Dart expects that his recent slack in homework is about to change. Now he wishes he’d done a little more writing for his prose and journalism classes while he had the time. He’s also trying to work something up as a submission to Skyline.

John and Sally Angel were in town for the holiday and Dart had a chance to talk with them today. They’re both going to Ohio U. where John is struggling with his classes. Dart didn’t want to make him feel bad, so he talked about his struggles with his industry class, and then just said he couldn’t complain too much about the others.

After the first November in recorded history with no official snowfall, Cleveland made  up for it today. At first the snow melted as it struck the pavement, but a rapid 20 degree drop in the temperature caused instant and wide spread havoc around the city. Dart had to make three trips out in that mess with the Plain Dealer cars, but was lucky enough – or careful enough- not to get stuck on the ice.

Today in church, Mr. Kershner asked if Dart was giving Dot his regards regularly. Dart thought of her especially during Communion this morning, and at the time of her choral concert later in the day. He hopes the concert went well, after all that hard work.

Having come to the end of the page, he writes “No more news, or time, or room, but all the love in the world!”

It’s 2:00 AM and I’ve just completed a bout with the sordid writings of William Cullen Bryant, developing a hearty dislike for him in the process. Be it treason, blasphemy. heresy or just plain ungratefulness, I DON’T like Bryant!

Already I’ve written five lines more than I thought I’d write. I had your letters from the 28th and 29th today. Seeing that you were able to write the next day, I see that nobody stuck you with a pin to make you POP on Thanksgiving.

I wouldn’t care very much how cold it was on the outside, if I could share the inside of a set of sheets with you. Gee, you make me sick. HOMEsick, that is., with your offer of ‘What are we waiting for?’  Just between us, I wish it were nothing …nothing we’re waiting for, and nothing between us but a few molecules of perspiration.

The previous was the entire content of the first letter Dart wrote to Dot today. What follows is the second letter he wrote.

Dot, it’s 3:00 AM now and I just can’t go to bed without saying some more to you. It’s like the night when I wanted you to go up to bed, yet didn’t want you to go. We both knew what would happen if you stayed yet you did stay, because you wanted the same lovely, happy moments that I did. I love you for everything you are, Dot. I miss caressing and kissing you. I miss your caresses and kisses. I miss lying with you, locked in each others arms, lips locked together, breathing in unison. It seems when we do that and exchange those endearing caresses and the enduring privilege of caressing each other, that we need to go no further to achieve our complete happiness; yet, at the same time there is the almost unstoppable yearning for a complete union, our mating, the consummation of those marriage vows we repeated to each other one night. Oh , Darling, I live for the time when we can say those words for the world, then go forth to the beginning of our life together. There is no greater happiness for a young fellow than to have the faith I have in you and the surety of your faith in me; and the feeling that when we go to bed together for the first time, there has never been, now can ever be, another for either of us. I love you, Dot – forever.

Three sentences from Dart:

Don’t say I didn’t warn you there’d be days like this. This is what i get for thinking about you instead of working. I love you very much.

A bit longer than yesterday’s letter, Dart’s offering today fills nearly a whole page.

Again I must write a short letter when I feel the need for a long one. Sleep is necessary, too, I find.

Yes, let’s choose Candlelight for our pattern.

What’s this about two and a half months?! Is there something I should know? Are you planning to come to the Alumnae Banquet? I’m all excited. I love you

You own sweetheart, Dart

P.S. I’m glad the concert was so good.

P.P.S. Checks from Pee Dee and USA came today. I’m lousy with wealth.

There’s no letter for Dart today from his favorite girl. He suspects he knows the reason, and he hopes she wasn’t feeling too terrible. If it hadn’t been bad, though, he’s confident she would have written. He wishes he could have been there to comfort her.

“I’m dead tired from staying up so late so much of this week. The work’s been pretty rough, and there’s no sign of a let-up. Tests in industry, Spanish, and literature within two weeks, plus prose workshop stuff and Skyline. Also some work to do for journalism. All that, and I still haven’t even accumulated my list of Christmas card addresses.”

He spent Monday evening putting the green chariot to bed for the winter. He drained the radiator so it wouldn’t freeze when the temperature drops. Now it must remain in the garage until it’s warm enough to get the old gal to the shop and have it winterized, if they plan to use it soon. If the family decides not to sell her, Dart hopes to put the heater in working order sometime.

He has lost several address that Dot has sent for Greenwich-based family and friends. He hopes she’ll send them along again, but he knows he has a lot of nerve asking her because he’s kept her waiting so long for an address she requested from him. He says she’d have every right to become a nagging wife, but her certainly hopes she doesn’t. (It seems that some men miss the obvious path to avoid having a nagging wife, and that’s to respond to her reasonable requests in a reasonable amount of time.)

