early start this morning. For her nine hours of labor, she doesn’t think she accomplished much, but her father told her she’d done a good painting job, so she’s happy. “I’ll be a real veteran with a paint brush by the time we begin fixing up our home. I missed your companionship an awful lot today. We could chat and make cracks at each other and have even more fun than El and Norm and I do when the three of us begin wielding brushes.”

She tells Dart a funny incident that happened today. The three painters had divided the paint into one large and two small containers. Norman wanted a small can to take into the bathroom for some touch-up work. He looked around a bit and said, “I see both you girls have small cans.” Dot thanked him politely, but told him hers was plenty large enough. At the time, she was squatting and almost busting out of her trousers, and everybody had a good laugh.

“I’m really looking forward to helping you make over our apartment. It’ll be loads of fun to see the progress we make and to experiment with new ideas. I’m glad we’re not wealthy, because if we were, we’d probably hire someone else to do the work and that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”

Gosh, how I’ve missed Dot’s playful and positive attitude during the “lost letters” months!

She tells Dart she looks forward to working with him as much as playing with him. And she asks him why they shouldn’t use an umbrella to decorate at a shower! “Where’s your keen sense of humor these days?” Good question, Dot.

She thanks him for the copy of the March Skyline and looks forward to seeing his piece in the June issue.

Now she sends him a kiss and suggests they just lie there and thank God for each other.

Wednesday, April 9, 1947

Dart acknowledges Dot’s long airmail letter that arrived today and wishes he had time to do it justice, but he’s buried alive in assignments that are due tomorrow. After enumerating the myriad reasons he’s under stress, he warns her “You’ll have to soothe my shattered nerves in the week before we’re married. That is, if my chains, leather collar, muzzle, and straight-jacket don’t do it.”

Then he writes the first indication that we may be missing a letter from Dot. “I’m sorry you have troubles, Dot, but you’re free to unload ’em on me. Just be careful of my ‘broad’ shoulders. They come off with my coat.” I certainly don’t recall any letters this month that would have indicated Dot is plagued with “troubles.” Indeed, her letters have seemed chipper, upbeat and positive.

He mentions that Mrs Wolff “sold” him a corsage of white carnations, but he guesses the white roses were prettier. He’s happy the Greenwich florist was kind to her. I surmise from this statement that he ordered her an Easter corsage that the local florist upgraded to roses.

And then it begins…a multi-page rant about the trouble with the country. It begins innocuously enough when he expresses sadness at her “labor” trouble. I guess that means the dreaded telephone company strike has begun. The conversation morphs immediately into a tirade about the moral decline of the nation. He puts the blame on the growth of big business and then on the surge of big unions. He hopes that things will get better someday, but he’s skeptical. “It’s further evidence of what we used to call ‘moral standards’ being shot to hell. He further rants that decent, democracy-loving people are being bullied by corrupt politicians, unscrupulous labor leaders and selfish, bigoted businessmen.

Pages later, he’s still going on about a “premium being set on mediocrity and laziness.” As in so many wild rantings, specifics are few and venom is plentiful I’m really not at all sure about what set him off, nor what exactly he means by all this. I guess I’ll chalk it up to fatigue. What’s clear to me is that the raving spitfire who wrote this letter bears little resemblance to the man I knew as “Dad.” I honestly believe that if Dart had not had the good fortune to meet and marry Dot, he might have hardened into a brittle, bitter, anti-social cynic. Dot provided the positivity and humor that kept his dark side in check. Conversely, he provided a certain gravitas that helped deepen her world view. What a perfect pair these very different people made.

In the end, he thanks Dot for sharing her feelings with him. He thinks it’s a pity that she feels forced to quit her job at the telephone company, but he supports whatever decision she makes.

#          #          #

In contrast to Dart’s letter, Dot’s is full of cheery news. Eleanor has ordered the bridesmaids dresses for both of them, after taking Harriet and her own bridesmaid Vonnie to give their opinions. From the sketches they made for Dot, she thinks they’re very pretty. The color theme for the wedding is rainbow, so each of the “maids” will wear a different pastel color of the taffeta gown.

She hesitates to break bad news to Dart, but the wedding has had to be postponed…by 30 minutes, The start time will be 8:00 because June 20, being the longest day of the year, puts sunset so late that the full effect of the candlelight ceremony would be lost if they started too early. She hopes Dart can stand to wait an extra half hour to make her his wife.

Also, the invitations have been ordered. Her share came to a whopping $30.00. How happy she is that almost all the expenses are being cut in half between her and her sister. Dot hopes she’ll stay married for a very long time because these weddings are too expensive to do one again any time soon.

This morning, if he recalls, she was supposed to have a job interview at the YWCA. The woman who was due to conduct the interview suddenly remembered that she had a meeting out of the office at that same time, so she stopped by the house at 10:30! Dot was eating breakfast in her pj’s with her hair up in pin curls when the woman arrived. In spite of all that, she was offered the dance chaperone job for Friday, and if all goes well with that, she’ll start the full-time job!

