This is an unusual letter from Dart. It begins with his musing about having nothing to write about. He wonders about his next visit home; Who will he see? How will his beloved city look to him? How much time will he be able to spend with Dot? Which of his buddies will also be on furlough at the same time?

Then he glides into a poignant trip through some memories he has not shared with Dot before. The source of these particular memories are a time just after high school graduation when he and his chum Mac worked the 4 PM to midnight shift at Cleveland’s war plant. He does not mention what the work entailed, focusing instead on what happened after their shift ended.

They would get to Mac’s house around 12:45 AM to pick up his car. There’s no mention of how they got to Mac’s place – whether by foot, street car or some other means. They sometimes took the Peterson family car, but Mac’s car was newer, faster, and all his own, making it the preferred chariot for their midnight roaming. Dart mentions one particular night when they drove out to Conneaut – about 60 miles east of Cleveland. Mac’s older sister lived there and was sick enough to need a ride to the hospital. They stopped at a drive-in restaurant for some burgers to take along, and made the trip to get Mac’s sister. (I didn’t know there were late night drive-in burger joints way back then.)

Another time, Mac and four other friends picked Dart up and went driving all over northern Ohio in the wee hours. Dart recalls they put 200 miles on the car in four hours, exploring small towns and back roads.

I was deeply moved by one paragraph. “These were happy times, whether they look it now or not. They look pretty weak on paper, but we were all just out of high school, had our first high-paying jobs, gas and tires could be had for the asking, and our time was our own.” Our specific memories may differ, but don’t we all have memories of those times when life was easy and exciting and full of possibilities? When good friendships and easy conversation fed our souls?  I am so grateful that these young men who were about to fight a long war had those precious care-free weeks during that summer .

Dart ends his letter as it began – apologizing for having nothing to say.  Said he, “Lots of paper used up to chatter about nothing, isn’t it?”

I have to disagree.

Here’s a long letter from Dot, once again showcasing her joyful spirit, easy humor and gift for making simple daily activities fun to read about. Dart must have loved getting this one.

She talks mostly about her trip into Cleveland with roommates Cathie and Andy. This is a long weekend break for the students at Andrews, and these three friends didn’t want to waste a minute of it.

They took a train into Cleveland (that suburb of Willoughby, in Dot’s words) and grabbed a nice big breakfast. After stopping by a popcorn shop, they crossed the street to the movie theater to see “Last Angel,” starring Margaret O’Brien. Dot was very impressed with the little six-year old star.

The friends emerged into the sunlight at 3:20 and glanced down the street. The film “A Guy Named Joe” was playing nearby. The three girls discussed whether or not to go see it, all the while walking toward the theater. The theater was packed, and they were relegated to sitting in the balcony.  They loved the film, which starred Spencer Tracy, Irene Dunn and Van Johnson. Ronald Coleman may have a little competition from Spencer for a spot in Dot’s affection.

Dot explained to Dart that she called his mother while in town. She was tempted to go for a face-to-face visit, but strongly feels Dart should be present when Dot and his parents meet for the first time.

Back on campus, Dot had the luxury of sleeping late for once, before returning to work the next day. She sings the praises of Mrs. Woodworth, the world’s most perfect housemother, who is spoiling the eight girls who are spending their break in the house. She does all the cooking, which is a sure way into Dot’s heart.  She describes the bountiful meal Mrs. Woodworth prepared for the girls. “It looked like an almost perfect replica of ‘The Horn of Plenty’. When you see things like that, it surely is hard to believe there’s a war going on, much less that it’s involving our own families and friends here at home. Guess we’re all a lot luckier than we give America credit for.” I love the natural state of gratitude in which this young woman spends her life. She sees blessings all around her and is a natural at expressing her appreciation of them.

She mentions that Dart’s mother told her there is a chance he could be home in three weeks. Dot’s very happy to think about it, but doesn’t want to get her hopes up.

Dart’s letter begins with an apology for not writing the day before. He was feeling awful all day and spiked a fever of 103 degrees. Even as he writes, he’s miserable, but he says the act of writing makes him feel better.

He remarks about how much she must be spending on all those high quality Hallmark cards she sends him, not to mention the postage for all her letters. He’s sorry that letters to servicemen cannot be mailed for free, while those from them can be.

Referring to Dot’s description of a huge weekend meal at Andrews, including the fact that she loves corn, Dart writes “I like corn, too. Almost all the varieties. Even like jokes and music that are right off the cob. (Never tried the fermented, liquid variety.)” Not bad writing for a guy with a fever, eh?

He answered her question about why he drew the maps on his surveying expedition and was not involved in the mathematical calculations. He explained quite honestly that his lack of talent with integral and differential calculus is what got him flushed out of Case. But fortunately for the map-making team, he was top notch on mechanical drawing. He said again how much fun the field work had been that hot Ohio summer.

He signed off feeling much better than when he started.

Here’s a quick one from Dot. She’s happy the Navy, and especially Dr. Gordon, have finally recognized that Dart has earned a “vacation.” She truly hopes the proposed sick leave actually happens.

