There are letters every day for this particular week (Mon-Fri), so this is a long post! Lydia has left Albany for home and she, Ruth, and friends attend another bridal shower for her. Francis tries to get a “new” car, and Dave finally finds a paying job, though it is short term. Ruth hears from her sister that her mother has injured herself from a fall.
April 29, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruth,
Six thirty P.M. and while I’m waiting for supper I might as well commence my Monday evening duty. I would like to make someone a bet at about ten to one odds that you have already written a letter to me or at least started one in spite of the fact that I agree to let you skip thru this week without writing. Probably that is why I consented so easily to that arrangement, having such confidence in you, I felt pretty sure you would write anyway. In case you should cross me up though and not write I’ll just have to take it and like it.
Did you hear us when we went back thru Albany last night? We went over and got Bud out of bed and then came back up Jay Street. You might have been asleep already but I doubt it. We left Albany at 3:10 and arrived here 3:30. How’s that for making time? This staying on old time while the rest of the world moves on has plenty of advantages. I just discovered a new one tonight. By the time I come in the house nights all of the kids programs are over. Just imagine how disappointed I was to discover that.
LaVere has discovered a new way to amuse himself and I wish you could hear it. We have an old organ here that has been sitting peacefully in an unused room for a long time. Tonight he went in there and started in on it. Of all the dismal sounds that are issuing from that room, the cats on Jay Street are music when compared to it. Since he had to stop playing the clarinet he is taking piano lessons but he must have decided he could do better on the organ. One of the neighbors told him he was going to be a second Walter Damrosch, and I told him when he gets as bad as that he’ll have to get out of here.1 Holy cats, now he has discovered an old 1900 model phonograph and some records just as old. What fun.
How did you manage to get thru today? O.K. I hope. I got a break this morning and I was so grateful for it I didn’t even ask how come. No one called me for breakfast this morning and when I came to it was nine o’clock. I came downstairs with rather a sheepish look on my face but not a word was said. I didn’t open the subject.
Tuesday A.M.
I guess the weather man thinks we have had enough summer weather for a while. It is cold and raining today so I’m taking it easy. Do you have to work when it rains? Tough, I’d say.
I suppose Fran is keeping bachelor’s hall by now. At least he intended to go down Monday and stay. Maybe he will get to like it so well he will change his mind before the 18th of May.2 Yes, yes, I see him doing that. He likes to keep house about as much as I do.
Did Lydia go to Catskill? She didn’t say anything about seeing Fran next Sunday but I’d like to make another one of my rash bets that she will somehow. Here’s hoping Fran gets a car this week. With only nine weeks left I can’t afford to miss many Sundays. Probably with Lydia gone these last nine weeks will seem longer to you than all the rest of the time you have been down here, but I’ll do my best to see you as much as possible and that may help out a little. Sounds as though I’m trying to make myself out as a good Samaritan or sompin, but I don’t mean it that way because it’s as much for my own pleasure as yours that I want to see you. It goes without saying that I hate to see you leave but I realize you would probably have a much better time up home among your friends. Not only that but it would be impossible for you to stay in the city without work. Maybe a miracle will happen and you will get work when you are thru, in which case I’m hoping you would stay. If I could afford it, I probably would get sick myself and hire you for a nurse just to keep you down here. How’s that for an idea?
Don’t forget to look up the back correspondence in regards to that dance. I’m quite sure I told you but of course I could be mistaken. I am enclosing part of that advertisement from Occident Flour,3 just to prove I am right once in a while. How much do they pay you for the use of your name?
It’s nearly time for the mailman so I’ll stop and wait for that letter you aren’t going to write.
Dave
April 30, 1935
70 Jay Street
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
I am starting this as usual just before the battle or sompin’. I am in hopes this will be my last trip down here for a while, at least. He said he thought he could do all the rest of the work today.
Wait until you hear how I spent my evening last night. You surely won’t have any sympathy for me. While returning home, I ran into Hickey and Grasse,4 so says Grasse, “Why don’t you come down to our apartment?” I considered and re-considered the invitation and after scratching my head for several minutes, in deep thought, I consented.
