Janice wrote to her parents on these floral postcards.From Janice's notebook:
March 31st 7:15 Day before Easter
The sky was yellow, then suddelny it was lavender-gray. The rain hissed on the sidewalks, the lightning snapped, and children shouted, "Rainbow" I opened the window, leaned out, and there it was, high and bright. I looked to the west and hte Empire State Bldg. shone in the last of the afternoon sun. Everything was tall + gleaming, surprised + refreshed by the sudden shower, crowned by the first ciity rainbow. Then night fell. An ordinary day, instead of sliding into darkness like so many others, turned and waved goodbye.
March went out like a butterfly this year, a bright and giddy preview of the Easter Parade.
Postcard postmarked April 2
Dear Folks,
The ride down was gorgeous. Light all the way to Easton + farther. The violets are divided between Miss Coates and me, and doing fine.
The Hoppmans claim to have missed me. They were rushed.
Must dash off to school. More later. love, J
ac note: Janice refers to her ride to NYC on the train from Athens, via Easton, PA Miss Coates was her landlady.
Postcard postmarked April 16
Dear Folks,
This morning I went to the Universalist church. Met up with a couple of Sheshequin Stevenses, aunt + uncle of Alice and Lindaley. Nice big church, very small + elderly congregation.
Up in the park today I found myself sketching everybody and their kids. Should start charging 25 cents but the cops would eject me.
love, J
Dear Folks,
The ride down was gorgeous. Light all the way to Easton + farther. The violets are divided between Miss Coates and me, and doing fine.
The Hoppmans claim to have missed me. They were rushed.
Must dash off to school. More later. love, J
ac note: Janice refers to her ride to NYC on the train from Athens, via Easton, PA Miss Coates was her landlady.
Postcard postmarked April 16
Dear Folks,
This morning I went to the Universalist church. Met up with a couple of Sheshequin Stevenses, aunt + uncle of Alice and Lindaley. Nice big church, very small + elderly congregation.
Up in the park today I found myself sketching everybody and their kids. Should start charging 25 cents but the cops would eject me.
love, J
ac note: Sheshequin refers to the Unitarian /Universalist church her family attended in PA. In NYC she attended the Unitarian/ Universalist Church of the Divine Paternity at Central Park West and 76th Street.
Sunday eve April 29
Dear Folks,
What a waste of day! I must do a little something constructive. I’ve been puttering around listening to the radio, dabbling with paints, reading the Ladies Home Journal and cutting the toes out of my old black shoes with a razor blade. In their old age they may as well be comfortable.
Once more, who wrote that Modern Art book?
I don’t understand how come the two hundred empty egg crates and how did you know the next Express card wasn’t also two hundred empty egg crates, or perhaps it was?
Today I discovered that there is a tree, no less, visible from where I now am sitting. I can see the top of it over a low building. It must be right over on Fourth Ave. Also there is a second floor joint that I thot was deserted. Baby Books it says on the front in dilapidated letters. But yesterday there was a person repeatedly doing something with large sheets of cloth by the window. I watched for a heck of a long time before I realized that it must have been a baby Book in the process of being printed.
I hope that, come tomorrow, the Hoppermans will be in their new office. For the last week the door has been kept open so that Ruthie, urged on by Hoppy, can keep an eye on what progress Miss Hardy (whose actual name is Blawp or something ot the sort) is making with the moving out of her “junk”. There was much name-calling when she decided to pry up her inlaid linoleum and take it along. She is in the perfume business. What with the door being open, we get in on a lot of stuff we otherwise miss. Maybe I told you about the jolly elevator man who on the average of every five minutes, is highly amused by some slight thing and practically shakes the building as follows – Huh ha-ha-Haaaaa!! Oh-ho-HO ho HO ho HOOOOH! Ha-ha-ha-ha Ha ha HA HA+HA ---hee-hee-hee HEE-oooo-wah-hoo-HA-hoo-HA---Yuh – huh-, huh HA, etc. etc. you don’t think he will survuve but he does, every time.
I showed the girls that picture of us, and Virginia says Pop looks like the kind of guy she could wrap around her little finger. How about that? It is an invitation that I can not seem to visualize.
I hope you like those flower post cards, as I have been getting them lately instead of candy bars. There are also horse, dog, and landscape varieties but I prefer these. A simple minded an innocent hobby.
Rogers is expected in town this week. I dunno whether she’ll get around to me or not.
Regina and I saw “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town” with Gary Cooper last night. A comeback. Small town lad inherits fortune, goes to city, + is taken in by a bunch of slickers, especially his girl. Trite, of course, but I liked it, especially where he plays in the band that gathers at the station to see himself off and gets on the train still playing Auld Lang Syne on the tuba between goodbye-wavings. Some things that go on between him and the citizens of New York seem very familiar indeed.
I finally sent S.U. that $150.
I had a beer-can opener hung over my bed on a nail, as one hangs a horse shoe. Twice it was removed + twice I put it back + now not only was it removed but the nail also. So I have hung it on another nail over by the window. Leaver her pull that one out too, and there is yet a hook over on the closet. Love will find a way.
Well this weekend’s weather wasn’t so hot either. I got up to the Park on Saturday for a while, but it was right stiff and breezy.
The more I see of Mauch Chuck, PA the more I want to see more of it. Should think it would be warm in the winter + cool in the summer, penned in by huge mountains as it is. Probably a dirty little hole when you get right down into it. With a name like that, how could it succeed?
How does Ann come along now?
Who the heck is Walter? Also I am not sure I know who Letty is.
Now to finish off this hard day by going to bed.
Love, JAC notes. – Rogers is Jean Rogers, Janice’s college roommate. Regina Reynolds, an actress friend of my mother.
Historic and scenic Maych Chuck PA, nestled in a steep valley of the Pocono Mountains, is now known as Jim Thorpe.
The flower posts Janice mentions were used to send short notes to her mother in addition the these letters.
9:10 PM Saturday, May 5
Dear Folks,
It’s about time I came across. And after that nice long yellow super-letter, which was indeed super.
The past week has been rather gruesome. I caught another cold, a thing which seems to happen about every three weeks. This was the worst one yet, and what with it’s raining absolutely every day, the outlook was especially greary (sic). Moreover, I had ambitiously started on Monday a large 2’x3’ canvas with only a one-week pose. Managed to get in three nights on it, + strange to say, it didn’t turn out bad. Didn’t have time to spoil it, must be. Lack of what vitamin lowers cold resistance? Or is it lack of sleep?
Had an interesting day. Went down to Gramercy Park, where the National Arts Club is located. Lovely old neighborhood with the park and all, a refined and elderly atmosphere, yet plenty of well-dressed kids and dogs. A clean quietness prevails. Hospital district. Found the National Arts Club. “Former home of Samuel Tilden” it says on the outside, and very former by the looks. Who was Samuel Tilden? All I can think of is tennis player and I realize that was another. Anyway, they seem rather hospitable + claim to have rooms available and refer me to one Miss Nichols. She gives me information, some of which follows: (curse this pen) A number of students at the league reside there. The membership dues are $25 per year (wow) and a single room is $35 pre month, with no arrangements for getting your own meals or having milk or anything around. They have exhibits and things. But there is no place to paint in the building. Downstairs there’s a big dining room, a lounge with shiny round tables, a bay window facing the park, all very dark, ancient, and polished. Wide stairways, high ceilings. But I figure to live down there would cost per week just about what I make per week, after extras are added on, leaving nothing for the dentist. Nice neighborhood, though, + I shall go down there for a strole (sic) evenings. Can’t figure out how or if people get into that park, altho they are always there. It’s very fenced off + gated up. Maybe it’s for the privileged few (It seems as if that Miss Nichols was unusually anxious to get me a nice room. Hm.)
So then I went looking for a black skirt, couldn’t find one. Went to Barnes + Noble + asked about the book. I told her “Experiencing Pictures” + she found me “Experiencing American Pictures”. By Pearson, alright, + I hope it is the same, as I have ordered it (sent here. It wasn’t in stock). $4.00 so I owe you a buck.
While at S. Klein, the place where you can get things good for cheap, I happened by accident upon a rack of reduced suits, one of which is a shade of deep teal blue that I always wanted something in. It’s very rarely seen anymore, probably because of dye shortage. I tried it on + it fit, but as I had not enough cash on me I came away then. Thought it over + stopped by with Regina late in the afternoon. It was gone from the rack. Disappointment. Looked around + found it elsewhere. Bought it. Shall try to include a piece. It goes well with a number of things.
That whole 18th St. district is crowded with outlet stores, factory surplus places + things. Basement counters piled high with dog-eared synthetic shoes. Green with blue bows, maroon with purple bows, and stuff like that.
One of Regina’s instructors gave her two tickets to a play, “Common Ground” at the Fulton. We went this afternoon. Very good seats about the third row. I’m no judge of plays, this being the first actually that I’ve seen here, that Greenwich Village job being in a different category. I liked it (this one). Seems to me they did a good job – no hitches, nothing amateurish. Concerning a bunch of overseas entertainers who became Nazi prisoners.
Hoppman’s new studio is large and echoing, with an excellent view on our left. It’s been rather cold this week. They have a radio in, so we can keep up with the latest. I am surprised to find Hoppmans and Rupp liking cowboy music. We get a little of everything, + are too busy to turn it off when it gets obnoxiously commercial.
Mr. Burrnett keeps insisting that I am Irish. How shall I prove otherwise?
The laundry bag will be right along. (tan skirt + pink blouse can come back in laundry) The candy box is in remembrance of Mothers + Father’s day. The missing first layer is where I stopped by at the office + tried a few myself to ascertain whether or not the are suitable for sending home.
What about that checkered cloth you wanted?
Hoppman is planning to hire another temporary helper.
I mail this + retire.
Love, J
9:20 PM Thursday, May 11
Dear Folks,
Time you got another letter, although I fear it will not be too sharp, as I am not.
Becoming sick and tired of this terrific cold, I went downstairs to Dr. A.K. Ourian, mistake No. 1. The old sawbones gives me a thorough going-over, which consisted mostly of directing me from room to room and back again. He suggested an X-ray, which I had been thinking I should have, so I agreed (mistake No. 2). Altogether it was $13 and no pills yet. A prescription he gives me which will cost $3.00 and by gad, I’m not that sick. So the cold is here to stay. And it rains, rains, rains, + rains. The office is cold + damp and the Hoppmans are no doubt tired of hearing me cough + I am tired of so doing. It has been suggested that I am doing it to arouse sympathy, that I am being a martyr, that I shouldn’t go to school nights, and above all, take care of it. I have thought of the prefect out, which I would like to try tomorrow. Had a little lecture this morning on how I lost money on a certain job. I could say I was tired of losing money for you poor souls + had decided to find somebody else to do it for. But I suppose I’ll have to give a week’s notice, as it would be a dirty trick to leave even them in the lurch, or would it?
I bought a begonia. Didn’t water it the first day + it all but passed out. Begonias are a nice planty plant.
Miss Coates has gone to Florida for three weeks, for her arm. Funny thing happened Sunday morning. At 8:15, arrayed in the bathrobe, I made for the bathroom. And there, in the kitchen, getting her breakfast, was Miss Coates, no less, in her corset. So she couldn’t eat breakfast with me looking untidy – after one look at her in that state even going to the bathroom I have lost my appetite for. Missed the chance of a lifetime by not remarking on this.
We have a very cute model at the league. Young brunette girl in black tights.
Hope the laundry bag held together. Can you send a rag of two back? Not may, as I find Kleenex is not bad as a paint rag.
Guess I will take a bath, although Dr. a.K Oudrian says don’t.
Well, this has been some letter. Will try to do better if I ever stop feeling so rotten. Hope you are all better off.
Love, J
AC note: The League is the Art Student’s League where Janice was studying under Louis Bouche.
12:00 PM Wednesday, May 16 ‘45
Dear Folks,
This will get started now, although it may not be finished at one sitting. Just got back from viewing a broadcast, “Roundtable for Romance”, very funny + entertaining. The girl next door, one Gladys, gets tickets now and then. It was with her I went.
That book isn’t the same one although it looks good. Claims to be written in the same vein and with the same purpose in mind. The other book, Experiencing Pictures, is out of print now, it says on the flyleaf. Who published it? I doubt if I can exchange this one but will think about it after looking it over.
I beg to differ with the statement that the colored gentleman on the train was the first you exchanged a word with. Once before on a train you deserted the Shrimp and me for a colored gentleman (we were quite young) and I think you exchanged a word or two.
Things have been occurring here. The cold is now under control. I weakened and invested in some of the pills prescribed by A.K. Ourian. Those colds that you guys have, or have had, I hope are precisely the same as mine. The description could be of no other but this. Exactly the very germs, etc. I agree with Pop that it’s the worst one yet. Strange coincidence or something.
A cherry red + yellow letter, the last.
To be continued in the morning.
Morning – last weekend I stayed at Rogers Saturday and Sunday. Her brother in the army has some kind of sclerosis that paralyzes half of him, but is recovering now, so her parents left Sunday morning early to visit him, and we ran the house from then on. Had lobster for lunch, a rare experience for us both. Came in to N.Y. Sunday eve + saw ”A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” which is a tear-jerker. She slept on the floor of my room most of the night (with pillow + blankets, but yet). At 6 AM we discovered that we could both have fit on the bed, facing opposite ends. She survived, being about the toughest person there is. You should hear the list of things she takes at S.U. 11- hours class day. 3 hrs. waiting table, live saving lessons, flying lessons, and yet time for extra-extra curricular activities. She has been smoking too much and the old hand shakes, but with all, she maintains, the same robustage (sic) as before, if not more. Keeps recounting the various gay times she is having with one Harvey Hutcheon, a huge Canadian returned from the RCAF, a guy who was the answer to several maidens prayers when I was a frosh. She claims to have him wrapped around the little finger.
6:50 PM Next Day, Thursday, I think.
