June 13-20, 1936

Dave and Ruth consider if or when they should marry. Jennie showed some improvement, but a new doctor they visit gave a grim diagnosis. Bill writes that he will stay on his current job instead of coming home. Ruth gets a lot of help from Grace, Ethel, and Dot.

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June 13, 1936

Middleburg, N.Y.

My Darling,

I received your letter tonight and even though I can’t mail this until Monday I’ll make an attempt to start answering it now.

You remember I told you how hard it is to say everything or make any arrangement in a letter.  I didn’t know then that it would be half as hard as it seems right now.  If I could have written everything right down as fast as I thought of it since I read your letter, I might have done a fairly decent job, but now everything is all jumbled up and I can’t put it all in words.  I would give most anything for just one hour to talk with you now.

First let me say that whatever anyone has said about us has not influenced me in the least.  I have got some sort of a mind of my own and even though I do seem changeable I’m not depending on someone else’s opinion to tell me what to do.  I am interested in what they say of course but it is only natural curiosity.  I did think that if too many people expressed the opinion that we were crazy, I would abandon the idea for a while because I didn’t like the idea of having them pass remarks behind your back, as I know they would do.

I don’t remember just what your Mother did say now but I took it to mean her consent and not an opinion of hers that we ought to get married.  As for Percy and Janie, maybe I have talked too much about what they said but I think half of it was in a joking way.  I certainly never got the idea anyone was trying to rush me and if I said anything to imply that, I’m sorry.  I’ve probably said plenty already in this letter that doesn’t sound the way I mean it.  It doesn’t even make sense to me as I read it over, but I can’t do any better.  Maybe I’m making it too strong and you will think I am peeved or something, but I’m not, honey.  I just love you so much that I hate the thought of having any kind of misunderstanding and I overdo it in trying to straighten it out.  Please don’t be sorry for having told me anything, dear.  I know if you feel that way about it, you will shut right down and won’t even tell me what you think yourself.

In one place your letter sounds as though you may have reached the decision it would be wiser for us not to get married now.  I’m not questioning that bit of logic at all.  When it comes right down to hard common sense, I suppose we should wait until we have an entire house full of furniture and the assurance of a steady income.  On the other hand, while we are acquiring that we go on seeing each other when and wherever we can and enduring almost perfect torture all the while.  The question is which would be the hardest to endure, the torture or the hardships of doing without some of the necessary luxuries of life.  For myself, going without you is by far the hardest, but for you I think it will be harder to try and keep house without the necessary equipment.  That’s where I get all mixed up trying to make a decision.  If I ask you to marry me now, I’m satisfying my own selfish desires and if I don’t, I know I’ll go through H___ a million times.

Since I saw you last I have been practically living on the possibility of our getting married and somehow the thought seemed to bolster me up even though it did scare me a little too.  I haven’t much doubt but what we would get along some way if it could only be made decently easy on you.

Of course you have your Mother to think of.  However, in my opinion she will be up and doing her own work before long.  I don’t think you should be expected to stay there indefinitely.  Somehow I can’t seem to sympathize with the theory that children should sacrifice their future for parents.  I don’t mean that to sound callous or that you are doing wrong now.  Under the circumstances you couldn’t very well have done anything else, but there should be a limit to it I think.

My precious, it is well along toward midnight and if I haven’t run out of words, my hand is giving out.  I know I haven’t done a very good job at what I set out to do, but if I can set your mind at ease concerning the influence of other people’s opinions on me, I’ll be satisfied for now.  I’m going to bed now and try and sleep on it.  Goodnight, my darling girl.  I love you truly.

12:30 P.M., Sunday.

I have just come in from cultivating the garden.  Just as we finished it started raining and believe me the ground is soaking it up.  Seven days in the week and it had to pick Sunday to rain.  I’m going to keep running around on that old tire until it blows out and I’ll find myself walking home.

We are going down to Lula’s for dinner today.  Mom is already down there and she called up to tell us to come.