The same procrastination that Dart’s shown regarding getting an address for Dot is filtering into the matter of groomsmen, too. He still hasn’t taken the time to call Tom to ask if he can be in the wedding. Speaking of which, if June 19th is an option for the big event, that would work out better for Burke, but might preclude Homer. He says again that he’ll have to get around to asking Tom.

“Mother met a girl, working at Singer, who knows you from Andrews. Her name’s Helen Veck. She says she ‘gets the biggest kick out of you.’ You’re a mighty pop’lar young lady, Dot. Mom seems to be catching on to her new job alright.”

In prose workshop, he received a B for his “Iron Hobby Horse” piece. He still thinks that with a little work, it could be an article for Model Railroader.

At this point in the letter, he draws a red line and the caption “Don’t bother reading from here on. ‘Taint wuth it.” The next five pages contain a rant on the current state of affairs in America. He really gets going, and so much of what he wrote way back in 1946 seems apropos today. I’ll try to capture the gist of it with a sampling of quotes.

There is most surely a revolution in progress in the USA. If it succeeds we run the risk if going the way of all once-great nations whose personal moral standards fell so low that they were reflected in their government.

I’m sorry to see stupidity and cupidity and laxity and outright contempt for truth and justice becoming a force in America.

…we have arrived at the same state from which we so ‘kindly’ liberated Europe. …today one man can imperil the health and the economy of our nation, by his defiance of anyone but himself.

The great, exalted intelligence of the public has been diluted and deluded and preyed upon by these little Hitlers until it is hopeless to combat them.

Such is the story of all who get to big for their hats and pants. Greece and Rome fell to indolence, barbarity, and bickering about who should get the lion’s share of the wealth.

Maybe the Russian papers were right. Maybe the recent election didn’t reflect the true wish of the people. It is true if what appears about our national thought turns out to be true: We have no national thought.

We have become a nation of wolves, damning all but ourselves. We damn each other or each other’s color or facial features, or wealth, honesty, religion or education.

The collective mind of a free people has been duped! We place a premium on mediocrity. Ignorance, prejudice, and hatred have been capitalized, until they rule in the place of justice, freedom, and a desire to do right by everyone.

He never mentions names or political parties. I’m struck, of course, by how most of these thoughts would ring true for many Americans today. In a way, I also take comfort in knowing that we have suffered previous crises as a nation, and still, we’re here.

Dart closes with a sinister “Yours forever (or until the Commissar of Procreation and Race Purification says differently)”

His PS says that if that should happen, he’ll still always be hers, and hers alone.

Dart’s in another “talkative” mood tonight, once again writing an eight-page letter to Dot. He’s full of news from his Skyline editorial meeting tonight.

He submitted a free verse poem for publication in the magazine. It was read anonymously and rejected just as anonymously. It was a poem he’d written her from Norfolk which he’d edited some. “… but I forgot to shorten it. Seems like everything I write turns out to be too long.” This poem, while received favorably, was deemed ‘too long in the middle.’ It also “clashes” with another poem that had already been accepted for publication in the upcoming issue.

“There are lots of angles to consider in this kind of work. Personal prejudices and interests in technique, subject matter, and form must be weighed against personal reactions to individual pieces. One person might like a poem because of his views on technique; it might be a perfectly done sonnet, excellent in all points, but that one opinion must be a pretty strong one if the other editors aren’t ‘moved’ by the poem. Conversely, a few excellent ideas are rejected because they are so technically imperfect that we feel there is no hope for them.”

He enjoys this work very much and he’d like to continue with it. He shares his concern with Dot that his propensity for changing his mind about things might eventually lead to him not liking the Skyline work, but he hopes that doesn’t happen.

He describes the staff as a cosmopolitan bunch; a musician, an artist, several published poets, and several novices in the game of literary editing. Many are married. One man was born in Czechoslovakia.

It is customary for the group to stop by the Gazelle restaurant after meetings to share a “Dutch treat” dinner and continue their informal conversations. He tagged along tonight and had a nice time, all the while wishing Dot could be there with him.

Today, Dart bought a pair of ear muffs because hats give him headaches. He also deposited a dollar in their penny account, bringing the total to $48.00.

One of the editors he met tonight is “an apparatus man” with Ohio Bell. He claims its an interesting job, taking care of millions of little “apparatuses.” He also reports that the telephone company is a good company to work for.

In answer to Dot’s question, he certainly does remember when she said he’d never see her with her hair in curlers, nor in a bathing suit. She was wrong on both counts. Does she remember the night he kissed her in the kitchen at Lake Sunapee? Her hair was in curlers, the light was on, and he wasn’t scared off. “Why do you think you’ll scare me off? Darling, I don’t think anything about you will scare me away.”

