Dart starts off answering the multiple letters he received from Dot, written while she was in Kent. He asks her about the little arrow she drew after the shorthand symbol at the end of one of her letters. Later in this letter, the light dawns on Dart and he realizes the arrow is her “shorthand” for his name!

He is perplexed by her latest initial code of I.L.Y.D.M.T.Y.E.K. He hopes it’s something nice, but he suspects it’s one of those slogans. I wonder if we’ll ever know.

He talks about listening to the Hour of Charm radio program on Sunday nights in Cleveland and mentions some of the great songs they played. “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” “Stardust,” and “Lover Come Back to Me” were some of his favorites. He used to love to sing those particular tunes in the Shaw High School choir.

He commented that his mother was delighted to get a letter from Dot and that he’s glad Dot doesn’t smoke. To her earlier comment that boys never look at her, he responded, “I don’t understand why boys don’t look. The minute I saw you the first time, I murmured ‘I hope she’s my date.'”

He told her how much he enjoyed her letters and how much her liked her. The last thing he would want is for either of them to get tired of each other before they had a chance to see each other again. He reluctantly suggested that maybe they should just write two or three times a week and see how that went. (Spoiler alert! It never really happened that way – neither could break their writing habit!) He says he has no need to, or intention of looking at another girl until he can see her again.

Another positive, funny and chatty letter from Dot in response to two letters from Dart. She enjoyed his story about the “sick bay shuffle.” And, she was tickled with his offer of a roll of film that he claimed was hanging around at his parent’s house with no one to use it. (I think he was probably hoping he could get some pictures of her if he provided the film.) It’s so hard to imagine a time when lack of film was a serious impediment to photography. I wonder if she had trouble getting her hands on some because it was so expensive, or was that another of the many shortages created by the war effort?

In an earlier letter, Dot had used the line, “Boy, you sure do get around! In fact, your picture is sitting on a bedside table in Kent, Ohio right this minute.” Apparently Dart took her comment to mean that a mutual acquaintance had been telling stories about Dart’s dating history. Dot assured him that she had heard no such stories, but she had noticed that he knew every girl they saw on their one date in Cleveland. Still, she told him that she has no objections to who he sees, writes to or talks to. This open and magnanimous attitude carried all the way through to Dot’s maternal advice to me during my dating years. She always believed there was no point in feeling jealous – it was a complete waste of energy. You either trusted the person you were with, or you didn’t. If it was the latter, why be in a relationship with them?

She thanked Dart for the complement of saying she was as mature as any 19-year old he know. She reminded him that her teachers and headmaster might dispute that theory. Case in point; the “roof” incident which had nearly gotten her expelled last year because she acted like such a child.

She’s in a Christmas frenzy, trying to get ready for her final exams and her visit home.  Finally, she wrote that in addition to the good grade on her chemistry test, she had received an “A” on her chemistry notebook. That fact seems to surprise her more than it does anyone who knows her.

She tells Dart his “shorthand” is getting much better and to keep up the good work.

Ah! Another cheerful letter from Dart. He teases Dot in the first paragraph by telling her there’s good news waiting at the end of the letter.

He is proud of her chemistry grade and says he had more faith in her than she did in herself. I think that’ll become a common theme between these two. He wishes her a speedy recovery from the cold and hopes the Andrews School’s cold epidemic does not become like the flu epidemic that has Chicago in it’s grips.

Referring to the wedding cake/dream story she told, he says, “Fine thing – drawing a blank on the night you should dream (of me?) Whatever you do, don’t dream of wishing to be an old maid. That’s a terrible thing for a pretty girl like you to think. I don’t have much desire to be a bachelor, but several people have predicted I’ll be one.”

Eventually, he gets to his good news. The doctor, still unsure of whether or not he’ll need more surgery, nonetheless gave him permission today to get up for a few minutes. “Boy, people are shaky after 20 days in bed!” Can you imagine anything short of a deep vegetative state that would keep any patient in bed for that long these days? They have today’s patients up and walking mere hours after joint replacement or heart surgery. No lolligagging around in the sack for modern man!

Take a look at the cute illustrations on the top of her new stationary and the captions Dot adds. She senses Dart’s not feeling well and promises to keep up her prayers for his recovery for as long as necessary.

She received her train tickets for her Christmas trip to Connecticut and is counting down the days (20). She thanks Dart for the snapshot he sent – the one where he looks so tall – and says she hopes that is  not the last one she’ll receive.  And she tells about a two-hour exam she took today – a test required for anyone wanting to attend Ohio State. She ends that piece with a typically dismissive, “Oh well, I didn’t want to got to Ohio State anyway.”

The juiciest news in this letter is the part about her recent dream – with the wedding cake still under her pillow. Her good friend Columbia told her she was definitely dreaming about Dart. I’ll let you read the letter and decide for yourself. I’m happy to say that Dot and Columbia are still close friends today.

