I intend to post almost daily, and in roughly chronological order, the thousands of pages of daily love letters that my parents sent to each other during WWII and any other documents that pertain to these letters..
There was no mail this morning and I was disappointed, to put it mildly. Since I am typing this at the office, I have no idea of whether or not there was mail in the afternoon. I hope so!
I think I forgot to tell you that we rented our garage. It will not house a car, however, but be used as a store room for newspaper. A boy scout outfit collects newspaper for the government and makes quite a bit, so they can afford to rent a place to store the paper until the government truck picks up their stock. Naturally, they must accumulate quite a bit before the government will send a truck to pick it up. Anyway $5 is $5, and it will come In mighty handy at the present time.
I described Adele's new snowsuit in yesterday's v-mail and called the color jungle green. No, it isn't jungle green - it's a deep blue green shade and I think it very flattering to Adele's pink complexion.
I did have some mail this morning - a nice v-mail from Milt Brown, who continues to write regularly whenever the opportunity presents itself. There was nothing unusual to report that I could pass on to you. As long as he is well; that is the main thing.
I just happened to think - I haven't received your Sept. bond as yet. That is mailed to me from Washington and I can't see any reason why that should be held up. What in heaven's name is keeping back the mail???????????????????? Yep, I'm that anxious!!
The enclosed picture (ain't she sumpin’!) was part of a blotter and I thought she looked so good that I'd send her along to keep you company.
Adele slept soundly through last night and didn't awake til seven. I've been catching her often, so that she does not wet the crib as much as before. I usually pick her up out of her sleep before I retire and place her on the toddy. She rarely fails to "go".
It's just a minute to six and we're getting ready to close. Guess I'll finish this at home. See you later, sweet.
Home once more to learn that there was no mail this afternoon. Gosh, Phil, I know Phil, but Jesus Phil!
Adele went to bed like a good little girl this evening and I went down to the drugstore to get a few necessities. I'm going to knit a little while and then hit the hay. Night, honey, I love you so very much!
I feel better tonight than t have for weeks. The reason? I finally got off all those letters I've been wanting to write all that time. Most of today and part of yesterday was consumed in the process, but the new-found feeling of relief is worth it. In all, besides my letters to you, I wrote to Jack S., Jack N., Eddie, Mike and Clara Wagman. I would have written to Dot, too, but I don't have her new address yet. I'll write as soon as I hear from her. There was no mail from any one today - not even you, Baby, but there was a scrumptious 3-lb. box of Loft's chocolates from Gloria by way of consolation. I'll have to write to her first chance I get. It was the first Xmas package I received.
S’funny, Chippie, but I hardly know what to write about tonight! I've received and answered all your letters. up to 11 Oct. (I haven't received the one for the 10th yet). I haven't done a thing worth writing about, and there is no news to acquaint you with. Guess I could fill up a few pages just telling you how much I want you and need you and love you, but I find that indulging myself that way invariably makes me intolerably homesick, and because it isn’t a pleasant feeling, I only write in that vein when I am already feeling that way and so have nothing to lose by it. It's been so long, Sweet, since I wrote any real good news, that I can’t help wishing I had some to impart tonight, but there just isn't any news - either good or bad, so what's a guy to do? Perhaps, if I were in the mood, I could knock off a few verses of what I am wont to call “poetry,” but I guess I just ain't in the mood. - And besides, now that I think of it, you didn't acknowledge my last little effort by so much as a word, remember? I hate to think my trouble went for naught, and now that I'm good and mad about the whole thing - no more "poetry” until you acknowledge the last stint - so there now!
Oh hell, I guess the best thing I can do tonight is - hit the sack. Good-night, Baby. I love you so much! I really do - and I ain't really mad - how could I be? Here's a kiss to prove it! My dearest love to the punkin. Love to all.