She urged Dart not to try so hard to make her feel better about her letters when he writes such “masterpieces” every day. She is so impressed by his vocabulary that she sometimes feels stupid in comparison. To this day in 2014, Dot still seriously undervalues both her intellect and her writing abilities. (Sigh!)

She tells a funny tale of a recent episode at school – only this time, she is the victim of a prank. Reading it gives me a flavor of how much fun these Andrews girls had during their daily lives.

Dart’s letter begins where yesterday’s left off- pulling together some loose ends in his response to Dot’s earlier letter. He’s compelled to correct her assumption that it was his uncle who was the spaghetti expert;  it is, in fact his dad. He cautioned her not to pin too much hope on his getting sick leave, even though Dr. Gordon tells him every day that his chances of getting approved are good.

Having once mentioned to Dot about the plethora of juvenile cards he receives from one of his maided aunts, he now remarks about an absurd get-well card he received from someone who signed herself “Great Aunt Dottie.” He wrote “I never had a Great Aunt Dottie. It’s just like some elderly jane with a spiked coke in her to try and make some sailor with a thing like that! The strangest thing about the card was that on the back was a note from you!”

He reported that her letter, postmarked at 5:00 PM on the 22nd arrived at his bedside at 2:00 PM on the following day. Pretty good service from the post office, I’d say.

He continues in a sarcastic tone about what a great world it is. “I write her pretty letters, trying to woo her, and what does she do? She tells me my vocabulary makes her feel stupid!”

Referring to the “candy” episode perpetrated on Dot by some art students, he writes a page of “Tips form the Kitchen” about food pranks she might use in retaliation.

Almost as an aside, he mentions that he had a swollen gland earlier in the week, presumably caused by the pneumonia. After the gland returned to normal size, his leg was in so much pain they had to keep him seriously doped up to get through it. “Now my left thigh is the size and shape of a beer keg and you could cut raw meat with the right thigh.” Because of the diagnosis of phlebitis, he’s been placed back on the serious list, but only because Dr. Gordon wants him to get extra care so that his leave won’t be delayed. He still hasn’t been out of bed for days, except for a few harrowing minutes while his sheets were changed one day. How can he be ready for leave any time soon?

Posted in the corner of Dot’s letter is a 10-cent war stamp which she has labeled “To be used for the precise purpose of keeping Peterson alive in Navy hopitals.” She hopes a dime will do the trick and that he’ll be out soon. She’ll still continue to buy war stamps because she has a brother in the Navy, too.

She scolds him for letting a fever get the best of him. “I thought we had an understanding – you’re to get completely well.”

She mentions that last night one of her housemates who was just returning from a weekend at home came in to tell Dot about an interesting find she made in a trunk at her parents’ house. It was a wedding announcement for the marriage of Helen Burke and Dart Ganes Peterson! (It took place in June 1920.) Wrote Dot, “Does it sound familiar, or weren’t you around when all this took place?”

She would love to grant his request to send some of those oatmeal cookies her housemates made, but she doesn’t want to insult his stomach. They were terrible! She takes back almost everything she said about being the worst cook. She can at least manage to make decent desserts!

She alerted him to the fact that she had mailed him a package today. It was some inexpensive stationery they had at her store. She says it’s not worthy of him, but she hopes he’ll find some use for it – like writing to her.

Well, Dart followed through on his threat to write to Dot on a brown paper bag, in pencil. Sadly, I can scarcely make out any of it from my digital reproduction. If I had the actual letter still in my pocession I’m sure I could decipher more of it. As it is, I can only post it below and hope that younger eyes than mine can make out a phrase or two.

Dot starts by addressing his concerns over her many love affairs and correcting his statement “You can’t love two and still be true.” Says Dot, “I love corn, but does that mean I’m untrue to you? No. I love Ronald Coleman, but do I go out with him and be untrue to you? No. …All the other men are what you might call ‘side-kicks;’ I’d kick them aside for you.”

After a few other comments about his dislike of seafood versus her love of it, and a hope that his parents’ home redecorating will be complete when he arrives, she underscores her opening remarks with a list of her love affairs, in order of importance. (Spoiler alert: Dart Peterson comes out on top, followed by Ronald Coleman, corn and Van Johnson.)

The best part of Dart’s lengthy letter was a paragraph about how Dot runs herself down when describing her cooking skills. Referring to someting Dot once told him was her probable fate in life, he quips, “You better learn to cook before you start your ‘old maid’s home for bachelors,’ because when, or if, that happens, I’ll probably still be chasing you around and will turn up as one of the bachelors.” How sweet! And how glad all parties are that it didn’t turn out that way.

The letter also contains the news that the doctor who was working so hard to get Dart approved for sick leave has been transferred. The nurses assure Dart that the new doctor is even nicer than Dr. Gordon and his chances of getting that leave are as good as ever. “When I see that ol’ train ticket and get my pass for the wide open spaces, I’ll be sure of my sick leave. Not until.”