Friday night I went to P.H. and stayed until about ten o’clock.  Nothing much was said and we spent most of the time listening to the radio.  It seemed good to hear one again.  Ours hasn’t been working for over a month.  They were planning on going to Albany last night to pay for the refrigerator.  I could have gone with them and got my tires but my Father was expecting me to take him to M. and I knew if I didn’t, he would have something to rave over for a week so I didn’t go.

Lydia expected Dan, Meadie, Arthur and Hildar there for dinner today.  They asked me to come but I’m not going.  I may run down a little while this evening if I feel like it.  I got up with a mile long headache this morning, the first one I have had in a long time.  Probably just some of the meanness working out of me.

About 3 o’clock Friday night our telephone started ringing everyone on the line.  There was a fire in Franklinton.  I slipped my clothes on over my pajamas and went up but there wasn’t anything we could do.  It was a large two-story barn and shed and they burned completely.  All the stock was out but he lost all of his equipment, including a milking machine and an old Model T Ford.  It was daylight when we got back.

You didn’t say that you told the Dr. to tell Bill to come home, but I hope you did.  Honestly, dear, you just can’t stay there alone much longer or you will be a wreck yourself.

Claude just came up and said dinner is waiting so I’ll have to go.  I’ll try and finish this later, dear.

Now to resume.  It is 10 P.M. and I have just come back from P.H.  My headache left me after dinner and I went down there about four o’clock.  All the expected guests were there and they were just finishing the dishes when I arrived.  I guess it was about eight o’clock when they left for home.

LaVere went out and got himself a job for the summer today.  It is washing dishes at a boys’ camp near Crystal Lake.  He will know how to do it before the summer is over.  They keep about fifty boys there besides fifteen or twenty adults.  He gets ten dollars a week and board.

Now would be a good chance to tackle Dr. Lally if you were here.  I saw in the paper today where 3,000 bonus checks will be issued in Albany tomorrow.¹

It rained here most of the afternoon but it has stopped now.  It has done a lot of good to the gardens even if I didn’t get to the city.

Well, sweetheart, I guess I have covered all the items of interest so I’ll return to the subject of most interest.  You will probably think me crazy when you read all of this.  I don’t get a writing spree very often, but when I do, look out.  Probably my next letter will be short enough to write on a postcard.

I have been thinking all day about us and the more I think the more it seems to me that we should get married if it can possibly be arranged.  Or maybe I should say if seems to me it will be more than I can stand if we don’t get married because it is impossible to decide which would be the best for us financially.  We can’t look far enough in the future to decide that.  I do know that all of our happiness is when we are together and if we are married, we will be quite apt to see each other a lot more.  Even if something is troubling me and I am with you, the comfort you give me helps an awful lot.  If we can share our troubles together, they might be easier.  At least I don’t see when they could be any harder.  Those are my views as near as I can express them in writing and I hope you can understand from this mess I have written something of how I really mean it.  If you think we shouldn’t get married, or for any reason you haven’t told me, don’t want to get married yet, don’t be afraid to tell me.  I want to do what will help you the most.  Your happiness is what I am trying to aim at, precious.  If I can do any little thing to help you, it makes me happy.

If we do get married, it has got to be so you can leave there for at least a week.  Getting married one day and leaving you the next doesn’t go over very big with me, does it with you, hon?

There was something else I wanted to say, dear, but I can’t think of it.  You will probably be glad I couldn’t because it will take all day to figure this out now.  I suppose I will have to wait until Thursday to get your answer to all of this and that seems ages away.  I hope the mail doesn’t play any tricks either way and I hope your Mom feels a lot better.  You must have done her some good anyway if her blood pressure is nearly down to normal.

I love you, my precious girl, so goodnight and God bless you, darling.

“Me”

P.S.  I hope the shock of this thick letter doesn’t do things to you.  Do you suppose your old landlady on Jay Street would have trouble pushing it under the door?

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June 14, 1936

Adams Center, N.Y.

Dear Dave,

The last letter I wrote to you I decided I wouldn’t write to you again if I couldn’t write something besides blues.  It is a wonder you don’t dread to get one of my letters.

As per usual there isn’t a thing to write about due to the fact that I never do anything but stay at home.  There have been about a dozen different people here today.  Mom has seemed to feel quite well so far today.  If she has a good night after so much excitement, I will know she is better.  We have been sleeping downstairs as the stairs seem to tire Mom so much.

