Last nigh Dart had such a debilitating headache that he went to bed without doing any homework. He awoke with the same affliction. Tonight is the first time in 6 days that his head has not been pounding. These headaches were with him at Sunapee, they follow him from school to home. Today he nearly keeled over a few times and he can’t recall how he got from one class to another. It may be almost time to go see Dr. Singer.

Tonight he felt well enough to attend his first class in prose workshop. He thinks he’ll like this class, although it may be at cross-purposes with his journalism class. He’s been warned that the instructor, Miss Tallmadge, is screwy and difficult to get along with. She seemed okay to him this evening.

He has finally received the letter Dot wrote as soon as she returned to Greenwich from Cleveland. He’s glad she had such and easy trip, but he’s as sorry as she is that her dream of him accompanying her was not real.

He hasn’t picked up his vacation film yet because funds are short. His GI Bill check was wrong so he had to turn it in and wait for the corrected one. Then he was forced to pay the rent when it came due because his parents have no money. “If Mom, Pop, or I don’t get jobs soon, we’ll be moving into the garage with the Chariot. Our building is about to be sold to the highest bidder, which may force us out, jobs or no jobs. Maybe I can use my ruptured duck as a shield when the eviction notice comes.” Gosh, it seems as though things have become quite dire in the Peterson household.

He tells Dot to tell Janie that he’d be delighted to have her help every night on his Spanish class, on one condition: every time she comes over, she must bring that cute cousin of hers – Arthur Chamberlain’s youngest daughter.

“I’m anxious to learn how you made out on your tests for the phone co. I hope you come out okay and that you like the job. ”

The daily report on Cleveland’s new trolley cars is rosy. The crowds have thinned, the mechanical errors are working themselves out, and the system is able to keep to schedules rather well. The citizens of the city seem to be pretty well in favor of the modern marvels.

“Good night, my Dearest. I hope you have all sorts of good luck in school and job.”

Then he adds a PS: “Mrs. Shaffer asked Mom if we were married. She said we acted it and looked like we should be.”

#          #          #

Dot writes to Dart after attending her eldest sister Harriet’s baby shower. Most of the guests were much older than Dot and most were surprised to learn that she was going to be married in less than a year. Dot was still fuming from all of the comments of “Oh, but you’re so young!” She was especially irked when those comments came from women who’d been married at age 18! “Thanks goodness I’ll be living in Ohio where I’ll have some friends my own age!”

Aside from that, the shower was a huge success and Harriet has all she’ll need to take good care of either Peter Carl or Gretchen Ann.

Eleanor has finally had enough of being pushed around and abused by her employer D. W. Rogers. She resigned yesterday, as her father has been urging her to do for months. She’s been long working hours of unpaid overtime and when her boss asked her yesterday why her monthly reports weren’t done, she replied that it was hard to keep up when she was doing three people’s jobs.

It’s after 1:00 AM and she must go into NYC tomorrow, so she bids Dart good night. Incidentally, she begs him to come for Christmas because she doesn’t think she can bear to go until June without hearing his voice or seeing his smile.

Dart’s letter today is “the first work of pleasure to come from the platten” of a brand new Remington Rand typewriter. He just paid $25 down and has payments of $4.25 per month until he’s paid off the $61.64. He hopes this little machine will provide them both with many years of service. He’d spent a day on the phone trying to find one to rent. Then he decided that a typewriter would be of immeasurable help in his chosen profession, so he thought this would be a good investment.

He sends his condolences to those losing bums, the Brooklyn Dodgers. “I know how difficult these days must be for you and your family, so if there’s anything I can do to help in these trying days, please don’t hesitate to ask. Believe it or not, the group of men known as the Cleveland Indians once came almost as close to winning the pennant as did your beloved Bums. We of the city held a wake for the team, and since then they have never been heard of.”

As much as he hates to, he must tell her that his savings account dropped to $30, partly because of his government stipend being held up this month, and partly because he paid the family rent. Then he took another $15 out to pay for the typewriter. His parents feel terrible and have promised to pay him back as soon as possible. Dart told them the only timeline he’s interested in is next June when he leaves for Greenwich for the wedding. “If Mom or Pop don’t get a job soon, I’ll have to apply for a subsistence allowance of $90 a month.”