Central park + it looks like rain. I don’t like to get to class early, as then the monitor is busily arranging easels + I would feel I should help which is what I have no actual desire to do.
Just bought a pair of sandals to replace the baby-dolls that I sold Rogers for 2.00 without stamp because they fit her better than me. These are imitation black suede (sketch)
Got your penciled postcard this morning. Peggy shouldn’t worry, as I sent her a while ago one postcard with a big pink rose on the front, assuring her that all plans were okay.
When Rogers was a frosh, she counted among her following an unwelcome individual, against whom she claims to have used all means of discouragement. He was by name Bill Adrian (pronounced with disgust). Dopiest of the dopey, a goon to end all goons, says she. I have only seen him, and that is no great treat. Some years he was a travelling salesman, + some he went to S.U. where he went to classes without paying + wrote corny + imbecillic poetry for the D.O (Daily Orange, campus paper – ac) And now, we read in the paper, “From Script Writer to Actor in 3 Weeks” + it goes on to display a picture of this person + give his life history. It seems he is to be in “The Yearling” And it is too late for a reconciliation, (not that she’d want one) as he has married a childhood sweetheart.
Now it is starting time, and I shall get up and stagger over to 57th Street + so upstairs to Bouche.
B. Duck writes she too, will be in town this weekend. Never rains hut it snows.
love, J
May 22nd Postcard
Dear Folks,
It has been an active week and week-end. Too much to put on a post-card, but I am short of time and stamps, so-
I am stiff, and you probably see Peggy hobbling around if she is able to get out of bed. Coney Island was fun. Could you include my bathing suit in the package?
The laundry bag arrived and the cookies came in very handy. That was a record for laundry bag packing. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
More of this soon. love, J
5:00 PM Sat May 22
Dear Folks,
I am writing this from the edge of the roof, and it’s a good thing for the street cleaners that I am not one foot farther south.
The sun is supposedly shining here, although a stiff breeze has mustered up no small about of their cloud. A handsome young gentleman who was sunning himself on the next roof below has disappeared and maybe he had the right idea. It is getting a little chilly.
Regina, Gerda, and I hope to go swimming tomorrow if the weather permits. They say Jones Beach, but I fear that is a little far. Coney Island isn’t so crowded yet as to be obnoxious. Regina and I bought bathing suits today, but you can still send my other one sometime. The new job is white with large pink + lavender pansies, very two-piece..
I have discovered from here several back yards with trees growing in them and grass. Linden trees, Gerda says they are. Large round, thin-stemmed trees with leaves like this – (sketch). Gerda is a nice young thing who lives on fifth floor. She looks a little like Nelia Hazard only lighter. Dramatics student, and from the country.
I bumped into an acquaintance on Fifth Ave, today. One Matt La Russo, who graduated this year, after starting a long time ago and quitting after three years because of bad health. He’s working here somewhere. Was an illustrator. Everybody that’s down here from S.U. seems to be connected with the arts.
Which potholder did you get? There were two. I think the orange and black one was arranged around the watch. Peggy left one behind which was hers, so maybe Mrs. Moore was accidentally presented with the other one. Oh well.
Classes are over, and I will certainly miss the place. Night before last the model was sick, so I was drafted into posing because, as Lou said, I needed the money ($3.00). Very considerate of the old dear. He got a fairly good likeness, for him. Only four people painted altogether. I had a hard time keeping a straight face, as everyone was being very funny, especially Prof. Bouche. All shaking hands, saying goodbye, and generally loafing around. L. Burnett makes horrible faces while painting, I discover, and mutters things, getting desperate toward the end, as if packing a suitcase for a train which leaves in five minutes. Prof. B. bawled me out for mot planning pictures before splashing into ‘em. Says the features are too big in my last painting. The face on his masterpiece downstairs is lopsidedo I don’t know weather to believe him or not. Sometimes I think his personal value is merely decorative.
Haven’t looked up that weekend painting expedition yet. Its headquarters are at the Village. One Mr. Fisher is the boss. He has a class down there, and furnishes transportation + instruction on the trips. They don’t get much farther than the outskirts of the city, what with lack of gasoline, but according to Mr. Boza, a middle-aged wolf, who was a Spanish nobleman in his day, they do some good things. This Fisher, says Mr. Boza, knows the countryside and has all the good painting places marked off.
I haven’t called up about the Stage Door Canteen sketching yet. If Dick can do it, so can I, and he says there was a shortage of sketchers a while ago.
One thing I have done is made a date with a dentist. Dr. Mac Donald, recommended by Dr. Garrison of Syracuse. June 6, at 3:00. Can’t do much business with him though, as he is not open Saturdays, or after 5:00.
I always thought tripe was a tough kind of fish until the other day. Don’t think I’ll order it again, but tough isn’t exactly what it was.
What makes a begonia stop blossoming? I water it plenty and set it out in the sun every morning.
Is Ann still among you and how’s she now?
Three letters in one day. You, the Shrimp, and Mrs. Rodgers, I have written. There will be more of this sort of thing now that some spare time is coming up.
love, J
Sunday eve April 29
Dear Folks,
What a waste of day! I must do a little something constructive. I’ve been puttering around listening to the radio, dabbling with paints, reading the Ladies Home Journal and cutting the toes out of my old black shoes with a razor blade. In their old age they may as well be comfortable.
Once more, who wrote that Modern Art book?
I don’t understand how come the two hundred empty egg crates and how did you know the next Express card wasn’t also two hundred empty egg crates, or perhaps it was?
Today I discovered that there is a tree, no less, visible from where I now am sitting. I can see the top of it over a low building. It must be right over on Fourth Ave. Also there is a second floor joint that I thot was deserted. Baby Books it says on the front in dilapidated letters. But yesterday there was a person repeatedly doing something with large sheets of cloth by the window. I watched for a heck of a long time before I realized that it must have been a baby Book in the process of being printed.
I hope that, come tomorrow, the Hoppermans will be in their new office. For the last week the door has been kept open so that Ruthie, urged on by Hoppy, can keep an eye on what progress Miss Hardy (whose actual name is Blawp or something ot the sort) is making with the moving out of her “junk”. There was much name-calling when she decided to pry up her inlaid linoleum and take it along. She is in the perfume business. What with the door being open, we get in on a lot of stuff we otherwise miss. Maybe I told you about the jolly elevator man who on the average of every five minutes, is highly amused by some slight thing and practically shakes the building as follows – Huh ha-ha-Haaaaa!! Oh-ho-HO ho HO ho HOOOOH! Ha-ha-ha-ha Ha ha HA HA+HA ---hee-hee-hee HEE-oooo-wah-hoo-HA-hoo-HA---Yuh – huh-, huh HA, etc. etc. you don’t think he will survuve but he does, every time.
I showed the girls that picture of us, and Virginia says Pop looks like the kind of guy she could wrap around her little finger. How about that? It is an invitation that I can not seem to visualize.
I hope you like those flower post cards, as I have been getting them lately instead of candy bars. There are also horse, dog, and landscape varieties but I prefer these. A simple minded an innocent hobby.
Rogers is expected in town this week. I dunno whether she’ll get around to me or not.
Regina and I saw “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town” with Gary Cooper last night. A comeback. Small town lad inherits fortune, goes to city, + is taken in by a bunch of slickers, especially his girl. Trite, of course, but I liked it, especially where he plays in the band that gathers at the station to see himself off and gets on the train still playing Auld Lang Syne on the tuba between goodbye-wavings. Some things that go on between him and the citizens of New York seem very familiar indeed.
I finally sent S.U. that $150.
I had a beer-can opener hung over my bed on a nail, as one hangs a horse shoe. Twice it was removed + twice I put it back + now not only was it removed but the nail also. So I have hung it on another nail over by the window. Leaver her pull that one out too, and there is yet a hook over on the closet. Love will find a way.
Well this weekend’s weather wasn’t so hot either. I got up to the Park on Saturday for a while, but it was right stiff and breezy.
The more I see of Mauch Chuck, PA the more I want to see more of it. Should think it would be warm in the winter + cool in the summer, penned in by huge mountains as it is. Probably a dirty little hole when you get right down into it. With a name like that, how could it succeed?
How does Ann come along now?
Who the heck is Walter? Also I am not sure I know who Letty is.
Now to finish off this hard day by going to bed.
Love, JAC notes. – Rogers is Jean Rogers, Janice’s college roommate. Regina Reynolds, an actress friend of my mother.
Historic and scenic Maych Chuck PA, nestled in a steep valley of the Pocono Mountains, is now known as Jim Thorpe.
The flower posts Janice mentions were used to send short notes to her mother in addition the these letters.
9:10 PM Saturday, May 5
Dear Folks,
It’s about time I came across. And after that nice long yellow super-letter, which was indeed super.
The past week has been rather gruesome. I caught another cold, a thing which seems to happen about every three weeks. This was the worst one yet, and what with it’s raining absolutely every day, the outlook was especially greary (sic). Moreover, I had ambitiously started on Monday a large 2’x3’ canvas with only a one-week pose. Managed to get in three nights on it, + strange to say, it didn’t turn out bad. Didn’t have time to spoil it, must be. Lack of what vitamin lowers cold resistance? Or is it lack of sleep?
Had an interesting day. Went down to Gramercy Park, where the National Arts Club is located. Lovely old neighborhood with the park and all, a refined and elderly atmosphere, yet plenty of well-dressed kids and dogs. A clean quietness prevails. Hospital district. Found the National Arts Club. “Former home of Samuel Tilden” it says on the outside, and very former by the looks. Who was Samuel Tilden? All I can think of is tennis player and I realize that was another. Anyway, they seem rather hospitable + claim to have rooms available and refer me to one Miss Nichols. She gives me information, some of which follows: (curse this pen) A number of students at the league reside there. The membership dues are $25 per year (wow) and a single room is $35 pre month, with no arrangements for getting your own meals or having milk or anything around. They have exhibits and things. But there is no place to paint in the building. Downstairs there’s a big dining room, a lounge with shiny round tables, a bay window facing the park, all very dark, ancient, and polished. Wide stairways, high ceilings. But I figure to live down there would cost per week just about what I make per week, after extras are added on, leaving nothing for the dentist. Nice neighborhood, though, + I shall go down there for a strole (sic) evenings. Can’t figure out how or if people get into that park, altho they are always there. It’s very fenced off + gated up. Maybe it’s for the privileged few (It seems as if that Miss Nichols was unusually anxious to get me a nice room. Hm.)
So then I went looking for a black skirt, couldn’t find one. Went to Barnes + Noble + asked about the book. I told her “Experiencing Pictures” + she found me “Experiencing American Pictures”. By Pearson, alright, + I hope it is the same, as I have ordered it (sent here. It wasn’t in stock). $4.00 so I owe you a buck.
While at S. Klein, the place where you can get things good for cheap, I happened by accident upon a rack of reduced suits, one of which is a shade of deep teal blue that I always wanted something in. It’s very rarely seen anymore, probably because of dye shortage. I tried it on + it fit, but as I had not enough cash on me I came away then. Thought it over + stopped by with Regina late in the afternoon. It was gone from the rack. Disappointment. Looked around + found it elsewhere. Bought it. Shall try to include a piece. It goes well with a number of things.
That whole 18th St. district is crowded with outlet stores, factory surplus places + things. Basement counters piled high with dog-eared synthetic shoes. Green with blue bows, maroon with purple bows, and stuff like that.
One of Regina’s instructors gave her two tickets to a play, “Common Ground” at the Fulton. We went this afternoon. Very good seats about the third row. I’m no judge of plays, this being the first actually that I’ve seen here, that Greenwich Village job being in a different category. I liked it (this one). Seems to me they did a good job – no hitches, nothing amateurish. Concerning a bunch of overseas entertainers who became Nazi prisoners.
Hoppman’s new studio is large and echoing, with an excellent view on our left. It’s been rather cold this week. They have a radio in, so we can keep up with the latest. I am surprised to find Hoppmans and Rupp liking cowboy music. We get a little of everything, + are too busy to turn it off when it gets obnoxiously commercial.
Mr. Burrnett keeps insisting that I am Irish. How shall I prove otherwise?
The laundry bag will be right along. (tan skirt + pink blouse can come back in laundry) The candy box is in remembrance of Mothers + Father’s day. The missing first layer is where I stopped by at the office + tried a few myself to ascertain whether or not the are suitable for sending home.
What about that checkered cloth you wanted?
Hoppman is planning to hire another temporary helper.
I mail this + retire.
Love, J
9:20 PM Thursday, May 11
Dear Folks,
Time you got another letter, although I fear it will not be too sharp, as I am not.
Becoming sick and tired of this terrific cold, I went downstairs to Dr. A.K. Ourian, mistake No. 1. The old sawbones gives me a thorough going-over, which consisted mostly of directing me from room to room and back again. He suggested an X-ray, which I had been thinking I should have, so I agreed (mistake No. 2). Altogether it was $13 and no pills yet. A prescription he gives me which will cost $3.00 and by gad, I’m not that sick. So the cold is here to stay. And it rains, rains, rains, + rains. The office is cold + damp and the Hoppmans are no doubt tired of hearing me cough + I am tired of so doing. It has been suggested that I am doing it to arouse sympathy, that I am being a martyr, that I shouldn’t go to school nights, and above all, take care of it. I have thought of the prefect out, which I would like to try tomorrow. Had a little lecture this morning on how I lost money on a certain job. I could say I was tired of losing money for you poor souls + had decided to find somebody else to do it for. But I suppose I’ll have to give a week’s notice, as it would be a dirty trick to leave even them in the lurch, or would it?
I bought a begonia. Didn’t water it the first day + it all but passed out. Begonias are a nice planty plant.
Miss Coates has gone to Florida for three weeks, for her arm. Funny thing happened Sunday morning. At 8:15, arrayed in the bathrobe, I made for the bathroom. And there, in the kitchen, getting her breakfast, was Miss Coates, no less, in her corset. So she couldn’t eat breakfast with me looking untidy – after one look at her in that state even going to the bathroom I have lost my appetite for. Missed the chance of a lifetime by not remarking on this.
