Now that her hospital stint is finished, Ruth is having trouble finding work and contemplates going home. Dave discourages her because it’s too far away for him to travel and is worried that he can’t see her as often. Kent Spencer, her mother Jennie, and little Billy Sedgemore stop in for a brief visit. She spends a lot of time with Loretta Sosville and also considers moving again to take a temporary job as a house keeper/babysitter.
July 15, 1935
349-A Madison Avenue
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
What a life! Gee, I wish I had something to do. I would even be willing to sew on buttons but it so happens I haven’t any off. I have even washed my shoe strings and put them in the way you had them.
I had them put me on register this morning, but I guess it won’t do any good. Loretta says she has been on a week already. She at least has something to do besides sitting around. She is going to make Ed stop and show me Dicky tonight.1 She says I am heartless because I didn’t stay and take care of your finger.
Gee, it sure is painful to write with this darned pen. I must have left my other one down to Sprague’s.
Did you manage to get home without falling asleep? You must have been awful sleepy to go to sleep in the position you were in. I wish you could have seen yourself when you woke up, it sure was funny. I told Sosville what time I got in and she wanted to know if I felt alright.
I wrote to Florence and Eva this afternoon and called Zelma. Zelma said she might be over tonight. She goes on her vacation Thursday to be gone for two weeks.
I am going up to Sosville’s tomorrow afternoon. She says she has a business proposition to talk over with me. I can’t imagine what it can be. Probably another crazy idea such as we are in the habit of hatching up.
How is your finger? Remember, I expect a report on its condition in all your letters and don’t be holding out on me or else. The radio works good but I get tired of listening to it now and then.
It looks like the folks aren’t going to come and see me. I have expected them all afternoon, but it is 3:30 now so I don’t believe I will see them.
I hope Lydia noticed what time you went home last night. If she did, I bet she wouldn’t believe it was you.
I commence to crave calories again so I’ll get myself ready and go out for dinner. Maybe I’ll write more when I come back.
6:40 p.m.
Just as I might have expected, I had no sooner left the house than the folks came. They waited for me, but I didn’t see them long. When they left, I was taken with rather a low-down feeling and I haven’t any shoulder to sob on.
Loretta and Ed just stopped to show me the big boy. He is cute, but sort of spoiled, me thinks.
My mother wasn’t feeling so good tonight. I made her promise to go to the doctors just as soon as she can. Maybe it would be better for all concerned if I did go home for a couple of months. I’ll stay in the city for about two weeks, and if I don’t get anything to do, I’ll have someone come and get me.
I guess I had better sign off before I spread anymore gloom. Maybe my next letter won’t be so full of troubles. Write soon unless your finger hurts too much because I’ll spend most of my time waiting for the mail to come.
Ruth
P.S. If I go out now and mail this, you will get it in the morning, otherwise, you won’t get it until Wednesday.
Monday evening
8:00 P.M.
Middleburg, N.Y.
My dear girl,
Here I is doing my duty right on time. I did think some of waiting until Thursday night before I wrote, but then my soft heart got the best of me and I gave in.
I had my coffee after I left you last night, also two jelly donuts and two glasses of ice water. The coffee wasn’t as strong as before but it did well enough. I didn’t get very sleepy until I got way to P.H. I drove just about as fast as the old tub would run and that kept me awake trying to keep between the guard rails. I don’t know what time it was when I got here but I know it didn’t take me very long. You should have seen the reservoir by moonlight. It was a very pretty sight. All it lacked was a canoe and you to make it perfect.
Everything went O.K. on the job today, only it seemed awfully quiet with so many men gone. One of the fellows said he felt like taking a hammer in both hands so he could make more noise. Our clock must have been way fast this morning because I had a half hour to wait when I got there this morning. That paper you put in the car came in handy. I had a chance to read it this morning.
Did Kent bring your Mother up to see you? I’ll bet he knows you well enough that he wouldn’t dare go back without doing so.
Boy is this a swell pen. I feel like throwing it away every time I use it. One minute you can’t get any ink out of it and the next it is running all over. Between the pen and the sore finger this is some swell writing. My finger isn’t quite so sore tonight so maybe I won’t lose an arm after all.
Have you seen Loretta and gotten all the town gossip yet? Don’t forget to tell her how you went fishing, drove a car in second gear, and broke Lydia’s chair. She’ll appreciate all of that.
It was swell having you down here so near for a while, Ruth. Probably this week will seem awfully long but it can’t be helped. I hope you have good luck in finding work but don’t be too disappointed if you don’t get anything in a day or two. Keep smiling and things will look better.
Nine P.M. now and past my bedtime. Guess we are going to have a storm by the sound. The lights just went out for a few minutes and they are flickering now so I’ll say goodnight before they decide to go out for a longer spell.