Always, Your adoring Phil
Oct. 22, 1944
Dearest Phil,
This morning I stopped over to Mr. Gorin’s (the man across the way that sells children's clothes wholesale) in the hope of getting Adele an outfit at wholesale price. He gave me two coat and legging sets, but neither fit her properly. He was all out of snowsuits, but dug up two that had been returned because of a small damage. I settled for one of the suits. At first I didn't care for it, but when she got it on I bought it immediately. After I examined the suit, I found another very small damage. The suit sells for $15, but I got it for $8. It's not a Byrd cloth material like her other suit, but has a soft finish, very much like camel hair. It's a three piecer, consisting of leggings, jacket and a hood. Jungle green is the color of it. The lining of the hood is bright red and the red peeks out on the edges. The hood is pulled snug against the head with a red draw string that has red tassels on the end. The jacket has two full cut deep pockets and a fairly wide belt. On the shoulder of the jacket, on the front only, on either side are three red stripes with a fancy green tip. It's a most attractive outfit and I certainly got it for a song. Neither of the small damages is noticeable, in fact, I wouldn't even call them damages.
Uncle Sam and Pauline were over and had lunch with us. Adele took to them immediately. Unc gave her 50¢ in change and she went directly upstairs, pulled the penny bank out of the drawer and “put the money in the bank". I was dumbfounded, for usually when someone gives her some money, she drags me to the "tandy tore, pretsol" (candy store for a pretzel). I meant to tell you sometime back that Eddie Strongin was transferred from Ireland to Wales.
This morning after getting the snowsuit I visited Fay, and Adele got hysterics over a pussy cat that Fay recently acquired. Every time that pussy cat moved or washed herself, Adele squealed with joy. From Fay’s I stopped to see my mother. Jack was busy playing some of the rolls from the player piano and Adele became fascinated with the moving keys. Jack, by the way, has become an excellent dancer, and I'd venture to say that he is a close second to Jack Nerenberg. Jack likes the way I dance and keeps bothering me to practice with him. Ruth played some of the rolls on the piano and I jitterbugged with Jack. Then my mother and daddy started dancing and Adele joined in, using her dolly as a partner. She, tries to imitate me by lifting her foot in a jump-like step. Before she tries it, however, she gets a firm grip on something and then goes to town. I brought her home shortly after and gave her lunch. The Strongins came about then. When Adele finished her lunch I put her up for her nap. About a half hour later I went up and found that she simply had no sleep in her. So, I brought her down once more and she went without a nap today. Consequently she was very cranky this evening, but I made sure that she was in bed earlier than usual. I just finished ironing and as soon as I finish this I'm going to bed. Gee, but I wish you were going up with me! I love you so much, baby! Hope, too, that there will be mail from you on the morrow.
There was no mail this morning and I'm rather anxious to see if there was any this afternoon. As you may have noted, I'm running this off at the office at closing time.
Adele gets smarter every day. This morning, for instance, when I was putting her shoes on, she kicked against the side of our bed and I asked her to stop. When I had asked her three times, I turned her over and smacked her "toosey". She then said, "Sorry, mommy, no more". What a kid!
Oct. 21, 1944
I was disappointed once more - mailless day again! I remember your telling me not to get dejected when and if your mail should be held up, but I know of no logical reason for it at the present time. Most everyone I know has had mail way through October and I'm unable to get past the first of the month. I'm in a terrible rut, honey, and that's putting it mildly. Only mail from you will break it, too. I miss you so keenly Phil - oh what's the use - words just seem to fail me. I'm so horribly empty inside!
Winter is taking a firm grip on us and it is necessary to use the heat often. The only thing I have any appetite for these past few weeks is knitting, and as a result I've nearly completed the pink sweater for Adele.
Etta is due to have her baby any day. The baby's name will have to start with a ''W" and if it's a boy its name will have to be William, after Nat's father. I haven't the slightest idea of what she'll name a girl.
I worked my usual four hours this morning. After work I walked down to 7th & South to pick up my dad's suit and coat. It rained all day, but I felt like walking to get some of the restlessness out of me. I shopped for strollers in the meantime, but found nothing that inspired me to buy. They are sky high. Mr. Bellet said he would let me talk to the salesman of the stroller concern when he comes to visit us and perhaps I can get what I want that way. The only thing is that I may have to wait a long while for it and that isn't so good.
I note that the typewriter ribbon is getting very light, as compared to the type of our office machine. I have a new ribbon and will put it on tomorrow. (Just in case you were about to comment),
We had some company this afternoon for a short while - Tante Bosh and Sylvia. Adele says "Sylvia" just as you or I would, in fact she says it more clearly than we do.
