Both Dave and Francis are out of work, so they are both looking for jobs without much luck. Dave and Ruth also start making plans for their next visit.
July 29, 1936
Adams Center, N.Y.
My Very Own Husband,
There isn’t much to relate that has happened since you left this morning. However, if I don’t write tonight you won’t get a letter until Saturday and I’m afraid you will be blue enough without going without mail.
I haven’t located my pen yet so no doubt my writing will be even worse than usual.
Hermann and Clifford got back here about dinner time and from then until they left about 1:45 Hermann kept at Eva to get started. Of course, he went over the usual line about how good looking and brilliant he is. His noise is so nerve racking, I don’t see how Eva stands it. He talks mean to her all the time. I don’t know how much of it he means but I do know I wouldn’t feel very good if you talked to me like that. Something tells me that I never need to worry about that.
When I heard Hermann rave on so continuously, I couldn’t help but think how lucky I am to have someone as sweet and nice as you. Maybe you aren’t a very big talker, but you suit me okay.
Joyce went home with Eva to take care of the baby while she does her canning.
Gee, how I miss my boy tonight. The last four days have spoiled me for wanting to stay here without you. It certainly will be grand when the time comes when I know I can be with you all of the time. Now that I have the spread finished, I don’t know what I will do to pass the long hours away until I see you again. It helps a lot if I know I am working on something for our own little “love nest”.
I hope you have all kinds of luck getting work and I know you will. Don’t be discouraged if you don’t get anything right off. I know how hard it is for you when you are so anxious to be earning money. I wish I were with you to share your troubles or at least so you could tell them to me. I know just how much comfort it is to be able to tell your troubles to someone who understands. Write and tell me about everything. Be sure and keep your chin up, my darling, and everything is going to be o.k.
The next time when you go back, I think I’ll send most of our things back by you. I thought I would keep them here a while yet until everyone has seen them.
We had another shower tonight like the one we had last night.
Everyone has gone to bed and being up alone makes me feel awfully lonesome for my Honey so I think I had better go to bed, too.
Don’t forget that I love you, Dearest David, and I’m sure we are going to make out fine.
Yours forever with oodles of love and kisses to the sweetest husband on earth,
Ruth
July 30, 1936
Middleburg, N.Y.
My Darling Wife,
Well here it is 9 P.M. and I suppose my honey has been in bed and I hope asleep for some time. I should be in bed myself but it was seven o’clock before I got in to supper tonight and then I gathered up all the old papers and caught up with the funny sheets and baseball scores. My mind runs to big things, doesn’t it?
I haven’t a thing to report in the way of getting work. It looks pretty dead around here just now. Fran has also lost his job but he has two or three days work in P.H. to do before he is entirely out.
I have been quite busy today. In between looking for work I have been finishing up the woodshed and helping with the hay. I can’t see where I accomplished much yet I have two blisters on my hand. Must have gotten rather soft on my vacation. Yes, honey, I’ll take care of them. I’ve heard you say before that blisters were bad things.
I went down to P.H. yesterday shortly after I arrived home and stayed for the evening. Lydia said she had just written a letter so you probably have all the news from there.
Your letter was waiting for me here, darling, and what you said in it about coming down here got me to thinking. If you and Mother are coming down for two weeks, it will have to be before the last of August won’t it on account of school. Anyway it is time to start planning on when you are coming cause I’m already looking forward to seeing you again.
I had a wonderful time when I was up there, dear, and enjoyed every minute. The hours we spend together seem to be all I live for now.
Everyone seems to think the car looks pretty good, hon. There was only one wise crack made and you can probably guess who that was from. Fran wanted to know why we didn’t paint it orange.
My eyes seem to be a little blurry tonight and I am having a hard time keep these lines from running together so I think I’ll quit. Probably did too much reading tonight.
Goodnight, my precious.
Oceans of love and kisses
From
Your husband
P.S. I’ll try this one letter without Mother’s name on it but no more until I hear that you received it O.K.
July 30, 1936
Adams Center, N.Y.
Hello Honey Boy,
Received your card and thanks a lot for remembering it. Seems like you made pretty good time. You must have driven right along. I was glad you had a good trip.
Ethel and Kent were here all the afternoon and for supper. Kent is laid off again. June went home with them to stay a few days.
I had a letter from Florence today. I certainly was some surprised to hear from her again. I suppose I should write to some of the girls.
We managed to get the washing done today and am I glad. Now I will be busy the rest of the week ironing and cleaning the house.
Gee, I sure slept good last night. I must have fallen asleep as soon as I got in bed and slept until 7:00 this morning. Nope, not even a big, bad mouse came and got me, but I saw a huge rat down cellar today. He even had a long tail.
I told Mom either the rats or I would have to stop living here.
We had a letter from Lydia today. Looks like you and Fran could go seeking work together.
What did people think of my husband’s paint job? He is an awfully smart boy, don’t you think? Does the car run better since it was painted?
Florence said she and Ben, Jack and Sadie were going camping Saturday afternoon and then they will be there for the picnic Sunday. Lydia didn’t say anything about going, but I suppose they will go. Why don’t you go along?
