210 E 77th St
NYC 21
Thursday, Jan 2 ‘47
Dear Folks,
I should be in bed.
Here’s your envelope back. What a laugh! I asked the flea brain how it happened + discovered that he put it on in the dark, after buying it in a store where they were out of threes but had a ten.
Friday, Jan 3.
Just got back from a movie with Rogers, Joe, + his friend, Anthony. A “double-date”. Rogers is living in New York at, of all places, 175 Lexington, c/o Miss Coates, same room I had, same little bed. So far everything is rosy. When Miss C. learned that Rogers know me she said, “Oh, that artist. She was sloppy. I hope you’re not an artist” I think they’ll get along all right as Rogers is wise to her and will be very sweet.
B. Duck is coming in tomorrow morning. I don’t know yet what we’ll do.
What a deal Brandford pulled. After generously giving us a vacation Thursday + Friday after Xmas he ups and deducts those 2 days from our pay-checks The three of us cornered him as he was trying to escape + demanded to know the meaning of it. He mumbled something about overhead + couldn’t afford it. Then as we were still not satisfied he said, with tears in his voice, that he knew how we felt, as he had toiled four long years in a horrible printers shop, punching a time clock twice a day with 15-minute lunch hours, etc. Coughing gently now + then to remind us that after all he is a sickly man. We said yes, we understood. That did it. Jon + I are really getting out of there first chance we get.
OW. I’m ruined. Somewhere in the course of the late afternoon I have lost a large envelope containing a prized drawing of a toaster + Photostats of same that I was going to use for samples. Just remembered. It took 3 nights of class-work. It must be fate is against my getting samples together. Now I don’t feel like writing any more.
goodnite.
love, J.
(Moon) I’ll send pop that shirt for his birthday.
Pop – I don’t know whether any of these stamps are new to you or whether they are too battered. I send them all along as received..
Jan 7, ‘47
Dear Folks,
Everything under control here. These gloves I think belong to you.
I have decided not to go to school next year. It includes life drawing.
Found that lost envelope with toaster drawing in a restaurant.
Vishnu came with B. Duck Saturday. He was in a better mood (slightly) than last time. Said he “wouldn’t mind” going up the Empire State Bldg. so we did that.
Hope this thing gets thru the mail.
love, J
8:15 PM Thursday Jan 16 ‘47
Dear Folks,
I started this on a chunk of very absorbent brown wrapping paper but a generous fellow student gave me this purty stuff.
This is the last night of class + we have handed in our notebooks. We are now waiting to be assigned to our next semester classes. Maybe I will go along to see what they look like, maybe not. It is very sad this ending, but it’ll seem good, on the other hand to have time to wash clothes nights.
The prof. liked my notebook, surprisingly. Knocked the thing off in 2 nights. What fun – a real slop-job, to use an E. Hoppman phrase.
Got your letter. Thanx for the calendar. Did those gloves ever reach you? Ugh, that chicken episode. Also received with amusement that short singularly uninformative letter from you both. About time I answered something. Wrote Shrimp last night.
Monday Joe + I accompanied the Grabowskis to the Silver Skates derby at Madison Square Garden. Races, comedy acts, graceful figure skating, more races, barrel jumpers, (all these on skates, of course) + cameramen trying to walk on the ice in their ordinary shoes without falling down. We enjoyed it much. It was an Xmas present from me.
Rogers is having trouble with Miss Coates. Seems miss C. thinks Rogers is sloppy.
Went shopping with Chris Saturday. She’s very low, has no job now + wants to go back home. Bought red plaid slippers, with a sea horse, can’t draw him now. He’s very cute. A gold belt (wide) + a loud plaid jumper dress for a dollar.
Who should call me Friday night but Charley, of the Thundering Herd. I had forgotten all about this delirious character. Better forget him again.
Lila has left + Evelyn Harding is back as secretary. Just like old times.
Well, don’t say I never write.
love, J.
Sunday PM Jan 26th
Dear Folks,
On this gray undecided afternoon I don’t seem to have accomplished much. Had breakfast with Regina this morning after which we went to the Little Church Around the Corner. Then a friend of hers, Ann, came over + we had dinner. Regina + George are reunited.
Yesterday morning at 9:00 I was involved in an interesting dream and not at all ready to hit the deck when I felt a tap on the shoulder or something equally disturbing. Looked up + there stood Jean C. Rogers. Explained that Miss Coates had kicked her out + she was trying to get in the S. Club. After chattering a while she left, but called later to say that she had been down to Twites + he might have a room next week. Probably the same one I had. She seems to be repeating my history.
Yesterday afternoon was beautiful and springlike. Chris + I bicycled in Central park for 2 hours. There are special bicycle paths winding all around . Pedestrians are uncooperative though. It would be perfect up there early on a summer morning. Altogether it was a very successful afternoon. Everything Chris and I plan seems to go smoothly, for some reason, with ideal weather, good timing, cute incidents, + happy endings. I sometimes have my doubts about that Oyster Bay beer party last June in that respect, but who knows? Not I.
I wish the Shrimp could stop off here coming or going on his next vacation. I shall write him to that effect. I’m starting his skating sox. Will mail them home when finished.
I shall keep the eyes open for a rebuilt typewriter of the kind you mention. Wonder if they could be bought at the factory, of they have a factory here.
Have you heard, “Open the Door, Richard”? Hoagy Carmichael is doing it now on the radio. It could hardly be called a song. Now he’s doing “Hugging + Chalkin”. He does it better than anybody.
Did I ever tell you that Joe has a new job? Sheet Metal. No more fruit + vegetable. A lot of variety now, + he is quite happy. They go around + install skylights + other fixtures. He likes his boss and seems to be losing weight somewhat.
Guess I’ll send you that picture I’ve been forgetting. Nice composition, what?
I now scribble the Shrimp.
PS. Did I send you a violets-on-rock flower card?
love, J
I learned to play Monopoly Friday. I always go broke first. Joe always wins. Chris is a wow at it for a beginner. Waste of time.
Thurs PM Feb 6
Dear Folks,
This letter hasn’t a chance. There are four rowdy characters perpetrating a monopoly game nearby and from the radio comes the usual squawky music that these persons thrive on. But wait! Suddenly we hear a line noise of some sort + although I prefer it to what was on before, they turn the radio off.
We have here, Joe, Richard, Jim, + Larry. The last is a new addition, a commercial artist no less. Lettering (poster)
Richard and Jim are wacky, loco, crazy, beserk. Always have been. They operate on the principle that time is wasted if they are not making some sort of noise on it. Usually vocal, very seldom making any sense.
Line noise gone. Radio back on.
Hope the sox arrive. I can’t send ‘em parcel post, taking a chance as usual.
I finally caught on of those colds that are flitting around. Chest job.
Tonight was the Studio Club membership dinner, after which I see by the program they have guest speakers, music, and the opening of the art exhibit, with awards. There are two of my masterpieces up, the Joe and the Girl from photograph I did last winter hopefully for the old geezer who advertised.
Brandford is turning out a wig catalog. It’s up to me to make thirty some wash drawings of hideous hairdos. The printer is waiting. Its fun, + we hope to work out a system of mass production before long.
Yesterday I heard coming from the direction of Brandford’s inner sanctum the unmistakable sound of balloons being blown up, scrunched, and bursting. Had to investigate. He had a magician in there, who, it seems, is one of three people in the world who makes animals out of balloons, and fast. He had constructed a dog + wanted advice about painting a face on this animal. I fixed him up + he gave me the dog. He sits on my lamp
I have a canine reputation around that place anyway. Bark in my spare time.
I hope the Shrimp stops off here on the way back, but don’t suppose he will have time. In case this should happen + this gets you first, I can be reached during the day at BR 9-7254. Nights at RH 4-2174. Or maybe he’s in jail now.