“Me”
July 17, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruth,
Received your letter yesterday. Thanks for the special effort you made to mail it. Too bad you were only able to see your Mother a few minutes but even that was better than not at all. I wish I could have been there after she left. I know it isn’t very pleasant to be all alone and feeling blue.
So Loretta has a business proposition to talk over with you. I hope it is something worthwhile and not just some foolishness. If she thinks you were so heartless in not taking care of my finger, tell her she can come down and go on twenty-four hour duty. It’s a good job but darn poor pay. However, I guess the need for a nurse is past and by the time you see me Sunday you won’t even know it was ever sore. Either that “red ink” did something or the thing was ready to get well itself anyway. Probably the latter.
It sure has been hot again today. I thought I would melt once this afternoon. I’ll bet it wasn’t very pleasant in the city either. The Lieut. received his orders concerning his next job today. He didn’t get the one in Wallkill he expected. The one he got is a three camp job in Pine Island about twenty miles below Port Jervis. I’m not thinking very seriously of going. It seems as though there ought to work enough around here.
11:00 P.M.
Now don’t say I never stayed up late to write you a letter. I had to quit earlier in the evening and take Mother down to Ward’s and we just got back.
Gee, I hope you get something to do before that two weeks is up. Of course I realize you can’t stay in the city forever with nothing to do. I sure hate the thought of not being able to see you, Ruth. How did you mean that statement that it might be better for all concerned if you did go home? Did that include me, too? I can’t just think how it would benefit me any. I don’t know what I will do with myself on Sundays if you do go. Just take it on the chin and learn to like it I guess.
I asked Lydia tonight if she had seen your pin and she said no, but she would look for it.
Bud has the mumps or sompin. One side of her neck is all swollen but it isn’t sore and the swelling is more in front than is usual with mumps so they are not sure. I guess she will go to the Dr. tomorrow if it isn’t better by then.
Guess I have spilled all the news so I’ll close and get my required sleep. Sometimes I even get tired of that. It is just work, eat and sleep, a regular merry-go-round.
I’ll be seeing you Sunday.
Dave
July 17, 1935
349-A Madison Avenue
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
Now for another cussing spell over this confounded pen. Your letter was outside my door this morning when I got up, so now if you know what time the mail comes, you will know what time I arose. Don’t bother your little head trying to figure it out, I’ll save you the trouble. I usually manage to be up by the early hour of 11:30. I can’t sleep much after that.
I decided that if I answered your letter this afternoon, you would receive it so you can keep your promise about writing Thursday night and I’ll get it Saturday. Doncha think that’s kinda cute?
Lemme see, there just isn’t much to write about, of course. You know without me telling you that I haven’t any job. I’ll tell you the happenings of my very uneventful week.
The story thus far:
Love me Forever film poster, 1935
Monday evening
Zelma came about 8:00 Monday night just after I had returned from mailing your letter. She had been here about an hour and a half when Ed came to get me to accompany Loretta to a show while he took Dicky back to the hotel and put him to bed. Zelma went to the show with me. The show was “Love Me Forever” and of course we had to listen to Grace Moore do her stuff. It was even worse than “One Night of Love”. We didn’t pay much attention to the picture anyway as we had a lot to talk about. We told each other everything we could think of that had happened since our last meeting. I bet Zelma could have killed us with a clear conscience. After the show it was raining so we couldn’t walk home. Zelma went back to Delmar on the bus. We were afraid we would get wet so we waited for one of the ushers to take us home. His name is Arthur and Loretta knew him so it was o.k. The usher didn’t have any car so he had to get his friend (the guy who takes the tickets) to take us in his car. You no doubt remember him. He is a tall kid, wears glasses and takes tickets and tears them in two down at the Palace. His first name is Arthur, too. I don’t know what his last name is. He plans to join the police force so he must be an Irishman. That’s about all I know about him. We had to wait for them to shut off the lights, etc. and after a short ride around the city we arrived home at 1:00.
Tuesday
I went up to Sosville’s in the afternoon and stayed for supper. They have one patient up there that calls Loretta everything but a nice girl. After supper we went over to Loretta’s sister’s, from there we walked to West Albany to see the Italian fireworks. Such a walk, now I know what you mean by “West Albany”. When we got there all we saw was Italians and no fireworks. We hung around until 10:30 and still we didn’t see anything so we started home. We just got over the bridge and they started. Every time we heard a bang, we turned around just in time to see the smoke. On our way back we stopped at a grill and had some hamburgers and beer (birch). Before we got back to the bus, we were so darned tired we could hardly walk. We had a lot of fun and acted like a bunch of saps.
There just isn’t anything for nurses to do so I have decided to hang around for two weeks and if nothing comes up, I am going home. When I go home Loretta is going to Oneonta to visit her aunt for the summer. We are going to come back again in October and try our luck. There should be something to do by then.
