With Lydia now in Preston Hollow, Ruth tries to visit there when she can get a ride with mutual friends of theirs. This week is “Decoration Day”, now known as Memorial day. This holiday fell on Thursday this week, so this is another short post.
May 27, 1935
70 Jay Street
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
How is you, or aren’t you on speaking terms with crabs? I wouldn’t blame you much if you weren’t. I seem to have developed a rather lousy disposition of late, not that it ever was anything to brag about.
If I’m not careful, I’ll be worse than Florence.
You don’t know how lucky you were that you didn’t bring me home last night. Gee, I was tired and sleepy. I fear you wouldn’t have found me very good company. I slept most of the way home. It was 1:10 when I got up stairs and I hung up my clothes and got my uniform ready for morning and was all in bed with the windows up and lights out at 1:15. I hope you weren’t hurt because I didn’t let you bring me home. I appreciated the offer, but it is such a long drive and it must be awfully lonesome all alone. Besides I know how it feels to work hard all day after not having any sleep.
You did very well to get your car working again, it must seem good. I hope it continues to work.
Your mother must have gotten a swell impression of me. My hair was standing on end and I had big circles under my eyes, in other words, I was a perfect example of a mess. When I saw your mother, I thought she was one of your sisters until Fran told me the difference.
Loretta Sosville, 1935
Oh boy, this morning they put me in the nursery to work and do I like it. They are even better than kittens. I have one poor baby that I have to feed with a medicine dropper every fifteen or twenty minutes. He gets about two drops at a time and then he chokes. I am just crazy about the work. I wish I could spend all my time there but there isn’t a chance. Sosville said she told them how much she liked babies but they wouldn’t take the hint. We have an appendix operation in the morning so they will probably pile more work on. There are three of us on days now so it won’t be so hard.
Florence seems to think Wednesday night is the best night to call on Lyd and Fran so we will probably be at your house some time during the evening. She did plan to leave Albany about 8 p.m. and that is about all I know about her plans. If we aren’t there before morning, don’t stay up and wait for us.
I guess I’ll go to bed and see if the radio will work. I expect to see you Wednesday night.
Ruth P.
P.S. I bet you can’t interpret this epistle!
May 29, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruth,
Wednesday evening 10:00 p.m. and it looks as if something had gone wrong with the plans. Of course, I’m disappointed because I didn’t see you but otherwise I can’t say I am so much. I’m unusually tired tonight for some reason and I probably wouldn’t have added much life to the party. My eyes are also on the bum. Everything I look at seems to blur so if this writing looks the same way, you’ll know the reason.
I should have written before but I expected to see you tonight so I let it slide. I can’t use that for an excuse though because you were good enough to write under the same conditions. Thanks a lot. The letter helped to make up for not seeing you.
I wasn’t really hurt because you went home with Ben and Florence Sunday night. I wanted to take you home of course but maybe it is just as well I didn’t. I wasn’t quite sure just how to take you that night so most of the time I just kept still and laid it to the fact that you were tired and sleepy. How about my pin? Were you serious when you took that and do you mean to keep it?
Don’t worry about the impression that Mother got of you. It’s still the same as she had when she looked at your picture and you remember that don’t you. And that goes for me, too, even though you may be a little out of tune sometime I still think you are pretty nice.
David W. Jackson (1844-1925), father of Ida Coffin; David Coffin’s grandfather.
Tomorrow is Mother’s birthday as well as Decoration Day.1 I suppose it won’t be much of a holiday for you. I am going to take Mother to the cemetery the first thing in the morning and then come back and go to work myself.2 Holidays don’t mean a thing anymore.
I don’t suppose you know a thing about when your next day off will be. If I don’t see you or hear anything different from you, I’ll try and be in Albany Sunday night. I’ll tell you the same as you did me though, don’t sit up all night waiting for me because I never can tell what will happen from one day to another.
When I started this letter there was a dozen things I was going to write about but most of them have gone out of my mind and all I can do is sit here and blink my eyes, so I’ll call it quits and say good-night.
“Me”
May 29, 1935
70 Jay Street
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
Here I am writing but I don’t think I should be, this one-way correspondence doesn’t go over so big. Remember the week you only got one letter and you nearly had a fit?
As you no doubt will have gathered by the time you receive this, we aren’t calling on the Spragues tonight. I couldn’t let you know before because I didn’t know it myself until I got home from work and found a card from Florence. She said some of the crowd couldn’t go so they called it off. I hope you didn’t sit up too long waiting. The part I feel bad about is Florence told me to call Zelma and have her meet them at the station and now I have no way of letting her know. It doesn’t matter much to me as I don’t feel so swell anyhow. I guess I have consumthing or other.
I have no idea when I will get my day off again. It is quite apt to remain a deep, dark secret until the last minute then it will be too late to plan anything. I have a queer idea that after I have my next day off they will put me back on night duty. Gee, do I dread that, however, I am anxious to get it over with.
Miss Van Deusen let Sosville and I go at 6:50 p.m. If I had been going somewhere, I wouldn’t have been through until nearly 8:00. That’s how it goes.
Have you seen “Lyd” and Fran this week? Don’t forget Lydia invited you to come and play cards some night. I guess you were supposed to bring Mary, Betty, Hortense, or whatever her name may be, with you. Have they got the station open yet?
Gosh darn, I did plan to go out and mail this tonight, but it wouldn’t do any good as you won’t get any mail tomorrow.
How do you like the blots? It sure is tough not to be able to say hell just because I am a lady.
If you should by chance see Lydia, you might tell her that my finances are below par. If I don’t have some of that little essential known as money, I’ll have to make reservations for myself in the poor house. Don’t forget to tell her to wire me some money P.D.Q.
Unless you hear more from me about my day off, you can come up Sunday night (if you still want to). If you don’t, let me know and I’ll make other plans. Are you still peeved at me or have you busted your arm so you can’t write. Hey, will you kindly enlighten me as to what the argument was all about Sunday night. I have tried to think all the week and I don’t know yet. I have to laugh when I think about it. I have been good natured all the week and we raise the deuce all the time. I haven’t laughed so much in ages. I suppose the next time I see you, I’ll be having a reaction and you’ll be the victim again. Sometimes I’ll take a lot of kidding and then again I get mad right off the bat. Sunday must have been one of my off days.
For want of something better to do, I think I’ll go to bed and listen to the radio.
If you’re not mad, will you please write. If you are mad, you had better get over it, because it is bad for your condition. It might make you have a temperature, make your pulse more rapid and don’t forget with high blood pressure you might develop a case of apoplexy or sompin’.
Nuff sed,
Ruth P.
P.S. I get through work at 6:30 (your time) instead of 7:00 now.
Footnotes
- Decoration day in the northern states was always held on May 30. That holiday was typically for decorating graves of war veterans with flags and flowers. After WWII, it became known as “Memorial Day”, and Federal law in 1967. In 1968, Congress passed the “uniform Monday Holiday Act”, and it was moved to a specified Monday in May.
- It is very likely that they went to visit the grave of Ida’s parents, David (1844-1925) and Mary (Decker) Jackson (1844-1928). David Jackson was a veteran of the Civil War, served in the 134th New York Infantry, Co. E. He enlisted on Aug 14, 1862 at the age of 18 and served for three years. He and Mary Anne Decker married on December 17, 1865. They had two daughters, Emma (b. ~1867) and Ida (b. 1875). They are buried in the Hagadorn Mace Cemetery, Schoharie County NY.