We spent a very enjoyable evening talking about those who were not present. We also discussed such desirable topics as people dying, cancers, convulsions, etc. About 10:30 I remembered that I was sleepy so the meeting was adjourned and I made Hickey walk home with me. It was several minutes behind eleven when I finally retired. Some night we are going room hunting and see if there is such a thing as a vacant room around Lark Street.
Lydia took her departure yesterday morning. I tried to make her stay in bed longer but I guess she was afraid someone would nab her without my protection. She must have been awfully tired. I hope she doesn’t have to work so hard from now on.
I’m going to miss her a bit but I am glad for her sake she has gone. She probably will have to work hard just the same, but she will at least have the satisfaction of knowing it is for herself.
Gee whiz, you sure asked a puzzler when you asked me what Fran could get Lydia. Florence suggests a cameo necklace, but I don’t believe they are being used anymore. She says they are but I think it is because she has one. I heard Lydia say the other day that she had always wanted a locket she could put a picture in. That also sounds old fashioned to me. She has two birthstone rings, watch, camera, dresser set and nearly everything you could mention. The only suggestion I can make is a dresser clock. I know she hasn’t one and it is something they are going to need. I started talking to Fran the other night but “Lyd” happened along so we had to quit. I suppose I could loan them Macbeth but I suppose he isn’t swell enough and probably the alarm would be annoying. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.
Did you find the kittens yet? I should have looked them up Sunday night and picked one out for Fran. I can see he is delighted with the thought of having a cat around. I fear you haven’t looked very hard for the kittens or maybe you looked and forgot to wear your glasses. Incidentally, if you clean your glasses the way you did mine, you couldn’t see anything if you did have them on.
“Lyd” said to tell you that it will be o.k. if you don’t come up Sunday night as she plans to come and spend the night with me. Woe unto her if she lets me down and I don’t mean perhaps.
Such a day as this has been! When I went to the dentist, I got all wet so I felt like a duck. Oh well, I should worry. This weather will make the frogs peep or sompin’.
Florence was in good humor Sunday night. I don’t know what ailed her unless she was peeved because they had to wait, but she knew what time I finished work. She showed a lot of interest. She couldn’t even be bothered getting out to look at the station.
Monday 9 p.m. D.S.T
Well I had my tooth out and it didn’t hurt at all, only when his hand slipped and hit the tooth he filled. He is going to fill the other two Friday. He started to send me home after drilling the first tooth. He said he thought I had stood enough torture for one day, but I assured him I would be glad to get it over with. I think the cavities were deeper than he thought.
Niles, Grace, and baby Carlton Lord
I had a letter from my sister5 tonight and she said my mother fell and I guess she was hurt quite badly. She didn’t know my sister wrote to me about it and that fixes it so I can’t say anything to her about it. She was afraid I would worry. She is the kind of person who won’t tell how bad she feels and she keeps working all the time. It sure makes me feel nice to be away from home and hear something like that. If I find she doesn’t get better, I’ll go home and she won’t know it until I get there. As much as I want to get a diploma, I would go home for keeps if she needs me. I have a lot more time in now than most of the girls. I have sixty more days and I already have ninety days in now. I suppose I have bored you enough with my troubles, but I don’t have Lydia to tell my troubles to now, so I’ll probably burden you with them.
I’ll see what luck I’ll have switching to a more cheerful topic. Oh boy! I’m eating maple sugar and is it good or is it good. I might send you a smell of it if you promise not to eat it all at once and get a pain in your tummy. I shouldn’t though because you wouldn’t send me any ice cream. Yeah, it was a weak excuse about it being chocolate. Who is it that gets the kidding about chocolate milk? I’d even eat peppermint if it was homemade, so there. I won’t hold it against you this time and will send you some maple sugar, if you’ll stop teasing me.