Monopoly game seems to be coming to a head already. Joe seems to be getting the worst of it for the first time.
Hope this has made up in part for all those nice letters from you guys lately.
love, J
Wed PM Feb 12 ‘47
Dear Folks,
Brandford let us out one hour earlier tonight but I don’t know where it went.
I was glad the Shrimp could make it Sunday nite. The train was right out the dot (except that we made the 7:40 first). Hope we didn’t bore him stiff. Drove around looking for a place to eat, finally found one, ate, came back to the club + played triple solitaire until train time. Joe was doing his best to talk the Shrimp’s ear off on matters automotive.
Now it appears that we could have made it quadruple solitaire, as Rogers had that evening taken up residence in the Studio Club and was peeved to learn she had missed out on this. She came skipping into my room Monday night in her large blue slacks, singing out, “I’m a resident!” when asked what the heck she was doing here. She has a single room in the 4th floor. Now things will be gayer maybe. She has been in bed at home for the past week or two with virus pneumonia. The doctor, who was not previously acquainted with Rogers, prescribed whisky in large doses, so the confinement could have been worse.
The Nielsen influence has snaffled into Joe. I must have mentioned to Jon that Joe likes to sing. Joe’s voice teacher, Mr. Lawrence Power, who has sung in Opera all over the world, has been OK’d under the GI bill to teach. So, all of a sudden Jon makes an appointment with Mr. Power, on Tuesday nite for Joe. Now this Mr. Power is strictly for Opera singers, although he will bend sometimes + take in classical singers of a higher grade. I guess Jon wasn’t aware of the fact that poor old Joe is strictly a blues singer, or crooner, after the fashion of Sinatra + Crosby. The difference between an opera singer and a crooner is comparable to the gap between Reubens and Mannie who paints flowers on lampshades (in the eyes of the opera singer). Anyway we bravely went up there last night, and I’ll bet that was the first time “Pennies from Heaven” + “I Wanna Buy a Paper Doll” have been sung at Mr. Power’s piano. They were very nice to us though – as Jon said they would be, he knows them well – and Mr. P gave Joe a pep talk about the audition he will have to give before he can be enrolled in a voice class under the GI Bill. (His wife is also in Opera) He talks as if he plans to have Joe as a pupil, which I don’t think would work out. They being headed in 2 different directions. The poor thing was quite nervous as was I, and kept getting a lump in his throat, being unable to make a sound, forgetting the words + having to have a drink of water. Toward the end, especially without the piano, he nearly got up to his informal standards + Mrs. P said he had absolute pitch, a good ear, etc.
“Pennies from Heaven” made quite an impression on me. Last night I dreamed that not only were pennies falling from the sky, but also nickels, dimes, and quarters. On closer inspection I found them all to be counterfeit.
Thursday PM Feb.20
Dear Folks,
I don’t know whether or not I’m in favor on all this snow we are suddenly getting. The slush had just dried up and blown away from last time, but then maybe Rogers + I will finally get some skiing done. Joe has volunteered to drive us where there is some.
Got your letter + am very relieved to hear that the sox came through.
Happy Birthday, Pop!
A slight (late) remembrance will be along. You’d think I might have done a little better, considering the fact that I’ve had this item since Christmas.
Evelyn + I ate our lunch in the park day before yesterday. Bet we won’t do it tomorrow.
John Grabowski has been sulking since Monday. I don’t know exactly why – it seems as if I should be doing the sulking. He passed the remark that my clothes all look as if they were designed for a 65-year old woman. Dreary, he said, no color. Now there may be a lot of things wrong with my wardrobe but darned if I think that’s one. I told him so + argued back at him quite warmly for a while. Just when I though we had finished with that topic + could discuss other things, he stopped talking + hasn’t spoken to me since, unless asked a question concerning work. This is quite awkward, as we are alone a large part of the day + he usually prattles incessantly. This has happened before but never for long. He is proud of this habit, I believe. Will talk to anyone but me.
There was ice skating in the park last week. It was so warm that nobody thought of going + we had the place nearly to ourselves.
The S. Club is having a dance tonight without me. I’ve been to two too many of those things.
Hope you all are enjoying the best of the best of the best.
love, J
Sun. Mar. 2 PM 7:00
It seems to have been a horrible slushy drizzly day. I haven’t been out in it yet.
I’ve been working at getting together a portfolio. It seems that Miss Peterson wants me to call about a job.
Regina was supposed to go to church with me + then to dinner today but no call from her so I slept until noon.
Went to the midget auto races last night in a huge armory up in the Bronx with Joe, Chris, + Joe’s friend Paul. They weren’t as exciting as the outdoor ones as once in the lead, a car usually stays there. The whole place was enveloped in a dense blue haze.
Friday nite there was a Church Social. Card playing + refreshments, very small crowd. Rather fun though. I learned to play hearts and we ended up with an arrangement called pigs + hogs which involved the putting of fingers to noses, becoming a pig 3 times + then a hog, not to be talked to, etc. etc.
Grabowski is voluble once more. Tuesday morning he suddenly broke the silence + I learned that I had sorely insulted him that afternoon a week before. I assured him that I had not to my knowledge + he said, there you go – you say things when you’re mad that you don’t even remember. I said I wasn’t mad, we had a discussion about my clothes, I disagreed with his remarks, more things were said, + I considered the business ended. Furthermore I did not insult him + if so, what did I say + he said you said so many things I can’t remember ‘em all. You were muttering away there + although I got every fourth word I knew it was an insult. Any decent person would have apologized + that was why he had been silent so long. He says I said his opinion didn’t count because he was just a guy that sat in there by me 8 hours a day. That was the crowning insult. Now that the whole think is over I’ve remembered what I really said but best not mention it to him – I said that his remarks were just his opinion + at least he was lucky he didn’t have to live with my clothes – other than the 8 hours a day that he sat in there + then I muttered something about it being maybe 9 hours counting the lunch period. Horrible foolish mess, but my conscience is clear.
This “Hubba Leeba” or “Oh Baby Lee-Bob” is listed as “Hey Bob-a re-Bop” + is a corruption of a Harlem hit polished up a bit. It came out last spring. Maybe I forgot to tell you – last Xmas I inquired in several music stores for a Decca Catalogue + was told they couldn’t even get one for themselves. I’ll try again. By the way, what was the typewriter model you want, a portable Royal or a table model? There’s a “rebuilt + guaranteed” store in 42nd St.
That speckled green (or yellow?) material I like. Bet I can’t match it though. Will try, however.
Chris + I found a sled up in the park with a runner lying beside it. Joe’s fixing it + maybe we’ll get some sledding yet.
Jon Nielsen invited Joe + me to the play the Dobbs Ferry group is putting on in which he had a very minor part. There wasn’t any night we could conveniently go but he managed to obtain the last 2 seats in the house for Thursday nite so we had no alternative. Joe didn’t want to go. His suit was at the cleaners, he had just smashed his radiator as the result of a taxi-drivers stopping in the middle of the street ahead of him. There were a couple of errands he should have done that nite + besides he was rather ill anyway. (I don’t see how he survives anyway, my suggestion that he eat less starches having resulted in a diet of coffee, cake, + just a few strips of spaghetti) Anyway the old bear didn’t feel too sharp + besides I was 15 minutes too slow getting ready + the roads were slippery + he was broke + I mean flat. Also we took a couple of wrong turns + had to retrace somewhat. We were late getting there but we did get there. Then the pay off. The ticket taker had no record of the reservations. Neither had the lady in charge. There were no seats. She very generously let us stand in a corner of the balcony, which gave us a very good view. The play was terrific – “The male animal” + we enjoyed it, especially the part where Nielsen as a newspaper reporter was thrown bodily off the stage. He wasn’t’ there long. If I’d been looking at my program I’d have missed him.