She talks a little about her roommate Andy and, again cautions Dart not to write unless he feels up to it. As much as she likes his letters, she wants him to recover so she might get to see him sooner.

She signs off after an intriguing final paragraph. “Having a very dull time – wish you were here to brighten it up a bit. Say, remind me to tell you something in about 6 years. You’ll die laughing.”

Here’s a rather graphic description of Dart’s most recent days in his recovery from the surgery. The details he shares attest to a different level of intimacy he feels toward Dot than just the average romantic kind.

He also talks about his former social life – lots of first dates and plenty of hanging out with the boys. He reveals himself to be quite a straight arrow (a result of being named “Dart?”) when it comes to drinking, smoking and “raising h—.” That fits the Dart I knew in later years, but there was nothing straight arrow about his sense of humor. He loved limericks – the bawdier, the better.

He signs off after six pages because of a tall stack of “fan mail” awaiting his attention. His P. S. is a line of shorthand symbols for “I love you” which he claims to practice on everything-except letters to other people.

Dot’s hurried letter begins on Friday, and finishes on Sunday morning. In between, she was working her feet off as a sales clerk in a retail store as temporary Christmas help.

After a crack Dart had made about how nice it must be to have a “charge account” at the Andrew store, she sets the record straight. She charges things she needs and then pays them off herself as she earns money. She’s not one of the girls who makes Mommy and Daddy cover her bills.

She refuses Dart’s plea to translate the long initial code from a few letters back. Again, she promises to tell him what they mean in six year, saying “Jeepers – I hope I still know you in six years!” No worries there, Dottie!

In Dart’s letter today, he reminds Dot that she has not sent him her Greenwich address where he can write to her over the Christmas break. It has become a more pressing issue now because he received a lovely note from her mother and he would like to answer it as soon as possible. I guess this was decades before those little self-stick address labels became ubiquitous – mailed to every American home by all those charities seeking money.

It was another red letter day in Dart’s recovery. He asked for and received permission to put on his regular clothes long enough to go out into the hallway and call his parents. This strikes me as quaint in two ways: one, that he had to put on clothes in an all-male military hospital, rather than just his skivvies or a robe – how formal! The other is that the only available phone was out in the corridor, not in his pocket!

Anyway, he was so happy to hear his parents’ voices after four weeks away from home. (It seems like so much longer!) They told him they were hoping to come see him on Dec. 18. He expressed concern that there would be a hotel available for them in Chicago at that time of year. Although he’d rather be in Willoughby, escorting Dot to her formal on that day, since that was not possible, he would be thrilled to see his folks.

He asks Dot if she had been able to read the tiny writing at the bottom of his previous letter (the charming declaration of love), and suggested she might consider the diminutive words to be whispering. Awww!

Finally, he posed the question any reasonable person would: Why wait six  years to tell him the meaning of her earlier coded message? Signing off with love, he added a teeny pencil drawing, which I’ll let the reader enjoy without comment from me.

Dot’s letter begins by describing a magnificent dinner the girls had in the dining hall that evening. I’ve noticed when either of them talks about food, they are especially excited by having butter. It’s hard to imagine what it was about butter than made it so scarce during the war years, but it was obviously missed.

She tells that her friend Nancy has fallen prey to the cold that’s been burning through the house. Then she tells about an impromptu trip to Cleveland with the aunt of one of the other girls. While there, Dot gathered her courage and called Dart’s parents, Dart, Sr. and Helen Peterson. She was astounded how similar father and son sound. She rejoiced in the news that Dart had just called his parents and had been dressed for the first time in weeks. Dot said that she had been nervous to call, but Dart’s mother was so sweet that it felt like she was talking to an old friend.

At a house meeting that night, it was announced that all 36 girls in the class were expected to attend the formal on Dec. 18, even though only six of them had dates. Apparently, men were as scarce as butter these days. Dot dreaded the thought of going without Dart, and predicted she would be very sick when that night came!

Dot confesses to Dart that she thinks of him, and only him, constantly.

Dart was very chipper in this letter – undoubtedly because he had two letters and a card from Dot.

His real news is that whoever sewed him up after his surgery made a total botch of the job and he now must have at least one more operation to try to fix the damage. Yuck! I guess there’s no such thing as a malpractice suit against a military surgeon.

He drew a thermometer in the margin of his letter to illustrate how hot and bothered he is by that long string of initials that Dot will not decode for six years.  Said Dart, “I hope you don’t think I need that much incentive to keep track of you for six years. I hope we’ll know each other very well by then.”

He was so happy to hear that Dot had called his parents. He was sure they must have liked her, although their letter from that day was postmarked before she called them, so there was no mention of her call.

He was over the moon with pride and excitement when he heard a recording of his high school choir’s over a Chicago radio station. (His was one of the voices being aired.) He says they sounded very good over the radio. I confess to being a little surprised that he was part of a quality chorus. The singing voice I recall emanating from Dad was quite good…at the one note he could carry!