I worked on our bedspread a little bit yesterday and also today.  I suppose I am a wicked person, anyway, to make matters worse I went out and hoed the tomatoes.

The cat family has been moved to the barn.  Six cats are a few too many to keep on the porch.  Janie has asked me to come down and see her kittens.  She says the next time you come up you can take your kitten back, unless whoever wants it has changed their mind.

Have you heard anything about how much longer you will be on that job?  How long before you expect to know about your work?  I’m not planning much on July 4^th until I know more about it.  I should have quite a few new clothes before we are married.

We haven’t heard anything more from Bill so we don’t know if he is coming home for sure or not.  He should be here Tuesday or Wednesday.  When he gets here he can do the getting up nights.

Joyce is one of the twenty-five students with the highest average in Adams Center High so she goes to the P.T.A. banquet.  She must take after me for being brilliant.

Have you seen Lydia and Fran recently?  Come to think of it, isn’t this supposed to be the picnic day for the card chef?

Gee whiz, I guess it is about time we got married or something.  I have arrived at the point where it is almost impossible to write anything that even resembles a letter.  I always have been terrible but lately I have been even worse than that.

I have been wondering what my boy has been doing all day for excitement.  I hope not feeling too lonesome.

Monday morning.

We have one less week to wait before we see each other and I certainly hope they aren’t as long as last week was.  Sunday seems like three days when I’m not with you.

I just came in from feeding the cats and rabbits.  We moved the rabbits into the place where the chickens were so Pete can’t get out anymore.

There is work to be done, so that’s that until tomorrow.

I love you, Hon.

Yours,

“Me”

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June 16, 1936

Middleburg, N.Y.

Hello Hon,

I see where I have to stop talking and use a little action such as a hairbrush applied in a good effective place.  It won’t be on your wrist either.  How many times must I tell you not to apologize for writing me your blues and troubles?  What do you think I am in love with you for, just to share your happy moments and let you bear your troubles alone?  Not by a long shot, sweetheart.  Your troubles are mine and I want to know about every one of them.  Besides I’ve yet to see the time when you can put more blues in one letter than I can.  Imagine you even thinking that I would dread to get one of your letters.  I ought to make you eat those words and I think I will if I don’t forget it when I see you next.

There now, how is that for a calling down?  I can just imagine how much good it will do though.

Gosh O gee, hon, only nine days have passed since I saw you and that leaves seventeen to go.  I don’t know if I will be able to stand it or not.  I love you so much, my darling.

If nothing goes wrong, we will probably finish on the bridge by the end of this week.  “Leslie” has another job but it is out of this township and he doesn’t think he will be allowed to take men from here.  I’m going out some night this week and look over a couple of other jobs that are going on.  I don’t know if there is any chance of getting on or not.  All I can do is try.  That means I can’t tell you definitely whether I am going to have work or not but as I said in my letter Sunday, if it is possible and you haven’t any objections, I would like to go thru with it.  If you were down here, I would probably say it was better to wait.  In fact we would have to because we haven’t enough to try keeping house yet.  With a halfway decent break though, we ought to be able to manage it this fall.

Next Sunday is the picnic of the card club.  I guess they are going to meet at Joe’s.

I’m glad your Mother is still showing improvement.  I’ll bet she will show a lot more when Bill gets home.  I think I’ll personally wring his neck if he doesn’t come.

This is the last week of school here.  I’ll bet you sort of dread having the kids at home all the time, don’t you, hon?  LaVere is planning on going to Brooklyn for next week with one of his friends.  He’ll probably come back with a key to the city hall.

Well, sweetness, I can’t seem to think if much more so I think I’ll call it a day.

Yours forever, dear,

Dave

I guess I can use of some of this empty space to tell you again you are the dearest girl in the world and I love you more than words can tell.

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June 16, 1936

Adams Center, N.Y.

Hello Dear,

I have a few minutes before the bus comes to start answering your letter.  Mom is resting and Grace is down to Percy’s.