He tells Dot how he and Homer went last night to the  home of a model railroader named Larry to play with trains. Then he finds himself at a temporary loss for words. He finds that typing his letters takes much more time and concentration than handwriting them, but he must continue to practice.

The vacation photos came back and he was pretty disappointed with one roll. He thinks all the ones of her eating are the prize shots, but the photos aren’t as cute as the real girl. His father warns that he plans to give Dot lots of ribbing about those eating pictures. His mother ended up being scandalized by the photos after all the trouble they went to posing in front of separate cabins. As it turns out, there’s a guy in them wearing tan swimming trunks, which in a black and white picture are the same color as his birthday suit, so Helen at first thought he was naked!

Although he threatened to go see Dr. Singer, his headaches have been a bit milder, plus he has no money to pay the good doctor.

It’s looking like he won’t be hearing about that job he applied for. Now it seems that the only option left for him is a weekend job at a drug store or something. He wishes he could find something more to his liking, and perhaps related to his future career.

No matter how picky the telephone company is about their future employees, he’s positive they’ll pick her. He’s proud that she’s taking the steps necessary to get a good job.

If rentable typewriters are as rare in Connecticut as they are in Cleveland, she may get one early in 1948. If she feels she needs one now, maybe she could buy one and then sell it when she moves to Ohio.

“Good night, Dot Dearest. I miss you so much that if I should try to tell you, I’d fill six more pages with impassioned phrases and would only make us both so much more homesick for each other that we could hardly stand it. There’ll be plenty of time for that kind of writing as the time until our next meeting grows shorter. I miss you and love you so very much!”

#          #          #

This afternoon, Dot and her mother took Toni Gale to swim at Todd’s Beach, marking the first time in Dot’s memory that she has swum outside in the month of October. Last week they were wearing top coats and today was perfect beach weather.

Toni Gale, who henceforth will be known simply as Gale, is spending the night with Dot. It doesn’t take much to please the little girl. Tonight Dot washed her hair and tied it up in a bandana, just like Dot does her own hair. Gale was delighted with he results.

The Meyerinks (Gale’s parents) just bought a new Studebaker. Gale is so happy they finally got id of their old jalopy. When Dot asked Gale what she was going to name the car, Gale said “The Red Mare.” When Dot asked why that name, Gale said, Well, whenever we drove that old Jinx, people would yell at us, ‘Get a horse!’, so we did.” Dot is impressed with the beautiful maroon Studebaker sedan that has a five-foot wide front seat and even comes with bumpers!

She knows Dart may not recall, but when they announced their engagement, her sister-in-law promised to get them a set of towels the next day. Since it was so soon after the war, there were no towels to be had. Yesterday, Betty presented Dot with two sets of lovely, plush yellow towels. Dot says she really must get a hope chest because her dresser is packed to over flowing.

She wishes she could be there in person tomorrow to watch him join the church. She loves him very much, and adds mysteriously that to prove how much she loves him, her hangnails are almost completely gone.

Dart has typed today’s letter also. Let’s just say that’s a good thing, because it looks like he needs lots of practice!

He joined the Congregational Church today and his parents joined him for communion. He feels good about his decision. This afternoon he had another one of those blinding headaches, making it harder to catch up on all of his homework assignments. There has been a fairly light load this week because so many students are having difficulty finding the text books, but he still has to read 60 pages of Colonial Lit and complete a measuring assignment for Journalism. (He must measure the column inches that the Plain Dealer devotes to different categories of stories.) So far in Lit class he’s had to read some writings by John Smith, which the author embellished a great deal to make himself appear to be the Superman of Jamestown.

Perhaps Dot saw an article in This Week about Dr. J. J. Nassau of Case University. He runs the observatory there and holds public lectures on astronomy. Dart’s hoping he and Dot can attend a few of these entertaining and free lectures after they’re married.

This little typewriter has won Dart’s heart. It’s an amazing piece of machinery, which is the quickest way to Dart’s heart, unless you’re a cute Connecticut Yankee named Dot. He likes it more every minute he uses it, but he’d hate to have to design and build something this complex that ends up selling for a mere $61.00.