We have a very cute model at the league. Young brunette girl in black tights.
Hope the laundry bag held together. Can you send a rag of two back? Not may, as I find Kleenex is not bad as a paint rag.
Guess I will take a bath, although Dr. a.K Oudrian says don’t.
Well, this has been some letter. Will try to do better if I ever stop feeling so rotten. Hope you are all better off.
Love, J
AC note: The League is the Art Student’s League where Janice was studying under Louis Bouche.
12:00 PM Wednesday, May 16 ‘45
Dear Folks,
This will get started now, although it may not be finished at one sitting. Just got back from viewing a broadcast, “Roundtable for Romance”, very funny + entertaining. The girl next door, one Gladys, gets tickets now and then. It was with her I went.
That book isn’t the same one although it looks good. Claims to be written in the same vein and with the same purpose in mind. The other book, Experiencing Pictures, is out of print now, it says on the flyleaf. Who published it? I doubt if I can exchange this one but will think about it after looking it over.
I beg to differ with the statement that the colored gentleman on the train was the first you exchanged a word with. Once before on a train you deserted the Shrimp and me for a colored gentleman (we were quite young) and I think you exchanged a word or two.
Things have been occurring here. The cold is now under control. I weakened and invested in some of the pills prescribed by A.K. Ourian. Those colds that you guys have, or have had, I hope are precisely the same as mine. The description could be of no other but this. Exactly the very germs, etc. I agree with Pop that it’s the worst one yet. Strange coincidence or something.
A cherry red + yellow letter, the last.
To be continued in the morning.
Morning – last weekend I stayed at Rogers Saturday and Sunday. Her brother in the army has some kind of sclerosis that paralyzes half of him, but is recovering now, so her parents left Sunday morning early to visit him, and we ran the house from then on. Had lobster for lunch, a rare experience for us both. Came in to N.Y. Sunday eve + saw ”A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” which is a tear-jerker. She slept on the floor of my room most of the night (with pillow + blankets, but yet). At 6 AM we discovered that we could both have fit on the bed, facing opposite ends. She survived, being about the toughest person there is. You should hear the list of things she takes at S.U. 11- hours class day. 3 hrs. waiting table, live saving lessons, flying lessons, and yet time for extra-extra curricular activities. She has been smoking too much and the old hand shakes, but with all, she maintains, the same robustage (sic) as before, if not more. Keeps recounting the various gay times she is having with one Harvey Hutcheon, a huge Canadian returned from the RCAF, a guy who was the answer to several maidens prayers when I was a frosh. She claims to have him wrapped around the little finger.
6:50 PM Next Day, Thursday, I think.
Central park + it looks like rain. I don’t like to get to class early, as then the monitor is busily arranging easels + I would feel I should help which is what I have no actual desire to do.
Just bought a pair of sandals to replace the baby-dolls that I sold Rogers for 2.00 without stamp because they fit her better than me. These are imitation black suede (sketch)
Got your penciled postcard this morning. Peggy shouldn’t worry, as I sent her a while ago one postcard with a big pink rose on the front, assuring her that all plans were okay.
When Rogers was a frosh, she counted among her following an unwelcome individual, against whom she claims to have used all means of discouragement. He was by name Bill Adrian (pronounced with disgust). Dopiest of the dopey, a goon to end all goons, says she. I have only seen him, and that is no great treat. Some years he was a travelling salesman, + some he went to S.U. where he went to classes without paying + wrote corny + imbecillic poetry for the D.O (Daily Orange, campus paper – ac) And now, we read in the paper, “From Script Writer to Actor in 3 Weeks” + it goes on to display a picture of this person + give his life history. It seems he is to be in “The Yearling” And it is too late for a reconciliation, (not that she’d want one) as he has married a childhood sweetheart.
Now it is starting time, and I shall get up and stagger over to 57th Street + so upstairs to Bouche.
B. Duck writes she too, will be in town this weekend. Never rains hut it snows.
love, J
May 22nd Postcard
Dear Folks,
It has been an active week and week-end. Too much to put on a post-card, but I am short of time and stamps, so-
I am stiff, and you probably see Peggy hobbling around if she is able to get out of bed. Coney Island was fun. Could you include my bathing suit in the package?
The laundry bag arrived and the cookies came in very handy. That was a record for laundry bag packing. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
More of this soon. love, J
5:00 PM Sat May 22
Dear Folks,
I am writing this from the edge of the roof, and it’s a good thing for the street cleaners that I am not one foot farther south.
The sun is supposedly shining here, although a stiff breeze has mustered up no small about of their cloud. A handsome young gentleman who was sunning himself on the next roof below has disappeared and maybe he had the right idea. It is getting a little chilly.
Regina, Gerda, and I hope to go swimming tomorrow if the weather permits. They say Jones Beach, but I fear that is a little far. Coney Island isn’t so crowded yet as to be obnoxious. Regina and I bought bathing suits today, but you can still send my other one sometime. The new job is white with large pink + lavender pansies, very two-piece..
I have discovered from here several back yards with trees growing in them and grass. Linden trees, Gerda says they are. Large round, thin-stemmed trees with leaves like this – (sketch). Gerda is a nice young thing who lives on fifth floor. She looks a little like Nelia Hazard only lighter. Dramatics student, and from the country.
I bumped into an acquaintance on Fifth Ave, today. One Matt La Russo, who graduated this year, after starting a long time ago and quitting after three years because of bad health. He’s working here somewhere. Was an illustrator. Everybody that’s down here from S.U. seems to be connected with the arts.
Which potholder did you get? There were two. I think the orange and black one was arranged around the watch. Peggy left one behind which was hers, so maybe Mrs. Moore was accidentally presented with the other one. Oh well.
Classes are over, and I will certainly miss the place. Night before last the model was sick, so I was drafted into posing because, as Lou said, I needed the money ($3.00). Very considerate of the old dear. He got a fairly good likeness, for him. Only four people painted altogether. I had a hard time keeping a straight face, as everyone was being very funny, especially Prof. Bouche. All shaking hands, saying goodbye, and generally loafing around. L. Burnett makes horrible faces while painting, I discover, and mutters things, getting desperate toward the end, as if packing a suitcase for a train which leaves in five minutes. Prof. B. bawled me out for mot planning pictures before splashing into ‘em. Says the features are too big in my last painting. The face on his masterpiece downstairs is lopsidedo I don’t know weather to believe him or not. Sometimes I think his personal value is merely decorative.
Haven’t looked up that weekend painting expedition yet. Its headquarters are at the Village. One Mr. Fisher is the boss. He has a class down there, and furnishes transportation + instruction on the trips. They don’t get much farther than the outskirts of the city, what with lack of gasoline, but according to Mr. Boza, a middle-aged wolf, who was a Spanish nobleman in his day, they do some good things. This Fisher, says Mr. Boza, knows the countryside and has all the good painting places marked off.
I haven’t called up about the Stage Door Canteen sketching yet. If Dick can do it, so can I, and he says there was a shortage of sketchers a while ago.
One thing I have done is made a date with a dentist. Dr. Mac Donald, recommended by Dr. Garrison of Syracuse. June 6, at 3:00. Can’t do much business with him though, as he is not open Saturdays, or after 5:00.
I always thought tripe was a tough kind of fish until the other day. Don’t think I’ll order it again, but tough isn’t exactly what it was.
What makes a begonia stop blossoming? I water it plenty and set it out in the sun every morning.
Is Ann still among you and how’s she now?
Three letters in one day. You, the Shrimp, and Mrs. Rodgers, I have written. There will be more of this sort of thing now that some spare time is coming up.
love, J
Harrison S. Campbell
Postcard postmarked May 30
Dear Folks,
No new developments here. Today we have off, and went out to Coney Island. It gives sand all over the anatomy, especially in the hair. Sandruff it then becomes.
That seems to be all here is today. love, J
9:30 PM Thursday, May 31
Dear Folks,
Here I am listening to Chopin’s Polonaise for the second or third time today. WLIB gets in a rut sometimes.
Long or rather thick yellow letter came this morning. No need for apologies, it was meaty as usual.
All day I have been wrestling with designs (funny thing – the announcer, at the conclusion of Ravell’s “Bolero” said he thought he heard two “clinkers” back there, whatever they are, a discord of some sort, so says he, it can happen in the best of concerts, so says he, lets go back and listen to the end of that again, which he does. Yep, he says, two clinkers) oh yes, designs for four tops, of the spinning variety – dogs, pigs, and things chasing each other around, which is the easy part. But when it comes to dividing the circumference of a circle into 45 equal parts I lose my grip. Also the present sticker – for which I see no possible solution. It consists of three colored bands, whirling this, no this way (sketch of a spiral) ---- regular and mechanically drawn. The only way I can figure is the invention of a compass which automatically and gradually opens up in proportion to the amount of space covered. Or is there some other way, using the ordinary compass?
Hoppman has gone into the toy making business. One weekend he turned out a really very presentable elephant on a stick, which wags the head + tail when pushed. A better looking elephant you will seldom see. Yellow. Looked a bit like Hoppman.
The sandruff is still with me.
Quick, Moon – what would you like for the coming birthday? There must be certainly be something or several things. Those potholders are both yours. A foolish notion. We were standing around buying a cow and there were stacks of those, sooooo.
I have enrolled for this Saturday’s painting class. They go out to farming country around Hackensack. Down at the Village they are having the famous sidewalk exhibit that has made Life Magazine. Pencil sketches at $5.00 a throw. Crazy artists proudly strutting about in deep tans and strange garb. The Kelly Gorton type mostly. They seem to think being queer is an art n itself, the mastering of which sets them far above the ordinary mortal. I have never felt so normal in my life.
Saturday night about 1:00 there comes the patter of running footsteps, the clang of an alarm, and in about 60 seconds 7 or 8 fire trucks have arrived in the scene they do their stuff and leave. At 4:00 they come back and do it all over again. I had a ringside seat.
When does my insurance come due, so I can buy war bonds and listen to the radio with a clear conscience? Should I start a new policy now?
I’m gonna call my new comic strip Stuporman.
I now write the Shrimp.
love, J
Oil painting of the Shrimp - by either Mary Wands Campbell or Janice
9:20 AM Saturday June 9
Dear Folks,
Time I answer a few letters, one thing which I have been neglecting this week. We worked from 9 to ( nearly every day, which resulted in a big fat $32.00 pay check, even after deductions. And in the spare time, like a sap, I’ve been knitting a sweater (like sample). Just finished the back. This one will button down the front.
I shall fare forth into the city this morning and during the course of my wanderings I will ask about false whiskers. In Regina’s business they apply it in small hunks, hair by hair even, with glue. This weekend we planned to do “old” makeup on each other. Then I want to stagger out on the street and get the public reaction.
The guy okayed the done-by-hand whirler. This egg-head submitted these tops with three little pigs, an animal band, and four running dogs, all dressed up and crudely drawn. Pigs + dogs walking flat-footed in shoes. I made a few changes and improvements, we all thought, such as pigs’ feet on the pigs, donkey’s feet on the donkey, attached the arms at the shoulder instead of at the knees where they were apt to be on his. Changed the legs to walking position instead of trailing along behind. Anyway the guy came + was shocked. I had to do ‘em all over, tracing his line for line. That’s the customer for ya.
Heard from the Shrimp and he says don’t write until further notice. Does he mean it? I have some photos to send him.
Regina and I splurged on a steak dinner last week. I suspect it was horse, but it was good although a trifle tough.
The Hoppmans have been peachy for the last few weeks. I will stay until after my weeks vacation, unless replaced by some “crackerjack” artist as Mr. H calls them. There are a few floating around now.
For my birthday I think that greenish dress would be good. You can wait till the week I’m home which will be any time but the first 2 weeks in July.
Guess it’s going to cloud over today.
What is so rare as a day in June, or did I say that before?
love, J
Postcard postmarked June 11
Dear Moon,
Happy Birthday and stuff. If they are too large maybe they’ll shrink when washed. Hoppy has hired a new girl to start tomorrow.
I am cooling off on a bench in Madison Square Park.
love, J
10:30 PM Thursday, June 14
Dear Folks,
We will call this a special Father’s day number. Although I don’t know why we should, as there was no Mother’s Day number, but anyway it will try to be a letter of some sort.
It is a hot sticky night and I recently returned from work. 12-hour days seem to be a regular thing now. I would be just as happy if they didn’t continue all summer, but business shows no signs of slowing down. Keeps piling up, new accounts rearing their ugly heads on very side. Hoppy has hired a new girl, one Wilma Berk, who had a very promising portfolio, the neatness of which decided Hoppy, but now it seems that she is slow, inexperienced, can’t letter, can’t draw, and besides all this has turned out to be Jewish. I don’t think she will be with us after next week. It is difficult and I know exactly how she must feel. The difference between her beginning and mine is that she knows enough to keep her mouth shut at the right times. It takes a sad case like this tl make Hoppy appreciate the true value of his other help. Last night I was informed by him, surprisingly enough, tht he had never seen anybody who could draw, any given object as fast as I and that I was also an excellent letterer which was why he hired me. They are now as sweet as pie. On well, it continues to be good experience. Lately I’ve been thinking again that sometime I’d like to try the Disney Studios, after the war, maybe. Wish there were a Disney Studio in Maine or Alaska.
Heard from B. Duck today. I gather that she plans to be up in your territory late in June.
What’s all this about the Shrimp? Sounds like a first-rate overstuffed pipe-dream. I keep hearing from him now and then, each letter with a different address. Which one are you writing to?
Rogers claims to be coming in Saturday and bringing an oil portrait of herself done by Lee Trim, that travelling quick sketcher at S.U. I’m gonna make a few changes on it.
