This is a sweet letter from Dart, full of romantic sentiments that should brighten her Valentine’s Day when it reaches Willoughby.  Commenting on her report of bowling Mrs. Woodsworth over on the stairs in an effort to get to Dart’s latest letter, Dart writes, “Take it easy going up stairs like that. It’s hard on the heart and I want a good one to belong to me. I hope you’re getting a good one in return. At least it’s a pure one, and true.”

He writes how much he wishes he were with her that very evening – the night of her prom. He tried everything in his power to send her flowers again, but failed to find a way. “At least my heart is with you tonight, and I wish I were with my heart.”

He ends with a long and flowery love poem, tender and sincere.

This was a clever note from Dot, written on one of her prom tallies – what we might have called a “dance card.” In the spaces that fellas would have reserved a dance with Dot (if she had attended), she had written Dart’s name, along with little comments. She also says that he was the talk of the evening, among those girls who did not attend. The decorating committee even dedicated a heart to these two love birds. Everybody loves a lover!

Dart gets a romantic four pages out in response to Dot’s brief note written on the prom “tally.”

He writes that his fingers still tremble when he opens an envelope addressed by her hand. He had a particular thrill when he received this tally note, and has looked at it countless times. He writes “For some obscure reason it affects me. I read it, handle it, and regardless of who is in the room, I break out into a broad smile. A reverie – remembering another tally months ago.”

He goes on to re-tell the story of the dance tally from their first date. It was his return of that tally through the mail that launched their correspondence and this lovely relationship that blossomed.

He also recalls another moment from that first date in October. It was nearing time for the sailors to leave their “girls” and return to Case. Couples were walking across the Andrews campus, each one reluctant to see a wonderful evening end; each wondering if it would end with a kiss. “Finally, as if by a signal, everybody grabbed somebody (except me, who wondered too long what you would think about a kiss on the first date), and osculating couples were strung out along the walk.”

He ends the letter by telling her another snipet of rotten luck that has befallen them. He learned that had he not been struck by the measles/pneumonia combo, he would have received boot leave in time to escort Dot to her prom.  His two boot camp classes have both graduated and gone on with their lives as he has languished in the hospital.

Dot wrote a massive missive, recounting all the activities of a very busy graduation weekend. I can visualize the prom setting from her detailed description of the decorations. She talked about the happy chaos created when the graduating seniors returned to occupy their former rooms. The weekend was chock full of food, dancing and silliness to celebrate the graduation. You can assume from Dot’s cheerful account that she loves a good party. After finally getting to bed around 3:00 on Sunday morning, “Some religious soul who was going to church woke us up at 8:30, for which she is none the better.”

Dot mentioned that their weekend at home begins next Friday. Naturally, going to her home in Greenwich for just a weekend is not possible, so Dot will remain local. She and some of the other students plan a trip into Cleveland to fill their down time.

She thanks Dart for his Valentine poem and for his special thoughts of her on her prom night.

Dart’s letter starts with a “confession” that he received an additional Valentine besides Dot’s. (No worries – it came from one of his “Arsenic and Old Lace” maiden aunts.)

He talked a bit about the beautiful clear, cold day they were having in Chicago and wondering what the weather was like in Cleveland and Willoughby at that moment. His thoughts are never far from home, it seems.

In spite of his recent weight loss, he’s feeling almost fat today after the massive meal he consumed. The hospital pulled out all the stops that day to serve an outstanding dinner of T-bone steak and several side dishes. Dart was lucky enough to score two trays, and he consumed them both! The reason for this unusual feast was a rumor that Vice Admiral Ross McIntire (for whom the hospital was named) would be making a tour of the place that day. Everything was looking its best, but by late afternoon, there was still no sign of the Admiral.

Dart mentions his appreciation of the nice young Protestant chaplain who visits him daily. And he told Dot that he was able to hang on to his quiet semi-private room a little longer because his temperature is still slightly elevated. The latest exam by his doctor reveals that spending so much time on his back recently may have “squeezed out” the infection at the old surgical site, so a second operation may not be necessary after all. Potentially really good news! Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

He wraps up his newsy letter with a fairly random story of a two-week surveying trip he made into the wild interior of Ohio last summer. He and three classmates from Case shared a four-man tent, tramped over hills and valleys and created a beautiful map of the area. Dart seems to have thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

Dot begins her letter by counting to 10. Does anyone still use that trick to control their anger? Well, she had just received his notice of the second surgery needed to repair the botched original procedure on his back, and she is furious! “Aren’t they aware that the only reason the war is not over is because they keep you sandwiched between the sheets?”