First of all, I received a letter from Bill saying he will not be home.  He says it would be impossible for him to finance the family unless he stays up there.  He knows I won’t leave Mom flat and is taking advantage of the fact.  Mom says if he would come home and be cross, she would much rather he wouldn’t come.  Maybe it is for the best that he doesn’t come home.  However, I shall never write and ask him to come again.

Mom tells me to go ahead with my plans and she will get along the best way she can with June and Billy.  As for her being left alone, I know that is out of the question and even if Bill had come home, I would expect to stay until she is able to do her work or at least until she had someone else here with her.  She says that I have done enough for her already.  No doubt if we should get married, Bill would think that was the reason I wanted him to come home.

Grace says if we should decide to get married and Lydia doesn’t want to come and stay so we can have one week together, that she will come up.

If my letter sounded as though I thought it wiser to wait to be married for a year or so, it wasn’t because I expected so much to start housekeeping with.  I think I told you some time ago that I was willing to start with just what is absolutely necessary.   If I didn’t, I meant to.  I don’t expect to have a whole house full of furniture but no matter how few things we have, I do wish we could be free from debts.  I know we can’t have as much as Lydia and Fran have, but I hope we may someday.  My one dream is to help make a place we can call home no matter how small it is.  My life wasn’t too pleasant last winter and from things you have said, I don’t think yours was.  So if we can make each other happy, which I know we can, that is what we should do.  I hope I haven’t appeared too demanding.  I certainly don’t want you to think I expect too much as I know you will do the best you can.  I am willing to make most any sacrifice if it means we can be together.

At times it seems just as though I couldn’t go another day without seeing you, dearest.  You mean so much to me and we have to be so far apart, but even if we were married, we couldn’t be together all of the time.  However, I am sure we would both be happier.

When I started this I thought of a lot of things to say, but since then Mom has had another spell of crying and there are so many people talking I can’t think of a thing.

I guess Grace is going home Thursday and I will be alone again.  Believe me, I dread being left alone.  Ethel says anytime I need her, she will leave the baby with Lois and come over for the day.

I guess they all are starting to realize what I am going through here.  The rest can come and stay a while and leave, but I have to stay all of the time.  I guess the general idea is if I want to get married, it is my business.  Harold says he doesn’t see why the sacrifice should be all on one side.

So if things go pretty good at home, if your job holds out, if you get a chance to get your tires and the ring, if the license and minister are to be had, if Lydia and Fran can come up and if something else doesn’t happen, there seems to be no reason why we shouldn’t go ahead with our plans for July 4^th.  I can’t think of any more “ifs” just now but there probably are plenty of them.  I think we will both be much more content when we are married and, as you say, we will make out somehow.  Even though things do seem hard at times we will always have our love and each other.  Maybe if we are married, I could squeeze out a week now and then this summer to spend with my precious boy.  This fall we can plan to get our furniture and start housekeeping.  When Lydia was up she said we could live in the other part of their house.  That would probably be enough room for us to start with.

Have you told your mother anything about our plans yet?  People will no doubt think we are crazy but we have our own lives to live so we should worry.

Janie just told me I looked worse than Mom.  I don’t think I look very fat just now.  When Mom gets on these spells of crying I feel so depressed I have to force myself to eat.

Mom says if I stay home this summer, Bill will have to pay me, but I assured her anything I did wasn’t for Bill, it was for her and the kids.

I know I can’t keep this up all summer unless I have a week off now and then.

I was so glad, darling, to receive such a nice long letter from you.  It helps a lot to hear how you feel about things and know something about your plans.  I have tried to write so you could know how I feel about it but I don’t imagine this makes much sense.  I know I haven’t succeeded in writing as nice a letter as you did, but that isn’t possible anyway.

Write again soon, darling, as I depend on your letters to keep me from feeling quite so blue and discouraged.

Be a good boy, dearest, and take good care of my boy for me.

I love you, my sweet.

Your forever,

“Me”

P.S.  Speaking of fires, this morning one of Percy’s brooder houses caught fire and Janie came for our fire extinguishers.  Harold and Grace went down and they took the three extinguishers to put it out.  It didn’t do much damage but if it hadn’t been for the extinguishers, they would have lost $150 worth of chickens or more.

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June 18, 1936

Middleburg, N.Y.