Regina and I have acquired a Reputation, thanks to Sharkey, who has been spreading misinformation to the effect that we are a couple of street-walking so-and-sos. He has always been very nice to us, the old soak, babbling stuff about our being the two nicest girls in the house. I think he got his start the other evening, when we appeared with two sailors (something new and different for us). We fell in with the two when we were all looking for a way to get up a steep cliff to Palisades Park + ended up walking 2 miles to get there. We had a disagreement about the roller-coaster and parted, meeting again just in time for them to ferry, subway, and walk us home. They were quite gentlemanly, for sailors, or anybody that is to say. Young things. So now a Reputation is ours. Strikes me as funny, and Regina is indignant. No more candy for Sharky from us.
Miss Coats is back.
Now for bed + I am just getting woke up. Ah well.
love, J(AC note: I was taken aback by the “she is Jewish” comment. I can only think that it reflects the view of Mr. Hoppman. I never knew my mother or grandmother to have a prejudice against any race or religion, quite the contrary, they were both very open and liberal in their thinking.9:30 PM Sunday, June 17
Dear Folks,
Drip, drip. A break in the heat wave tomorrow, say the experts and I hope they are right for a change.
Can you get WNYC there? At 6:00 on Sunday PM there is a 15-minute program of bagpipe and Scottish music, with interesting information. Today they played the “Marine Hymn” and “Over there” on bagpipes, just to be different. They sang “cock o’ the North”, + “Road to the Isles”, + played “A Hundred Pipers +A’+A’” Learned that the U.S. Marine Corps has a bagpipe band, or did we know that? Also that it takes a 7-year course in the Bagpipe School on the Isle of Skye to turn out an expert bagpiper.
There is an oil painting of Rogers sitting on the table and every now and then I must get up and scratch at it. Did it today with a pallet knife from a Coney Island photo of her, after a futile day yesterday with the real model. It was fun, though. We went up to the 90th St. Entrance to Central Park, where we had never been before. There is a big reservoir up there + the grass is deep. Very deserted, except for an occasional horsebacker bouncing by on the bridle path. It was a filthy, dirty place, + we took off our shoes + got the feet + legs blackened. Couldn’t do much with the painting, as there immediately arrived on the scene a sort of Marine from Minnesota named Bill who kept us in stitches for hours. Rogers psychoanalyzed him, which is always a good approach. Asked all kinds of questions and got some of the most terrific answers. He is one who speaks what is on the mind without bothering to proofread it first, an ideal subject. Very entertaining, but not conducive to portraiture and from time to time, I found myself painting in an eyebrow from Bill onto Rogers. So I painted Bill on the inside cover of a shoebox. We became very fond of the little dear as the day wore on but all things must come to an end, and so did this when we pronounced him sane. Were we dirty! Came home, took baths, painted more, had supper in a Balkan Restaurant, + so home. I’m not sure Rogers will make a good psychologist. She’s too normal. It seems to me that a person who has had some problem himself is better equipped to deal sympathetically with other muddled minds. She is seeking a philosophy of life, which is alright but nothing to worry about. Maybe there is a distinction between normal + abnormal psychology + she can specialize in the former. Yes, I guess there is enough of this.
My Phone Number had been changed to Murray Hill 2-6943.
Hoppman will give me the first week of July off Bunny Duck (B. Duck - ac) will be up the first weekend, too. Hope Hoppman doesn’t change the mind,
It must be in the books that I don’t get to church this morning. I dressed up, took the El to 76th St. 10:30 said the watch, so I strolled leisurely through the park. Ten minutes later the watch still said 10:30, so I asked somebody the time, 11:00, she said. So here I am wandering around in the maze of paths, too late for church and not knowing which way is west. And I really intended to go to church. When you guys are down here, maybe we can make it.
G’nite.
Hotly yours, J.(this letter was written in pencil - ac)
Dear Folks,
We will call this a special Father’s day number. Although I don’t know why we should, as there was no Mother’s Day number, but anyway it will try to be a letter of some sort.
It is a hot sticky night and I recently returned from work. 12-hour days seem to be a regular thing now. I would be just as happy if they didn’t continue all summer, but business shows no signs of slowing down. Keeps piling up, new accounts rearing their ugly heads on very side. Hoppy has hired a new girl, one Wilma Berk, who had a very promising portfolio, the neatness of which decided Hoppy, but now it seems that she is slow, inexperienced, can’t letter, can’t draw, and besides all this has turned out to be Jewish. I don’t think she will be with us after next week. It is difficult and I know exactly how she must feel. The difference between her beginning and mine is that she knows enough to keep her mouth shut at the right times. It takes a sad case like this tl make Hoppy appreciate the true value of his other help. Last night I was informed by him, surprisingly enough, tht he had never seen anybody who could draw, any given object as fast as I and that I was also an excellent letterer which was why he hired me. They are now as sweet as pie. On well, it continues to be good experience. Lately I’ve been thinking again that sometime I’d like to try the Disney Studios, after the war, maybe. Wish there were a Disney Studio in Maine or Alaska.
Heard from B. Duck today. I gather that she plans to be up in your territory late in June.
What’s all this about the Shrimp? Sounds like a first-rate overstuffed pipe-dream. I keep hearing from him now and then, each letter with a different address. Which one are you writing to?
Rogers claims to be coming in Saturday and bringing an oil portrait of herself done by Lee Trim, that travelling quick sketcher at S.U. I’m gonna make a few changes on it.
Regina and I have acquired a Reputation, thanks to Sharkey, who has been spreading misinformation to the effect that we are a couple of street-walking so-and-sos. He has always been very nice to us, the old soak, babbling stuff about our being the two nicest girls in the house. I think he got his start the other evening, when we appeared with two sailors (something new and different for us). We fell in with the two when we were all looking for a way to get up a steep cliff to Palisades Park + ended up walking 2 miles to get there. We had a disagreement about the roller-coaster and parted, meeting again just in time for them to ferry, subway, and walk us home. They were quite gentlemanly, for sailors, or anybody that is to say. Young things. So now a Reputation is ours. Strikes me as funny, and Regina is indignant. No more candy for Sharky from us.
Miss Coats is back.
Now for bed + I am just getting woke up. Ah well.
love, J(AC note: I was taken aback by the “she is Jewish” comment. I can only think that it reflects the view of Mr. Hoppman. I never knew my mother or grandmother to have a prejudice against any race or religion, quite the contrary, they were both very open and liberal in their thinking.9:30 PM Sunday, June 17
Dear Folks,
Drip, drip. A break in the heat wave tomorrow, say the experts and I hope they are right for a change.
Can you get WNYC there? At 6:00 on Sunday PM there is a 15-minute program of bagpipe and Scottish music, with interesting information. Today they played the “Marine Hymn” and “Over there” on bagpipes, just to be different. They sang “cock o’ the North”, + “Road to the Isles”, + played “A Hundred Pipers +A’+A’” Learned that the U.S. Marine Corps has a bagpipe band, or did we know that? Also that it takes a 7-year course in the Bagpipe School on the Isle of Skye to turn out an expert bagpiper.
There is an oil painting of Rogers sitting on the table and every now and then I must get up and scratch at it. Did it today with a pallet knife from a Coney Island photo of her, after a futile day yesterday with the real model. It was fun, though. We went up to the 90th St. Entrance to Central Park, where we had never been before. There is a big reservoir up there + the grass is deep. Very deserted, except for an occasional horsebacker bouncing by on the bridle path. It was a filthy, dirty place, + we took off our shoes + got the feet + legs blackened. Couldn’t do much with the painting, as there immediately arrived on the scene a sort of Marine from Minnesota named Bill who kept us in stitches for hours. Rogers psychoanalyzed him, which is always a good approach. Asked all kinds of questions and got some of the most terrific answers. He is one who speaks what is on the mind without bothering to proofread it first, an ideal subject. Very entertaining, but not conducive to portraiture and from time to time, I found myself painting in an eyebrow from Bill onto Rogers. So I painted Bill on the inside cover of a shoebox. We became very fond of the little dear as the day wore on but all things must come to an end, and so did this when we pronounced him sane. Were we dirty! Came home, took baths, painted more, had supper in a Balkan Restaurant, + so home. I’m not sure Rogers will make a good psychologist. She’s too normal. It seems to me that a person who has had some problem himself is better equipped to deal sympathetically with other muddled minds. She is seeking a philosophy of life, which is alright but nothing to worry about. Maybe there is a distinction between normal + abnormal psychology + she can specialize in the former. Yes, I guess there is enough of this.
My Phone Number had been changed to Murray Hill 2-6943.
Hoppman will give me the first week of July off Bunny Duck (B. Duck - ac) will be up the first weekend, too. Hope Hoppman doesn’t change the mind,
It must be in the books that I don’t get to church this morning. I dressed up, took the El to 76th St. 10:30 said the watch, so I strolled leisurely through the park. Ten minutes later the watch still said 10:30, so I asked somebody the time, 11:00, she said. So here I am wandering around in the maze of paths, too late for church and not knowing which way is west. And I really intended to go to church. When you guys are down here, maybe we can make it.
G’nite.
Hotly yours, J.(this letter was written in pencil - ac)
8:00 PM Saturday June 23
Dear Folks,
From now on you had best address your letters to 236 E. 53rd St. Phone Plaza 8-1227, which is where I now hang my hat.
It seems as it 2/3 of my valuable time for the last five years has been spent in staggering down streets, up stairs, and in + out of busses with large suitcases, boxes, bales, rolls, bags, small suitcases, one of which invariably manages to keep getting between the ankles, reducing the rate of speed to two steps at a time. But today was the moving day to end all moving days. I took it slow and easy, knowing that Coates wanted me to get out the sooner the better. Found a place last night without any trouble. Regina went along. At the Y they gave me three different addresses, and the first one we tried I took. There is a huge bed, in fact the room is large and there are three trees outside the window. It’s on the third floor, a walk up, red bricks. More homey than the 175, but not quite such a neat neighborhood. It’s on the other side of the 3rd Ave. El, but you can hardly hear it from there. A south exposure, which gives on a backyard outdoor dining room, part of a place called “the Dugout”. This house is run by a man and his wife. The old geezer, about 65, does all the housework, makes beds, etc. Mr. Twite. I haven’t seen Mrs. Twite yet, but doubt if Mr. T has any Coatish tendencies. A spry old guy, and not at all deaf.
Anyway, I started packing leisurely this morning. The first load, (consisting of the airplane luggage, the big black suitcase, the little brown one, two cartons, the laundry bag, and the portfolio, was delivered by way of taxi. On the second trip, with the airplane luggage and an armful of shoeboxes + things, I took the trolley. Trip No. 3, by El, was the nightmare. Laden with several framed canvases, tied to a large flat cardboard box with a strap, + carried by the strap thus (sketch) stopping every two feet to fix it like this (sketch) only to have it two feet later, like this again (sketch). On the other side we have about 20 stretcher strips (hunks of wood) wrapped up in half a dozen un stretched canvases. Somewhere on the scene there were two mailing tubes, which are hard to get when you want ‘em. Also, the knitting bag, full of stuff, which is what kept getting between the ankles. There was a trolley coming, but I missed it because just as the light changed in the middle of 3rd Ave something slipped and all twenty stretcher strips clattered forth in the path of traffic. The fact that I managed to give the mess a healthy kick didn’t simplify matters, but some kind man helped me pick the things up and somehow I got to the corner where passers by for the next five minutes probably surmised that I was trying to throw up a lean-to against the corner drugstore. Another kind man finally tied a few knots and I got up to the El. I was crammed next to a drunk, who kept inshishting that I couldn’t build a fensh with thoshe. On 53rd street there was another slight mishap and when I looked up from the sidewalk I was being kissed by a big fat police dog. His owner said that he (the dog) would like to help if he could. And I’ll bet he would. I could certainly have used a stout helper.
I am in Regina’s room waiting for a phone call from B. Duck, which I don’t think will come. She’s in town seeing her friend Rachel, and insists that I spend some time with them tomorrow, and I would like to, only tomorrow is the only and last day that Regina + Gerda are going to the beach + I hate to miss out on that.
Intermission. 12:00 B. Duck called up, I met her, took her up to 236, we ate, escorted her to Rachel’s abode, came back, having forgotten my key + had to wake up Mr. Twite. Had another run in with Coates when I tried to leave a note for one Bertha, in the room next to where I usta be. “You can’t go in there, young lady” she sez, “give me the note + I will take it in. She has to keep reminding me I don’t live there any more, or perhaps she just doesn’t trust me. For quite some time, I haven’t disliked anybody as much as I do her now, knowing that she’s really an old dear if you get on the right side of the old x@%*. The other 2 old ladies there have been very sympathetic, + helpful, when sober.
We’re going to the beach tomorrow if it doesn’t rain
Hoppman fired Wilma, hired Jean, fired Jean, + hired Lillian, a jolly German. She is good + will stay if Hoppy can keep her. I go to bed now. Ah yes, Could you make me a dentist appointment somewhere in the valley at this late date for 2 extractions anytime next week? If not, okay.
love, J
(a switch to black ink – ac)
Tuesday PM July 10 (My Phone Plaza 8-1227)
Dear Folks,
A coolish night for a change, after thunderstorms. I have just washed nine pairs of stocking and strung a closeline (sic) from chair to chair.
It would be nice if this were last Tuesday instead of this Tuesday, but ot well, in that case I would have a tooth-pulling to look forward to.
Got a letter from Shrimp today and he was real funny about the fate of flying fishes. Also one from Rogers again. I don’t know how she’s going to hang on up there for the rest of the summer – after one week she is going crazy for civilization – sitting around gnawing on pine cones she says.
The three chairs in my room laid end to end would make a bed, as the back of the big one is adjustable. You guys had better take advantage of this before I decide to move into the Studio Club. However, the waiting list being long, I wouldn’t get in till late fall anyway. In the next Laundry Bag I will send a copy of Cue Magazine to be looked over for desirable plays.