Wow, there goes my theme song, I mean one of them. “When I Grow too Old to Dream.” I’m listening to Bing Crosby and do I like him.
By the way, you might share the sugar I send you with LaVere providing he doesn’t use his rifle on the kittens. Maybe he isn’t as heartless as his “Big Brother” and I don’t mean Ward.
I just heard a police broadcast about a car being stolen. I immediately thought of you and Fran. You have a different car every time I see you. Well I hope you have good luck concealing it.
Have you convinced Fran that we really did go out to see the chickens?
“When I grow too Old to Dream” (1934); Song lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II, most notably performed by Nat King Cole
I only wish the chickens could talk. I bet you are glad they can’t cause they would tell me every time you snatch a nap in the brooder house.
I have to write to my sister and Zelma yet tonight, so I’ll have to cut this short, but it will be okay as I wasn’t supposed to write this week anyway.
Hold everything, there goes “La Cucaracha”. Gee, the radio is swell tonight.
I have to write and send Zelma some money so she can get me something for “Lyd’s” shower. I would like the pleasure of doing it myself, but my time seems to be occupied.
I’ve nearly busted my neck to write this much, so I’ll be waiting for a quick answer. Just by way of getting even with you, I will leave the last page for any “wise cracks” you may have to offer about the contents of this epistle.
Ruth P.
Now 10 p.m. D.S.T.
May 1, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruth,
O.K. You win the Brown Derby or sumpin. I didn’t get my letter today. Maybe it is just as well I didn’t find anyone to make that bet with but then one can’t be right all the time and as much as I agreed to it, I’ll still do the same.
Boy, has it been cold today. Maybe not so bad by the thermometer, but since I’ve shed three layers of red flannels it feels like zero to me.
I went down to Preston Hollow today and went down to see Francis while I was there. The station isn’t officially open yet but he does sell gas when an occasional customer comes in. He is waiting for the Shell people to bring his signs and he is still without a license. I hope they have better luck getting the lunch room opened up on time than they have had with the station. The electrician was there wiring the house today. While I was there he spent most of his time trying to get one outlet hooked up on a se
parate circuit so Fran could run the radio and have some light at night. He stays down there every night now and takes his meals at Salisbury’s. The car he expected to buy was sold Sunday before he even got a chance at it, but he has got track of another one now. It is a 1933 Pontiac Sport Coupe in fine condition.6 The fellow who owns it is trading it in for a new one and as soon as he does Fran expects to get it. Let’s hope it goes thru before Sunday.
Are you going to the shower down at Jo’s Thursday night? I don’t know why I should ask questions in this letter when I don’t expect to get an answer. But then this one-sided correspondence doesn’t go on forever you know, and if I shouldn’t be able to get into the city Sunday night, I’ll expect your letter next week. In fact I’ll expect it then anyway. This letter makes us even again you know.
Next week I expect to be working again for a change. Took a job to tear down an old house and barn for $50. Of course I’ll have to hire one man to help and it will probably take seven or eight days but if I can make $25 in that length of time, I’ll feel like a millionaire.
Sorry I can’t make this longer but I’ve given you all the news so there is nothing more to say except that I’m hoping to see you Sunday.
Dave
May 1, 1935
70 Jay Street
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
I sure do wish I had bet with you about me writing a letter Monday. I didn’t laugh much when I read your letter. It must be swell to have confidence like that.
Yeah, we heard you go by here Monday morning. I sez, there oughta be a law agin’ civilized people being disturbed by a couple of hoodlums such as you at such an unearthly hour. We thought of calling the police.
Seems to me like you have a habit of getting breaks on Monday morning. Just think, when you got up I had been to work two hours. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing “I can take it”.
Lydia said she wasn’t seeing Fran again. I am of the opinion that she will see Fran, and probably Meadie and Dan will take her down Sunday. If she stands me up after telling me to tell you not to come up, I’ll disinherit her.