“My watch tells me it’s almost supper time, so I guess I better stop now. I only wish you were the one fixing the supper. Thank you for not hating me after the way I treated you a few of the nights of our vacation. My actions then will always be a blot on the otherwise perfect three weeks.”

That last paragraph bothered me when I read it, and it must have bothered Dart as well, because He returned to the letter to write a long P. S. The first part of the post script was about a visit from Guy and Ann and the antics of their delightful little girls, Martha and Carolyn. But then he returned to the previous subject. “I still love you, Dot. Please remember that. I feel almost sick when I think of the way I acted. Until I feel worthy of your forgiveness, I won’t ask for it. All I hope is that someday we will understand. Thank you my Dear for all you are. I love you very much. So much that I feel ashamed to tell you after our misunderstanding.”

#          #          #

At church this morning, Dot tried to visualize Dart standing among the new members at the front of the sanctuary. Later, she daydreamed about the next time she sees him and how he’ll be standing by the altar for a different reason. “Yes, it’s now only a few months until the BIG DAY!!!. Eight months isn’t such a long time, really. (It says here.)”

Ever since she’s been home she’s been living with the constant hope that they would be together at Christmastime. “I sometimes get so lonesome for you that I wonder how I’ll ever get through the winter without looking like ‘the last rose of summer blooming alone’.” She hopes it’ll get easier when she starts her job, but that won’t take all the hurt away.

“Last night I had the most horrible dream about the misunderstanding we had when we got back from Sunapee. Dart, it was the most terrifying and most realistic dream I’ve ever experienced. I will never forgive myself for acting so childish. You know it is my last wish to do anything that makes you doubt your love for me. I want our love to be as deep and sincere and wholesome as any love can be. I wish I could do something which would make me as vital to you as you are to me. I may never achieve my goal, but I hope that with a knowledge of shorthand and typing I will be able to help you a great deal in your school work next year. Mountain climbing is ever so much more fun when two people do it together. Then, when they reach the summit, the can enjoy the view together and look upon their climb as having been well worth the hard work.”

Saying that this was one of those letters she should probably burn, and knowing she should quit now before she makes herself even more upset, she tells Dart, “Forgive me for loving you so much. It was always something I couldn’t help.”

I wonder if Mom will be able to share any information about the incident they both feel so sad and guilty about. Has it been lost in the intervening decades of predominantly good memories, or will she remember it, and choose to keep it private?

It’s after midnight and Dart still has homework to do, but he’ll use this time as his rest period. He’s been working steadily since 5:00, except for 30 minutes to listen to Fibber and Molly on the radio. He helped his Uncle Tom move a mimeograph machine from Case over to Tom’s house.

He was so happy to get two letters from Dot yesterday, especially since one of them contained a nice portrait of her. He put it on the mantel so his folks could see it, and now they won’t give it back to him. “I like it better than the little one which appeared in the papers, but it’s still not the perfect picture of you. You’re so animated and so much alive that no picture ever does you justice. Your prettiness (your beauty, if you wish) is of a dynamic type. It can’t be represented well by a photograph which freezes some fleeting action. You are so lovely that it would take many pictures to make a good picture of you. That’s why I want so many.”

Responding to her recent letter, he agrees that he also gets mad when tactless people say the “but you’re so young! “I can sympathize with you, but can do nothing to help you when it happens.”

He’s glad El had the courage to leave Rogers. Sometimes those crusty old businessmen forget that their employees are human. But more important than El’s job is Dot’s! He’s so proud of her. The shift is nearly perfect because she gets both her mornings and her nights free. How does she plan to get her exercise in?

Now, there’s no sense her kicking up a fuss about him liking buttermilk because she likes shrimp! Horrors!

It’s back to work for him. He tells her to take good care of the girl he loves.

#          #          #

Dot was thrilled to get two wonderful typewritten letters from Dart yesterday, even though she has no time tonight to answer them. She elaborates a bit by concluding that the letters themselves were wonderful, regardless of the typing skill. Still, even that has improved since the last time she saw a sample of his typing. She’s glad he was able to buy a new typewrite, which seems like a very sound investment, indeed.