My Dear Girl,

Thanks or the swell letter, hon.  Don’t tell me you have forgotten how to write nice letters.

The rain finally came my way and I went to the city today, thereby eliminating a couple of your “ifs”.  I put new shoes on the horse in the rear.  Got them at Monkey Wards for $12.00.  They didn’t have any rings there under $1.50 so I got one at Woolworth’s.  Do you think it will look too dingy alongside the sparkler?  If it does, we will trade the other one in for a high chair and a half dozen diapers.  How’s that for an idea?

I also got some socks, work pants, necktie, house slippers, underwear and a pair of pajamas to keep you awake nights.

Gee, hon, if I keep on joking in this letter, you will think I am in pretty good spirits and don’t miss you.  I guess you know different though.  For a little miss you are the biggest miss I have ever had.  Can you figure that one out?  Maybe it is because I have the ring and I am one step nearer to making you my wife that makes me feel better.

They didn’t have a very large stock of rings to pick from today and I almost had to take what I could get.  I hope it comes somewhere near the other one.  It has three small diamonds each in a separate setting and not a channel setting like Lydia’s.  It is a lot smaller design than hers also.  She seems to like it so I have hopes that you may.  I also had it made into a 5 instead of a 4 ½ so you had better be careful about losing weight.

I expected to find out more about the job today but I didn’t work.  Even if I don’t continue with this work, I think I will be able to find enough to do.  It isn’t the summer that worries me so much.

Gee, darling, I was surprised to hear Bill isn’t coming home.  I could say plenty but maybe it is just as well if I don’t.  You can imagine what I think.  You have certainly got to get away from there once in a while this summer.  It hadn’t ought to be so hard to do that with your Mother getting better.

I went down to P.H. tonight to hear the big fight but rain postponed it until tomorrow night.  I suppose Harold will keep you well informed as to that though.  I think I’ll have the minister put something in the ceremony about making you let me listen to fights and ballgames.

Well, my sweet, it is getting late and every minute that goes by brings me that much closer to the one I love.  I think your lovely letter helped to put me in good spirits tonight.  You do manage to say some of the nicest things.  I only hope something happens, or doesn’t happen, I don’t know which it should be, to make it easier for you, dear.  Give your Mom my best wishes and remember, I love you, dear.

Ever yours,

Dave

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June 18, 1936

Adams Center, N.Y.

Dear Dave,

Once again I will try and write something.  I have plenty to write about but I will probably forget half of it before I get started.

Yesterday Mom thought she should go over to see the Dr.  We got over there and he was away.  We stopped at Kent’s and he went to Adams with us and introduced me to the new Dr.  I went in first and explained her condition as best as I could.  After he had given her a going over he told me to come back today and bring a specimen.  When I came out he said he would like to see me alone.  I went up today and he tells me that Mom has hardening of the arteries.  He says it has been coming on for years, evidently.  The arteries in the head and leading to the heart are in quite bad shape.  I wanted to know just what to expect so he tells me there is danger that she may dropout any time.  He has changed her medicine and says to avoid any excitement and not let her get tired.  He says there is a chance that she will be better in six months or a year but he doubts if she will ever be able to do any work.

Dr. Ralph has been telling us all of the time that there is no reason why she couldn’t do her own work.  What this Dr. says isn’t very encouraging but at least we know where we stand.

Grace went home this morning as they are moving on to a farm.  Dot has come over to spend the night and says she will stay with me nights until Lydia comes up.  Under the circumstances I don’t feel like staying alone nights.

Gee Honey boy, things don’t look very bright just at present but I think we had better be married anyway.  Maybe if you finish this job it would be wise for us to get married sooner than we had planned.  I think the less we say to Mom about it the better it will be.  It would be a big help to know that if I need you at any time, you would have a right to be with me.  Honey, you can’t imagine what a comfort it is to have you.  I’m awfully sorry that things have to be as they are at a time when we should be so happy.  It does make me happy to know that I have you.

Yesterday was the last day of school.  For my sake I am glad, but for Mom’s sake I am sorry.

Well, dearest, I must write some other letters before mail time.

I love you my sweet.