I guess maybe you are right about the weeks seeming long since Lydia has gone. I guess I forgot to tell you that I really do appreciate the fact that you realize I might be lonesome up here alone. It takes me a long time for anything to soak in, you know, I’m sort of dense. However, I appreciate your thoughtfulness and thanks a lot.
That idea you had about getting sick wasn’t so good. I fear you wouldn’t survive. If you’d ever tell me to shut up, I might not be able to control my temper. I wouldn’t dare try to force you to eat for fear of losing a hand. It might be o.k. though, at least you would be sure of a close shave for once in your life. Pul-ease don’t get sick ‘cause onions aren’t in season yet and I would feel duty bound to send you a bouquet.
Pardon me a minute. There, that is settled. Pardon me again while I offer myself some congratulations. Yeah, I just read your letter of December 24 and 25 written to Adams Center and I find nothing about a dance. Seems like one of us is wrong! Since you are from Missouri, remind me to show you the letter some time.
Gee, the weather sure is cold. It changes so fast that I have a coat on every chair, bed, dresser and table in the room. You see, I don’t get a chance to hang them up between changes.
Pardon all the errors in this would-be epistle, but “It’s Town Hall Tonight.”
Well I talked with crab in person over the telephone today. I mean Bedell. For a big shot he isn’t so bad though. Tomorrow I guess we are having Pitts and a general specialist in to see what in thunder is at the bottom of the difficulties. In case you don’t know what a general specialist is, I take it he is a guy who specializes in everything, if there is such a thing. I doubt if he does any good, but it won’t do any harm to try.
My song again, “When I Grow too Old to Dream”. I gotta quit and go to bed as Macbeth says it is time and keeps handing me dirty looks which remind me that I don’t like to get up mornings and he always insists.
By the way, if your chickens caught cold from the fire getting low Monday morning, you had better apply mustard plasters to their chests, soak their feet and give them a dose of soda bicarb.
Now, “sleepy head”, may I take time out for a snooze?
Ruth
May 2, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruth,
A fine pal you turned out to be. Here I have been consoling myself all week because you weren’t going to write and then you up and spoil it all by writing anyway. What’s a guy supposed to do I ask you? The letter was welcome though, I assure you. Probably if it hadn’t come today I would have had to answer some questions here at home and no doubt the mailman would even have stopped to ask if anything was wrong. You see your letters have been so regular of late there is hardly any use of a calendar around here.
Sorry to hear about your mother. I do hope she isn’t hurt very bad. I wouldn’t blame you a bit for going home if she really needed you. After all a mother is a person’s best friend and one can never do enough for them to repay them for all they have done for us.
So I still didn’t keep you out late enough to make you go to bed early Monday night. All I can say is I’ll try and do better next time. You certainly pick some nice topics to discuss. I should think you would get enough of that during the day.
Fran said you told him about the dresser clock. I don’t know if that is what he will get or not. It is quite a problem to decide what to get. I never was good at buying something for someone else. In fact I can’t say that I like to buy anything for myself even.
Haven’t looked for the kittens yet this week. There is no use of further search. When Brownie decides they are old enough she will bring them around herself. I had Joe Cuffy riding horseback today. I’ll bet your Joe can’t do that.
Don’t be afraid of boring me with your troubles. After all what is a friend for if not to share your troubles as well as joys. It sort of relieves one’s feelings to talk sometimes so anytime you feel like it, go right ahead.
Thanks for the maple sugar. I was undecided whether to eat it all at once or not. Probably if I had had a cavity in my tooth, I would have lost it before I had a chance to taste it.
Just had to stop while I listened to Tom Howard and George Sheldon on the Rudy Vallee hour. They’re good. Do you ever hear them?
Guess it is time to stop anyway. Joe Cuffy is walking around my chair getting ready to jump so I’ll fool him and quit writing.
So long,
Dave
May 3, 1935
70 Jay Street
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
I guess you’ll have to blame this on Lydia. After telling me she would be up Sunday night to stay with me, she suddenly decides she won’t be up until Monday. She said to write and tell you to come up if possible and if Fran can come, she wouldn’t mind seeing him. She is going to be at Jo’s and wants us to come down there for the evening. Of course if you don’t come it will be o.k. I might survive even if I do get a little lonesome. I realize your coming up will depend on whether or not Fran gets a car.