My brother Seymour was supposed to get home this weekend, but missed out when he went up for his pass. He was too late and they refused to issue any more "liberty'. Oh well, better luck next time. He called the folks and everyone was very disappointed.
Phil, all I can really think about is - when will I have mail from you! Darling, it's bad enough not being able to see or talk to you, and when I fail to receive mail, it only makes you seem that much further from me. Phil, dearest, I love you and want you so much! I'm counting on having mail tomorrow, (I mean Monday) and hope I won't be let down this time. And now I'm going to take myself up to bed and try to drown my sunken spirits in sleep. I've even had difficulty getting some sleep all week! Good night, baby, wherever you are. I am and always will be
Your Eve
20 October 1944
Darling Chippie,
Last night, I had completed four of these pages to Jack N., when I was called to the Orderly Room to clear up some records. That took the rest of the evening, so I neither finished Jack's letter nor had time to write to you. Today, I took advantage of my "pass" to finish Jack's letter, (after dinner I slept til 11:00), and now i'm all set to answer your two V-mails of 9 and 11 Oct, which arrived yesterday. There was no fresh mail today. Incidentally, Sweet - in writing to Jack, I gave him a rough idea as to my plans concerning him, Lenny and myself. I told him to write to you for the more detailed account which I sent to you. I'd appreciate it if you don't wait for his request but send off copies to him and Lenny first chance you get, I want to hear what they have to say about it at the earliest possible date.
It's been a miserable, rainy day, and I only left the warmth of the log fire in the stove to trudge down to the Mess Hall for dinner—(and I do mean “trudge"). It was tough and uncomfortable walking in the teeth of the wind-driven rain. But one has to eat, doesn't one, Chippie?
On 9 Oct. you complain that you hadn't received mail for seven days. I don't understand, Sweet, why that was so, ’cause I never missed writing that long. The last lapse of more than a day was two weeks ago, when I went to London on pass. The rest of your letter was entirely about Adele and her latest “doings". From your account, honey, she sure is a “cutie". Reading about her demonstration toward Al, and your reaction to the little scene, kinda “made the lump come up" for me, too. I couldn't help but feel cheated, somehow.
On the 11th you inform me that Harry finally landed a job in the Navy Yard. I'm glad of that, anyway.
Tomorrow, I mean to write as many letters as I have time for. Outside of the foregoing, Baby, there isn't anything to report, and as I must get ready for tomorrow's inspection, I'll sign off now with all my love for my adored Chippies. My love to all.
Today the only mall I had was a letter from Syd. He wrote that he has developed a nasty temper and a bad disposition and has to get away from camp often to keep a level head. He said he is in such bad shape that he is losing his friends. I don't have to tell you how I feel not having mail from you all this time and his letter made me feel no better. We're all in the same boat that way.
Besides that we had another letter from the War Dept. stating that "as of Oct. 9th, Ed was still seriously ill". I've decided to write to the Major who has been sending us the reports. Perhaps something can be done about shipping Ed back to the States. I'm sure if he saw us all again he'd get all well in no time at all. Of course I realize that he may be in no condition to travel at the moment, but nevertheless I'd like to know that we could count on his coming home in the very near future. No harm in trying.
Seymour is due home this weekend and I think it will be his last visit home for a while cause I think he is due to ship out. (very poor sentence) I can't even concentrate any more. You sure do have odd effects on me!
Mr. Bellet is making some radical changes in our place. Mr. May, our former bookkeeper leaves next Saturday and Mr. Bellet's sister Jessie takes over. She is married and her husband is a Capt. in the Army. She is very friendly with me. We also took on a new fellow in the shipping department, a fellow who formerly was employed by Mr. Bellet and who will fit right into George's job. I can say one thing for the radical changes - he'll have a more efficient force - and that's precisely what he desires, since George leaves next.
I've been doing a little knitting each night and have gotten the front the back of the pink sweater I'm making for Adele put together. I'm now working on the sleeves, so in no time at all she'll have another sweater.
Clara called last night to Inform me that the girls, as well as Sharp & Dohme sent off a package. She told me to inform you that the girls bought a yellow bole pipe and that you should be on the lookout for it. It is, she concluded, the most expensive item of both packages.