I looked over the white shoe market today.
Would cloth be satisfactory or do you prefer pigskin? In linen there is one (sketch) like this, and of course, things like this (sketch) or this (sketch) or this (sketch) while the pigskin things run to this (sketch) or this (sketch) or would you prefer a spectator (sketch) the point being, I guess, is it cloth or pigskin? Are these to be Sunday school shoes? Will closed toe + heel be acceptable?A quaint neighborhood I am in., a good place to explore. Third Avenue is one solid antique shop nearly from 53rd St. up. Down toward the river there are some super snazzy apartment buildings with trees.
Hoppmans are working this week, when they had planned to be taking a vacation. Haven’t seen Regina yet, saw Gerda tonite, called Bertha last night but “@#%*” said she was out. Sharkey says she’s still around, so she must have taken some kind of nourishment.
Not much of a letter this, but it is the hay I must be hitting now.
love, J.
Postcard postmarked July 16
Dear Folks,
Bah, what a day! Went painting with Fisher’s class again, and it poured. Started out the paint an apple tree, + cabbage field, ended up painting back side of horse in stable.
The laundry bag will be along one of these days. Enclosed find one pair of (slightly worn) white shoes (2.50) which I hope are okay. They’re getting hard to get again.
love, J
7:00 PM Wednesday, July 18
Dear Folks,
If you’ve been having as much rain as we have, what a mess you must be. Ivery day for the last five or six days it has rained ¾ of the time. Monotonous as this my sound, there is really a bit of variety. According to the radio, today we had intermittent rain, tomorrow scattered showers.
I am watching the soldiers and sailors eat supper and wondering what could be done with a bean shooter by a person hiding behind the curtains up here. They have a ping-pong table over there, In the letter I just finished writing the Shrimp, I got off a good imitation of a ping-pong ball. Thus – bip----bip-----bip-----bip-----bip-bip-bip-biddle-diddle-diddle.
(the ink is getting fainter and fainter – ac.) If the laundry bag plans to get home, it is there by mow. I didn’t get your shoe letter until they were already bought. A while ago when I was looking for black shoes all they had anywhere was white, and now, as I begin to get interested in white shoes, they are getting in fall blacks + browns. In the words of the clerk, “You are likely to get a fit in these”, (all this bottle of ink needed was to be shook up) This si the kind of show everybody wears shopping here. I hope they fit and are okay, they seem to be kinda similar to things you have had. I had to wear ‘em home, which accounts for the “New York sole”. If they’re not what you want, send ‘em back. In the next laundry bag will be a bit of extra space. How about a couple of rags? Just something to shine shoes with. There will be the two cotton skirts and the pink polka dot top if you have it finished. If you are racking the brain for something to include for the inner me, a couple of boiled eggs would do the trick, if the hens are not flooded out by now.
I have seldom passed a less eventful two weeks than the last, unless you would call last Sunday an event. Anyway, I have cought up on washing, reading, letter writing. (there is a handsome gentleman grinning out of a fifth-story window across the way. flutter-flutter.) Now I have forgot what I was going to say. Oh yes, now Regina has bed-bugs, too. When they (Gerda + Regina) are not looking for an apartment they spend their spare time scrubbing, spaying, and exterminating, all in vain. From Sharky I hear that Miss Coates caught Regina spraying her mattress and gave her bloody blazes. I am eager to hear Regina’s version of this.
Last night at 9:00 over WABC there was a program that is really different. (the handsome gent is making window raising motions at me, he has a friend with him) Anyway, this program. Last night it concerned the trial of an erring molecule,. There were all sorts of important actors in it. Rob’t Benchly, Keenan Wynn, etc. and the whole thing was spoken in rhyme. Real clever. A little like Ogden Nash, and similar to stuff you have turned out. Written by somebody name of Norman
Conroy or something like that. Comes on every weekend. Well, tally-ho.
love, J
Tues. P.M. July 24
Dear Folks,
Another 12-hour day is no more. Things are so rushed that Hoppmans are going to hire a Man, although where they will put him, I do not know.
Today it didn’t rain once. Not at all, not even twice. Yesterday the radio reported humidity – 100%. How can that be? It wasn’t raining at the time. 100% can’t mean that the atmosphere is solid H2O can it? No it must be just saturated.
Three postcards from you in the last 2 days. Have you heard from the
Shrimp? The letters from him 2 weeks ago are the last I’ve had.
Are those Reynolds kids coming to you, or do ya go to them? I envy you not.
I finally got to see Bertha Sunday. Woke her up, unfortunately. She hadn’t been able to sleep all night and had just dropped off by afternoon when I put in a appearance. She’s about able to eat, but still doesn’t feel up to scratch. Works till 9:00 + 9:30 six days a week, so no wonder. Never has time to go anywhere or do anything. Claims to love her work, however. Says the “relatives” Coates needed my room for never showed up. The old hag probably hadn’t counted on my finding this out. With all her crust you’d think she would have let me in on the actual reasons for my being ousted, as if I didn’t know anyway. Gerda + Regina have harsh words with her because of spraying their mattresses with de-bed bugger and making spots. Sharky says, “she’s a terrible woman”.
I did get up to Bronx Park Sunday. Not the Zoo, however, as it was threatening rain and I was told it was in the far side of the park. I was in the Botanical Gardens. The most impressive thing was a huge greenhouse – each room of which represented the growths of a different climate. There was a cactus room, a South American + African room, with 30-foot palms + things. One very hot room with hanging moss which one has to plow aside to get through. A fern room + a lily pond. I see the Wandering Jew is a native of Mexico. Was this building here when you were? The park was practically deserted. I got involved in a pine grove, on the other side of which was supposed to be the rose garden. I found the rose garden, which was more impressive than the one in Thornden. Spent the next hour trying to find a way to get back through the pine woods to where it all began and at the same time elude a certain nondescript specimen that I kept meeting up with a suspiciously large number of times. I would not have realized this coincidence if he had not always made remarks such as, “Wandering around, huh?”, or “Third time we’ve met – next time your treat.” The next time it wasn’t a treat yet, and methought I saw him skulking around preparing for a fifth encounter but I managed to attach myself to a family group and was certainly glad to get back to civilization by following them.
Speaking of queer people, I was strolling on the East Side Saturday, when sitting on the curb outside of what seemed to be a hospital or home for something was a ordinary looking man, dejected, with head in hands and emitting with every breath, the most peculiar sound, such as made by a crow. It wasn’t human. Nobody was paying much attention to him but you could hear him for blocks.
Do you know exactly when you’ll be down? If so, then I’ll know when to get tickets for a play. Hoppman offers to let me have a day off, although I sort of hate to. They also will bring in a portable cot they have in case I need it.
What’s wrong with this diet + what can I do about it on $25 a week. For one day, on the average – at least a pint of milk, an orange, a carrot (raw) + maybe an apricot or two, one egg, about 5 slices of bread (peanut butter and cheese spread), (small amount of meat of fish sometimes, + maybe a small dab of vegetable, potato, or what have they). Piece of cake or candy bar, various + sundry raisins + dried stuff. I’ve started having cereal for breakfast some days, when it is cool enough to keep milk overnight. Reading this over, it doesn’t sound like much. When eating out, I get salads, or a plate consisting or for instance, hunk of hamburger, potatoes + vegetable. That’s the area in parenthesis. Oh, well – ignore this. It is very confusing.
Thursday, oh joy, I go to the dentist. I now gather up strength to go down + wash + so to bed.
love, J.
P.S. Yes, I have brass buttons which I hook together with wire in a peculiar way.
4:40 PM Saturday, July 28
Dear Folks,
A quick one before I go down to 175 Lexington for Regina and Gerda and then back up to 52nd St. for a movie.
It rains as usual. Tonight I guess I’ll call up B. Duck and cancel tomorrow’s date with her. This is getting to be regular thing.
You’ve probably heard about the B-25 that crashed into the 79th floor of the Empire State. First time this has ever happened. Part of the plane fell into a sculptor’s studio on 33rd St. + ruined his complete life’s work. I am hearing about this right now on the radio. I was in my room, heard the plane go over, heard the crash + looked out in time to see through the fog a burst of flame, although I couldn’t see the building because of the fog. After I heard about it on the radio, I beat it down there. They were still putting the fire out. I guess it went right through the building. Made a big black hole.
Got the letter with the black tie this morning, but no laundry bag yet.
I’m living on California sardines today. Did I have a heck of a time getting the can open. You can’t buy a can opener that works. Ended up using a hammer + making a nail hole perforation around the edge.
I’ve been having the quaintest dreams lately. One night Moon was elected mayor and there was a big celebration – airplanes looping around with banners + confetti + streamers strewn all over the valley. Another night, among other things there was a horde of squirrels digging up somebody’s apple garden – tossing the apples around for sport.
Rogers is expected to town soon. Whoopee!
No more room, + no more time right now, which is just as well as I’m all said out.
love, J.
Postcard postmarked Aug 1
Dear Folks,
Rain yet. Nevertheless I went out to B.Duck’s yesterday + we had a goodish time, considering – museums, movies, etc.
The laundry bad came Monday. Everything fine except one egg which was in pretty bad shape.
Rogers is in town.
No excitement here,
love, J
6:40 PM Thursday, Aug. 2
Dear Folks,
The sun is shining, of all things. On a letter writing night of course. It always drizzles on concert nights.
That last letter was a letter to end all letters, which I trust it will not do. I wish I could reply in kind, but nothing writeable has happened here. What a letter! A masterpiece. Those comments on the Empire State Building covered an angle the papers seemed to have missed. From what I read, the pilot didn’t get much credit, scarcely a mention.
I will make Gayle a paper doll if you say so + tell me which type she prefers.
There is a lot of gold braid eating downstairs tonight. As I leaned out once, I fancied I saw a general or something wave at me, but I guess he was just shooing a fly. If I get any notice at all up here it is from the waitresses.
I saw a red-headed darky on the bus tonight. A red mustache he had, too.
East 52nd St. is quite a place for restaurants. I read that the famous Stork clun is also in E. 53rd St. The soup l, Lyons mentions probably costs about .85 cents per bowl.
For 2 hours this afternoon, Hoppy and Mr. Raul, the engraver, wrangled over a job that Mr. H had done wrong. Technical difficulties besieged them at every turn. Many rising, I think, from the fact that when Mr. Paul says, “sat’s light,” there is no way of telling whether he says, that’s light, or that’s right. Whew things came too thick + fast he remarked, “I’m Solly, I can’t sink” + paced the floor awhile till the air cleared. They say they settled something, but I think this is the beginning of a headache for Hoppman. However, the solid German can take a lot of punishment + still come up for more. He is not yet ready for the padded cell,
Virginia’s mother called up this morning and has a girl age 17 who had art experience + thinks she is just what Mr. Hoppman needs. The girl’s father is bringing her in tomorrow. Maybe they will end up hiring her father, who is also an artist. Last week, they had an ad in the times for a man which resulted in one young guy. His work looked pretty good from where I sat, he was experienced, but his name was Kornhauser and they didn’t consider him. So now we get another girl. Hoppman’s harem. Bah.
I finally got around to officially signing up for hospital sketching. I start a week from tomorrow. Also next Wednesday I’m going along with Virginia to see about blood donating. About time I did something useful.
Rogers is working on her thesis already. 8 months before it’s due, no less. She calls me up every now and then when I am not home.
I’m reading “Dragon Seed” by Pearl Buck. I like it better than I did “Farewell to Arms” by E. Hemingway. There is a bareness to his style.
Haven’t seen Gerda + Regina all week. I am sure they think I have fallen into evil ways. Last weekend they expressed extreme concern over my going to concerts along. (I’ve asked Gerda to go several times – she’s always too tired or something) on parting last Sat. nite, she warned me solemnly to be a good girl, please. Actually I don’t see what the full is about. You are surrounded by people up there + I wear flat heels for a quick getaway. A knitting needle is a good weapon, nut who’s going to bother you in the middle of a crowd of music appreciators? I do not like to sit home every night and can’t afford movies all the time.
Last night they had a contest. They played excerpts from pieces that had been played this season. Everybody that knew wrote the name + author on an entry blank. About 20 numbers there were in al. I scribbled down mostly wild guesses + erased ‘em + guessed again, all of which made me look very learned (Actually I had about 5 right) and a child prodigy came over + started asking me things. Surprising how much some of these people know about music.
Also last night I dreamed of a dog. A “Sausage-dog” they called him. His head, feet, etc. were retractable so that like a turtle he was only sausage shaped. Hairless, too. “Pick him up”, the owners said, “he feels like a sausage”. (sketch) He did.
Now I must write the Shrimp. We have been neglecting each other.
love, J
(AC note, Once again, a somewhat surprising thing, to hear my mother refer to a black man as a “darky”…at least it wasn’t the N word.)
Postcard postmarked Aug 7
Dear Folks,
Thanks for the can-opener. Did you try it out?
We are now eating lunch in the drug store.
Have you decided yet on the vacation date?
I would write a letter but an all written out, having favored ? the Shrimp with a 7-page job last night.
love, J
9:20 PM Thurs. Aug 9
Dear folks,
Here is a hottish evening. The girl at the end of the hall has company + there is much babbling, shrieking, etc. I have just returned from the library and I now have “Gone With the Wind”, + expect to have it for some time. Here books can be kept out for 4 weeks, but no renewal is possible. I think you can also take out more than 2 altho I never have.
sketch of Arthur MeyerjackHere is Pres. Truman on the radio. What do you think of the atomic bomb?
Yesterday Virginia and I went to the blood bank. Had I thought they would take an old wreck like me I would have gone before. It was not bad, the most painful part being the removal of the adhesive bandage this morning. We get free refreshments before and after, which in itself is enough recommendation.
Last weekend was a honey. Saturday I met Lillian, her sister, and her sister’s girl friend at the Hayden Planetarium, where we took a trip to the moon. After that we skinned through 2 floors of the Museum of Natural History. What a place! It would take a week to cover all six floors + not miss something.
