Category Archives: 33. June 1946

June 1, 1946

33. June 1946, Dart's Letters, Dot's Letters

Dart warns that today’s letter will be short. It seems the weather has turned cold, and since his window was open all day, his room is quite chilly and he must soon crawl into his bed to try to warm the sheets. Tonight, more than usual, he wishes Dot were with him to help with that task.

A good letter from Burke came today, but he still has no word on when he’ll be coming home. Meanwhile, Dart awoke to turmoil in the house as his parents really set about polishing, waxing, scrubbing and dusting, in preparation for the Chamberlain’s visit. It was only after they were done that Dot called to say they weren’t coming after all. More on that later.

Because of his help early in the day, Dart earned the evening off, so he spent it at Homer’s, helping him with his railroad-to-be. Dart fervently hopes Homer will return the favor in the near future.

It was while he was at Homer’s that Dot called. How sorry he was to learned that he’d missed hearing her voice. But more than that, he knows how terribly disappointed she  must be that her parents have opted not to come. Perhaps now she’ll decide to spend her vacation in Cleveland with him, before he starts classes.

“My writing’s been getting smaller so I’d have enough room on the page to say I love you. But all I can do is say it, without any demonstration of how, or how much.”

#          #          #

Dot’s letter is written on some classy new Kent State stationery. She bought it, along with some shoes, socks and school supplies today. The supplies are for her six-week session later this summer.

It took an hour and a half of coaxing by her housemates for her to get the courage to call Dart tonight. She was feeling as blue as her new paper and thought that hearing his voice might be just the ticket to cheer her up. Even though she wasn’t able to talk with him, the call had the desired effect because she had a lovely chat with his mother.

News from the house is that Al sent Phyll a beautiful corsage of three gardenias. Sadly, Phyll had just left town for the weekend, so she’ll miss the opportunity to wear it to church on Sunday. It appears as if things are moving forward for those two.

Dot didn’t work today and won’t tomorrow because she has too much reading and studying to do. For some reason, there was no letter from Dart today, even though his mother mailed one yesterday. That means she may get two or three on Monday. Considering that’s the day of her physical science exam, she says she’ll need all the morale builders she can muster.

“Could it be that it’s been only a week since you were here? It seems more like a month. I’ve missed you terribly, Dart. My heart begins to throb whenever I think about how much I love you and want to show it.”

June 2, 1946

33. June 1946, Dart's Letters

Al called Dart tonight to invite him to ride along when he drives out to Kent on Monday. Dart’s eager to see Dot any time he can.

How he hopes she’ll spend most, if not all of her school vacation with him. He wants to go on several picnics and maybe hit a few tennis balls around.

“This afternoon I walked up in Forest Hills Park, the half you haven’t seen yet. The day was clear, the sun was bright and warm, and the breeze was as fresh and brisk as the famous San Francisco summer zephyrs. Had to keep moving, fast in shade, and slow in sun, to be comfortable in my shirtsleeves. (The rest of the shirt, too, of course.) There are some swell places to roast weenies or do whatever cooking might be necessary for the preparation of lunch. Bacon’s usually plentiful, so we could have bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches, if we could get the bread.” (Still food shortages?!)

He went walking because he was lonely. Even though she was with him in spirit, he missed the rest of her. But he was able to scout the park and learn that a weekday morning was a good time to find an empty tennis court.

The summer Pops series begins next Sunday and he’d like for them to see as many concerts together as possible. Until tomorrow, he bids her good night.

June 3, 1946

33. June 1946, Dart's Letters, Dot's Letters

“My Darling,

My room’s cold again, and I’m ready to hit the sack, so I’ll just make this one of the shortest letters on record. I don’t feel right unless I write to you tonight. Can’t go to bed without saying good night to you. Gee, this evening was swell. I love every lovely minute of loving I spend with you. Good night, Dot. Wish you were here. I love you always.”

#          #          #

“I’m far too much in love to go to bed without letting you in on at least a little bit of it. It’s all yours but I doubt if you could hold it all at once. Remember, Dart, it’s always there, and will continue to be there as long as you need and want it.”