Finally got to use my skis in the park, or did I tell you that?
Rogers is very depressed. Has no one to go around with + nothing to do. Seems to me she keeps busy enuff. This is always a dull season anyway.
Say woof to Fleabag for me.
love, J
9:45 PM Saturday March 15 ‘47
Dear Folks,
What was to be shampoo + bath night turns out to be letter-writing night.
Got your misplaced letter. That’s nothing. I often find myself addressing letters to Mrs. Herbert Campbell 210 E 77th St. NYC.
Isn’t it funny. I just noticed that the Shrimp + I both have a Lenox in our address. Mine’s in the postmark.
Rogers got the Emerson on Tuesday and was Wild with joy. He is about the cutest yet + the verse made a hit. I wanna take him to work. He looks a wee bit like Huprey Yaples I thought.
This typewriter place I investigated advertises by sandwich sign walking up + down 42nd St.
It’s a little 2 by 4 office tucked off in the corner of a gloomy little building with a lot of detective agencies and wig manufacturers. He says he doesn’t often get Royals. Won’t take the Oliver in exchange. Perhaps I well stumble across more reputable place sometime.
Today, March 15, the last day one can send in one’s income tax report. I received already my refund - $12.04, which I shall put on my spring-suit savings. This year I shall get a super –suit, with a little bustle back.
We liked “The Iceman Cometh”. It was very long + not spectacular in stage effects, as it always took place in the same bar, but there were interesting psychological twists + the acting was terrific. It wasn’t until we got outside + I saw a close up on the bill-board that I realized that the leading young man had been played by Joyce Crabtree, of S.U. fame. I remember him well, recalling a time when he gave B. Duck and me directions on how to find the State Tower Building. He’s changed his name to Paul.
I now have tickets to Bizet’s “Carmen” at the Metropolitan. Must see one opera before the season closeth.
It is now 12:45 and I’ve just returned from a bridge-walk with my Bear. This time we did the Tri-Boro Bridge, a miles long thing with lovely view of the sky-line. Last week it was the 59th St. Bridge, a creaky old swaying spooky thing. The Bear likes to walk on bridges because there’s never anybody around and he can bellow loudly. As yet the voice lessons haven’t been started.
I asked Brandford for a raise. He said, “Don’t worry, I have not forgotten you” which is what he said 6 months ago. I do not expect it now, as the wig catalog flopped.
Still no Decca albums available.
Did I mention the fact that Ted of the church group is back from California? His ride that took him from Cal. to Texas pulled a gun on him and mad off with his typewriter + suitcase full of clothes. I was supposed to have a date with that character tonite, but I got a letter stating that the snow is deep in Vermont + they are sugaring off so he couldn’t come down. I don’t feel too bad, so I had a very nice bridge-walk…..
The Y.P. group is quite lively lately. A bunch of good badmintoners have developed.
What kind of cloth do you call that nubby yellow? Must it be just that shade?
I hits the hay.
love, J
Sun. AM March 23 ‘47
Dear Folks.
There’s nothing inspiring about this day. In fact phooey on it.
That 2-kid letter was a dandy. I have to read those things by sections. One before supper, one during, + one after, sometimes finishing later in the evening.
Last night I attended a function that you guys would have enjoyed. It was the annual Spring Flower Show, held at the Grand Central Palace on Lexington. There were four floors of this – whole model gardens + works, old-fashioned + modern, bushes, banks + mountains of blooms of all kinds, although they seemed to favor roses, rhodedendrons, azaleas + orchids. The only face I don’t recall seeing is that of the hollyhocks, but he must have been there somewhere. There were endless tables + lighted niches of flower arrangements, some quite striking. Vases + accessories were for sale. All model rooms + landscaping were life size. We had to skim through a little too fast, as there was only an hour til closing time. The only incongruous note about the whole procedure came at 10:30, when the guards abruptly started yelling, “Get out, everybody! No, this way! Get those people out!” + practically pushed us bodily into the street. A flower show is supposed to be an airy delicate thing.
The admission was steep, $1.50 apiece, which hurt especially since the Bear + I am both broke, I having just bought a new suit + the Bear, a set of pulleys or something. This suit is just about the slickest, chick-est, most expensive looking of any outfit I have ever picked up. It is gray mixture, a perfect fit without alteration. Got it at Klein’s for a sum surprisingly small for such a well done suit. This will be the Easter Outfit of the Century, with my 2-year old winter hat (black) rejuvenated by a huge plaid ribbon. Incidentally, not necessarily for Easter, I picked up a Royal Stuart Dress Plaid brassiere.
Now that Rogers lives here, I see even less of her than before. Her grandmother is on the verge of death + she is probably at home this weekend but I shall stop by anyway before going down to dinner.
Moon, with all those activities, you make me feel like a sluggard (?). Guess I’d better start acting in some direction.
love J.
There are a number of Chinese girls at the Studio Club, all in native dress usually, I, too have wondered.
Sat. AM April 5 ‘47
Dear Folks,
This is a day for hibernating, which is what I did until about 1:30. Rain is descending in nightly torrents. I wonder if it intends holding on till tomorrow?
I haven’t accomplished much this week, as I have been laid up with a cold and all the ramifications thereof, as Nielsen would say. Started Sunday night and is still going strong.
Thursday nite was to have been a large event. The Bear and I had tickets to “Carmen” at the Metropolitan Opera House no less. Last week of the season, last chance till next winter. My first opera + a good one to begin on. I got the tickets a month or so ago + have been gleefully anticipating.
Now for the other side of the story: Ever since I have been going to church here, Dr. Hersey has been after me to join. I could just was well have done it last year, but didn’t bother, + later found that my name had been printed on the program with the other new members. So this year, feeling remorse at standing him up before, I promised I would join, not realizing until too late that Thursday was the only night this could happen, Thurs. April 3, the night of Carmen. Needless to say, I had some miserable moments. Finally deciding this was my punishment for not coming last year, and sold the tickets. (very easy thing to do) “Twould seem as if this were enough in the way of chastisement, but, no – just before Dr. H. called the new members (about 12-14 of us) to the platform, one of the uncontrollable coughing spells that happen about twice with my colds, always in a public place, started to make itself known. I was putting forth a mighty effort to squelch it, but was not always successful. Luckily I had cough-drops, + Alice helped me when I ran out of Kleenex, but by the time we reached the platform I must have been a sad sight. People probably thought – poor girl, she is in the throes of a mighty emotion.
Things have been very fuddled at Brandford’s. Spend most of my time waiting for him to come back + give me my next assignment. Investigated a new job that advertised in the NY Times. It’s a lovely location downtown, nice man, good salary, but type layout, paste-up, and all that.
The ribbon sample is from the 2 yards I got to trim my black had for Easter. Heh.
I wanna come home this month or next for a weekend. Should I wait till May 30, when we get Friday off, I hope? That’s a long way off, tho. May I bring the Bear along again? Crocuses must be croaking about now, no?
Drop me a line about activities when activities permit.
love, J
8:00 PM Wed. Apr. 16 ‘47
Dear Folks
Just washed my hair and am spending a quiet evening at home writing letters, washing stockings + touching up a couple of oil paintings.
I must apologize for the lack of letters late. I’ve been recuperating from Washington. Guess I didn’t say much on that big card, probably due to the fact that we hadn’t been anywhere yet. First we climbed to the dome of the Capitol Building. Outside the Capitol were six cherry trees bursting with blooms. “Fooey” we said, did we come all the way down here to see only six cherry trees? Are these the famous Washington cherry trees? There are more in our own backyard. Anyway, we took a number of colored pictures by there trees + later discovered the cherry trees are on the other end of town along the Potomac.