Did you look over that Cue Magazine for good plays?
Sunday I took a trip to the Bronx. Got off at the Botanical Gardens, walked half a mile in one direction, hoping for the Zoo. Saw no sign of it, so asked a “good humor” (ice-cream) man where I might find the Zoo. He points in a northeasterly direction + says “Just follow the automobile road that way”, which I did until the road was no more, + asked 2 girls where it was. “Just take that path”, say they, pointing to a deserted hole in the woods. This I couldna do, alone, so I waited until a man + woman came along and followed at a discreet distance. They kept stopping to admire things and I kept passing + taking a wrong turn, backtracking + passing them. So finally I asked, “Is this the way to the Zoo”, which apparently scared the woman half to death + she hastened to say, “No-no-no! Just keep going in that direction – not this way!” I suspect they wanted mainly to get rid of me, as the second time I had passed, I fancied the man was whistling, “Hail, Hail, the Gang’s all Here”. So, I went in the direction she had indicated and a couple of other directions for good measure, and astonishingly, ended up at the Zoo. I’m not sure it was worth the struggle, but at least I now know where it is. Saw a Panda, 2 in fact. Hiked back through the Botanical Garden + rested the feet thus (sketch) on a very handy hunk of rock with tree attached. Altogether I think I walked 10 miles that weekend. It’s hard to realize that from here up to the Mall where I think nothing of going every other evening is a half hour’s fast walk. As far as Sayre. Doesn’t seem possible. Maybe it isn’t.
Was I glad to hear the alarm this morning. I had just dreamed I kicked out $10 worth of plate glass window in a rage. G’nite.
love, J
AC note. Sayre is the next town north of Athens, PA, where Janice grew up.
AC note – the following postcard contains a three-letter racial epithet which I never heard my mother use before. I guess it shows how even she was caught up in the fever of the times. I include it and I hope no one will be offended. RE: retouching glasses. I think part of her job was retouching the reflections on glasses in the advertising photos at Hoppman Studios.
Postcard postmarked Aug. 14
Dear Folks,
Is this not this card the cutest yet? Whew, what a day – retouching glasses from 9:00 – 9:00. I think Mr. Myerjack is going to be the life of the party + heaven knows it needs some life. Your two very similar postcards rec’d, the Friday one coming first. What the heck???
Only pay the can-opener party 10 cents, as that is what that style sells for here. I will try it again.
By the time you get this I hope the Japs are finished off. Everybody is waiting.
Love, J
P.S. don’t forget those glads you promised.
AC note: top of this letter decorated with hand drawn fireworks.
9:30 PM Tuesday Aug. 14, 1945
Dear Folks,
The old town is up on end, boat-horns are wailing in both rivers, people are shrieking, cars are beeping by, and from the direction of Broadway comes a continuous roar. I can not yet believe that this is V-J Day, in a week or so the facts may sink in.
We started in to work late tonight. But right after supper came the announcement officially and at last we felt justified in throwing paper out the window and while so doing, we managed to lose interest in glasses retouching to such an extent that Hoppy bade us all go out and make whoopee. Lillian and I went over to Broadway. One block on Fifth Avenue was knee-deep with pink, white and blue paper blanks of some sort. It was most pretty and fun to walk through. Further on a bunch of green squares were drifting down. And all over, confetti of every color + in our hair. Broadway was a brawl. Everybody squaking horns + kissing everybody else. Twice I lost Lillian – she didn’t resist properly + kept getting kissed. After several such encounters there was no more lipstick on Lillian, but somehow from the next sailor she got it back second hand. I whsh they had snapped a picture of this little episode – Lillian + a sailor in clinch and me bopping sailor on head with a pocketbook (my wristwatch was in there + I don’t dare look).
Scan the pictures of New York crowds for us. For a while I thought I was done for. Beset by a mon of about 6 Dead End type persons, black, white, and otherwise, and having lost Lillian, I was being mauled a bit, and shrieking as I had never shrieked before. Thus – Shriek! Shriek! Shriek! Seeing a gentleman watching al this + still being hauled about I shrieked at him beseechingly + he shrieked right back. Glad an I to be sitting here now instead of down there yet. I would not like to be a cop tonight.We’re going to work right through V-J day, as there is a big Oculens job being rushed. But he says he will give up 1 or 2 days off some other time, depending on how long o0ther places take off for this. Yes, the radio now says Wed. + Thurs. are holidays. That will come in handy when you guys are down.
When will we see the Shrimp? Do you think he will stay out another 6 months? And he had previously made a date with me for April 1, 1947.
I can not believe it.
Drat Rogers – She should be in town now. Maybe she is.
All this excitement is a drain on the individual. Strange as it may seem, there was a street cleaner trying to fulfil his duties down on Times Square tonight in the midst of the mob.
Firecrackers they are shooting yet + ringing cowbells.
Mr. Meyerjack is having one heck of a time getting readjusted. Not having had brush in hand for 4 years, he is very rusty + practically has to hang on the brush with both hands. He sweats, struggles, + puffs. Besides this he has a perpetual cold, as he coughs and sniffles. Hoppy thinks he will be alright after awhile, but personally I think he would be happier tilling the soil or chopping down trees. Retouching is such a wast of physique. He was urged into this job by a girl friend in a nearby office.
One thing you probably have in Athens, Pa. that is lacking here now is bells (church-bells). If there are any they must be drowned out by whatever that persistent wailing is. Boat-horns sound exactly like train whistles, which I like.
I still can not believe it.
I’m reading “Gone with the Wind” and now find that pages 730-763 have been removed neatly.
Well, best I go to bed after the proper formalities. Whoopee!
love, J
Postcard postmarked Aug 15
Wed AM
Dear Folks,
We aren’t working today + tomorrow after all, as we all got there and found the building locked. I dunno what to do with self.
Apologies about the can opener – I had been holding it wrong. Twite tried it + it worked.
I am trying to call up Rogers now + then.
Just killing time.
love, J
P.S. I am off to Baldwin, L.I.
10:30 PM Monday Aug. 20
Dear Folks,
I trust a discreet length of time has elapsed since that barrage of post-cards I sent you way. I now endeavor to stop peeling sunburn long enough to get off an inadequate answer to your last. A fine thing. You say that one failed miserably as a reply to mine + I say this one is entirely inadequate + you will probably say the next one can’t compare to this, etc. etc. so according to this we must be getting worse and worse, eh? When will it all stop?
Baldwin, L.I. was lovely last week, it was cloudy the first day so we went to the movies. Fred mcMurray in “Where do we Go from Here”. Rather good. Next day we went to Jones Beach + that’s why the sunburn. It was very crowded, what with the let-up of gas rationing. Did you ever see a sudden wind spring up ona crowded beach? People chasing umbrella around, people being knocked down by speeding umbrellas, altogether a gay + bizarre effect.
Rogers’ beautiful brother was home. I am convinced that he is the one for Virginia, but know not what to do about it. Best just forget it.
I finally got the heel turned on Mr. Rogers’ sock, on which I was working while there last Spring.
B. duck is quitting her job soon, to attend the University of Iowa this fall. She will be up around Athens + Wysox first.
I haven’t heard from the Shrimp in a long time. Now the censorship is off, I’m told, so he will be able to tell all, if he is not so much in the habit of telling nothing that he persists in so doing.
No, I never saw that green-haired lady.
Saturday night I finally after persistently calling up the hospital committee, got to go sketching. Fort Jay was the place, out near Staten Island. The red tape you have to go through! It’s a wonder they don’t charge us, and maybe they should at that. Big thick ham sandwiches were served at the recreation hall (there were four of us) and from there we went to Ward and C to do our stuff. The other girls were old hands at the trade. More fun it was. I used a rough tannish paper, soft black pencil, + white chalk for the highlights. It gave a very professional effect for 20 minute sketches. Had six victims in all.
1- A young squirt from Greenwich Village who looked like an artist but wasn’t.
2 - A young squirt from Brooklyn who was very cute but had his hair like this (sketch) of which I imagine he was very proud, so as a relief, I did.
3 - A middle aged colored gent from Wash. D.C. had been there 5 months (solid black hair, very simple) then,
4 – a young guy from N.J. writing a letter.
5 – A gruesome mess who had said that he wished he were 4-F as he could get in on the Black market.
6 – A very cute black boy from Manhattan playing solitaire. 1 ¾ hours wasn’t enough, + we were just getting warmed up.
Now I’m afraid I won’t get to go again until September. On the way back I found out the other 3 girls were fellow admirers of Thomas Wolfe, + one even knew personally one of his characters.
Arthur gets silenter + moroser all the time. He’s a war casualty alright. Just that once at supper was he actually talking. He really is deaf, too. Works too hard + gets nowhere much. What can we do but let him alone? I guess he has a good time outside of work.
Time to retire. So I do that. Lemme know soon about the vacation trip.
love, J
Postcard postmarked Aug 24
Thurs. 11:30 PM
Dear Folks,
Just got back from an evening of roller-skating with Lillian. Wore the poor girl all out.
We’ve been working like fiends lately + today everybody was silly, esp. me.
All of a sudden I’m informed there will be no more hospital sketching. Sunday I start at the Stage Door Canteen.
Still no word from Shrimp. I go to bed. love, J
10:15 PM Tuesday, Aug 28
Dear Folks,
A letter from Pop with check enclosed awaits me after this hard day. Here’s a brief one in return.
Here I am feeling like a snake’s heel, after just being bawled out by some person who flashed a discharge button + assured me he was not a bum but merely desired to walk + talk, didn’t know a soul in New York + why was I walking so fast (I was practically crawling) + he said he couldn’t keep up and I said he should eat Wheaties, which was the last straw. “I have been in a PW Camp for 2 years, he yells, and if all the other fellas that come home get such a nice welcome as this it’s just too bad! Thanks a lot!” sez he bitterly + stalks off. What is one to do? He was really mad.
I still haven’t heard from Shrimp.
Rogers spent the nite with me yesterday. My bed is perfect for double sleeping. Hardly knew she was there.
Went to the Stage door Canteen Sunday. I like the Hospital sketching better + I guess they haven’t discontinue it after all as the lady called up today + gave me 2 appointments in the near future.
Virginia is on vacation again this week and Hoppy is trying to hire a girl again. I don’t know why he is always hiring girls. What’s more, I don’t know where he thinks he is going to put any more girls.
If Arthur keeps improving at his present rate of speed, in another week or so he will have his name on the door along with Hoppy’s.
I started a Postal Savings Account and, strange coincidence, without any knowledge of my act. Lillian did the same think on the same day. Guess I had better go to bed, low skunk that I am
If you actually don’t have any extra glads, you better not send me any. Three or four maybe.
love, J.
Postcard postmarked Aug. 31
Thurs. Nite-
Dear Folks,
Another 12 hour day is history. Another .50 raise is mine. Another girl is added to the Hoppman harem, one Mrs. Chack.
It’s over a month since I slat heard from the shrimp. Shall I write to him any more?
Certainly is hot tonite. Guess I will V-Mail the Shrimp just for the heck of it. love, J
Postcard postmarked Sept 1
Mon. PM
Dear Folks,
I am having more fun these days blowing bubbles out of the window. Bought a bubble blowing set at Woolworths tht turns out a dozen at a time, all bright colors + they last all the way down to the street from the 9th floor. Padded cell here I come.
The gladiolus are still going strong.
love, J
3:00 PM Sunday, Sept 2
Dear Folks,
Sixteen-page letter coming up. Just returned from the usual Sunday dinner at Child’s. There seemed to be a fire in progress at the El corner, at least the trucks were sitting around, although there didn’t seem to be a hose going anywhere. A guy kept bawling something at the top of his huge voice, but I finally spotted him in the crowd and he was merely selling papers. And in the middle of all this sat a shoe-shiner shining somebody’s shoes. A bystander remarked, “What’s boinin’ homboigeh?”, so I assumed that there was no actual excitement and came home.
Last night I went to the Mason General Hospital, about 35 miles out on Long island. It’s a mental hospital and was it ever a relief the get away from that bunch of entertainers I rode out with and into the comfortable and relaxing atmosphere of the closed ward, where they keep the patients who don’t have to run of the place yet because of their peculiarities. Cases of shell-shock, manic-depression, psychoses, etc.
But back to the entertainers. Mostly they were old and experienced having been overseas, or in the case of Mr. Wolf, having played with Lillian Russell. Mr. Wolf, a pale tender little thing who could have been anywhere from 30 to 60, was more than I can stand. “My deah, You look simply ravishing and those suspendahs! Johnny, wheah evah did you get them?” or “ I found the most exciting little place last night down on East 44th St. It’s a dive, dahling, a Dive. Everything goes on in there.” And they fell to talking about their pet dives, and where to get the best lobster something or other in New York + how much better it was in Baltimore but have you evah tasted the lobster at So +So’s in Cleveland. Astonishingly enough, nobody had. And the exotic dishes they whipped up for their buffet suppers + midnite snacks. There was much said in favor of sour cream with chopped herring and something else. The upshot of it was they stopped at a little roadside stand + bought some cahn and rahsbries.
I don’t know exactly what Mr. Wolfe does, plays the piano I think but I don’t see how anything he might do could aid a patient in a mental hospital, unless perhaps to prove to the poor guy that there are those on the loose much worse off than he. Most of the boys seemed to be perfectly normal anyway.
Then there was a Miss Andre who plays the guitar + sings Spanish, and who has a fungus growth in one ear got from her last overseas trip. Upon returning she says she spent $300 on some mad Lilli Dache hats, but could only wear them once they were so mad. She now uses them in her character parts. She has a colored maid from Father Divine’s, the only place one can get maids these days. Mr. Wolfe is getting one, too. This colored mid is named Blessed Virgin Mary, and answers the phone there – “Peace. Blessed Virgin Mary speakin’, Miss Andre’s residence”. By this time her important friends from South America have hung up.