Reading about this whole incident made me laugh out loud! Is this typical life in a small town, or was this truly a remarkable event? But, there’s more. Later that evening, as Dot was sitting down to dinner with her friend Nancy, the YWCA woman stopped by again! She was hoping Dot would agree to do her a favor tomorrow night. It seems that 14 girls and their chaperones were scheduled to go into NYC tomorrow night to see the ice show at Radio City Music Hall and then have dinner at the Hotel Plaza. One of the chaperones cancelled at the last minute, and Dot has been asked to step in. There’s no pay for this gig, but her dinner and the show will be paid by the Y. Naturally, Dot jumped at the chance. “Say, maybe I’ve been wrong, keeping a steady job this winter,” she quips.

On top of all of this, she saw an ad in today’s paper for an “information taker” for one of the town offices. It’s a temp position lasting only a few weeks, but she’s going to look into in tomorrow. “No harm trying to have a choice in jobs from now until June.”

She bought a gallon of paint today to finish painting the wall of the third floor. “After I finish the walls, I can have my pick of painting the trim on the second floor, painting the front bathroom, painting the kitchen, or hanging the wall paper in the front hall. I’ll have to sleep on it awhile.”

If I know Dot, I suspect she’ll have a hand in all of the aforementioned jobs! The Chamberlains are pulling out all the stops to spruce up their home for the upcoming nuptials. And to think they put all this money and effort into a rented house!

She and Nancy went to see a corny movie called “The Man I Love” tonight. “It was all I could do to sit though it. I’ve lost my taste for movies, and I’m not sorry. Life is so much more interesting as real people live it. And love is ever so much more thrilling when I’m the one doing the loving and being loved!”

She doubts very much that she would think less of him if she saw his messy room. If he could see hers right now, he’d feel better about his.

She can’t wait to model some of the lingerie for him. She’s especially excited by the beautiful set her mother made her; the skirt is six yards wide around the bottom!

Thursday, April 10, 1947

On his way home from prose workshop class this evening, Dart bought a pint of honeydew ice cream. He’s been hiccuping honeydew flavor ever since.

I’m relieved that he says he’s been in high spirits ever since he wrote what he calls “that bitterly despondent” letter. Maybe those letters serve to exorcise his demons. He’s been sticking to his schedule and has managed to complete most of his required work.  Last night was his only serious breach of schedule when he stayed up until 4:00 typing a seriously overdue book report on The Scarlet Letter.

Again tonight, Miss Talmage read an essay he wrote before vacation. She had praise for it, but he only got a B+ on it. He hopes to re-work it and submit it for publication in the Skyline.

He had a nice chat with Elmer Manley today. Elmer’s wedding has been moved up to June 14th. He truly hopes that he and Dot can be friends with Elmer and Norma when they’re all married. Norma was a lifeguard at the beach last summer, so she and Dot might have love of water sports in common.

He wishes her the best of luck on her job search. He’s impressed with her varied employment background and her ease with finding jobs. He thinks all that bodes well for her job search in Cleveland. Even with all the job openings in the city, he has a hard time finding one he thinks he’d like.

Oh, how he’d love to be part of her little painting party. He loves working in congenial little groups like that. He remarks that it looks like Norman has shown himself to be a pretty regular guy, after all. I guess Norman was so quiet at first that no one in the boisterous, gregarious Chamberlain clan knew quite what to make of him, but they’ve warmed up to him now.

Not only does he look forward to working side-by-side with Dot on their apartment, but he wants to kiss away any of her tears, provide an understanding ear if she gets homesick, and give her therapeutic back rubs whenever the need arises.  But, he chastises himself, this is supposed to be a cheerful letter to match the bright and beautiful spring day.

(“Darn these honeydew burps!”)

In her recent letter, Dot mentioned “unmentionables.” He’s curious if she’ll be getting any of “those strapless or wired jobs” If she does get any of the wired variety, he’ll be more than happy to fix any of their short circuits.

He begs forgiveness for his thick skull over the shower/umbrella thing, and he mourns the loss of his humor. Nowadays, he confesses, he has to be beaten over the head with a joke before he notices one.

After bringing himself back from a wonderful reverie about the many beautiful ways their wedding night might unfold, he admits it’s time for bed and he bids her good night, with lots of love.

Friday, April 11, 1947

Dart is beating himself up a little. Rather than mail her his letter yesterday, he went to the Skyline meeting “Leaving my brain, my wits, and my letter to you right here on my desk.” Consequently,  she’ll get two letters on the same day and he’ll number the envelopes so she’ll know which one to open first.

He’s been thinking about her chaperoning jobs. How was the ice show? How did the dance go? Did she have fun? Were the kids any trouble? Did she get the job?