In the Penn Station, getting on our train, we ran into a young gent named Vincent, a very pleasant, well mannered + widely experienced creature for one so young, + he talked a blue streak all the way down. Didn’t stop once. He made plans to meet us at the White House at 11:00 and surprisingly enough, he did just that. From there we walked over to the Washington Monument, from there across the river by bridge, and walked around the large cherry blossom lake (about 3 miles), taking pictures, to the Jefferson Monument. We then went up on the highway + took a cab to the Zoo. Walked through every building + all around the grounds. Then got a bus to the Washington Monument again. My feet were beginning to protest, but we wanted to see the Lincoln Monument. “Can you walk just a little farther?” said Vincent. “Yes, a little”, we said. “It’s just past those Navy Buildings”, he said, + we were off. I believe that stretch of Navy Buildings was 2 ½ miles long at least. We finally made it and recuperated at the base of the monument as the city lights went on. I persuaded my companions to take a bus back to the Capitol (about as far as from Athens to Waverly) + we ate supper. Then we walked all around the Capitol grounds, saw the Supreme Court, Congressional Library, House of Rep. + all those things, except that Vincent didn’t know which was which, in spite of having lived there 15 years. Did I sleep on the 4-hour trip back! What astounds me is that Regina’s feet never hurt, she said. She was wearing these – (sketch of high heels) and I wore these (sketch of ballet flat).
There are many nice things about Wash. One is that you can sit anywhere, but anywhere and not get dirty. Also taxis are much cheaper. And you don’t leave tips in drugstores. It isn’t a very democratic set-up, Evelyn H. tells me + Vincent’s tales bore this out.
End of travel department.
Go after that play-acting. It sounds like fun.
Forsythia is out here. I have a little bunch of it in my copper pitcher. We also have robins and magnolias in the park.
Nice about the Shrimp, isn’t it. I refer to the varsity business. I plan to attend one of these rows.
Should I get some bright orange writing paper? Could you use some?
Well, now to wash stockings.
love, J
Wed. PM April 30 ‘47
Dear Folks,
At last!
I’ll have you know those “explosive bluish” things on that other note-paper were thistles.
Enclosed find one of the reasons why this letter is delayed. We’ve sanded the paint all off, with a resulting mottled effect. (Off in spots, I should say.) It seems that, during the course of its existence, this “car” has been: white, black, gray, blue, black again, pink, and maroon. The vermillion is red lead touch up. This time it will be all black with chromium colored chromium. We hope to have it rolling respectably in time for the Henley Regatta. There are a few internal repairs to be made yet. Note snazzy wooden bumper and windshield decoration inflicted by me.
Did I tell you my room-mate went home and Alice is here for the week? It seems the woman whose private home she was graciously invited to live in (Long Island) became insanely jealous of Alice. Suspected her of vamping her husband, a middle-aged. bald-headed old geezer who walks with a limp. Fantastic, of course. The atmosphere became hot + heavy + Sunday Joe + I went over + helped her move all in one fell swoop. Some gals at church have a room for her after Dot comes back.
Thunder and lightning tonite. Chris + I got caught in the rain Sunday, too. Went for a walk up in Westchester County. (It’s lovely) White Plains, the town was called. We came to a large fenced-in Estate, with trees + fields + brooks. There was a young chap with a pink butter-fly net roaming about near the outskirts, so Chris hailed him + asked what all this was. “Bloomingdale”, he explained, a mental institution. We talked for half an hour through the fence about his studies of insects, fungus, trees, birds, etc. and his father who was a preacher + his mother who was a painter. All the while I thought he was a patient, + wondered why. We later discovered he deliberately entered by a hole in the fence, to find better bugs. He plans to study forestry at Syracuse, which would really put him in line for Bloomingdale. Then it rained + we ran.
The Bear comes to the Tuesday night think now. He’s good at ping-pong, but had never played badminton. Out of the clear sky, he grabs a racket + proceeds to play a better game of badminton than I, who have been struggling with it lo these two years. He makes himself right at home + is appreciated by one + all.
Don’t you worry, Moon, about these pearl Mother-hearts. I doubt if any offspring of yours is so un-acquainted with you as to do a thing like that.
When does Shrimp row at Cornell? I wish he would be home Memorial Day weekend, but I guess Exams interfere. I’m gonna try to get up then. Home to sneak Thursday off + if we leave about 5:00 PM with luck we might get home in time for bed? That would give 4 days. The Bear send hello.
I wrote the Shrimp, + now maybe the room-mate. Hope you are all happy.
love. J
11:00 PM Tuesday, May 6
Dear Folks,
A quickie.
Just washed the hair and am exhaling after a toughish day, or series of days.
It seems that the Bear is very sick with something in the way of a strep infection, came down with it Friday (picking a very good weekend, what a rainy cold mess it was!) and needs somebody on hand most of the time to see that he wakes up for his sulfa pills, to run errands, fetch this + that, call the doctor, take temperatures, etc. etc. etc. I didn’t go to work today. Guess I can tomorrow, tho, Walter will take charge tonite. The poor Bear has a splitting headache, moans + groans, is feverish + delirious sometimes.
An embarrassing thing happened Sunday morn, in the wee small hours, a nightmarish thing. Alice was sleeping in my room-mate’s bed for the last night, the RM having planned to return on Sunday. We were snoozing soundly when who should walk in but Dot, my room-mate, early. “There’s somebody in my bed”, said Dot. She hadn’t got my letter about this matter + was taken by surprise. It’s all okay now. Alice has moved to West 76th St. temporarily. She left with me a nice wool jersey (see sample) size 16, made thusly It is not my color + if you could make any use of this excellent article I shall bring it home with me. Lovely material, doesn’t sag.
How I wish I could see that delayed forsythia + those grape hyacinths. Ah me – oh well.
love, J.
Thursday PM May 16th
Dear folks,
Washing being done, + the R.M. not yet back from baby-sitting, I do this.
We are all eagerly anticipating the weekend. Joey has finally decided to drive the heap + Rogers will go along + visit an old Fairfield Cottage room-mate, Lucy, who lives in Boston, + whose mother has invited us to dinner. There is some talk of Joe’s pal Al, (just back from Iceland) going along for the trip. Poor Shrimp will be confused by this motley crew + no doubt flabbergasted. You should see that disgusting car. Words + sketches can’t do it justice. Ugh.
We plan to start forth at the crack of dawn, but the question is, will the Bear be able to wake up at that hour. He often sleeps through 3 alarm clocks on ordinary work days.
It better not rain.
I have a favor to ask. The usual one. Will you make me a dentist date for Friday or Saturday of Memorial weekend? I regret that this must be done + am aware of the difficulties involved. I hope to be home Thursday, but can’t swear to that.
They still call me Hopalong Campbell. This is probably the same foot you had. The trouble is here the swelling is on top + seems to involve the second toe. I’ve been favoring it with an elastic bandage which makes walking easier.
I’m an illustrator now. Brandford has a magazine called “Bronze Confessions” in mind. This is published in the South somewhere and the illustrations are putrider than one could imagine without seeing ‘em. Of course they pay practically nothing, but Brandford is used to working for same, + is submitting samples. Nielsen did one, + I started one without reference, which never pans out. Chucked it + started another with several swipes to work from. It looks much better so far. “Twould be fun if he landed that account + good practice. Mr. B is even foggier than usual these days what with moving. We very seldom see him around. Cleaners, painters, plumbers, window-washers, installation installers of all kinds continually are coming around to offer their services. There is a publication through which they hear of prospective movers.
Moon, what do you want for your Birthday?
The R.M. returns, send her regards + so to bed.
love, J
May 25, ‘47
Full page sketch of the new Branford office, with the following explanation:
Key-
x. Necktie Salesman – despairing
1. Evelyn, directing
2. man working
3. Jon Nielsen, changing into his work pants. We’re leaving this poor thing behind. Last seen minus a table, using instead a high pile of magazines + surrounded by paraphanalia. He can’t pay his rent. Will work at home.