There was a charming girl about my age, who sings sexy songs to the soldiers and was thrown out of Halloran Hospital because one soldier, even with both legs in a cast, reached out and grabbed her around the middle and when she stepped back he still lhim on and the bed rolled right out in the middle of the room.
There was a magician name of John Van Guilder, form Boston, I think. Is it from Boston that they pronounce dog dohg, with the long o? He was nearly as hard to take as Mr. Wolf.
There was one person there of whom I approve. That one was a police dog named Arra. She was with a man and woman who had an act at some other hospital + was a real nice dohg.
Anyway, it was a lovely ride, in an army ambulance, and a beautiful day, which I enjoyed as best I could. “My deah”, said Mr. Wolf, leaning over and placing a fluffy hand upon my arm. “You haven’t opened your mouth yet. What eveh is the mattah? Or don’t we give you a chahnce?” I mumbled something about being a temperamental artist. Had to keep asking myself what I, hayseed that I am, was doing with this bunch of uppercrust, as they gabbed on about what this or that Big Name in the stage or radio world was saying to them confidentially the other day, or what he learned from the General he took to lunch yesterday. If I never see any of them again I shall be thankful, but this is the question: Is it worth going through all this just to hospital sketch? They’re very well meaning of course, but they certainly make a plain ordinary person very ill at ease.
Back to the hospital. The boys were very enthusiastic. One colored boy provided me with charcoal + a stomp and offered to get me a job with a magazine when he got out. They kept fighting over whose turn it was next and I always ended up doing the things in 5 minutes or less. It was all very exciting, and the best kind of practice and I was working so feverishly that when time was up + I stepped to my feet, the ankles were wobbling so that I had to keep walking to remain upright. Didn’t get much chance to look around, but the guys that wanted to be drawn were mostly not so bad off, with the exception of “Junior” who was embarrassing. The other guys kept apologizing for Junior, saying, “He won’t be with us long, don’t mind him, etc.” Junior was nineteen + looked younger, wore an idiotic grin and went around telling everyone how beautiful he thought they were. When I finished him he let out a sqawk, “Is that me?” Assuming that my name was Jerry, he scrawled on it “to Jerry from your father, with love (in a childish script) and was very proud of it.
So much for Mason General, Monday I go to Camp Kilmer. Wish I hadn’t signed up for the Stage Door Canteen now, but I might as well go, or do ou think I am foolish to bother with it?
Hoppy gave Lillian and me a bawling out yesterday, Friday, I mean, for doing freelance work on the side. This was the first job I had done, and I hadn’t even done that yet when, “cut it out” he said. “Aren’t we paying you well enough?” he said, “don’t we give you enough work?” This is seems to me is too much. Does he won us body + soul and is our spare time also his? But my last paycheck cleared $35 after taxes were out + I can not kick on that score.
Arthur is very happy. Hoppy left him I charge of hiring the new girl, a foolish move. I could have told him (but he didn’t ask me) as Arthur would be inclined to choose a dizzy blonde without too much investigation of the portfolio. But Ruthie was there, and they settled on a cute brunette name of Selma Chack. She certainly seems to be Jewish, but I guess Ruthie knows more about it than I, anyway she is very good so far, one day she has worked. That afternoon Hoppy was absent + left Arthur in charge. Guys kept coming in + he handled ‘em. Us girls kept asking questions + he answered those, + when he answers a questions you really know it’s answered, in fact it usually ends up with him doing the whole rough or giving you a lettering lesson. Too contentious. No time for that stuff around there. Anyway, he is having a good time and now Hoppy and Ruthie can go to Florida this winter + Ginny will not have to handle everything. Moreover, he does not sniffle so much anymore, and now he doesn’t even seem to be deaf. Has some awful rash on something on his hands though, and boils on the back of the neck.
Lillian is very much in disfavor now, nearly as much as I was. I think she will quit soon. Too bad.
Played my ocarina on the street the other day, with Lillian, during the noon hour, to + from lunch. Too bad I have to use both hands on it or I could have taken up quite a collection.
Haven’t heard from the Shrimp yet. Have you?
Now to be off for the S.D. Canteen.
I don’t wanna go very bad, but might as well. S’long.
love, J
Postcard postmarked Sept 7
Dear Folks,
The Glads came, surprisingly well preserved – not one smashed even. I found a big pitcher for ‘em. That was about an hour ago, and already they are opening up. You must have cleaned out the whole garden – I am overwhelmed. They ae certainly lush. Guess you won’t need to send any more this season.
Over the weekend I’ll answer our two latest letters and postcard. love, J
10:25 PM Friday, Sept 7
Dear Folks,
In the shade of the gladiolus I shall attempt to answer some of those letters of yours. These gladioluses are expanding and increasing. Every time I look there are several I didn’t see before. This morning I presented the Twites with a fistful. The whole effect is very charming here, and I have enhanced it with a tasteful arrangement of Emersons about the base. Little Emerson has just returned from the studio, where he has been sitting for the last week or so, and his feelings are hurt because nobody noticed him, or maybe pretended not to.
(AC note: Emersons are funny stuffed dolls made by my grandmother)
Have you all decided on the exact date of your visit yet? I must know this if I get play tickets. Or if it is just for Sat + Sn. maybe we won’t have time to go to a play.
I’m sure I don’ know what to make of this Mr. Wlke. Hadn’t you met him before, or have the years slipped of him since then?
Still I have not heard from the Shrimp. Drat him, that makes six weeks. Maybe he has the wrong address. Anyway, I’m relieved to hear that he is still censoring, what with the war over, etc.?
Peggy is a co-ed! Isn’t she just starting a little late in life, but as the saying goes------
We didn’t work tonight, strange as it seems. Do not worry about the 12 hour days. Actually, only 10 hours of that is work, and not the type of work that wears one out. And then there is a certain mental satisfaction that comes from not wasting an evening + instead of earning a couple of dollars + besides not having to buy one’s supper. (Hm. What ambitious sort of talk is this. Money-mad, that’s me $125 I have in Postal Savings already)
Selma is right good, for a person just starting. Hoppy can never think of her name (or anybody else’s any more) Refers to her as “that girl over there – what’s her name?” In the case of Virginia, Lillian + me he makes a valiant effort and usually gets it on the third try. Poor Arthur. Hoppy keeps introducing him to the customers as Mr Jackmeyer. His name is Meyerjack + I personally don’t see how it makes so much difference but I suppose it sounds rather silly to Arthur who has probably become attached to the later arrangement after all these years. Hoppy is definitely addled. It is good that he has people around to remember what he has said to people + what people have said to hem. The whole business often starts striking me funny and I sit smirking like an idiot far into the afternoon.
Monday nite I went out to Camp Kilmer. Didn’t like the boys out there as well as those at Mason General, but at least the people who went out were human beings. Among other things we discussed Miss Andre and Mr. Wolfe. Camp Kilmer is far out in New Jersey and a huge place. We kept getting lost driving thru it. It is a reassignment camp or something, miles + miles of barracks.
I got a personal letter form Mason General about the fine “show”? I had put on + how the boys enjoyed it, etc. etc. Show yet? Perhaps they must have mixed me up with the other guys. Or maybe they say the same thing to all the girls, ‘show” is the logical all-inclusive term.
You ask what is the Stage door Canteen? It is a place where there is dancing, refreshments, entertainment, and me over in the corner sketching. Open to all branches of the service. Malicious things are often said about it, but my intentions are honorable. The “Stage Door” business is because the entertainment is supposedly professional, or maybe because it was located on Broadway by some stage door once. I’m not sure anyway there is much noise + bright lights.
I now give the flars (sic) a fresh drink + me too + go to bed.
love, J,
6:45 PM Tuesday Sept 18
Dear Folks,
A cold rainy day, just like yesterday and tomorrow probably. Doesn’t stop my fun, though. Those bubbles will stand up in the rain even. Lillian went and bought herself a set, too.
Postcard from Pop today. Hope the cold is better. B. Duck’s whole family was laid up, too. I will get the Greyhound timetable next dry evening, if there ever is one. Who the heck wants to go to Oneonta N.Y. via Kingston N.Y and why? Are you coming down by Greyhound?
I’m always glad to hear that the Shrimp is being heard from. July 28th is my last record of him. I have crossed him off my list and removed his picture from my billfold. Told him so, too. Maybe this could be a result of some beach photos I sent him. Gerda sent her brother some of the same and hasn’t heard from him since, either.
Work is slowish this week. Yesterday was Jewish New Year, + the telephone hardly rang. We went home early. Selma didn’t come in that day - so now we know – Big joke on them _ I wonder what will happen now. Maybe nothing, she seems to fit in alright + I really don’t think they realized this until yesterday, as they had gone right ahead making cracks as usual with Selma right there. She will probably quit when her husband comes out of the coast Guard.
Had a cozy weekend, mostly sitting around + eating, sleeping, + knitting. B. duck, her mother, Aunt Lois, + Mrs. T’s (Towner) boyfriend, Mr. Rowe, formerly a worker at the Elmira Holding Point, now residing a couple of houses down the street from the B. duck’s – all these people were there most of the time. Plus a trunk the size of mine, several suitcases, and the contents-to-be of the trunk – all these and me, too, in the smallish combination living room + kitchen. For a while I thought Mr. Rowe’s first name was Vermin, but they explained later that it was Firmen they were saying. It seemed good to set around in a family circle. I get a little tired of cockroaches nite after nite.
It was raining all the time. When I slogged in Friday nite nobody was home. I waited around a couple of hours, when in slogged B. Duck. She had been meeting every train, including mine + had not recognized me in my soaked and bedraggled state. Saturday morning we drove out to Valley Forge, took our lunch + ate it in the car. Sunday we drove to Fairmont Park, getting lost on the way in a very interesting district – steep narrow winding streets + cockeyed buildings. Got out and went for a walk in the Park. Friday she leaves for Iowa + has bought all sorts of dashing outfits. Iowa is a religious college + she will have to go to church.
There was a parade today on Fifth Ave. Some Chinese Celebration. Very gay and colorful it was supposed to be, but what with the steady downpour I’m afraid it must have been a little on the sad side.
200 Fifth Ave. is a kiddies paradise. Just my speed, in fact. Big tall building, all devoted to toy offices and showrooms of toy companies. Room after room full of everything to delight the young squirt. I was there today with Ruthie, to get information on a bear drum major I painted this afternoon. He is cute.
Tomorrow nite Lillian and I are going to a Spanish Theatre. She has been before: although she doesn’t understand any Spanish, she has several Spanish boyfriends. One of them doesn’t understand English. I can’t imagine how they get along. Lillian is the quiet type, so maybe gets by.
I splurged on a pair of black suede loafers 0 thus (sketch) and have regretted it ever since. They are 8A and get bigger every day. This is the only pair in N.Y that came anywhere near my size + that is the only kind I wanted. Hafta keep putting in innersoles to fill up the gap. They fall off when I try to run.
I am finally convinced that Arthur is unhitched in the head. Six weeks he’s been there, + he brings in his brother who is still in the Army, + tries to introduce him to everybody separately. He introduced Virginia as “Lillian” and couldn’t think of Lillian’s name at all. After six weeks of hearing six people called by their first name sixty times a day, even the feeblest of disinterested morons ought to make a better score than that. He must have actually come unstuck somewhere. Too bad.
Mr. Twite has left me a wool blanket tonight. What he should have done is take away the bed, as I didn’t pay my rent last week. Haven’t seen him.
Well, for a while it seemed as if I would not fill up this last page, but trifles have kept turning up, and here we are, or are we.
This sweater -----(piece of aqua yarn) is going to look like this (sketch) dolman sleeves (I hope).
Tell me more of the Shrimp. Are we sending him a Xmas present?
Autumn is in the air.
Love, J
7:30 PM Sunday Sept, 23
Dear folks,
Another weekend I have dawdled away. Today was rainish. Seems to be clearing up now though. While the sun was shining I blew bubbles and attracted an audience – Mr. Turte and a housepainter, the latter of which displayed a most flattering interest in my hobby, pointing our individual bubbles and being very impressed. Probably a moron.
For want of anything better to do, I boarded a subway this afternoon, and in a short time found myself in Jamaica, LI. Got out, walked around several blocks, + strangely enough, found the subway again + returned. Jamaica is like Athens only bigger. Trees, grass, dogs, people burning leaves, kids playing football.
We now have three excellent orchestra seats for “Life With Father” the nite of Saturday, Oct. 13.
Yesterday morning I shopped at Klein’s + Orbach’s with nothing particular in mind, and ended up with just that. Some mash-house, Klein’s, also Orbach’s. People trying things on all over the place. In the suit department there are raucous voiced females posted at regular intervals saying, “Keep yer Skoits on, ladies! Don’t take off yer skoits, please. Don’t throw the garments on the floor, please”. In the afternoon the place gets to be a writhing sea of shoving and snatching professional shoppers. “Oh, Mamie! C’mere and see this jess (dress)! Where are ya?” and somehow, half a mile away, Mamie hears this above the babble of the rabble and bellows an answer. I try to get out of the place before they reach this state.
In the afternoon I didn’t find Gerda home. Went to a nice little park I found on E. 56th St. overlooking the East River where one can watch the boats. It’s especially nice in the evening. Overrun with kids during the day. Nice neighborhood, well-to-do old ladies + likewise young couples. From there I went to see Gary cooper in ‘Along Came Jones” and knitted two inches of sweater while there. I have perfected a special theatre-knitting method. To keep the needles from clicking against the chair arms, put one up each sleeve. It works.