“Gee, I’m glad you came down tonight. It was so much fun walking, laughing, talking, and just being with you for the sheer joy of it. My whole life is spent living for the time, no matter how short, that we can be together, and I am ever-anticipating our life together in the not-too-distant future. As I see it, it will be nothing short of perfection.”

She was pleased to read in one of  his letters today that he wants to work with her on dishes and anything other task he has. She’s working on her typing so she can work for him. She pretends she is a secretary in love with her boss, and she imagines how much fun it will be that the boss is also in love with his secretary! She even looks forward to helping him work on his railroad.

She wrote to El today to thank her for agreeing to spend her vacation as their chaperone at Sunapee in September. She’s so lucky to have a sister like El, and she only hopes that someday soon, the world will reward El for her kindness to so many people.

“Thank you for coming down tonight, and for loving me, and for wanting me to be your wife – the highest honor in the world.”

June 4, 1946

33. June 1946, Dart's Letters, Dot's Letters

Although Dart got no letters from Dot today, he still loves her and he’s happy to know she’d only neglect him to do something important, like school work.

Dart must write to Burke today to tell him the scoop on his (Burke’s) acceptance into the University of Chicago. It seems he, with no college credit to his name, will enter U of C as a third year student, due to their new system. “The boy seems to have the luck of the Irish.”

Dart is distressed that $4.45 of the $20 he withdrew last week is already gone. He found out at the VA today that he could pay his insurance premium in cash, and a payment was due, so he paid it.  He has all the documentation he needs to register for classes on June 10, but he wants to get there as early as possible that day to give himself the best shot at decent classes.

“I miss you, Dot. I enjoyed being with you last night. I keep dreaming of our walk, and of the minutes we spent together in the shade of that big tree on the lawn. Gee, it was swell being with you again, hearing you talk and laugh; looking into your eyes; holding you close and feeling the warm closeness of our bodies. I’m sad because we can’t be married this month. I’m so overwhelmed with emotion for you, Dot, that I can’t write anymore.”

#          #          #

Dot has time for a quick postcard.

“Aunt Marjorie’s letter arrived this morning. Here’s the set-up: She and Uncle Paul have asked me to come on the 13th, Thursday. I’ll take the Empire State to Erie, where she’ll meet me and take me to their house in the country. I told her I must plan on coming back on Sunday sometime. Last night sort of took the edge off my enthusiasm to see Aunt Marj, but I still think I ought to go. Will answer your letter tonight.”

June 5, 1946

33. June 1946, Dart's Letters

Dart has just returned from the wedding reception for Al Frobush’s sister, Evelyn. He hasn’t even stopped to change out of his fancy duds before he starts to write to Dot.

Unless he hears otherwise, he’ll be at her house around 7:00 PM on Friday to help her pack up her things. He reminds her to bring her tennis racquet so they can hit a few balls during her time in Cleveland. He predicts it’ll be too cold for swimming while she’s with him, according to the weather forecasts. “Just goes to prove the old saying that Ohio has only two seasons: winter and August. (More fodder for your cannon which you keep aimed at our fair state.)”

If she hasn’t already reserved her seat to Erie, they can do that from the East Cleveland station when she gets here. Then he asks what day she needs to go back and says he hopes he’ll be able to accompany her and help her get established. I’m a little confused about all this: Is he asking when she returns to Kent for summer session? Or is he hoping to return to Greenwich with her? I trust all will be made clear in future letters.

He can’t wait until they’re living together in a more permanent situation, without her having to change addresses so often. The newlywed couple whose wedding he attended today are starting their life together with more handicaps than he and Dot will have. They’re living in a tiny little room and the groom has to complete some high school classes this summer! He remarks about how happy they looked, though. Dart predicts that at their own wedding, once they get past the nerves, they’ll be the happiest looking couple anyone has ever seen.