He urged Dot to have a great time at her dance on the 18th and reiterated that he would be thinking of her. Indeed, he tells her every move he makes is done for her. What a sweet thing to say!

Dot is pleased that Dart likes reading her letters. She says it gives her the incentive she needs to keep writing. She mentions a card she sent him that could never say what she really feels. “As a matter of fact, I can’t even say what I feel. I’ll have to get used to the idea and then maybe I can tell you.

She chats about her pending trip home, the most recent snapshot she received from Dart (which, of course doesn’t do him justice) and her portrait proofs she expects to receive soon (which, of course will be too horrible to look at).

Referring to Dart’s theory that he grew an inch or more while in bed, Dot says she’ll be hibernating soon, because she’s only 5′ 6.5″ and would like to be taller.

She vows no more shorthand. From now on, anything she has to say she’ll say in plain English (once she gets used to the idea.) Here, she also makes a reference to the final paragraph of his latest letter – the one where he says straight out for the very first time that her loves her. “The last crowded paragraph was the best I’ve ever read. Boy! That’s just what a girl needs to pep her up.”

She is very happy that his parents are planning to go to Chicago and is confident they will find a room because their mission is so important that the city will find space for them.

She ends with a silly little joke about a gremlin in the “icebox.” Now, that’s a word you don’t hear every day anymore.

A short, jaunty letter from Dart starts with his enthusiastic critique of Spike Jones’ “Volga Boatman.” He then draws Dot’s attention to the new stationery he bought in the hospital canteen while he was dressed in his uniform and allowed to walk around. He explains that he is writing small because this paper “costs like a black market steak.”

His mother was most enthusiastic about the “sweet young voice” who called yesterday, and he is most enthusiastic that the two women in his life seem to like each other.

In sympathy with Dot over her play-writing assignment, Dart tells an embarrassing tale on himself about his one and only attempt to do the same.

He asks Dot what the meaning of the additional symbol she has added to her usual shorthand closing. He’s too embarrassed to keep asking the nurse. To show that two can play at the “coded message” game, he signs off in Spanish.

This is an uncharacteristically gloomy letter from young Dot. She’s snappish and surly and, admittedly in need of a vacation.

Near the end of page 1, she quips “I haven’t the vaguest idea what I’m going to write about, but I’ll make an attempt at something. For further information, see page 2.”

Page 2 is not a huge improvement. She writes that she has always wanted to be in the Christmas play at Andrews. Even though she claims to have no talent whatsoever, she thought that being in the play would be fun. Housemother Mrs. Wall, who is no fan of Dot’s, has decided once again that Dot will not have fun on her watch!

Dot mentions that nearly half the dorm left tonight to attend a 40-hour devotion at the Catholic Church. She wishes she could have gone because it would have probably improved her spirits.

Her next complaint is about the spring-like weather of this state called Ohio.  “When it comes to winter, I’ll take one of the good ol’ New England states. At least you can tell the seasons there.”

Having resorted to talking about the weather, she decides to end this “sour-puss” letter, assuring Dart that her mood in no way changes how she feels about him.

This is another brief one from Dart, who doesn’t seem to have too much to say. Still, it’s nice he keeps his streak alive.

He has a new pen from his aunt but prefers his old pen. He guesses which train Dot will take to NYC (Pacemaker or the Southwestern Limited).  He hopes her pictures do her justice and he thinks 5′ 6.5″ is just fine for a girl. He asks that she “go easy” on any new shorthand lest he get strange looks for the  nurses who translate for him.

Big news flash: He dreams of the day they can be together and he can say all the things he is thinking about. Hint: They’re all about her.

Dot’s letter starts by saying that she was still feeling low until she saw his familiar handwriting on a letter. That’s all she needs to cure whatever ails her.

She is distressed that he must undergo another operation to correct the butcher job his surgeon made of the first. She theorizes that the mistake was made intentionally because everyone at the hospital likes him so much they wanted to be sure to keep him around awhile.

She goes into great detail in answer to his question about where she was on Saturday. She works at Wright’s department store in Willoughby, where from 9 a.m. until 6 p.m. she makes $3.50. That’s not per hour, that’s per day!

She hopes the mail will work smoothly enough when she gets her portrait proofs that he’ll get his copy by Christmas or a little bit after.

She wishes she had heard the Shaw choir singing on the radio. Her classmates tell her that choir is quite good, and she thinks she could use a little more culture.

She’s still not looking forward to attending her school dance, but she’ll try to be happy. With school going along as normal, she doesn’t have any more news. The page ends with Dot mentioning that she thinks Dart is a nice guy. Because it ends rather abruptly and with no signature, I suspect there may have been another page to this letter, but it is lost to the ages, I fear.