Florence says she hopes we can get in on some of the picnics this summer.
We had a letter from June and Lynn yesterday. They are living in an apartment in Poughkeepsie.1 I guess they are coming up this way some time before long after the girls.
Friday morning
I thought I could think of more to write this morning, but I can’t think of anything to say so I think I’ll sign off and get to work. Be a good boy and take care of my Honey.
Lots of love,
Ruth
July 31, 1936
Middleburg, N.Y.
Hello Hon,
Nothing new to report but I thought I had better write a few lines so you won’t have to wait from Saturday to Tuesday for a letter.
Your letter came today just as I was starting for the lake with berries. I took it with me and read it up there and it is still in the car, so I hope there are no questions in it I was supposed to answer. If there were, I have forgotten them. All I can remember are the sweet things you said. Honestly, dear I don’t know what I have done to make you think so much of me, but I know you do. Sometimes I almost wish you didn’t think so much of me because I know in my own mind I’m not as good as you think I am and I’m so afraid of letting you down. I know if I did the least little thing to displease you, it would hurt me terribly.
I have been pretty lucky in getting work so far but right now it doesn’t look as if I would ever work again. I haven’t even a prospect. I guess I might better have stayed up there and helped Harold with the haying.
Tonight I took berries to Norton Hill and saw Ward a few minutes. He is still going good. He and Lena both wanted to know how you were.
Mom isn’t feeling very good tonight. Her stomach and head both ache she says. It is the first I have heard her complain in a long time. I told her if she didn’t feel all right in the morning, to stay in bed and I would get breakfast.
I haven’t seen the kitten yet. In fact I can’t swear that it is alive. They found it in the haymow when they started putting in hay and moved it to the horse stable. Brownie must have taken it from there and we don’t know if she put it back in the mow and it was covered up or if she has found a new hiding place for it.
Guess I’ll say goodnight now to my darling wife and go me to sleep.
I love you, dear, always and forever.
Yours,
Dave
August 1, 1936
Middleburg, N.Y.
My Very Own Wife,
It is only 8:15 and I don’t feel very sleepy so I’ll start this letter to my honey. If I leave it until tomorrow night, something might happen and you wouldn’t get your usual Tuesday letter.
I have just read your letter I received Friday for the steenth time and am still wondering how I ever managed to not only fall in love with but actually marry such a sweet girl. Honest, hon, it seems like a dream when you are not right in my arms. Maybe you had better let me keep our certificate so I can look at it once in a while and reassure myself.
It has been one of those honest to goodness hot days here today and I have been busy every minute. Besides finishing up the woodshed and getting it half painted I have prepared three meals and washed and wiped all the dishes. Mom was really quite sick this morning. She stayed in bed until late this afternoon then got up and had some toast and hot milk. She says she feels better tonight and I think she does because when I went in her room just now she was asleep. Last night she didn’t sleep a bit. It must be something she ate that upset her stomach. She wouldn’t hear of having a Dr. but if she isn’t just about all right tomorrow, I’ll see that she has one anyway.
My blisters got all soaked up in the dishwater today and have just about disappeared. Maybe that is a good cure for them. Better forget what I just said though, honey. There is a possibility you might think of that some future date when I have more blisters.
I found the kitten today and it is still quite tiny. I guess I expected it to be a full grown cat. Brownie had it hidden in a half-bushel basket under a pile of shingles. I don’t know how she ever got in there. I happened to hear her purr and it took me about five minutes to locate her after I heard her.
It must be rather lonesome up there now with June and Joyce both gone, isn’t it? What does Billy do with himself?
I’ll bet you were surprised to hear from Florence. Yep, I guess you should write to some of your girlfriends and let them know you are still surviving.
Zelma and her mother were down to Lydia’s one day last week. She wanted to know how you were.
I can’t see any difference in the way the car runs, but it sure looks better. I even heard a man on the street remark that it was a good paint job. Smart wife I have. I would never have gotten around to it if you hadn’t helped.
The radio was quite good tonight but I couldn’t sit down there and enjoy it. Every time they played a nice piece I found myself wishing you could hear it with me so I shut the darn thing off and came up to start this letter. For a start I think I have done pretty good, so I think I’ll quit while it is free from a lot of woes.
Goodnight, dearest.
I love you.
Sunday 9:30 P.M.
Well, dearest, another Sunday has gone by and tomorrow starts another long week. When I look at it on the calendar, I wonder if it will ever go by.
Mom felt a lot better today. Except for being a little weak, she was alright. She and I were alone here until about 1:30. I had become so lonesome by that time I decided to take her down to Lula’s and then ride out to where the gang were having their picnic. At first I felt rather out of place and uneasy but after a while I sort of forgot my lonesomeness by watching a ball game. I don’t mean by that that a ball game could make me forget you but it helped me to get a little enjoyment.
As far as I could see everything went all right at the picnic except that Ben hadn’t had his rest the night before and he was a little off key. The next one is on the 23rd, my honey’s birthday, and everyone is sort of planning on you being there. They even had me draw a slip for you and you are supposed to bring a cake. I hope you are here because I can’t bake a cake.