The topic of happiness brings him to an observation he’s made recently. Has she ever noticed that when they’re together and talking about how happy they are, it’s not a “momentary, singing, heel-clicking, kind of happiness” they mention? “Usually, it’s the kind of happy awareness that comes from anticipating a wonderful gift, or from a sureness that each of us is satisfied beyond the fondest hopes of our respective dreams. It’s not the fleeting happiness of good humor over a soon-to-be-forgotten bit of chance.  It’s a happiness that’s true through good humor and bad, through all waking hours and many sleeping ones. It’s a sober kind of happiness that comes from being sure of many things. We always state our happiness at being in love, or being engaged, in sober sentences. They come from the heart, the mind, and the emotions, Dear. I hope we’ll  always be happy like that, as well as happy in the other way. One goes with the other, when we are together.”

He remarks that this could be the last letter for a while, and the last long letter for a long time. Once he’s started classes, he still hopes he’ll take the time to write long ones, because he’ll be missing her so much.

Dot had expressed some concern over El being their designated chaperone at Sunapee in September because she thought the protocol was that the chaperone was to be married. (Does anyone still talk this way in the 21st century?) Dart assures her that if Ruth Chamberlain approves of an unmarried woman as a chaperone, then he’s certain it’s quite on the up and up. He reminds her, though, that they will have to chaperone themselves. “If we can control ourselves, we don’t need one; and if we can’t, we’d find means to get around all the chaperoning a dozen 63-year-old busybodies could lay onto us. A chaperone is necessary for appearances, of course.”

Once again he talks about a line they nearly crossed the last time they were together. They have found their limit to be much more restrictive than they had hoped, but Dart holds himself responsible and will need to exert greater effort if they are to avoid taking the next step. He hints there is something they need to discuss – that he wants to make clear, but which is too delicate to be discussed in a letter.

In her letter she accuses Dart of overestimating her, which only serves to prove that he loves her. He has noticed the same thing in her, about him. He knows she has faults, but he wouldn’t love her as much if she didn’t. Although it’s likely that some disillusionment will come for both of them when they’re married, he thinks they should set a goal of trying not to disillusion each other. “So those things which we observe in each other to be nearest our ideals are the things which bind us together in deep love for each other.”

He loved her letter from Monday night, including the promise of all her love for as long as he needs it and wants it. “You know how perishable promises of love are, Dot. For that reason, I’ve made few promises. But if I were in the habit of making promises, I’d give you every word I have that as long as you are affectionate, and crave affection; as long as you want and need my love; as long as I have love for anyone, you will be the object of it all. The time I have reserved for making promises is the time we shall be standing together, and I make a promise to you, to a minister, to the world, and to God that I intend to be your husband, and the good one that you deserve.”

He proclaims her Monday letter to be “wonderfully analytical, well stated and well founded.”  He adds that although she doesn’t write such things as often as he, when she does, she has something worthwhile to say and she says it well.

The letter ends with his prayer, “May God grant that we have the courage, the determination, the common sense, and the incalculable other things that help people in the lives together.”

June 6, 1946

33. June 1946, Dot's Letters

Yesterday, Dot went to Bill’s Diner at 5:00 in the morning to wake herself up for studying biology. She had so much fun that she convinced Janie and Erla to join her there this morning. The way Dot can find fun in almost any situation is one of her most endearing traits, if you ask me.

The bio exam yesterday was one of the most difficult she has ever taken, but she felt prepared for it, so she thinks she did alright. She still has a bio lab test to get through, but after that, her biology days are over forever!

The KSU president issued a decree today that there will be no classes excused on Friday. That means Dot will be busy from 8:00 until 4:00 with no time to pack up her room. Still, if the Peterson family car is still working, and if Mr. Peterson has no use for it in Friday night, she would sure appreciate Dart bringing it (and himself) to help her move out of the Olin’s house.

In a way, she wishes she and Dart would be going to the same school, but they’ll both probably do better with the current set-up. She dreads the thought of returning here in 10 days, but if she wants to finish school early, she must. She’ll be taking 8 hours during the summer session, including a methods class for the teaching of physical education, and an American lit class (pre-Civil War.) She knows she should be going to school for both summer sessions, but she simply couldn’t bear it.