The weather the past few days is typical of Indian summer. It's warm and sunny in the daytime and cool at night. We have a little heat at night, but keep it off during the day, as the house becomes too warm then.
Gettin to the bottom of this page was a terrific effort for me tonight. I can think of one more thing I want very much to tell you - that I love you, Phil darling and I want you very much,
I haven't sufficient time to type a complete letter, but I'm getting off to an early start at the office. Mr. Bellet finally received those strollers I told you about and they are beauties, except for one thing. The backs and seats (under the leather padding) are very skimpy wood slates. Naturally, they will never take hard wear and good wear comes before beauty when buying a carriage. This particular carriage is padded with an aqua colored leather that is very attractive. I'm disappointed, cause I don't think he'll get any more for a while, I think I'll get one retail and hang the expense.
There is still no mail for me (your last letter was dated Oct. 1) and so I'm anxiously awaiting "a" letter or sumpin'. We did have a card from Harry saying that he received a letter from you that it was almost impossible to make contact.
Enclosed are three snaps made last month. I was supposed to take snaps with Seymour that afternoon when he was in, but we never did get around to it. I'm wearing my new sports coat in these. I like the snap of Adele "saluting her daddy" the best. I like me best in the snap where Adele is sitting on the bicycle. The bike belongs to one of the kids down the drive. I must get her one of her own soon. We have beauties in our place for $18.
I rearranged our room for the winter, placing Adele's crib where our bureau used to be and the bureau where Adele's crib used to be. I'm not particularly fond of the new arrangement, but it was the best I could do. Now our bureau and vanity are on one wall. I have each piece catty cornered with the chair from the set standing between the two pieces. It makes the room larger, if anything. Now Adele's crib is completely out of any drafts whatever and I feel lots better.
You may have noticed that the type became lighter shortly after the opening sentences. I'm at home now and though I want to make this a longie, I have little taste for letter-writing again this evening. I'm deep in the dumps and have been all week. Here's hopin’ tomorrow will bring some word from you.
The Wymans took Mom into town to see a show last night and she had a grand time.
This morning when Adele awoke, the first thing she said was "Daddy home - socks on" (meaning that Daddy should come home and put his socks (the ones in the night table drawer) on. Well, whaddaya say Daddy? By the way, you ought to hear your one and only daughter sing! She makes up her own words, too! She reminds me of a bird when she sings,
I rode to work with Anne Cohen today. We decided to meet every Wednesday and go to work together. She works from 12 to 9 on Weds. Anne has a junior executive position at Gimbels, and promised to get me a discount on whatever I want to buy at Gimbels, I'm beginning to think of buying another suit, for I’m becoming mighty tired of my present one, not to mention the hard wear it is getting. I looked at some suits in Gimbels on Monday, when I picked up Adele's corrective shoes at Guetings. I walked to work from Guetings and sort of window shopped all the way. However I found nothing that gave me the urge to buy. Even that little grey suit I told you about was disappointing.
All in all it's been a very disappointing week and I'm hoping for better things before the week is out. Sorry if I seem to be harping on the subject, sweet, but I'm so anxious to hear from you I don't know what to do with myself. I love you so much, baby, and I can't help feeling the way I do. Before I start spilling tears all over this fairly neat letter, I shall just say "night" and be