I sat next to Florence at supper and she took very good care of me but she told me to be sure and tell you to answer her letter or she wouldn’t do it again.
I guess Fran and I will take a little tour around the country tomorrow night and see if we can find anything. I suppose it will be the same old story though. Everything is W.P.A.
Well, dearest, I’ll sign off now and go to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow and carry wash water from the creek.
Love and kisses to my darling wife,
Dave
August 2, 1936
Sunday 4:45 p.m.
Adams Center, N.Y.
My Very Own Husband,
I have just written to Grace and Lydia so before I run out of ambition entirely I had better start a letter to my Honey. I have done pretty well for myself this afternoon.
So you are already planning on seeing me again. I wish I could tell you exactly when we will be coming down but that is impossible as yet. You see we have to wait until Bill sends the monthly allowance and that we expect will be about a week after the first of the month because he won’t be in port when he gets paid. However, we think maybe we can be there sometime during the second week depending on when the money comes. There is a chance that it may come sooner than we expect. Rest assured that I will use my influence to get there as soon as possible.
“What do you think about drawing the $27 out of the bank for a studio couch?” – Ruth Coffin, Aug 2, 1936
What do you think about drawing the $27 out of the bank for a studio couch? If we come down, you and I will have to have some place to sleep and in as much as we have to have it anyway, why not now. If I send you a money order for that amount, could you and Lydia go to Albany and pick it out? It will take some time before they can send it down. Let me know as soon as possible what you think.2
Mom wasn’t very keen on coming down at first. I told her to use her own judgment as she knows better how she feels than I do. I don’t think she thinks she looks good enough to meet a lot of people. Everyone knows she has been sick anyway.
We have to have a grease job done on the car before we make the trip, and I think there are a few other little things that need to be fixed. The tire you patched went flat again so it looks like we need a new tube.
Gee, I wish when you were up here I had had you mark the route you take to come up on a road map. I should have paid more attention when I came over the road but I don’t believe I know a thing about it. Do you suppose you could tell me in a letter so I would know more about it?
Be sure and let me know how the work proposition looks. Kent is out of work and has to go job hunting tomorrow. He feels pretty blue as they still owe a lot more on the car. They brought June back and were here for dinner.
Have you heard any more from the checks you were dubious about? Here’s hoping you don’t.
The letter arrived o.k. without Mom’s name so I guess it will be safe enough to send them that way.
I have been wondering what you were doing with yourself today. I hope it hasn’t seemed so long to you as it has to me. I am in hopes we can spend next Sunday together.
We have come to the conclusion that the skin irritation Mom has isn’t iodine poisoning. She itches as much as ever and I think I am getting it now. Although I haven’t any rash, I seem to be doing a lot of itching. Guess I’ll see the Dr. about it as soon as I can.
Mom says she won’t promise to stay down there two weeks as she has promised to have Grace’s kids up for a week before school starts.
Linnie was down for a while yesterday afternoon.3 You should have been here to see her. She says she intends to get us something for a present.
June said in her letter that they have something for us, too. Not bad?
8:20 p.m.
We just got back from Harold’s. We went down to see what was detaining Billy when he went after the milk. We persuaded Ivan to loan us his old mother cat and kitten for a few days. The rats and mice are so thick you can’t even go outdoors without seeing a rat. They sure have me scared skinny.
I bet you can’t remember where we were a year ago tonight. I don’t believe I can ever forget that day and probably you can’t. If I remember correctly I was at Crocker’s and spent most of the afternoon with my nose against the window. Even though we can’t have everything we would like, thank heavens we don’t have to endure any more nightmares like that.4
I am looking forward to seeing you, dear. Gee, when I’m with you the time seems to go awfully fast. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself when you were here. I know it was wonderful to have you here with me. I was afraid you didn’t have a very good time as June and Billy acted so.
Mom and the kids are going to bed so I guess I will.
Good night, my precious boy.
Yours forever and ever,
Ruth
Monday morning
I thought I might think of something more to write this morning, but the only thing of importance is that I love you.
I woke up at 5:30 and smelled smoke. I looked all over the house and didn’t find anything. Harold seems to think it must come from a forest fire. It smells awful.
It is 8:30 so I had better quit and eat breakfast.
Love,
“Me”
Footnotes
- A photo of June and Lynn in Poughkeepsie was posted here (June 10, 1936).
- The couch in the photo is probably the same one that Dave and Lydia ended up picking out as per Ruth’s instructions. The couch had a metal frame and a trundle bed underneath hidden by the upholstery skirt. They had it on the Willows farm, where they lived, and later in their home across the street from the farm. The young fellow on the couch is Tom Dougherty, the husband of Dave and Ruth’s granddaughter, Lisa Walsh Dougherty. For more notes and a photo from the Willows, visit this post here.
- We are not sure who “Linnie” was. It’s possible she may have been one of Grace’s daughters, nicknamed “Linnie” – she had four kids by 1936: Carlton (b. 1921), Alfred (b. 1924), Lydia (b. 1926) and Eleanor (b. 1930).
- Mrs. Crocker was one of Ruth’s patients who seemed to have suffered from advanced dementia. The letters where she described this experience are posted here.