Today was his Aunt Elizabeth’s 70th birthday. He can’t believe she’s that old because she’s so young in spirit. (In my earliest memories of Aunt Elizabeth some 10 years after this letter was written, she strikes me as a tiny withered lady of about 127, with a discernible twinkle in her eye.)

Pop seems to be picking up a bit now. Dart was very worried about him when he first got home, and blames his concern over his father for the depressed letter he consigned to the furnace last Saturday.

He commented on the old stationery Dot used recently. It was cute and colorful stuff, left over from her days at Andrews. It sure brought back some great old memories of those days that now seem so very long ago,

He agrees that the wedding invitations seem expensive. He liked learning about all the colors of the bridesmaid dresses, and he reports back to Dot that the ushers will be wearing black and white. He likes the limited choices faced by grooms.

“That nightie your mother made must be something from a dream. ‘Wait and see,’ she says. What else can I do, doggone it! Gee, how will I ever find you in all that nightie?”

#          #          #

Dot begins this letter in a serious mood. What she really wants is a nice long conversation with her fiance – not another attempt at addressing concerns via mail. Although her days could not be a success if they started with no letter from him, letters are beginning to bother her because she wants so much more. By the time one of them writes his or her thoughts on a serious topic and mails them, then waits for a response, whatever was bothering them has passed. A case in point is the letter she wrote about her job and the strike. “By the time your answer arrived, my mood had changed and I wasn’t receptive to the good advice you sent me. Result: Nothing was gained and I’m afraid much of your time was wasted. …I’m not very happy with the present set-up. I feel we’re going to be cheated these next two months out of some good discussions. It’s so easy for me to talk when I’m with you, and so difficult for me to write.”

She believes he still has unresolved concerns about an incident that happened between them in January. She wishes he’d come clean with her. If he thinks she handled the situation wrong, then he should tell her. She certainly won’t be hurt or angry if he has a different opinion from hers. In fact, she’d be very interested in knowing what his thoughts are on the subject.

Well, on Monday morning at 8:30, she starts her new job – but it’s not at the YWCA!. She’ll be working at the Price and Lee Company, collecting information for the town directory. She’ll work six days a week until 5:30, walking all over town, talking to people. The job will last until June 1 and pay $30 a week. That’s not as much as she would have made at the phone company, but far more than the Y could have paid her. She also likes that the job is temporary, so she won’t be letting anyone down when she leaves in June.

It may be that she has disappointed Dart by quitting  her operator’s job, but she can’t afford not to work. As it stands now, she has a job to go to on Monday, and the strikers will still be on strike. Besides, how would it look if she didn’t walk the picket line and then went back to work, making the same hourly rate as those who did picket? “To me, that would be just as undemocratic as the strike itself.”

She apologizes for not commenting on his desire to work full time in July. “Believe me, honey. It isn’t because I’m not interested. I’m either half asleep when I write to you, or I have so much to tell you that I just skim over your letters, missing many of your questions.” Although she has lots of ideas of how he could spend four or five evenings a week, she realizes that he needs to make lots of money before returning to school in order to feel secure. She wishes him the best of luck in getting that job at the PD.

Saturday, April 12, 1947

The first couple pages of Dart’s 14-pager are a rather amusing depiction of his initiation into the Sigma Tau Delta honor fraternity for English students and teachers. It was a solemn ceremony with a line of chairs containing 20 inductees facing a long line of chairs of older (very much older) members. Three ladies in “smocky-looking” robes stepped forward and said “I am Truth,” of “I am Sincerity,” or “I am Design.”

“They then set off reading a long spiel about the aesthetics of writing ‘not for fame or notoriety, not for money, or for messages of duty, but for the sheer joy of creating.'”

The 20 inductees blew out candles and recited a little piece in unison, reading from copies which were collected from them at the end of the ceremony. Just like that, he’s a proud new member of a proud old profession. “Sound the trumpets! Ring the gongs! Roll the drums!”

Work was slow enough tonight that he was able to type a draft of his next prose workshop assignment.

And that’s where the letter made an abrupt turn. He suddenly launches into a long dissertation about strikes and unions and corporations and government and the moral decay of America. (Didn’t we just see this movie a few days ago?) I don’t plan to recap his tirade here, except to say he is a young man of strong opinions.

Skipping to the end of the rant, he redeems himself a bit. “I’ve made plenty of sweeping generalizations here, and I’ve treated things in the good old logical ‘black or white, no gray’ attitude. I don’t know what good this has done. As you know, I think with my pen. I had no idea it would be this long or this boring. … Gee, I didn’t even get to open one of my letters from you.  ‘Some guy’ started making wise about unions and rights and stuff, and he wouldn’t let me make wise with the love stuff. Goodnight my darling. I don’t know how I’ll ‘think’ when I don’t have you to write to. But I’d rather not think than to give you up. I hope you’re getting used to this kind of stuff by now.”

After sending his love, he added a PS:  By your protests to the other girls about the strike, you were doing your duty as a member of society which calls itself democratic. Their threats, fines, and social ostracism were surely not democratic.