Devotedly Your Eve
P. S. Didn’t do so bad after all.
18 October 144
Dearest Chippie,
Last night, after supper, I went to see "Sweet Rosie O'Grady.” It is a pretty entertaining film, and I enjoyed it. When I came out, I could have kicked myself for neglecting to bring a flash-light along, ’cause it was raining, and the moonless night was black as pitch. I could never have found my way back to the hut if it were not for the fact that an occasional bicycle or vehicle went by to light up the road for an instant. It certainly was good to get back to the warmth and comparative comfort of the hut. I played with the idea of getting off a letter to Jack N., but I was too content to just to hang around the stove and keep warm. I spent all today checking personnel records. Right now, I'm waiting for the CQ to show up so I may take off. The show tonight is "Once Upon a Time", which I have seen and don't care to see again. Instead, it think I'll change into "Class A's” and take in the regular Wednesday evening dance at the Aero club. It's been a few weeks now since I've been, so I'm kinda “hungry” for some good ole "jive". For the second day running there was no mail from anyone. That package of bottles and nipples is about a week overdue, and i'm beginning to wonder if it'll ever get here. Don't know what else to write about right now, honey, so I'll say a fond good-night for the nonce, with the reminder that I love you dearly. Kiss the punkin for
I spent an almost sleepless night on CQ and killed this morning catching up on my shut-eye. This afternoon for the first time in months, I'm entirely caught up with my work. What a glorious feeling! So—I'm taking advantage of the break by getting this off early so that I may go to the movies tonight to see "Sweet Rosie O'Grady" - again, and possibly get off a letter to Jack N. I'm going to talk some more now about your still unanswered letters. I didn't get very far last night on yours of 3 Oct., and there is quite a bit more I'd like to say about its contents. First, I'd like you to know that I'm most grateful for your encouragement in the matter of my writing—and thanks for “the kiss for trying". I hereby return it with interest. (The “interest” may take any form you wish to imagine) - I know I can trust you not to take advantage of my generosity !??
You make quite a to-do about that new face powder you bought. I would like to suggest, Sweet, that you send me a sample. A little on a bit of cotton or piece of Kleenex should serve the purpose. Will you—huh?
Mom's new outfit must look pretty nice. Especially on her new figure. 18-1/2! Well, whaddya know? Any day now she'll be wanting to borrow your clothes—(do you have any outside of that ever-useful suit? It doesn't seem like it.) When are you going to "spring,” Baby?
I was more than glad to learn that Lil has sent off a package. But I wasn't harboring any grudge, Chippie. I was just wondering whether she was angry with me for something or other, ’cause she didn't even deign to answer my letters. I still have a sneaking hunch that she has something against me, and I'd very much like to know what it is.
Thanks for the financial statement, honey. After reading last night's letter, I don't think it's necessary that I explain why you should stop converting your savings into Bonds. What we need now is a cash reserve. Do you agree?
You needn't wonder anymore, Chippie, as to how I'd react to some of Adele's (boisterous) habits, ’cause I aim to enlighten you right here and now. If Adele is nearly as bright as you make out, then she should be very easy to “hold down". I figure the way to curb her “animal spirits" is to get her interested in something and keep her that way as long as you wish to keep her quiet. That shouldn't be too hard to do with one as inquisitive as the punkin.
Sorry you're having such a hard time getting those shoes for her. It just doesn't make sense, and I’m thoroughly disgusted with a thick-headed rationing board that can't manage to make so essential an item as babies' corrective shoes readily available. I don't blame you for getting mad, Sweet, - thinking about it makes me boil, too! - So much for your letter of the 3rd.
On glancing through your letters, I find that I have already answered those of 4–5 Oct, and there's nothing in that of the 6th that calls for comment. In the V-mail of the 7th, however, you ask a direct question and I try to make it a point to answer these. The reason Bert Woolf is not in the Army is that (you've guessed it!) he's 4-F (or the Limey equivalent). This letter, also, was the one in which you declared the "undefiniteness” of our present mode of life. Very regrettable, I know, honey, but what can one do about it except hope for the best, eh? Besides, I don't like to hear you complain when there are so many others who are in much worse case than you. Take Anne Arcaro, for instance. Surely, she has much better reason to rail against the fates than you have. You, at least, know that your husband is safe and well. And don't point to those women who are fortunate enough to have their husbands at home. Be proud that you have a man that the Army could use.
You start off your letter of the 8th with "Nothing much to say today"—and sure ’nuff you didn't say much. You're slippin’, Chippie. I can remember the time when you could talk—but I won't go into that here. Your mention of "Inky" and the punkin's reactions made me play with the idea of sending her a pup as a birthday gift thru one of the Phila. pet shops, but on further reflection, I figured it might work a hardship on you and Mom, so I decided against it. - Which reminds me that you've asked me in a couple of your recent letters what I would like for Xmas. I can only suggest that you look up last year's suggestions and act accordingly. Really, sweet, there isn't a thing that I need or want over here, except—yeah, you know! However, I would appreciate it if you'd send my civilian shoes. I think I left a pair or two behind didn't I? No, I'm afraid those rubber soled “sports" wouldn't do, but if you can dig up any others, I'd like to have them. You see, Chippie, my G.I. brogans are kinda beat up, but I can't get a pair to replace them. The replacements we can get are those "rough finish" kind that we can't use for “dress" purposes.