She’s sorry all the efforts he and his folks put into the apartment were for naught. It must be nice to have everything all clean and fresh, but she’s disappointed that the reason for all that work doesn’t mean anything now.

She agrees with Dart’s plan to stay on a strict budget, and she hopes to do the same. She’s not sure she’ll stay at the Robin Hood much longer, though.

She’s hoping for sun tomorrow so she can air out his mother’s blanket and fluff it up before she gives it back. As she writes her last comments in tiny print in the side margin of the page, she tells Dart she wishes she could squeeze him as tightly as she’s squeezing in these words. How happy she’ll be to see him on Friday and have her freshman year behind her.

June 7, 1946 – From Ruth Chamberlain

33. June 1946, Dot's Letters

Today’s letter is written to Dart, from Ruth Chamberlain. Because there are so few letters written this month by Dot and Dart, I thought I’d interject a few from Dot’s mother. This one was written after Ruth had broken the news to her daughter that she would not be coming out to Ohio to take Dot back to Connecticut for her summer break.

My grandmother was a highly educated and quite literary woman, but she never mastered the art of penmanship. I will attempt to quote her letter verbatim here, but some words are indecipherable so I will guess at their meaning through the context of the letter.

All evening I’ve had the most overwhelming urge to call Dot and be assured that final exams hadn’t (done her in) altogether. And all evening I’ve been telling myself I was foolish to be concerned, knowing full well she is enough like me to have (undecipherable) directly it was all over and forget all about the agony until next time. So – since I’m disciplining myself by not calling, I will humor myself by writing to you so I can talk about her all I please without being thought a prejudiced parent.

First of all, congratulations on having been accepted at college. I sent that message before by Dot, but it bears repeating, for I really can imagine how (undecipherable) it must have made you to be “all set – and no place to go.” I’m delighted that you were given full credit for the college work already completed. When I was confronted by having to take another foreign language at Wellesley I elected German – and have always thought it was a great mistake. Of course, if your major were science, I suppose German might be helpful by the time you were working for a PhD, but I imagine Spanish would be a lot more fun in the taking. German grammar I found difficult – and the speech – ugly and dull. I never felt tempted to go beyond the one year required in that subject! Somehow I can picture you taking Philosophy. I loved it and found it the easiest subject to get A in that I ever met. History should be valuable to you as either teacher or journalist – and with your love of good music and interest in it, music appreciation should be so much “apple pie.”

We were dreadfully sorry not to be able to work in the trip to Ohio – but neither Dad nor Eleanor could take time off now – and there were many other reasons that pointed thumbs down. However we do all appreciate your cordial invitation to come to 12611 Superior Ave. and we’d like to take a rain check on that.

Dot has held out a hope that you’ll be coming to Greenwich between summer school and fall term and we’re already looking forward to that. Had you heard that Gordon and Betty moved out last Sunday since Gordon’s job was transferred to Middletown, Connecticut as of last Monday. They found an Inn that took transients and since then have lined up a sub-let on a furnished apartment from June 23 til Labor Day.

Poor Pegasus has been undergoing a major operation the past two weeks and I have been more or less thumbing my way back and forth to the Library. What dependence we put on these modern contraptions.

On June 16 we’re planning a Welcome Home Day for the veterans from North Hianus – the little community where the library is – so I expect to spend the coming week trying to collect enough food to feed 250 people. No, I’m not chairman of the affair, but I’m a helper – and I have a feeling it’s going to take a great deal of help.

This June 19th will be the first birthday in all her life that Dot has not been home to celebrate. If you’ve heard her speak of anything she’d especially like, do let me know for it will seem very strange to me to have such an important day come by with no chance to prepare a party or a surprise. (No fair saying she’d like to have me come to Ohio.)

If Dot is with you by the time this reaches you, give her my fondest love and tell her she’ll be hearing from me again soon.

My best wishes to your family and be sure to make them know how much we appreciate their proffered hospitality.