Lydia isn’t going home until Tuesday. I sure wish she would make some plans and stick to them. I don’t know a darned thing about what she plans to do and I am supposed to make my plans coincide with hers.
They will have to put a nurse on here to relieve me and I bet she will be here permanently. I will have just one week and one more day of outside practice to get in after May 17th. It’s too bad “Lyd” can’t postpone the big affair until I finish.
We attended the shower last night and Ben got lost on the way down, as usual. We had a good time but not as nice as last week. Florence and I just can’t seem to work up a temperature over that Coeymans Hollow bunch. They seem awfully hard to get acquainted with, but probably ninety-nine percent of it is our own fault. Dan gave “Lyd” another rolling pin. I wonder what he has against Fran.
We had a specialist in yesterday and he says Mrs. Finklestien will never get up. He didn’t tell them anything that Pitts hadn’t already said. I don’t know if they are satisfied now or not. He said with plenty of liquid, food and care such as she has been getting, she may linger on indefinitely. He seemed pleased that she was being well kept and said we we’re doing everything we could.
How is LaVere making out with his organ recitals? He probably thinks he has to do something to compete with your snoring.
Florence said she had the blues because Lydia left the city and cried all day Monday. I told her that was a swell thing to tell me. Ben told her there was no sense of her being a baby, that she didn’t have half as much to feel bad about as I have and he bet I could take it on the chin. I sure hope he is right. I haven’t been very lonesome this week, I just don’t seem to get time. When I do get time, I feel more like sleeping than crying. I’ll probably feel different when I know Lydia is at home, but it won’t be for very long. She seems to be sort of a big sister to everyone.
By the way, I saw Fannie last night for the first time and now I can see how you might have laughed at her when she fell over in a barrel or whatever that was. Ye Gods!
The next time you see that little bird who told you last week that spring was here, you tell him I said he was all wet. To me this looks about as much like spring as it did last November.
If you come up Sunday night, Lydia might send her junk that she got at the shower back by you.
It’s nearly lunch time, so me thinks this will be the finis.
Ruth
P.S. If you don’t get this, please write and let me know. Maybe it got lost in the mail. I won’t know whether you are coming Sunday night or not, so if you aren’t here, I’ll go home probably between 7:30 and 8:00. If you should come down to the house, be sure and ring the bell loud and long.
Footnotes
- Walter Damrosch (1862-1950). German-born (in what is now part of Poland) conductor and composer. He conducted the New York Philharmonic orchestra during the 1902-03 season, which was considered disastrous. He later inaugurated a radio program for NBC called “the NBC Music Appreciation Hour” which lasted from 1928 to 1942. This program aired during daytime hours and was aimed toward grade-school students (teachers were provided with textbooks and worksheets by the network). He was criticized for adding silly lyrics to music to “help” students with appreciation, rather than letting the music speak for itself.
- May 18 is the date of Francis and Lydia’s upcoming wedding.
- This enclosure seems to have been lost since it was not with this original letter. Visit this post to see the letter dated April 17, 1935 for the previous reference to Occident Flour.
- Referred to as Bertha Grosse in previous letters (see the March 1-3 post for her photo). These ladies are Ruth’s classmates.
- J. Grace Parker Lord (1903-1980) married Niles C. Lord (1896-1970) in 1920. By 1935, they had four children ranging in ages from 5-13, Carlton (b. 1921), Alfred (b. 1924), Lydia (b. 1926), and Eleanor (b. 1930). They later had a son, Phillip, b. 1938.
- Pontiac was a division of GM (named after Pontiac, MI); production started in 1926. Pontiac cars were the lower priced version of Oakland automobiles, which were dropped by GM in 1931. Pontiac production was discontinued in 2009. Dave Coffin seemed to favor Pontiac sedans later in life.
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