Well, Baby, that's just about all for today—and what a day! It's raining cats and dogs with no sign of a let up. Hope it stops before 6:00, 'cause i'd like to make the first show,
So-long, Sweet. See you tomorrow. Here's a kiss for you and one for the punkin. My love to all - but especially to you.
You will note that this is dated the 16th. Well, today is the 17th. That is right! I didn't write last night. Here it is the 17th and still no decent mail. What am I supposed to think? Last night I had no taste whatever for writing and I have still less this evening. It isn't that I haven't what to write, but that I have no ambition whatever to write when there is no mail.
Last night I felt particularly lousy, too, having become unwell. So I hit the hay at 9:30 and got a good night's rest.
Sunday evening I took Adele over to Betty's house after dinner and she had a grand time with the whole crowd. She has become very much attached to Abe. Adele even watched Natalie get her hair washed and take a bath. She was busy pointing to each part of Natalie’s body, etc. and had Betty, Sarah and I in stitches. When eight o'clock rolled around I headed home. Abe was going to Ben's to get some ice-cream and walked us home. When we got to the house Adele refused to climb the steps. She wanted to go to the candy store with Abe and that was that. She had been rather unruly all day long and had caught several lickings, so not wanting to see her cry again, I relented, let her hold Abe’s and my hand and over she went to the candy store. She headed straight for the can of long stick pretzels, helped herself to one, and then was ready to go back home.
Monday I went to Geutings to pick up her shoes and made an appointment with Dr. Lefkoe for Oct. 27th at 7 P.M. He sent me a letter asking why I didn’t bring Adele in. It arrived yesterday, exactly the day I had set aside to call him. We also had a letter from Gloria, who writes that Jack is due for a furlough home in March and can't decide whether or not to take it. He would come home for three weeks, but then he may have to go back. If he waits his tum according to the rotation plan he may get his furlough and be stationed in the States after the furlough. It's all very problematical, and no doubt, Jack will decided for himself what he should do.
Harry is getting the station, but it won't be ready for another two weeks. He only needs about $600 to get started. The station is larger than Al's and more modern, according to what I've heard. They've decided not to attend her cousin's wedding in N.Y. at the end of this month, for they will be all tied up financially and don't want to make any extra large expenditures at the moment.
Ethel had a very pleasant surprise yesterday. Mary and Ethel from Ottawa came into Philly without a word beforehand. The Wymans were so excited! Mom has finally decided It is time she learned to travel alone and went to Ethel’s alone today. And I see I'm just about to the end of this letter and since I have just one more thing to say - why I think I'll say it. I adore you Phil, darling, and hope very much that I'll hear from you very shortly.
Your Eve
16 October 1944
My Sweet,
Yesterday, that "slight cold" I mentioned a few days ago finally got me down. I managed to finish working out the morning, but after dinner I was a dead pigeon. Without going into any further detail, suffice it to say that I advised Sgt. Murphy that I wouldn't be in to work in the afternoon, and spent the rest of the day in bed. This morning, thank God, while a slight heaviness remained in my chest, I felt much better. I hope that's the end of it. D'ya know, Chippie, that this is the first time I've even been slightly ill since last September/43? I think that's a pretty good record, don't you? Today was a day of alternating heavy showers and bright sunshine. I think we had three spells of each,
Through it all, I was kept pretty busy. Pvt. Stahle, the new clerk, went on furlough today, so expect f'll have my hands full this coming week. Tonight, Sgt. Lafom asked me to take his C.Q. cause he has a date. He'll take mine when it comes up. I didn't mind trading with him ’cause I got a lot to say to you tonight, Chippie, and I can do it much better alone here in the quiet of the Orderly Room. This coming Thursday, when my pass comes up, I intend to spend it right here in camp—catching up on my correspondence. I'm way, way behind, and it's been bothering me. And now to answer your own rather voluminous collection of mail. I have all your letters from 1 Oct. to 8 Oct. in front of me. I don't rightly know which of these I have answered, so excuse me for a bit while I glance through the pile to see what catches my eye. Your "longie" of 3rd Oct. was the only letter received yesterday, but it was the kind I love to get.