I’ll be very interested to know what courses you decide upon and how you like them.

June 13, 1946

33. June 1946, Dot's Letters

Dot types a one-page letter from her Aunt Marj’s country home outside Erie. She rode here from the station in a 1946 convertible and is now enchanted by this exquisite estate home. Floor to ceiling windows offer views of Canada on a clear day. It’s times like this that make her wish she had Dart’s knack for description, but this house must be seen to be believed.

She’ll be returning on Saturday instead of Sunday so that she can get back to Kent and have a chance to get settled for the grind that’s about to begin.

She misses Dart and sends her love.

June 18, 1946

33. June 1946, Dart's Letters

As Dart writes this, he imagines that Dot is on the train, somewhere east of Erie. He has found a barrette and some hatpins of hers in his room, which momentarily let him believe she was still with him.

He’s writing because he promised her he would, but he’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open.

He has a big idea, which he’ll probably scrap very soon, to write out a very strict schedule that he’ll try to adhere to. That’s a timely suggestion from  his new psychology professor.

That’s all he can manage for tonight, except “Good night again, my darling. My love for you is as endless as Ohio’s rain, and as happy as Ohio’s sunshine.”

I hope that as they get back into the pattern of regular correspondence, we’ll get some idea of what transpired during their time together. I admit to being confused. First, Dot’s mother had written that Dot would not be home for her birthday, yet she’s on an eastbound train the day before her birthday. Also, Dot was going to leave her Aunt Marj’s house on Sunday so she could return to Kent a day early in order to get settled. So why is she on a train headed east? Hmmmm…what have we missed that might explain all this?

June 19, 1946 – Happy Birthday, Dot!

33. June 1946, Dart's Letters, Dot's Letters

Dart hopes Dot’s birthday has been a happy one. He’s glad they were able to celebrate it together yesterday, and in the spirit of the day, he ate the remainder of her cake tonight.

He had intended to write a big letter today, but it is now actually 1:00 in the morning tomorrow and he has yet to begin his psych homework. He’s behind schedule because he had to take his Aunt Mary home, then he had to delay the start of his 90 minutes of typing practice so that his father could listen to Joe Lewis get whipped. (He was disappointed when Joe won.) Now, the typing practice is behind him and psychology awaits.

Dart’s plan for a “standard day” calls for bedtime to  be around 11:30, or at the very least, homework done and a letter to Dot begun by that time. His psychology professor gave a short lecture today on study habits and Dart plans to follow his recommendations.

Still no poli sci text books available, so that course may become a problem. He struggles with typing and today’s practice doesn’t look much better than yesterday’s.

“I hope you didn’t cry on the train. …I won’t say how very much I miss you, Dot, for that’s beyond comprehension and expression. I must fill my life with all sorts of artifices to forget that you’re away, and that way I might not succumb to the gnawing longing within me.”

#          #          #

Dot types this letter from her dad’s fix-it shop while she waits for her mother, Harriet and Eleanor to get back from New York. They went into the city to welcome her train, but the ticket master in Greenwich gave them the wrong arrival time, so Dot got back to Greenwich as they were traveling into NYC.

Her trip was uneventful and she managed to have a seat to herself from Buffalo to Grand Central. She even thinks she slept about six hours while aboard.

“Less than 24 hours since I saw you and it seems like years. But I wasn’t going to start that, was I? At least give me credit for not crying when I got on the train. I had a mighty big lump in my throat but I managed to control myself. Now that I’m an old lady, I’ve got to learn to act like one, even if it kills me, and I know it will.”

She asks that Dart thank his mother for the nice lunch she’d pack. Dot ate the chicken sandwiches at Albany, and even though she’s not used to eating chicken sandwiches at 6:00 a.m., they tasted delicious.

She hopes he’s practicing his typing because someone in the family will have to type all his manuscripts, and judging from the looks of this letter, it won’t be her. She asks that he try not to flirt with all the cuties on campus – to leave some for the other guys.

She warned him that this wouldn’t be a very long letter, and she doesn’t want to disappoint him, so she’ll end it now.