4. John Grabowski
5.Man with table
6. Rogers, stopped by out of a job right now
7. Me
8. Oscar
Mr. Brandford, as usual is conveniently absent. We finally did get everything moved to our new place + now it seems the carpenters won’t get thru there for 2 weeks. It’s thoroughly redecorated, all curved plywood panels, archways, + fluorescent lighting How Bradnford thinks he can swing this I do not know. It will prove interesting.
It’s raining as usual. (this is Sunday PM) I have wasted a weekend, except for a dose of ironing + mending. Next weekend will be different. Can’t wait. Seems as if this has been the longest stretch yet. Nearly 6 mos. Hope the rain stops by then. Am I correct in reading that MIT came in second at Cornell? Or was that a different race?
Gotta hit the hay. I’ll see you Friday morning and will it seem good!
The foot seems to have made a recovery, mostly. Elastic arch support helped.
Blah, what weather.
Well, ta-ta – you may or may not hear from me again.
love, J
Sun Am June 8, 2010
Dear Folks,
I am waiting in the station for a train to Baldwin L.I. The original plans were thus: Joe + I were to drive out have dinner there, + then the 3 of us spend the day at Jones Beach. But Joe had to work today on a car + we are having the usual rainy cold weekend, so I had anticipated a day of much needed mending at home. However, Rogers called + began a vivid description of how she was all alone this weekend with strawberry shortcake, steak dinner, roaring fire in the fireplace + all the Sunday papers. Bring your knitting, she said. So, weak thing that I am, I wait in the station for a train to Baldwin.
The Shrimp said he might be in N.Y. tomorrow. If he is, and if it stops raining, we’ll go to the midget auto races.
Did you get those small items I sent + are they okay? Is that enough tape? You’ll be getting the cloth for one of those dresses soon. I have studied that sheet and can’t find any yardage for the dotted peplum suit-dress. I was probably told, but it has left me now. 5 yds. is correct for the cape suit, is it not/
Chris + I went slumming yesterday + out of a pile of shoes in a basement I fished a pair of red suede numbers marked $1.98. They are of a type that is made to sell for $5- or $6-. They are very comfortable but with too high a heel to wear with the Bear. If for any reason you are at all interested in these lemme know. They could be dyed. 7 ½ AA. Do not feel obligated tho, as I can use ‘em.
This weather is so discouraging. All week the sun shines when there is no time for the working person to get out in it. Then, weekends, this! I guess it’s making up for last summer which was nice. (I’m on the train (LIRR) now, as you can see. (meaning by the sloppy writing – ac)
Brandford had a big party Wednesday + the place is officially open. He got us all together Friday + told us from now on things will be different. We’ll have to really work, but hard. He’d better come across with a few supplies first. In the past we have spent ½ of our working time passing the jar or white paint back + forth + looking around for a ruling pen, running out to buy paper, trying to collect items from Branford for said paper, + waiting for Brandford to come back from heaven knows where to tell us what to do next. There’d better be a little system now but not too much as I’d have nothing to gripe about.
Enough of this scribble.
love, J
Sun. June 22
Dear Folks,
I am in a vile mood. I let myself get talked into going to a doctor, the one nearby that takes care of the Studio Club’s ailing. For this grippy sore throat, which seemed to be hanging on, probably because I stayed in bed with it instead of going on as usual. I’ve had a million like it. He gave it a long name, some horrible kind of tonsillitis, worst case he’s seen. Says I’ll need shots of penicillin + stay in bed into the middle of next week, don’t even get up to go to the bathroom. What does he think I have, nursemaids? Come back Sunday for another shot which I just did + he was positively nasty. Can’t even answer a question decently. What burns me up most is that this is the first, and probably the last warm weekend of the summer + here I an lying around all groggy from these D*#% injections + can’t even sleep because I’m too woozy from those $2.00 pills to stand up long enough to get tired. And if I’d let nature take its course, I’d be cruising around out in the country somewhere $30- richer + able to work next week. I am very bitter. Sometimes it seems better to let the whole works go to rack + ruin than try to patch up what’s left.
There. I feel somewhat relieved but still vile.
Everybody has been here. My room-mates home today + Teddy + Chris was up yesterday, bringing a box of cookies, Kleenex, + a bouquet of luscious yellow snapdragons, purple iris, baby’s breath, + pink tiny pholoxish stuff. Entertained me all afternoon + went to the movies with my Bear last night. I expect maybe she’s keeping him busy today, too. I believe she’ll be a good influence on the bear. He brought a big bag of fruit over last nite.
Strangely enough, just before your letter came yesterday I had been reading about these mount-a-mowers in an ad in Colliers. It says they are adjustable. Is this one adjusted as far as it will go?
I wear that blue + white nightie you made now. It is very cute on + admired by room-mate.
I believe I shall try making up that green dot myself as a stunt, in a simple pattern won’t be much loss if I mess it up. Glad to hear the other stuff’s okay.
Linen sounds fine for Peggy if it’s what she needs. I might be there over the 4th at that. Could we paint her a pair of miniatures or something?
I Hate Doctors and Dentists!!
Congrats to the Shrimp for making it through the term, to Moon for slaying the Highwayman + to Pop for keeping sane throughout. Also to me for winding up this messy letter. I shall now invent a way to knit lying down.
love, J
Wed. PM July 23
Dear Folks,
This paper is Regina’s. She goes in for snazzy stationery.
Enclosed find evidence of a Nielson’s Jersey Milk Chocolate bar I am eating. Present from the room-mate. I guess I mentioned the fact before that she is from Canada.
I have just finished a large washing, which is hung about the room, mostly, as I have no desire to be parted from it by light fingered individuals.
When I left the Studio Brandford was in the midst of giving some sort of shindig for his associates + customers. Grabowski was mixing drinks.
From the direction of Second Ave. comes the blaring of an election truck. The same characters that cheered for Marcantonio last year at this time are now applauding some red-faced blow-hard bellowing something to the effect that they should “defeat Marcantonio’s stooge Kelley!” Walking down First Ave just as soon as you have stepped out of earshot of one truck you find that you are approaching the territory of another one. It’s unavoidable that sometimes they overlap.
I don’t know where my Bear is tonight. He was supposed to come over for me to help him write letters to the Veteran’s Administration about his feet or something. He is very discouraged. His job isn’t panning out financially and he’s seriously considering taking up ditch-digging to earn a little money. Most of his present work has been just hard manual labor lately anyway.
Grabowski and I ate lunch in a restaurant across the street today + watched a ball-game by television. This was my first experience with television + not a very good one, as there was something wrong so that the batter would seem to be doing a rumba step and the umpire would walk along three feet to the rear of his own legs.
I hope Moon is feeling better.
Don’t forget that check-up.
I close.
love, J.
undated – but a note penciled in says July ’47 after Sayre accident. - ac
Dear Folks,
Here’s the money order. That really came in handy. The $1.55 is for the petcocks the Shrimp picked up. Was that really Moore’s car?
The Bear says hello.
For some reason I rather enjoyed our sojourn at Banana Curve. I learned what an intake manifold is + other useful things, also got a fast ride in a new Plymouth, a ten-ton truck, a pick-up truck, a close-up inspection of Max Cohen’s graveyard.
On Susquehanna St. Monday I ran into L. Gore, who showed me photos of his mural. He says he has a portrait prospect lined up for me. I said I’d be glad to oblige, any time.
Bill has either quit or was disposed of. Guess he wanted more than Brandford could pay.
It’s getting late, so goobye (sic) now.
love, J.