Your letter on the 1st Oct. was all about your last trip to W. Philly to see Dot. Glad you had a good time, Chippie, but I don't mind admitting I’m also glad you won't be going again, and coming home alone late at night. As for that jerk that tried to pick you up, I would love to get my hands on him for just a few minutes. The mere thought of such a one even presuming to talk to you fills me with an unreasoning fury. I hate the guts of him and all his lousy kind. Be very careful, honey, that you don't again let yourself open to that sort of thing. I want you to go places, visit your friends etc., but please make it a point henceforth never to go alone, I'm counting on you to accede to my wishes in this respect, Sweet, so keep it in mind, will you? At the end of the letter you say that Ruth walked in with the announcement that the had a roll of film, but not a word in your next seven letters as to whether or not you took any pictures! Well—did you? The last line tickled me. You started to say "Well, baby do-" and then thought better of it and xed out the “do” and changed it to read “baby mine.” Guess you know it's about all your precious life is worth to address your old man as 'baby doll.” How Harry stomachs it is beyond me!
In your letter of the 3rd I learned for the first time that Clara Wagman is related to the Reisners. I'll certainly make it a point to answer her New Year's greeting and letter this Thursday. It was good of her to bring along the Combevita pills. Keep taking them, honey, cause I think they'll do you a world of good. As for trying to get my old job at S & D back when I come home - no, sweet, I don't think so. I haven't told you this, and I hadn’t intended to - just yet, but since you brought up the subject, I want you to know that I have pretty definitely decided exactly what we are going to do immediately after I come home, unless unforeseen circumstances prevent, Does that surprise you? Want to hear my plans? O.K., but don't blame me if I don't have time for anything else tonight. Well, I figured we'd spend a week at home saying hello (and goodbye) to our friends and relatives in Philly, and making all the arrangements for moving our furniture and belongings to Denver. The arrangements, of course, would have to be tentative, the moving people would wait word from us and ship the stuff only after we gave them the O.K. Our arrangements complete, we'd go to New York for another week to say our farewells to our relatives and friends there. Then - westward ho for Denver! Our mode of travel would depend entirely on whether or not we could get a car to make the trip. Nor will we be in any great hurry to get there, for I would very much like to make it a pleasure tour, and spend perhaps a month on the road, sleeping at tourist houses and camps, etc. Whether or not we make it a pleasure trip depends entirely, of course, on whether or not we will be able to buy a car. An any rate, once arrived in Denver, we will put up at a boarding house or hotel until we can find a nice little place to live. Then I'll have a look around the town to explore the possibilities. If things are to my liking and I can find the right place to set up business, I'll go straight away to the Eastman-Kodak people and proposition them. My idea is this (1) To find a two-story building. (2) To set up a photographic supply business on the ground floor. (3) To meet living expenses until such time as Jack and Lenny will be ready to go to work (3) on the second floor, which will be outfitted as a first-class photo laboratory. Now, before you start raising objections, honey, let me point out a few advantages of the scheme. In the first place, Photographic Supplies is a business with a future. More people are becoming interested in all phases of photography each year. Secondly, competition shouldn't be too keen, but especially in place like Denver. Thirdly, by “pooling” the lab the greatest item of expense is cut in half (in three, if I work on still another angle). Thirdly, we shouldn't have to worry too much about money. The initial outlay would consist solely of the lease of the building and fixtures. I should be able to get an adequate stock, if not entirely on credit, then certainly for the price of a small collateral. If Eastman-Kodak do business as most concerns of their stature do, then I’m pretty sure they'll be only too glad to put the stock in on consignment. That end I think I can swing myself. If Lenny and Jack are out of the Army at the same time, we can, between us, under the G.I. Bill of Rights, raise something like $18,000, on long-term loans, which amount is far in excess of what we'd actually need for the enterprise. In the meantime, in the event that Jack and Lenny are still in the Army when I'm ready to start the business, I can get $6000 on my own hook. That amount should be ample to get the first phase of the business going. With that kind of collateral, I could get a stock running two or three times that figure. If, at the end of, say, a