Switching gears, she goes on for quite a few lines about a question she’s been meaning to ask him for quite some time – one that has been nagging her for weeks. She really embellishes the seriousness of the question before finally having the nerve to ask it. “The question facing both of us is ‘Will Mutt ever be as tall as Jeff?'” That’s another cultural reference that is going the way of the dodo bird, I suspect.

At last she gets to the real crux of the letter – inviting him to be her escort at the spring prom on April 28. “Providing you haven’t the measles, mumps, whooping cough, pneumonia, back aches, cysts, appendicitis, or by that time rheumatism (in your old age), will you come to the spring prom?” Let’s hope these kids get a lucky break that would allow that to happen.

She admits to having made the cookies he enjoyed so much, but adds “…but one can hardly live on fudge and Toll House cookies, can one?” Well, I don’t see why one couldn’t try!

This is Dart’s shortest note yet, with no news and no letters to answer. He tells Dot that there is a slight chance he may get a 10-day sick leave when he’s released from the hospital, before returning to boot camp. Oh, how he wants that!

Dot’s offering is also very short – a simple Valentine card to which she adds the line “This holds a deeper meaning than you think.”

Dart was very impressed with Dot’s moment-by-moment account of the graduation weekend, and he took several pages to express his delight in her letter.

He regretted that she stayed home on prom night instead of joining the festivities. In his opinion, prom is an experience not to be missed in the life of an American teenager. He hinted that there was a long story involving his senior prom that he would certainly tell her someday. Hmmm…I hope he includes the story in a future letter so we can share it too.

There have been a number of minor references in the letters between these two indicating that neither of them is a big Sinatra fan. I thought everyone of that generation loved Sinatra – especially music lovers like Dot and Dart. Well, it seems that Dart is more impressed by Old Blue Eyes’ acting than by his singing, having heard good things about his role in “Higher and Higher.”  While on the subject of celebrities, Dart professed to be jealous when he read about Dot’s adoration of the aging star, Ronald Coleman.

He remarked that he truly enjoyed reading about her good times that weekend. It makes him miss his own good times a little less to read about hers.

Dart twice expressed the hope that when Dot is in Cleveland next weekend she will drop in on his parents. He very much likes the idea of all of his favorite people getting to know each other better.

News from his world included the fact that he is growing a beard. It looks like heck – scruffy and a weird mix of brown, red and orange, but he’s planning on sticking with it as long as the Navy lets him.

He was allowed to get out of bed for a few minutes this morning as the corpsman made the bed. The effort left him dizzy, weak and coughing hard. He really can’t handle a relapse!

After Dot expressed her anger at the Navy for the mess Dart finds himself in, he writes “Don’t lose your faith in the Navy. Even though I struck pay dirt, I still have my faith in the Navy. I just get a little ‘down’ once in awhile.” He scolds her for suggesting that she might be a jinx for him, considering his track record since meeting her. On the contrary – he believes she’s one of the nicest things that’s ever happened to him. The best thing she can do is continue to write her wonderful letters several times a week. “I love them, Dot, and I love you the more for them.”

Finally, he accepts her invitation the the prom on April 28, having no previous engagements. It’s good for both of them to have something to look forward to.

Dot begins her letter with an admission that she gets the same thrill when she sees his letters now as she got when she opened his first letter to her. His most recent one put her in such a beautiful state of mind for glee club practice that she sounded like Lily Pons’s dog. (I have no idea what that reference means. Mom, can you clear it up for me?)

She is excited to hear that he may not need an operation after all.

She ends her brief note with a story about two of her roommates who are now on cook duty. They decided to make a batch of cookies for the house. When the housemother saw the mass of batter they’d created, she explained the the recipe they’d used was for the cafeteria when they were cooking for the whole school! Dot is looking forward to cookies served at breakfast, lunch and dinner for days to come.

She signed off with a cryptic “I have a lot to say but no time to say it, so adios until tomorrow.”

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.