Sat Aug 2 4:00 PM
Dear Folks,
Worked half a day today + now the Bear and I are stretched out on a hill in the Park. I am being amused by 2 little blonde girls dressed alike who are wandering around in search of a “potato bug”. They have been joined by a small brownish boy of about the same age. He is drooling, but seems very happy. The Bear is immersed in a “Popular Science’
Tomorrow we are to have dinner with the Grabowski’s in Brooklyn, after which we are to drive to some part of New Jersey where there is a golf course John wants to play. For some reason we are not looking forward to this at all. It’s necessary in order to keep peace throughout the day. I hope it does.
Does Mrs. Perry actually like that portrait? I don’t know what to say. I’m never averse to picking up a little cash, but I don’t particularly wish to be connected with that picture. What do you think? I am in a portraiting mood. Next week I’m gonna paint Danny, and another good idea has occurred to us: In New Rochelle (an upper-crust village) lives an ex-teacher of Joe’s who has a very good face + would cooperate. She knows everybody + is always entertaining. She + the Bear are great friends. A free portrait of her might be a good move. I called Portraits Incorporated + they will require photos of 3 or 4 of my samples before they decide whether they want to see the real thing. I think I’ll try out my color film on this.
Certainly is nice up here.
Oh yes, Mr. Gore’s landscapes. From the black + white print they looked quite good + suitable for their purpose
One more week with my room-mate. I was wrong. She’s from St. Thomas Ontario, not Toronto. She went to the beach with us last weekend.
The Bear says hello.
love, J.
Thurs PM 9:00
Dear Folks,
At last a real letter wrote by the hand from me to you.
What a day! Yesterday was the same + the man promises another one tomorrow. I’m gonna wear my sundress to work. I think it was up to 97 here.
Guess the last time I wrote was the Saturday before the golfing trop. WE had fun that day, all of us, John + his brother –in-law and the Bear + I were more or less green-horns esp. me. It was a midget course, about half the size of a real one. Didn’t break any clubs, but mutilated the course somewhat. We may go again. Here is a game, however, that I refuse to take seriously. As long as I am indisputably punk it can be fun + not the desperate struggle it’s made out to be by the guy that draws Caspar Milquetoast.
John + I are really putting Brandford Studios on its feet. I kinda hate to see the old boy come back, it’s so good to be working with somebody that gives an instruction you can understand instead of mumbling and evading the issue. We know just what jobs are on hand, when they’re promised + what’s to be done, straight from the customer. Brandford acts as a sort of insulation between the customer + artist. Even Charlton seems more happy with us this week.
The Bear is making things. Gadgets. Walter is mopping the floor. Tonite I intend to start one of 2 small oil paintings of dogs as a wedding present for my room-mate. We’re going down there next weekend, Easton, Maryland.
Joey is discouraged. Can’t get a raise, had a chance to go into garage + repair business with Danny, but can’t get a G.I. loan. Walter may get rid of the apartment + then he’ll hafta find a place to live.
If “The Miracle on 34tth St.” comes to the valley, it should be seen. Very refreshing.
Can I horn in for Labor Day weekend with the Bear if old Betsy is still working? Will you all be there then – when does Shrimp hafta go back? love, J
Thursday PM Aug 20
Dear Folks,
It’s nice + cool tonight. Tomorrow will probably be boiling hot. They’ve been alternating lately.
I seem to have a room-mate. When I got home from work I found in the room two leather suitcases with transatlantic stickers + a tag inscribed “Madam Larmurier”.
Also there is a frilly taffeta umbrella with a Parisian look about it. I shall make deductions: the bags have apparently seen use, but the stickers are new + recent. Looks as if she’s come over for the first time. Probably speaks very little English. Maybe a war bride with a French name. Maybe a young thing about to study something. She’s no fuddy-duddy, that I know by the umbrella. I’m always wishing I had studied French.
You’d never guess where the Bear spent today. Syracuse University! His boss was called up there to do a bit of sheet-metal work, so of course the bear goes too. (Seems kind of silly, transporting a whole sheet metal repair shop from New York to Syracuse, but that’s the job. He didn’t seen to be too clear on the exact location of this operation. It’s a huge skylight. I named over some buildings + he stopped me at Bourne Hall. Then he said something bout tearing down something. That would be the gym. We’ll get particulars on this when he returns, which should be tonight. Wish I could have gone along, but am rushing some illustrations for Bronze Confessions. He promised to visit Crouse for me. What an odd coincidence! Almost seems as if something significant should come of it, I dunno what.
How comes the old Shrimp with his ditch digging? How’s the Buick? When do classes start?
Are you guys ever gonna come down + visit me? There’s a play you should see, “Brigadoon” or did I say that before?
I hope they finish that skylight today as we’re supposed to start for Easton mid tomorrow night. As a wedding present for Dot I painted two little dog heads (from photos) which came out very well. One sorrowful golden cocker spaniel against a blue background, + one widely yawning mutt against pink. Narrow gold frames. Everybody loves ‘em. I could sell those things fast.
News of the season! Joey has a new suit. Medium brown + becoming.
I gotta do a sizeable washing now.
love, J.
Sun PM Sept 14
Dear Folks,
Guess you’re all home by now. It looks as if you may have had excellent weather for the trip. Did you get to Canada?
Wow! Bagpipe music over the radio!
Did I tell you I have a permanent room-mate now? One Elizabeth Hood. A cute and amusing number, studying dancing - very easy to live with.
I was wrong about that bagpipe music. They promised it, but instead I hear some bag piping (pardon the wretched pun please).
Any peculiarities of handwriting are due to the fact that I’m on my back writing against my perpendicular lap.
Today the Bear + I saw a ball game. Yankees vs. St. Louis.
(there go the bagpipes)
Because of the recent baseball enthusiasm in Brandford Studios + John’s explanations, I have got to understand baseball quite well. Shrimp helped last spring + he will recall my ignorance at that time. The Yankees won yesterday.
John may be passing cigars tomorrow. Brandford has hired a new art director to occupy the position John was hoping for. It’s Mr. Niech, who was with Fox Features until he was stricken with Pneumonia + paralysis last winter. He still limps a bit, but is competent. Must be desperate to take this on. He’s as confused as the rest of us right now. I hope he makes good. The whole business is a big laugh as far as I’m concerned, + I shall lose no sleep on it.
Portrait business looks promising. Made contact with American Portrait Artists last week. The guy seemed interested, so I had photographs made from 3 of my paintings + took ‘em around to the place. It’s like Portraits, Inc., only I think not quite as well paying. Might have a better chance of getting a start there. I’ll take photos to Portraits, Inc. also.
Joe’s friend Danny claims to have seven prospects lined up for smell hour + a half oil sketches like the ones I made of Danny + his wife. I’ll probably get between 5 + $10- for these quickies.
Had lunch with cousin Victoria. She is a very pleasant person. Invited me to visit her in Scranton, paint the baby, herself + husband.
We’re still trying for the Shrimp’s pants. We have not forgotten you. Hope to send the OZ book at same time.
I got a beautiful pair of black flats.
Rogers is in town again.
Did you see B. Duck, Shrimp?
I guess she just missed the rest of youse. I must hit the sack.
love, J
What’s this about Destiny pushing my best bear out of the picture?
Sept 23, 1947
Dear Folks,
I have a superlative letter from Pop here, in need of answering.
I keep wondering about the Shrimp. Did he and old “Sport Blue” ever make Boston? I keep trying to imagine that color. Is it similar to the original blue, on the oil-stove?
I’m glad a good time was had at the convention. Alice tells me some of her relatives were there. Loubris is the name, in case you recall meeting any such, although, the chances, I realize, are slim.