year, the business isn't making any money, we would still only have lost, possibly, the cost of the lease of the place. The stock, in that case, would be turned back to Eastman-Kodak, and I could try something else, and nobody would be the loser. But, for the life of me, I can't see why we shouldn't be able to make a success of it. The only real essential for such a venture, would be to have enough cash on hand to be independent of income for at least six months. That is, we should have enough money to pay our rent, and buy our food and other necessities for that period of transition Roughly, it would take, I figure, from $800 - $1000 (of our own). Now, Evvie darling, if you think you detect any flaws in my reasoning, now is the time to air them, ’cause we're not going to waste any time once I get home - that is, of course, if you are game to try it. I can readily understand, honey, that the whole thing may strike you as being a wild gamble, and I could appreciate your fear and reluctance to leave Philly and your family behind to try to make a future for us a thousand miles away, but as long as I have the strength to work (and I am pretty strong, if I say so myself) you need have no fear that you will ever suffer privation in any way, shape or form. With you beside me, Chippie, I feel I can do anything. Mom, of course, would be perfectly welcome to share our lot, either from the first, or later, after we are established. The choice, of course, would be hers to make. The punkin goes with us right off the bat, naturally. Well, Chippie, there it is. That is the plan i've been milling over these many months. Needless to say, I'm more than eager to hear your reaction, criticisms, etc. Please, darling, give it your most deliberate consideration and let me know how you feel about it. After all, I'm only a man. You, besides having the advantage of a woman's intuition, will, no doubt, consider it from a woman's standpoint, and therefore possibly point out things that I haven't even considered. You might talk it over with the Moms, although I can see my Mom (and possibly yours) rebelling at the idea. Nevertheless, it would be a good idea to get them used to the idea, so that when the time for action arrives, the shock will not be so great for them. Let's hear, Baby. Time and room enough to say "I adore you, my Evvie." Love to the punkin and all from
Your Phil
Monday, October 16th, 1944.
Dear Phil:
Evie probably wrote you that I am down in Alexandria, La. paying Irv a visit. By the time you receive this letter, I shall be home. But I thought I would drop you a line to let you know we hadn't forgotten you.
My trip down here was uneventful and unexciting. My mother is taking care of the baby, so of course I'll have to go back.
Alexandria is a very nice town. If I had known it was this nice, I would have brought Hal with me. I go out to camp every night and Irv comes in on weekends. I have a room in a tourist home for $8.00 a week, which includes maid service (when they have one), and washing and ironing privileges. The other people in the house are very nice. I am very friendly with a Major's wife that is staying here. Her name is Frances Cooper and she is from Georgetown, Ohio. She is 36 years old and is one of the nicest people I have ever met. Her husband is in charge of the colored troops at Claiborne and he is going overseas as soon as they return from their 4 weeks bivouac, which he just went out on today. They have a son 14 years old who is at home. Then there is Betty King, a Captain's wife. She is 23 years old, and her husband is Jewish and is 32. They have a 14 month old daughter down here with them. He is a dentist and it is doubtful if he will ever go “over.” Then there is “Johnny” Sigafoss, whose husband Is a flight officer. She is 22 and her husband is 23. She has a 5 year old daughter by a former marriage.
And last but not least—Elayne Mudrack, our landlady. She is 24 years old and has a son 8 years old, also by a former marriage. She has beautiful red hair but weighs at least 200 lbs. if not more. She has been very nice to me, so I can't kick. I wish you could meet her as she's quite a character—and I ain't kiddin’. All in all, we get along pretty well together.
Irv looks fine and makes a neat soldier—however, he made a better civilian. He's lost weight, but mostly in his face. He takes being in the Army real well, which takes quite a load off my mind. Of course it is only a matter of time before he goes “over” too, but we can only wait and hope for the best. He has applied for N.C.O. school (non-commissioned officer) and we are hoping he gets it, as it means more time in the good old U.S.A.
Well, Phil, Thursday is my birthday and I'll be all of 21. I'm kind of getting up in years, but what the hell, time and tide waits for no man (or woman).
How are you? You must be pretty busy. I hope you're still in England. When you answer, send it home as that is where I'll be by that time. That's about all for now, except how did you like the pictures?