Jane found a job today at the Fairfield Oil Company, whose office is directly across the street from Dot’s house. She and Jane both begin their new jobs on Monday. Tomorrow and Thursday, they are both pitting in a little time at the dreaded D. W. Rogers, assisting them some way as they install a new kind of billing system. Then on Saturday, she’ll be at the Pecsok house, watching the kids while Mrs. P. goes into NYC to meet Mr. P’s train from Cleveland. As usual, Dot is managing to keep her schedule full.

She started her Christmas shopping today. She’s determined to limit her spending to $1.00 per person. Her mother was saying the other day how much she needs aprons, so Dot spent $1.13 on some fabric today and plans to make two monogrammed aprons for Ruth. Since she claims that her time isn’t worth anything, she’ll come in almost exactly on budget with her first gift.

She must get up earlier tomorrow than usual, so she needs to wrap this up, sending Dart all her love.

Dart begins, “Gosh, I wish you were here! We’d have so much fun doing my work! I think you’d get a big kick out of the American Lit we’ve had recently. Some of those old birds (and biddies) were really humorous, whether they intended it that way or not. Mr. Carter, by his few words and supplementary material in class, has made the first century in the American literary scene seem vital, very much alive.  Maybe I’ll like this class.”

He goes on to say that this teacher is a smart guy. He called the role the first two days, but by the third class, he called each student by name, without looking at his notes or seating chart. He gets a kick out of his subject, and so do we, from him.

He feels less fondly toward his Industry class. He doesn’t like the instructor and the text book “gripes” him; it is boring and dry. The teacher’s name describes his voice, his posture, his character, “and possibly his head.” The man’s name is “Wood.”

His Spanish class seems easy, but it must be harder than he thought because he hardly ever gets anything right in class. With a test looming on Monday, he’ll have to study extra hard to make sure he can manage the material.

“Journalism’s coming along okay, but I’m still open for a decision on it. I’ve had two very unimportant papers returned with As on them. Good for the ego, but bad for the soul.”

He describes his Prose Workshop as a “doozey.” He says, “At the beginning of the period, Miss Tallmadge throws us animals a chunk of stuff to chew on. She’ll ask us to fill a blank in a short sentence with any word which comes to our mind, then to give a reason for our choice of that word. She reads us stories, essays, articles, or narratives and then asks for our comments on them: Why we thought they were good; what the main points of interest to us were; and stuff like that. In that way, she gets us to express our own feelings. Says writing must be genuine, spontaneous, and unhurried. It’s a stimulating class and I could use it twice a week, if I could crank out enough words to satisfy. ” They were asked to turn in something they’d already written and he submitted the letter he’d written the first time he’d encountered the beautiful island of Saipan.

Now for the big news! His mother got a job today! She starts tomorrow, working in the cafeteria in the Federal Reserve Bank. She’ll work from 10 AM to 3 PM, six days a week. He reports that it pays pretty well. She seems to like the place, and he hopes she’ll continue to like it.

Speaking of jobs, he writes that the one he applied for still haunts him. He still hopes he’ll hear from them, even then all real hope is lost by now. He’d love to have a job where he could write and earn money. Soon, he’ll be forced to take anything that makes money.

He wonders if El has found a new job yet. What does the current situation do to her plans for a  “pink-plush-and-purple-plastic convertible?”

The Lucky Joe piggy bank has accumulated $1.99 in pennies. He’ll scrounge around for a few more scraps for the little porker and then bury it all deeply into their joint savings account.

Yesterday morning at precisely 7:00, he awoke with a start when he heard Dot calling him. It wasn’t a soothing call – more like a frantic one, as though she was afraid of something. He hopes she can explain it because he’s been unsettled by it ever since.

He has an invitation from his new church to come to a dinner next Wednesday, given in honor of new members. He’d like to go if he can spare the time, even if it means another night of skipping his letter time with Dot.