“Como Todas las Mujers” was the name of the Spanish picture Lillian and I saw. We had planned to eat supper in the Spanish section, but all eating places were such absolute messes that we bought bananas + cookies to eat during the picture. For 50 cents we saw the feature, news, a short “comic” in English, plus a very funny MC, a Spanish Sinatra, and a pair of dancers as stage show. Of course the whole business passed far over our heads but we could see that the MC was being very funny. “Como Todas las Mujeres” was unfortunately all talk + not much action. We never did figure out satisfactorily who was the mother of who and just where the old guy with the mustache came in. It is annoying that the only words they slow down for, therefore the only ones I ever get, are prepositions, adverbs and conjunctions. Try to piece together a pertinent paragraph from a few yeses, a because + an after or a before.
Harlem borders on the Spanish district. Found ourselves walking home thru the corner of Harlem at night, of all times.
Lillian had been telling of the quaint habits of her Spanish friends + now I see what she means. We came across one of these, named Joe. He was complaining to her that his wife had gone and got married last week.
Things have been unbelievably slow at the Hoppman menagerie this week. Virginia has been typing, Selma has been filing, + we have been going home at 5:00. Friday was fun, remarks flying thick and fast, people being silly. This can not last.
Still nothing from the Shrimp. The 3 Emersons send fond regards. I depart now for the Stage Door Canteen.
Love, J
Rogers tells me Kleege is working in N.Y.
Postcard postmarked Oct 2
Thurs PM
Dear Folks,
Got an invitation to spend this Sunday at Hastings on Hudson. Accepted this invitation by return mail. She enclosed a timetable, as you did, so I am very well informed.
Hoppy is sick + things are very wild at the studio. love, J
3:00 PM Sunday, Oct 4,
Dear Folks,
Central Park. This is just about the most beautiful afternoon they have ever had here and at last I found the ideal spot for sketching + loafing in general. It’s the top of one of those rocky mountains at the southern end of the park. Only trouble is the sun leaves it early, so now here I am back down where the sun shines + little brats run around.
Intended to get this letter started a couple of hours ago, but with Aunt H’s new pencils I got to sketching a landscape. It was alright, but it needed a few good darks. So – what should come but two sailors + sit right down in the middle of it where it needed a dark, + hold nice and still. There were eating fried shrimp. Later they came over + got sketched close-up, + another one came along + he got the same treatment. One was a RT3C, only a radio operator. I always wanted to meet somebody to whistle code messages at. Also like his father is in the milk business in Illinois and uses Thatcher bottles. Finally they decided to go the top of the Empire Sate Bldg so at last now for the letter. My pen is busted.
The Fleet is in. There is a babe over there being led around by a big huge Afghan hound and obviously bored with the whole thing.
The last few days have bee Syracusish. Oh yeah, I went to the Young Peoples’s Meeting, Tuesday night. About 12 were there, mostly middle-aged women. Several nice young girls. One young man, who went home right after supper. We played badminton until 10:00 or rather they played badminton. I couldna bit the bird at all. The Reverend certainly swings a mean racket. He is professional, as is his wife! Met one woman who said she had lived on Lexington Ave. “Where on Lexington?” say I. “175 Lexington” says she. She knew Miss Coates + others, said it was a good place to be thrown out of.
Cute thing happened last night in the delicatessen a little girl said to her mother, “Mama, when I grow up can I have shoes like that girl?” (me and the baby-dolls)
I just read this letter over. What a mess! Seems as if there is something important I forgot to say. How about that necktie? Can it wait till the next laundry bag?
Do you have very many of my Hoffman samples around? I’ll probably reed them for instance the Mayonnaise cover. If they’re still intact.
If there is a jagged hole in this envelope you will know I tried to mail those bobby pins.
Love, J
AC Note: Janice worked for Thatcher designing the artwork on Thatcher milk bottles.
Post card postmarked Oct 4
Wed. PM
Dear Folks,
Am I mad! He never showed up and me all ready and waiting. This is the end!
The laundry bag will be along this week or Monday. Don’t rush or wash special. You don’t have to wash the cottons this trip.
And here I didn’t go to class and gave up a chance to work overtime. That’s what I get for gloating. -J
Post card Oct ?
Dear Folks,
Just returned from a nice long weekend at B. Duck’s.
I’ll try to get tickets to “Life with Father”. There doesn’t seem to be a “crusader in Crinoline” playing anywhere.
If you send any more glads, better make it fewer. No mer than a dozen. You timed the arrival just right last time. Got here about 6PM. Don’t send the office any, I can bring ‘em there. love, J
Used up the bubble set + got another in Bryn Mawr. Went to Valley Forge.
Postmarked Oct 15
Wed. nite
Dear folks,
Flash! Found, in Middle dresser drawer two (2) large bobby pins. Also one (1) green neck tie on top of dresser. Shall I trust b. pins to a letter, or shall I make it a registered package?
Glad to hear the Tieman visit turned out well. The whole weekend couldn’t possibly have been any better - perfect it seems to me.
Saw Kleege tonite. Will write about this later.
Went to the Young People’s Meeting yesterday. More of this later, too. love, J
Postcard postmarked Oct 27
Dear folks
Isn’t this the wild onion that grows on the hill?
Your nice long letter I will answer someday. Things aren’t happening here.
Tomorrow’s the big day. Navy Day. Truman parades, etc. etc. Regina + I are attending.
Tonite was the last nite of school now I really hafta get busy on samples.
love, J
9:40 PM Monday, Oct. 29
Dear Folks,
Halloween is upon us + the kids seem to have good weather for it. The streets will not be safe tomorrow nite.
I am eating huge round black grapes. Very good – look like plums practically.
The Shrimp is now heard from regularly, and is already answering the letter we wrote when down. Today I got a set of views of Hawaii form him. Did he draw you a picture of how the tooth broke? (sketch)
Migosh, you certainly lead an active life. Get around more than I do, + knocked out yet!
Did Ethel come right out and say, “I don’t like that scarf”?
I’m not going to school anymore, although I was up there this nite getting my locker refund + looking things over. Turned out a masterpiece last week, in fact, even Bouche liked it. School certainly takes up one’s time, not that I’d spend it constructively. Usually end up strolling on 57th St. and gawking in the windows. There is a slick black evening dress in one which is just what I want –
(sketch of long black dress one shoulder dress with a big bow on the shoulder and the opposite hip) terrific, no? And shoe stores full of these. (sketch of chunky platform shoes) Not to mention Art Galleries. One night whom should I see strolling along, entering a bar in fact, but the tall well-draped gent who played in “Pillow to Post”, a movie I saw recently. I can’t remember his name. That’s the first time I have recognized a celebrity on the street. Probably have passes up several in my ignorance.
Oh Yes! Navy Day. I went with Regina, and as she doesn’t care for the Navy we didn’t see much. Luckily, however, she is a Democrat and we had an excellent view of Truman as he passed up 5th Ave. He looked right at me! (or so it seemed) I managed to drag her over to the river + got a look at the Aulick (H.C.’s boat) + others. The Douglas H. Fox is farther down. Some morning I will get up at the crack of dawn and do that. Maybe I can get a seat on top of one of the Riverside Drive busses that go past the whole thing. Sunday I tried for one going up, but of course they were loaded. So I get the bright idea of going down to Washington Square from whence they start + beating the mob.. I do this only to find that about 5,000 other New Yorkers are just as dumb . Upshot of it was that I visited the Chrysanthemum gardens in Central Park. Is that a spectacle now! Talk about your Central park dog walkers – yesterday there was a woman calmly walking her pet antelope in a green blanket. The week before there was a guy with a small white dog + a briefcase full of smaller white puppies.
Last night was the final one for the Canteen. There was an extra special floor show + more celebrated celebrities than usual. We actually had to stand in line to get into the place. Started sketching down in the lobby - a radio operator. (I like those. They are always amazed to get code messages and reply about 60 words per minute. Insignia same as the Shrimps. There was one yesterday who claimed to have had a ham station in Chicago before the war, but I think he was a fake. He knew no more about it than I do, if as much.) Anyway, back to Radio Operator No. 1 – he got lost in the crowd + I never finished. Upstairs it was terrific. Photographers all over the place, everybody standing on chairs + tables. Business was good in the sketching corner, in fact I had the whole thing to myself. From 9:00 PM to 1 AM I was there. Out of the clear sky one sailor named Kenneth hands me a luscious gardenia. Keep it he says, so I do. Must be the girl he brought it for was absent. Lucky me – it is still in pretty good shape + smells right pretty. I shall miss the Canteen.
Phooey on the blue dishes. I did not realize the plates were $2,50 apiece.
Hoppman studio has been boggy lately. Blah is the word. Happy seems to be in a rotten humor + keeps yelling at Ruthie, “Don’t get excited” he shrieks, flying up in the air.
I’ll make Gail’s doll a house if you say so.
Now to knock the Shrimp off a quick one maybe and hit the hay.
Love, J
AC Notes. Janice’s dad, Herbert, was what is known as a DXer. He had a short wave radio at home and listened to stations all over the word. To pursue this hobby, he had a tall antenna in the back of the house. He would send cards to the stations he picked up, to acknowledge what he had heard and they would send back a confirmation letter. As a result, Janice knew Morse code and could whistle out (dah dit) messages. Her brother Harry (the Shrimp) was a Navy radio operator in the Pacific.
Herbert also collected stamps and saved the ones on the many foreign confirmation letters he received.
The Aulick was Uncle Harry’s ship (H.C.)
Postcard postmarked Nov 4
Dear Folks,
Over the weekend I finished Gail’s paper doll but now I can’t stick the house together. When + if I do I’ll send it along.
The new artist is named Abner. What a character!
Can’t seem to find any more black loafers so will have to keep these, too bad, Moon.
Do you think the Shrimp will be home for Xmas now that he’s had a leave in San Diego? S’long.
love, J
10:00 PM Monday Nov, 5
Dear Folks,
Just returned from an evening of single stroke lettering in the finished posters from the Negro roughs you saw when there. That kind of thing takes practice.
Card from B. Duck and letter from Shrimp today. She got your note. A bit of foolishness, as she got my address right all along.
As I said before, yesterday I went out to Tiemanns (in Hastings, NY - ac) I see what you mean. They certainly have an ideal set-up there in every respect (except for taxi drivers) (did you curse, too?) Everything was very much fun, especially the before dinner hike. Here I am in stockings and heels, against which I should have been warned beforehand, galloping over the brambly hills, up rocks, + down swamps, to the bear cave and back. That was okay though, as I am trying to wear out those baggy rayons anyway. The scenery was terrific, as you noticed no doubt. I like those elms (sketch), skyscraper variety, and the winding streets. And with a view like that from the kitchen window even I might be inspired to wash dishes.
Found myself comparing those kids to the Orenstein young which were about the same sequence, a little younger, what a difference! I wonder are they always that well behaved, no arguments, no squabbles. Jerry makes me feel like an ignoramus.
Saturday afternoon I also spent in the woods sort of, with that foolish painting class of Prof. Fisher’s. As usual, it rained, and I was doing a water color. That was that.
After getting home Sunday nite. I made me a black gathered wool skirt with a wide waistband, these things cost $11.00 in the stores. It is very cute, I think. $4.00 worth of Macy’s yard goods did this one. Also, I have a black combination pocketbook and muff (sketch) which will come in handy next time I sleep on the train, as a pillow. That bumpy suede bag was always inadequate. More over, I have splurged on a ring (sketch) pointed oval, brilliant turquoise blue, it is the wing of a tropical butterfly under glass. I’d been admiring these in a window and dropping hints to my wealthy boyfriend, but to no avail, soo-o.
Will you do me a slight flavor (sic)? Look in the On (Syracuse yearbook, the Onondaga -ac), under Junior class, + see it there is a cute blonde, looking a little like Dorothy Robbins, in Fine Arts, name of Isabelle Boyd or anything Boyd. This girl has finally caught me up. I saw her on the street before, but not knowing her name and at the moment not even recalling that she was in fine Arts, I sped on. So Saturday nite as I was eating in Prexy’s, she comes up, greets me by name + we have a nice long chat (so absorbing it was in fact, that I forgot to leave a tip + instead walked off + left my drawing board. She is very well situated in a nice agency and invited me to drop up (with samples) and if this is to go on I must find out who she is. The only clue is a magazine she was carrying with Isabelle Boyd written thereon. I am positive she was a year behind me, and was in several of my classes, but the name just never registered.
Nor did I register, so I can’t vote tomorrow. “Vote for O’Dwyer” blares the radio. You know how to spell O’Dwyer asked Jerry yesterday. “No, how?” say I. “C-R-O-O-K” he replies. After the election New York will heave a sigh of relief, if only because of no more “paid political announcements” via stations WLIB, WMCA, etc., etc.
The laundry bag will be limping in this week. I will include skirt hangers and necktie, + in the hole left by them + the cotton skirts + dress which I won’t need sent back, could I have the blue + brown plaid pleated skirt, the bought light blue sweater, and the cable sleeveless brown sweater. If you can use that aqua shrunk-up seater I made for anything, even Russian relief, it is yours. My last creation is exactly that color (sketch) (no armholes) These are sox that match the shrunk-up job which I do not want either. If there are any corners left you might fill ‘em up with what is left of that lavender yarn, wherever it is (periwinkle blue, I mean, with wrappers on) this is not urgent, if you can’t find it. All this sounds a bit confusing, even to me yet.
Do you still want these black suede loafers? If I could find a pair that fit me better, which I probably can’t – but now with rationing off you can probably do better in Sayre. I’d better keep these.
Am I sleepy! Good nite.
Love, J
Postcard postmarked Dec 4
Mon. PM Dec 3
Dear Folks,
Just gave notice to E.A. Hoppman, a thing I have been working up to for some weeks. A ghastly experience. They were stunned. He offered all kinds of alternatives, but I shall stand firm. That took Courage. I thot he would burst into tears. Maybe he did after I left. Will answer your letter soon.
love, J
Postcard postmarked Dec. 14
Dear Folks,
Have acquired Shrimp – he declines to be quoted at this time ……He will come home with me Monday, he says. How ever, if the City is too much for him, mebbe Sunday, but we think not. Well, ta-ta. love, J
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