The rest of the letter was a long and detailed explanation of Camp Case, which Dot had asked for. It was obviously an experience Dart enjoyed writing about.

Dot’s “letter” is a rather curious get-well card that literally goes on for pages. I can’t imagine something this odd being available in today’s world. Read it for yourself and see if you agree.

This short letter displays a certain degree of boredom between the lines. It is a litany of mundane activities for the day; letter-writing, eating, reading an Esquire magazine from 1937, sketching a bookcase he’d like to build after the war and a studio in his future dream home. The highlight of his day was being bundled up into a basket-like stretcher and going via ambulance to the x-ray area on the hospital grounds. “If they had wanted to see my ribs, they could have done it just as easily by looking at me from the outside.”

He wondered if anyone had ever taken pictures of Dot with the roll of film he sent her. He says the nurses tell him he will get his sick leave easily and soon. “It sounds too good be true,” said Dart.

Dot’s sumbission to today’s correspondance is actually two letters written on the same day. Referring to Dart’s paper bag letter, she says it brought a lot of cheer to the house the day it arrived. She will attempt to answer all his questions, but first she must rest her eyes.

She mentions a double feature that she and Cathie saw recently. One of the films was called “Girls on Probation,” which Dot deemed “very educational.” She said it showed that crime doesn’t pay, so she’ll have to change her plans for her future profession.

The second letter is mostly in response to the questions he posed in the paper bag letter. I gather the main topic was making plans for his pending leave time. Dot answers that as far as she’s concerned, they could sit outside on a step and talk the whole time. As for dancing, she says that knowing the two of them, they would either  need a whole evening of waltzes, or sit it out. She acknowledges that he guessed correctly – eating is her favorite indoor sport, but she’ll plan to eat a huge meal before he arrives so she won’t appear to be too hungry.

It seems that plans are already in the works for a flurry of letters between the Andrews faculty and the mothers of the two young lovers. Permissions and guidelines must be obtained in order for Dot to spend time with Dart off campus during his leave. Thankfully, both mothers are known and respected by the faculty. I think the liberation of Europe involved less planning than this as yet unapproved leave!

This letter continues a theme Dart explored earlier – the monotonous life he leads making it difficult to think of things to say. He resorts once again to the diary method, beginning with a midnight wake-up to take his sulpha pills. The sleep interruptions continue throughout the night at regular intervals, and he’s up for good at 7:45. He walked three steps to the chair while his sheets were changed, and fell into the arms of an alert aide when he rose to get back in bed. The latest guess is that he’ll be allowed out of bed for good in about a week.

He writes a wonderful riff on the 1935 Esquire that he’s been reading. “That’s Esquire as it was, the Esquire that gained its fame for racy cartoons and good stories. The Esquire that is no more… But in addition…that issue showed Progress more than anything else I’ve read recently…Styles have changed…A full display of cars is shown – most of the 1936 cars are never seen on the streets any more…And what makes this magazine distinctive is that there is nothing about the war. ” There is so much packed into this paragraph that I could write about! How sublime it must have been to be temporarily immersed in a world with no war! How odd that nine-year old cars were obsolete! How fun it was for Dart to enjoy a magazine that had been published when he was 11 years old.

He continues on to talk about letters he received and ones he wrote in the afternoon. He mentions that his swollen leg is getting smaller and his shriveled leg is getting thicker. The snow is nearly gone, and he pines for the spring-like weather he has heard Cleveland is enjoying.

When a bit of pessimism about his pending leave sneaks into the letter, he derides himself for it. “I should be shot at sunrise by a quartet of orangutans trained in the use of bow and arrow.” He apologizes for not having anything interesting to write to his girl. (I’d say he did just fine!)

Dot writes with what she hopes is good news. She just learned that her upcoming weekend break has been moved up to March 17, which she hopes will be the perfect time to spend with Dart. She’ll be staying at a classmate’s home on the east side of Cleveland, near Dart’s folks. I know a couple of kids who will be crushed if this pending leave doesn’t work out the way they hope.

She had a pop quiz in English today – on punctuation. She says she’ll not give a hint of her grade, except to say it wasn’t good. It was terrific!

She’s happy to know Dart plans to write to Ronnie Coleman and Van Johnson. She simply asks that he make it a gentle note to let them down easy. She hates to think how heart-broken they will be to learn she has thrown them over for a sailor.

There was more discussion about the New York Spaghetti House in Cleveland, and other such dives. She tells Dart she also likes to observe people. When she’s waiting for a train in Grand Central Station, she likes to watch the passersby and imagine their pasts and their futures.

Referring to his request to use some of the witty lines from her letters in ones that he writes to others, she quips “Due to the fact that Washington, DC is very busy right now, I have not, as yet, been able to get my humor (?) copywrited (sic) or patented, so I guess there is nothing stopping you from using it. (I’m quite flattered.)”

She’s looking forward to a call from her friend Cynthia from Greenwich. Cynthia’s father has just driven her out to bring her to Oberlin College to study music.

She fills up the final page with a drawing of Bugs Bunny – a favorite character around her house.