That’s nice news about the Meyerink’s “Little Red Mare. He wonders how much they charge to look at it and he hopes the price will have dropped by his next trip to Greenwich so he can give the Studebaker the once-over.

The moon this week was spectacular. Just has he was wishing it were last month and he could stand by the lake and gaze at the moon with Dot, the clouds over Cleveland parted and the big full moon peeked through.

He’s distressed by her invitation to come for December. He doesn’t see any way that will be possible, but he’ll keep hoping to see a way. He has only a few dollars in his account, but Christmas is coming. Still, he can’t think of a thing he’d rather do with any surplus funds than go see his fiance.

And now, he returns to the topic of their misunderstanding during their vacation. “If I can be perfectly frank (at the risk of causing another misunderstanding), I still feel that I was a little justified in wondering what the score was that night. But I don’t feel justified in making such a d— fool of myself by talking too soon, the way I did, and placing our whole future in jeopardy. Oh, that was awful, Dot. Whatever else it did, it showed us that we can’t take everything granted, nor can we always be sure that everything we do is acceptable to the other. It showed us lessons that we’ll still be learning for a long time. It showed me tolerance and patience; perhaps it showed you that too much of a good thing ceases to be good; and it shows us some things about each other that we must look out for and adjust to. I’m glad we have come through such an experience still in love, and not embittered. Dot, you will be as vital to me as I am to you. I may yet depend on you for as much, or more as you now depend on me. Then we’ll be most of the way up that mountain. I liked that part of your letter. It just fits us.”

I spoke with my mother recently about this mysterious misunderstanding. The only thing she could imagine these letters referred to was a fight she’d told me about when I was a kid. It happened after the two had spent a lovely, but tense week at Lake Sunapee, being over-chaperoned by Eleanor. On the one hand, the week was probably the most concentrated time these love birds had ever spent in each other’s presence. On the other hand, they were allowed no intimate moments – scarcely able to hold hands under Eleanor’s watchful eye. Fast forward a few days when they were back in Greenwich, before leaving for Cleveland. Dot was driving Dart around town and came to a rolling stop at a remote intersection. Dart, from the passenger seat, said firmly, “That sign said ‘Stop.'” Dot continued to drive on in silence. When she came to the next stop sign, she stopped. And waited. And waited some more. At last Dart said to her, “What are you waiting for?” She responded, “I’m waiting for the sign to say ‘Go.'”

Dart apparently took her flip remark very badly. He was naturally a fairly sensitive guy anyway. He was very worried about his father’s emotional state and the dire financial situation his family was enduring. And now, his fiance, whom he perceived to be a sweet , compliant, and adoring girl, had shown her feisty and sarcastic streak. Perhaps she’d over-reacted, but there’s no doubt that Dart certainly did. Things blew up. Harsh words were spoken, and Dot offered to give him the ring back. It is they only fight they had before they were married (and one of the rare fights in the 58 years that followed), but it left a mark on both of them. Now, 70 years later, Dot still takes most of the blame. “My sarcasm has always gotten me into trouble,” she says now.

#          #          #

Dot writes, “It’s now 12:45 AM, but don’t feel sorry for me for I’ve not been spending all evening doing homework. I’ve been reminiscing a bit while looking through my scrapbook which, by the way, is sadly in need of attention. We’ve had lots of fun together, even though we’ve been separated a good portion of the three years we’ve known each other. The past three years have been the best of my life. I wish I could describe the feeling I get when I wake up each morning and think how very much I love you. I’ll never stop thanking ‘the powers that be’ for letting me know you and love you.”

“I gave your parents credit for having better taste.” She’s referring to the photo of her that they’ve taken from Dart. “Perhaps they thought only of trying to spare you by taking it from your sight. “As for your flattery – thanks, Honey, but I’ll love you just as much if you don’t give with the pretty talk. ‘Course, it sounds awfully nice, so you needn’t give it up completely.”

Now she hopes she’ll get a good close-up of him very soon – soon enough so that she’ll have time to enjoy it before she gets to be “close-up” to the real thing!

El decided to go into partnership with her father at the shop. Meanwhile, Dot earned $10.00 working 2 days at Rogers – “Or, at least that’s what they paid me.”