The Philadelphia week-end is safely past, + I think Betsy will now have a rest. We left early Sunday, got there in 3 hours, + stayed until about 9:00 PM. The Bear + Vishnu chatted at great length about India. Duck, Vishnu, + I drove out to an Arboretum somewhere, past miles of large stone mansions. Everything in that part of the country seems to be made of stone. Barns, outhouses, dog houses, etc. It turned out to be a beautiful warm day. Later I went with Joe to visit his various friends and now I am painting one of their offspring from a photograph. It’s turning out quite well, as she is a cute little critter. This is a gratis job, as are all I’ve done yet. This can’t go on forever, Danny says he has 20 paying prospects lined up + I must get at them pronto.
It turns out that John Quinlan at whose studios the Bear studies voice, was Frankie Sinatra’s teacher. He has lessons three nights a week.
What lovely music is coming over my room-mates radio. She’s asleep. It’s still Elizabeth.
Suddenly we have mid-winter weather. Seeing a bright-blue day outside, I stroll out in a mere dress. Don’t get far. This is fur-coat weather.
Did that OZ book arrive? I hope it’s not too late.
Happy New Year.
Mr. Niech, our new assistant art director is a loafer. He’s there to give advice, which he is unable to do until he finds out what’s going on + why. Since nobody there can tell him what or why, he can not advise, and therefore cannot direct, so merely relaxes.
I’ve gained ten pounds, mostly aft, since the studio club started selling compulsory meal tickets.
Hope Moon has rested up form the vacation enuff to scribble a line.
Is there anything you’d like me to shop for?
love, J.
Friday PM Oct 3, 1947
Dear Folks,
I have spent the entire evening letting down hems –all my hems, as far as they will go, which is usually about 7/8”. Even the good old baloney dress.
Jimmy Durante is rasping away on the radio.
I guess you saw B. Duck this week. I envy her the nice weather she’s having. Sounds rather good, the position she has lined up in Phila.
Tomorrow I’m going to try to sigh up with Portraits, Inc. No jobs have happened yet from the other one. He did have my redheaded girl photographed in color, which is a rather healthy sign, might be.
I like that color the Shrimp has on his car.
I’m sorry you feel that way about Joe. I understand the Shrimp’s quoted remark, as I had those same exact feelings when I first met the old boy. I dunno what happened, but somewhere along the line we managed to get on the same wave length + I don’t have that much trouble anymore. Of course, I don’t want to do anything to bring shame or peculiar feelings to the family tree. What to do?? Needless to say I am giving the matter no end of thought, more than usual even.
We are used to high-caliber individuals like the Shrimp, in fact in all my travels I don’t recall running across anyone of similar capacities – let’s see now, what was I leading up to? Oh well. One question – did you ever happen to hear of anyone perfectly suited to me, to your way of thinking? ?? Case adjourned.
I have found the place to buy music. Had occasion to ask for a piece of 10-year old popular music I’d never heard, and didn’t even have the title just right. 1-2-3 they whisked it out of their files. The name of this place is Schirmers, they publish music + sell it also. I think there are 4 floors. If there is anywhere in the world you can get a rare piece of music, I’ll bet that’s it. They haven’t seen a Decca Catalog since 1942, incidentally.
(Side note) that scoundrel that autographed my copy of “Linda” is an imposter – another Jack Lawrence.
I think that OZ book as $1.75. They’ve shrunk, what??
I have a new cotton long-sleeved blouse in large gray + yellow checks. Also a silk scarf in gray fading off to yellow in 2 places.
In case I haven’t already asked – what shall I get Shrimp for birthday?
Gimme more particulars on those curtains. I’m flush this week, worked overtime last week. I’m doing a big job – full color cover for an Erector Set box. The new artist seems to be doing okay – talks to himself. Mr, Niech has been dismissed.
I went to church last Sunday. Dr. Hersey was extra good.
Guess I’d better go to bed. It’s nearly 2:00 AM. Give my regards to those old red+ orange leaves.
love, J.
Sunday PM Oct 12
Dear Folks,
Am I beat! Still haven’t recovered from yesterday when I helped Joe + Richard paint some walls. Never realized painting was such a job + it looks so easy. Got some in my hair. When it came to painting the floor, we couldn’t get the table out of the room, as it was too big for the door. The question was, what to do with the table to get it off the floor. When I heard myself suggesting that we put it up on the table. I knew without a doubt that I was real beat, as they say in Harlem.
Hefeafter, when speaking of Bradnfordites I shall designate so = (B) (W) He dismissed Saul (W) and hired Al (W) for pasteup. Al is the eager-beaver type, + has stuck it out for a week. He gets all sorts of criticism, but bears up well. For the last week I’ve been having fun, doing a box for a construction set - 2 kids, a father + a ferris wheel. Was pretty lucky, as I had a lot of reference, + a beautiful Whatman board to work on. Brandford says he’ll give me a bonus for this, which I hafta see to believe, of course.
Big Scandal – In the office of Christian Associates, which is in the same place with us, there has been employed a meek, obliging young man named Prendergast (B). He kept the books. You seldom see a more earnest, eager-to-please fellow. Then suddenly they learned that he had been forging Mr. Christian’s (B) name on checks and embezzled some $2600 from the firm. He has skipped. What a mess. Hard to believe it of such an innocent-looking soul. He went to Syracuse Univ.
I’m making a leather knitting bag. I hope.
I sent Shrimp all sorts of peculiar + exotic sandwich makings – cheese, antipasto, etc. etc. etc. stuffed into 4 sweat sox. Hope its Okay. I know he does a lot of sandwich making and (I can’t make it) - She had run out of paper and had to use another sheet. – ac. What I sent I know he’s probably never get himself, at least I’ve never tried ‘em + if he can’t manage, there’ll be somebody at the Lenox club who can. I have my doubts about the anchovies (These things were all in cans) (mostly). All this sounds a bit garbled. I don’t think I should have written this letter until tomorrow.
Rogers had a room in Brooklyn for a week. Had the Bear and me down for supper one night. She says it’s too “moldy” + is moving back to Baldwin. She’s working where she did last winter + doesn’t like it.
Y’know my lavender formal? I’ll never need a formal, but I betcha if I shortened it a bit it would be very stylish now as a longish party dress. Long formals are very seldom worn on $40 incomes.
The voice lessons are still in the practice stage.
Hope you all feel livelier than I do.
love, J.
Sunday AM Oct 26
Dear Folks,
What a beautiful warm Indian Summer day. My room-mate is practicing her dramatic lessons in the middle of the room. And suddenly we have another visitor, the first of its type we’ve ever had – a black Cairn terrier named Jet. He is accompanied by a girl friend of my room-mate. Well behaved little guy.
Today I intend to use my color film. Chris, Joey, Richard + I hope to go to the state of New Jersey, where the leaves are at their best. That is if we can find an area that isn’t burning. Have there been fires up your way?
There really is nothing similar to that pongee curtain material in these parts. They have domestic pongee, which looks like burlap only shiny. The closest thing is ninon. Y’know the curtainy looking stuff. I’ve seen some rayonish material with a close smooth weave, abut pongee weight but a lighter color…not transparent like ninon. Wish you were here to look ‘em over. I’ll send the Stewart Plaid along. There’s plenty of it to be had. Thanx for the $2 refund.
Guess I’d better tell you more – the “Catastrophe” will occur one of these weekends. I hope you won’t think of it as a catastrophe – it is really far from being one. It can’t be said that I’m plunging blindly into this, as I have considered, reflected, deliberated, pondered, and examined all facts for many moons, especially since your letter of September 27th or thereabouts, and have concluded that it’s the thing to do. I have known the old Bear for some time and am sure the Shrimp is wrong. If I were going to be sick of him, the symptoms would have shown themselves by now, and as it is I seem to be going in the other direction. Best I shut up now, as the mind is made up. I hope you don’t feel too badly about this. I dunno what to say to the Shrimp.