I sort of expect Florence and Ben over tonight. Maybe if they haven’t any other plans, we will plan to do something next Sunday unless you are busy doing something else. I’ll let you know if I can what we decide, otherwise you can come up Sunday when it is most convenient for you. I don’t think there is a chance I will be working and there isn’t any sense of me staying in all day Sunday waiting for a call I won’t get. By Sunday after doing nothing all the week, I will be ready to do something drastic.
Loretta is just full of suggestions for us. First of all, she suggested we go to the circus with her and Ed next Monday. Next she suggested we have a picnic some afternoon or night when Ed is in town. I reminded her that you had to work on weekdays. I didn’t tell her it was about all you could do to take part of Sunday off. She finally suggested that we go down around your country some Friday night for a picnic and I told her that might be managed.
Yeah, I told her about the things you mentioned and she got a big kick out of it. Only I told her you broke the chair ‘cause after all, I wasn’t even sitting in the darned thing. I told as good a fish story as you could have told, and I forgot to mention the fact that I drove the car in second.
The next time you come up, I won’t send you home at such an early hour ‘cause you get to work too early the next morning.
How much longer is your job going to last? Have you decided whether or not you are going to take the other job yet?
I hope your finger continues to improve, and I expect to hear how it is coming Saturday, and don’t forget to mail the letter either.
It is now 5:00 p.m. and all I have done today is make my bed and write to you and Lydia. How is that for a day’s work? I haven’t even listened to the radio. It is almost time I went out to eat again.
Dicky is jealous as the deuce of Loretta and wouldn’t even condescend to ride on the front seat with her. They ate dinner at the TenEyke and he said it was an awful dump.2 The spinach was soggy. He has no use for girls. She doesn’t know if she wants to be a stepmother or not.
Write soon or sooner.
“Me”
P.S. The scratchy pen had nearly made me use profane language. Once I nearly said “Shell” with the “S” off.
The Ten Eyke Hotel, detail from stationary. Albany, NY
July 18, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruth,
Well you asked for it so here it is and believe you me if you hadn’t asked for it, I don’t think this letter would have been written. No, I don’t see anything cute about the stunt you pulled, and you were so careful to explain the fact that I would have time to answer your letter this week. Never mind, I’ll get even with you some day and then you will be sorry.
I must say that for someone who doesn’t have anything to write about you certainly can use a lot of words. Judging from your letter, I should say you had quite an eventful week and plenty to write about. So it is a ticket taker in a theater you are after now. Well you could do lots worse. It might be well to cultivate his acquaintance if he is going to join the police force. He might be able to continue tearing tickets in two for you and I don’t mean theater tickets either.
Boy is it hot in this room or is it hot. I think if there was a thermometer in here, it would register about 140 degrees. It’s not only hot but the mosquitos are quite active and my feet feel as though someone besides me had walked on them all day. Outside of that I guess everything is quite comfortable here.
The job will last a least a part of and possibly all of next week. There are only fifteen of us left down there so it goes rather slow. I think we will have to work Saturday again this week so that means plenty to do here again Sunday. I’ll try and get into Albany as soon as possible but it probably won’t be before 3 o’clock your time, so if you plan on anything with Ben and Florence, don’t count on me before then.
Was I relieved when I read your letter and found out you were coming back to Albany if you do go home. Two months is a long time but at least it is a lot better than an indefinite length of time. Just don’t forget to come back, my dear, and I’ll probably live through it.
This letter isn’t very long or interesting I’ll admit but when they come so often you can’t expect much else. Maybe if it was a little cooler and I wasn’t quite so tired, I could write more but as it is I’m going to ask to be excused and say good night.
Dave
July 19, 1935
349-A Madison Avenue
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
Now that I have received a letter from you I can write. I am at sea again or should I say yet. There is no work in sight yet and I can’t figure out what to do. I have a chance to work for my board and room taking care of a baby a year and a half old, with the privilege of staying on register. The lady is going to the hospital about the ninth of August at which time they expect an arrival. During the two weeks she is in the hospital she would want me to keep house and take care of the baby. Those two weeks I couldn’t be on register but they would pay me something. I told them I wouldn’t work as a nurse for any less than I am supposed to. They said they couldn’t afford to pay for a nurse so if I go there, the wages won’t be so much, however better than nothing. After the two weeks are up I can continue staying there on register. If I do get work, I can pay them room rent. It is a nice home on Albion Avenue, the little street opposite the convalescent home. So I wouldn’t be far from Sosville. Loretta says it is better than what she is doing for only room and board. She advises me to take it. I know I can’t continue rooming and boarding in a restaurant so if I don’t take this opportunity, I will probably go home.