These memories launch Dart on a very amorous few pages that are so intimate that I dare not discuss them here. The gist of it is, he’s grateful that they are able to talk about  the most intimate things together. He’s so glad that she enjoys their intimacies and is as eager as he is to expand upon their shared experiences in that area of their life. “Oh Dot, I’m so glad you want * and !, and are so wonderfully straight forward about it. It’s healthy to feel that way, and to recognize it. And boy, am I healthy!”

Dart is on a writing spree this week; he had back-to-back eight page letters, followed by this seven-pager tonight. I expected that he might make a reference to the 5th anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack that changed the fate of this country and the world, but he didn’t mention it. These two kids have certainly seen a lot of changes in their own lives in the past 5 years.

It was a very busy night at the PD, in spite of the fact that the two big news stories broke early enough to be covered in the afternoon edition. Still there was lots of follow-up news.

“We got some of the most gruesome, sordid pictures anyone could imagine. Of course, the Plain Dealer, not having to resort to yellow journalism for its circulation, does not print the worst of the pictures or stories. It’s a very conservative newspaper.”

He tells Dot that the horror of the hotel fire in Atlanta completely obscured the story of the coal strike settlement. He was surprised and pleased to see the city was lit again when he went out for dinner tonight. He also enjoyed seeing the bright moon while he was out, and the people walking around downtown in shirt sleeves. It’s a rare December in Ohio.

In response to her most recent letter, he asks how he can tell her how sorry he is that she must endure such torture each month without sounding as though he’s patronizing her. “You’re too sweet and wonderful to deserve such treatment. Naturally, I don’t know anything about what it’s like to go through year after year of painful functioning like that, but I know that it must surely be an awful thing , if it causes you to lose consciousness. Oh, Dottie, I wish I could be near when you call out to me like that.”

As in previous letters, Dart spends several pages discussing a matter of extreme delicacy. This time, it was in response to something Dot recalled – apparently an incident at Sunapee when she was eager and willing to go beyond the boundaries they had set for themselves, but he refused. He talked about how fortunate they have each been able to “take turns” at being the strong one when passions exploded. Contrary to thinking less of her for her impulse that night, he thinks it’s a good sign that they both want the same thing – when the time is right. He knows they’ll have a happy and satisfying life together after they’re married, and he’s confident that if they have times where one of them is not satisfied, they will have the trust necessary to talk it over, get help, and find a solution.

She revealed to him that she was working on a secret project that involves their life as Mr. and Mrs. next fall. Naturally, Dart is quite curious about this secret and probed for more details.

To wrap things up, he assures her that he will welcome her help with his homework. He also asks her how much money he should count on for their honeymoon week at Sunapee in June. He wants to make sure he’s budgeted for rent, food, and whatever costs there may be.

“Good night, Darling. There is little new I can say to express my love for you.”

Dart has a little fun on the first page of this brief letter; he writes in kind of broken English, written phonetically in an Eastern European accent. He chatters on about the wasted full moon; better they should stop them from coming around for the next six months so that he and Dot can enjoy a week of full moons on their honeymoon. Then he says he must stop this nonsense, answer her letter, and get back to work.

He was glad to read about the swell time Dougie had at his birthday party. He likes her new stationery. Did she get a new pen, too, or just a new point for the old one?

How he wishes they could be together for Christmas, and from then on, for that matter!

He’d like to write another long, intimate letter, but if he doesn’t get his Spanish and journalism work done by sun-up, she won’t love him anymore.

“I miss you always.”

Dart thought he’d hit the jackpot today when he got two letters from Dot, but they were both so brief that he felt a little cheated. Having said that, he warns her that this letter from him will be confined to a single page because he must try to get some sleep sometime this week.

Today he picked up his new trousers and the enlargements he had made for her parents’ Christmas present. When he got home he took a nap and his mother found it nearly impossible to wake him at suppertime.

Then he read 20 pages of Ralph Waldo Emerson poems before sitting with his dad to discuss plans for finishing the third floor for their apartment. Does she have any ideas she’d like him to include?

He feels a cold coming on – probably due to the 60 degree temperature outside. He’ll take a hot bath and a bit of quick sleep before the new day dawns.

Dart is “miserable with two kinds of sickness. One is the ‘I miss you’ kind, and the other is the family sore throat and indigestion.”

He accuses Dot of being a Christmas tease. Her package arrived today with the warning “Don’t dare open it ’til Christmas,” and here it is, still two weeks from Christmas! What’s a poor fella to do?

He finally sends her the two addresses she’s been wanting for her card list and then tells her he must sleep in order to beat his cold.

He says he’d love to tell her how much he loves her, but it’s beyond telling.