We’ve had more darn fun + excitement lately fixing up the apartment. Walter has gone for good – to Maine – the town of Bangor, which I think is in the fire swept area. (he got there first) (we should hear from him)
You wouldn’t know the old place. It’s been a sort of a guinea pig for color schemes + lighting effects. It’s only a temporary place, so mistakes don’t matter too much. Well go into detail later. Gotta feed the face now.
love, J.
postcard from Grand Rapids postmarked Nov 8 1947
Fri PM
Dear Folks,
We had fun in G.R. These in-laws are quite super. We’ve had rotten weather though + it better clear up for the trip thru Canada, so I can use that film. We leave tomorrow crack of dawn. love, J
Wed. PM
Dear Folks,
Time off from trying to make a potato salad out of improper ingredients, ie: no potatoes. Guess I should read that book. Haven’t had time yet. Haven’t had time to do anything. Washing accumulates. Junk still sets around waiting for us to get a cupboard or chest of drawers, and here I am on a committee of some kind.
By the way, when I was home I forgot to pick up something for that bazaar they’re putting on – a baby picture of me. They plan a picture guessing table. Not one of those nekkid jobs.
So now it is a second-hand dealer that is showing you the town? Sounds real exciting. Has he any second-hand table model sewing machines? I don’t recall those kitchen drawer-knobs. What nerve, removing people’s knobs.
Well, we hit New York about midnight Sunday, after giving up several times outside Syracuse. I foolishly requested that we come back that way, to get a smell of the old stomping-grounds, and along about dark we ran afoul of a typical Syracuse blizzard. We floundered along on little roads as far as Norwich, and then decided to come down to Binghamton + go in on route 17. Made good time, considering.
I think it could be called a successful honeymoon, despite the fact that the sun only really appeared once, Sunday morning as we were taking a quick look at Niagra Falls. Monday night (the first one) we spent at a Tourist Cabin just outside of Cleveland. Tuesday we got to Detroit, + loaded up some old friends who knew Joe from the very beginning. We spent that night with them. Very hospitable but not very inspiring. The next night at the home of another friend, a gall named Josie, also uninspiring, hwo has a little boy named Carl, about 12 or 14. this kid is a marvel, knows everything about music + the lives of the old masters, studies French diligently, and is quite learned in other fields. Besides this he is an all-around athlete + takes prizes for dancing. Josie is divorced from his father who is a successful gambler.
Wednesday nite we say a bit of Detroit.
Thursday we pushed off for Grand Rapids arriving about 5:00. Managed to find his brother’s house, which is as cute a little thing as we could hope for. Very tastefully arranged interior. The brother, Joe, + wife Helen, were just returning from work, and son Jim, who looks like a cowboy, was relaxing here + there. Helen, although she has two daughters nearly my age is a cute spry young thing, who wears slacks and sits on the floor whenever possible. The brother is an outdoor-looking sort. They hunt, + served us partridge + rabbit, both of which were new to me, I think and very good. I felt quite at home there: everyone buzzes about doing what they would be doing if you weren’t there, passing remarks from time to time. Nobody knocks himself out to entertain you, and everything is casual. We called on the younger daughter, Lorraine, who is married to a beanpole-Irishman + has a lovely apartment. Both she and the beanpole are charming. We stayed at a hotel, as the house is too small, + explored “Grand Rabbits” the next day, + that night attended a blizzardy football game with the other daughter, Marjorie + her fiancé. Afterwards they showed us the town’s night spots + a good time was had. We started home Saturday morning, crossed Canada + nearly got to Niagara Falls before hitting the hay in a small hotel in Welland. Called my ex-room-mate in St. Thomas, but she was away. And so, home on Sunday. We had no trouble at the borders; they didn’t even investigate our luggage. There must be an honest face among us.
Old Betsy behaved well. She averaged about 55 MPH all the way, and only troubled us for a new fuel pump, generator, and intermittent headlight rewirings.
I sent the Shrimp a card from Michigan.
Now I must do a washing, although I would rather not.
love, J.
Friday AM
Dear Folks,
Thought I’d get this started last night, but washing took longer than I thot it would.
The bazaar is past + gone, and we’ve been cleaning up the scraps. If it hadn’t been so inconveniently timed, that affair would have been loads of fun. Alice, Gladys, + I got together several times + made things of felt, first at Gladys’ place, then at ours. Gladys + Kess are doing a better job on their apartment than we, I’m afraid. They’ve a rug in their living room, + upholstered furniture. Guess they plan to stay there indefinitely. Kess is a squarish assistant. H. Yale Kesterson is the complete name. I always imagined the H was for Harvard, but never asked.
It’s now evening, and I find a letter from you. Gosh, I am overwhelmed at the gift. You shouldnta. Can use, tho. We’ll take it along with us tomorrow when we go to Brooklyn to investigate the used piano market. The music teacher Joe knows recommended the place. This should make a great difference in the old voice. It’s hard to explain anything without a piano, + it sometimes seems that sessions are a waste of time if he can’t practice between sessions. I’ve been encouraged with his progress lately. Maybe you noticed before a certain nasal quality in his voice, it always annoyed me somewhat, but I could never put my finger on the difficulty. Now his new teacher has attacked this problem and I’ve been reminding when he slips, and altogether there’s a great improvement. It’s amazing, I think, but I may be prejudiced.
It is much later now and Gladys, Kess, Bear = I have witnessed the Louis-Walcott fight. What a surprise, Mr. W lasted 15 rounds. Oh yes, it was by television that we saw it. Kess and Joe are now running a wire through the wall between the bathroom + the closet. Gladys is stretched out on the bed, as it is 12:35 and she works tomorrow.
Thanx for the Christmas Gift information. Do you know of anything suitable for the Shrimp? There is an outfit here for which we do a job now + then, catalogues, etc., and they have a little wholesale store in an office on Madison Ave. There one can purchase watches, jewelry, clocks, gadgets, cameras etc. etc. for a little more than half of what they sell for in stores. I bought for Joe a sterling silver identification bracelet marked $11.00 for $4 something. Anybody need cuff links? Isn’t there anything more exciting than handkerchiefs for Pop?
We have some reserve silver that we use all the time. Probably the same caliber as that you mention. We have a butter knife. I don’t think we’ll need any more silverware, haven’t run short yet, anyway + haven’t used the fancy ones yet.
About Christmas – I’ll get there in time for dinner Christmas Day. Haven’t decided whether to bus or train yet. How’s the situation now? Joe may be able to get Friday off – will it be okay for him to come along? Or would it be safer for me to come alone?
A favor I’d like to ask – will your make me a hefty dentist date with the Sayre dentist or any other that may be handy for Friday or Saturday of Xmas weekend?
It’s evening now and we didn’t get the piano today, but I started my blue California Rustic set of dishes with a large bowl + platter, reduced because of nicks. There’s something about those dishes that cheers me mightily. They’re very harmonious with our kitchen walls and seem to yell + shriek for yellow + white checked tablecloth and curtains.
I can’t seem to think of a gift for us – we’re getting things as fast as we need ‘em. One thing we haven’t yet – magazine subscriptions. Is ‘Life’ terrible expensive? Joe likes ‘Time’. Maybe you know of others that would be beneficial to a couple of young saps. WE have Popular Mechanics, or will soon. Writing paper is always running low, too. We have no bath brush. After that goodly check you shouldn’t really give us anything for a while.
It’s now Sunday, 5:00 PM. I’ve finished the ironing, we had a snack, and after finishing this, it might be a good idea to darn socks. The poor bear has been wearing holes for the last 2 weeks. There isn’t a sound pair in the house.
The Bear has bought a hat. Brown snap-brim. I can’t get used to it. Keep getting a first glance impression that he is somebody else.
I guess I’d better cease now. We may take time off tonight to see a movie.
love, J
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