I haven’t given a definite answer yet but I think I will take it. If you can make it, I would like to have you come up Saturday night at any time it is convenient for you. I will be in most any time unless I’m out eating. I’ll move my things and go back with you and stay over the weekend and do Lydia’s (also my own) washing Monday. You can bring me back to the city Monday night. When you come up, will you stop and get the suitcase and you can tell Lydia about the new place.
Gee, I sure would like to get settled once and stay put. If there is anything I hate, it is moving. You know how I love to pack. I hate to give this room up. The people where I am going are friends of Mack’s.
I had a letter from Mom yesterday and she said they got back to Adams at midnight Monday. She had my pen in her pocketbook so she sent it back. Tell Lydia so she won’t be looking for it.
They had Billy along with them the other day and he absolutely refused to kiss me. Afterwards Mom asked him why he wouldn’t kiss me and he said he wasn’t kissing girls that used lipstick. He has rather old fashioned ideas for a little guy.
Ruth Parker and Loretta Sosville
Last night Al took Loretta, her sister and me for a ride. They went in swimming but Mrs. Johnson and I sat on the bank and watched them. I would have gone in but it was getting dark and the water was deep and in as much as I can’t swim, I decided it was best not to. We went to some lake around Averill Park. Oh yes, and we had some ice cream, too.
I have stayed in one night already this week, so I don’t know if Ben and Florence have been over or not. I don’t think they have or Mrs. Mack would have said something about it.
Seems like we are going to have a little shower. I hope it cools things off a little. I thought for a while I was going to melt and be nothing but a grease spot.
Yeah, you would say your finger was ready to get well itself anyway. I told Sosville you wanted her to come down and take care of you and she is all atwitter or sompin’. She is a swell nurse, only I would advise you to have your will fixed beforehand because they have two patients up at the home who are just alive and are expected to stop breathing any minute. That’s what she does for people.
Gee, its dark and the blinds blew shut along with everything else. I have to have the lights on or else I can’t see. The radio won’t be any good tonight. I hope someone comes to see me, I am commencing to feel bored and I suppose you are, so I think I’ll be hanging up.
Toodle-oo,
“Me”
P.S. I just happened to think if my old letters were here instead of in Preston Hollow, I could spend a whole afternoon reviewing them. Nurts!
Trouble, trouble, trouble all I have is trouble. Everything happens to me. Life is so futile!
July 20, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
My dear Ruth,
Don’t ask me why the possessive form at the start of this letter, because I can’t tell you myself unless it is because I’m just trying to fool myself. I was tired of writing all these letters and starting them all just “Dear Ruth,” so I thought I would vary it a little. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe I’ll find a better heading than this for the next one.
I’m anxious to hear from you and find out how you felt after I left you and how you got thru the night. You don’t know how near I came to bringing you back to P.H. with me, despite your protests that you had to work. I still don’t know but what that would have been the best thing. I hope you have heard from your Mother by now and that she is lots better. I know that would cheer you up more than anything in the world. I’m not much good at comforting a person when they feel as you did Wednesday evening. I’m more than apt to say the wrong thing at the right time, but I did feel awfully sorry for you and I hope you found something to cheer you up a little that night.
I stayed at Lydia’s a little while when I came back. Guess I got home about ten o’clock. I told her about the girls wanting you to go in an apartment with them. She didn’t say much but I think she feels about the same as I that you can do much better than where you are. Of course you probably would have more company and it might keep you from getting so lonesome, so it’s up to you to do what you think best. Lydia says to tell you that you ought to call Zelma if you get the chance. She has called you twice and been over to see you once when you were on Jay Street but it was always when you were out.
I put in my first day at the camp today and what a day it was. I planned on getting home early and doing some work here, but when I got here I just flopped in a chair and have hardly moved since. For once I’ve got to admit that after eight hours work, I’m licked. I knew that laying floor was hard work but I never expected to be as tired as this. As soon as I write a few more lines, I’m going right to bed.
I got the kitten back today that Charles was supposed to have so I’ll take it down to him Sunday if I don’t forget it again.
If you don’t mind too much, I think I’ll work Sunday morning instead of coming in after you, but if nothing happens, I’ll try and come in during the afternoon. I will probably get there about 3:00 or 3:30. If I come, I’ll call you on the phone before I come to the house so there will be no need of your getting up for nothing.
For now I’ll say bye, bye and hope to see you Sunday.
“Me”
Footnotes
- “Dicky” is Ed’s young son, Richard. See previous post for more detail.
- The Ten Eyck Hotel. Located at 83 State St. in Albany, construction started in 1917, and the building opened in 1918. It was a 17 story building that held a restaurant and oyster bar, and hosted many events, dances, and meetings. It was operated by United Hotels in the mid-30s, but was bought by Sheraton in the 1950’s, and business lasted until the late 60’s. The building was demolished in 1971.