Yours,

Ruth

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June 20, 1936

Middleburg, N.Y.

My Darling,

I received your letter tonight, hon, and I don’t know what to say.  I don’t think I could feel any more concerned if it was my own mother, so there is no use of my making a lot of unnecessary remarks.  We must hope for the best and try to look on the bright side of everything.  I believe in facing facts but I also believe it helps to try and see the best of everything no matter how bad it is.  I know there isn’t much I can say in a letter to help you so I’m not going to try.  The only way I am any good at that is to have you in my arms.

You probably expected us all up tonight but we thought it best this way.  I offered to take Lydia up but Fran and I are both about tuckered out and it was so late we couldn’t have reached there much before morning.  It was 7:30 by the time I got to P.H. and she had already decided to take the bus.  If it had been possible, I would have taken Monday off, but it might have cost me my job if I had.  We moved to the new job today and the orders were that two men from this gang could stay.  The rest would have to be local help.  I was lucky enough to be one of the two to stay on and he is depending on me to be there Monday morning.

I’m also up a tree as to what to do about getting married.  I am ready and willing to go through with it immediately if it won’t be too much for your Mother.  I hate to leave it up to you because you have so much on your hands now, but you can tell better than I what effect it will have on her.  If you think it is alright and you can arrange to get away, how about making it next Sunday.  If we do it though, it would seem more practical to me to tell your Mother as much in advance as possible rather than wait and have it a surprise when it is over.  However, you know more about that than I do, also.  I could arrange to get the license.  It will probably take a lot of persuading to get Fran to do it though unless he finishes his job before then.

Now let me say something with just a ray of hope in it.  I have a 50-50 chance of getting a job for the winter right here in Livingstonville.  The man that owns the novelty shop here is thinking of enlarging his business this coming year and he will need a man to help turn out work on the lathe.  He has already spoken to one man and he has one or two more in view, so there is nothing sure about who he will pick.  The job is good for at least ten months of the year, September thru June, and the main qualification he wanted was to be sure the man he picked would be steady and not leave him after he has learned the work.  I told him I was planning on getting married so if I got it, I would be quite apt to hang on to it.  The pay isn’t much but I think we could get along on it for the first winter at least.  $15.00 a week is what he will give.

Of course this is all chance but the way he talked led me to believe I have a fair chance of getting it.

Well, darling, I guess I have said my say so I’ll sign off and wait for your reply.  I certainly want to be with you and want to marry you but I’ll abide by whatever you say.  If we are going to do it, we might as well stop thinking and go ahead.  Goodnight, my darling girl.

Love and kisses from your devoted

“Me”

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Footnote

1. On June 15, 1936, bonus checks were issued to World War veterans (now known as WWI). Ruth had trouble receiving her pay from Dr. Lally (one link provided though he is mentioned many times in her attempts to receive wages from him), who must have been a WW vet. The “bonus” checks came about as a result of a massive protest on Washington D.C. by the WWI veterans, led by Walter W. Waters, a former sergeant. During their service, front line soldiers were paid wages that were far lower than any other line of work in the military. Due to the ongoing economic depression, the vets had a hard time finding work, and they were desperate. The government had promised them a pension, starting in 1945, but they demanded back pay to begin immediately; money that was needed to pay off loans and to help support their families. A “bonus army” was founded, and they marched on Washington in 1932, where they had set up camps and occupied the city for weeks. A Bonus Bill had passed in the House of Representatives on June 15, 1932, but was defeated in the senate.

   After the defeat, President Hoover ordered all protesters to be evacuated. The US Army had intervened, teargassed and shot at the protesters, killing at least two people and injuring many others. They set fire to the encampment, destroying temporary and only homes that the vets had. It was this incident that may have contributed to Hoover’s loss to FDR in the 1932 presidential election. Roosevelt immediately signed an executive order allowing 25,000 veterans to be enrolled the CCC (bypassing the age and unmarried requirements). The Adjusted Compensation Payment Act was passed earlier in 1936, but vetoed by FDR. Fortunately, there was enough support in congress to override the veto, authorizing payment to veterans. This footnote here cannot do justice to this story. For a short documentary, follow the link here.