Dave has returned from a visit to Adams Center. He is heart-broken that Ruth will be there indefinitely to care for her mother, but also thinks she is doing the right thing.
May 4, 1936
Adams Center, N.Y.
Hello Honey Boy,
I have been wondering ever since you left me how you got home. I bet my boy was awfully tired, wasn’t he? I’m sorry you had to make the trip back without more rest.
There isn’t much to write about that has happened since you left. I guess we went to bed about ten o’clock and all evening I kept wondering where you were. I was so tired when I did go to bed that I fell asleep quick.
I got up quite early this morning. I washed all of the kitchen woodwork and the curtains. I also have the windows washed. Tomorrow I have to wash the kitchen furniture and floor and iron the curtains. There is plenty of work to keep me busy for a while yet. It is quite evident that Mom hasn’t been feeling well as I never saw the house in such shape before in my life. However, I am glad there is something to keep me busy so I won’t feel so sorry for myself because I have to be away from you.
I guess if Mom feels better we are going to have some papering done downstairs. I will see that Mom doesn’t do much work.
Everybody seems quite relieved that I am here with her. Janie says she thinks with me here Mom will soon be back to normal. She is rather nervous and as you already know, she has had plenty to upset her lately. I think everything combined is the cause of her high blood pressure.
Tuesday morning
I had about forty interruptions last night so as a result this didn’t get finished.
Yesterday morning I went down to the barn to see all of the animals and I also went to see Beulah. Yesterday afternoon we went down to Janie’s for a while.
I thought we would go up to Gouverneur sometime this week and Mom said something about going to Syracuse this weekend but I have decided to stay at home at least until Mom feels a little better. Some day this week we are going over to see the doctor. I am in hopes he will say she is better.
I think financially I will be just as far ahead by coming home. I know we will have a clearer conscience.
Friday night Joyce is having the young people’s meeting here, which of course means more excitement for Mom.1 I have to work like the deuce to get the house so it won’t look too bad. You can tell Lydia when you see her that I worked yesterday and I bet I’ll get my house cleaning done now before she does.
My cold seems to be with me yet but I guess it is a little better. I’m not quite as hoarse as I was Sunday, much to the kids’ disappointment.
Miss Kellogg hasn’t taken Donald yet and if she takes him the same way she does everything else, he will still be here a month from now.2
I have long since had breakfast but I’m not dressed yet. I suppose I had better get myself broken of the pajama and bathrobe habit.
Write me all the news and let me know how you and Fluff get along without me. Don’t work too hard, dear, and take good care of yourself.
Lots of love,
Ruth
May 4, 1936
Middleburg, N.Y.
My Darling Girl,
I suppose you are anxious to hear if we got home safe so I won’t waste any time in letting you know.
We made pretty good time coming back and it was 10:45 when we got to my house. I drove down to Herkimer and Fran took over from there. We stopped there and got some choco-pops. They proved to be just an appetizer so we had to stop in Little Falls and get more. I pulled one boner on the way down. Took the wrong road out of Barnes Corners, I think it was, and went about five miles out of our way.
I had to get up earlier than usual this morning to help my father catch and weigh about forty hens he sold. However, I did get a break because I had it very easy today. I guess it is the first easy day I have seen on this job. Anyway, I’m glad it came today.
Jennie, Ruth and Dave, 1936. “I think your Mother is going to approve of me as a son-in-law ” – Dave Coffin, May 4, 1936
I’m stumped for words, honey. I just don’t know what to say. You know how I feel and it is useless to try and write about it. Before you went I didn’t really think you would stay all summer so it hit me a lot harder when I found out that that is what is expected of you. It is more than half a year before Bill will be home and even knowing that I will see you once in a while during that time can’t cover up that fact. I know it is awfully selfish of me to talk and feel the way I do but I love you just as much as your Mother does. I didn’t mean to break down the way I did, but I just lost all control when I was alone with you. I had a nice time all the while I was there except for the last couple of hours and that was pretty tough. Every time I started to sing the tears would start to come and I would have to quit. You didn’t know I was such a baby did you? In fact I didn’t know it myself but I never felt so about leaving anyone in my life, not even your own Mother, and I guess I love her as much as anyone loves their mother.
I think your Mother is going to approve of me as a son-in-law and that helps a lot. I was quite surprised when she kissed me but I also felt quite pleased about it. You have a wonderful Mother, darling, and neither of us will ever regret what you are doing for her no matter how much it hurts us now. All that I ask is for you to come back when you feel that everything is all right and you can do so without hurting her too much.
I’m going to bed now, darling, before I have another spell. I have been over an hour writing this much.
I love you truly, dearest of all girls in the world.
Goodnight,
“Me”
May 6, 1936
Adams Center, N.Y.
Hello My Sweet,
It was nice to receive your letter today but I bet you were a pretty tired boy when you wrote it. I’m glad you had a good trip back and got home as early as you did.
We went to see the doctor today. He says her blood pressure was down to 230. It was 260 before and that is as high as the thing registers. Her blood pressure is about 70 points too high yet. She is awfully nervous and goes all to pieces over little things. This morning she was writing to Bill and couldn’t think what to say and all of a sudden she started to cry. She never was nervous before, she could always stand more excitement than I.
The doctor wants her to get lots of rest, go easy on the work and avoid all excitement and worry. I try to make her take a rest every day and not do any work. She is afraid I’ll work too hard and get sick.
Mom is apparently in good health so I don’t believe the rest of the family realizes just how serious her condition is. Anyone has to be with her all of the time to know. I think Percy and Janie realize that she is in bad shape. They have been very good to her and seem quite concerned.
I have written to both Eva and Grace and told them if they come home, not to bring any children as Mom can hardly stand the kids here at home.
Thursday morning
Now that the kids have departed for school, I’ll see if I can get this finished before the mailman comes.
We have to go to Watertown and get some things for Joyce’s meeting. There is an awful lot of work to be done before tomorrow night. I guess we are going to get a woman to come in and help me this afternoon. Janie said the way both Mom and I have been feeling, she thought I should call Mr. Cash and tell him we couldn’t have it. I think Harold thinks I am a boss now. He keeps his kids at home pretty good. I hope after this time Joyce can entertain in her own home.
Well, my darling boy, I think I will close and I’ll try and write you a nice long letter Sunday. After all Sunday does belong to you, doesn’t it?
Oodles of love to my Honey,
Ruth
May 6, 1936
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dearest Ruthie,
I received your letter today. I don’t know if I felt better after reading it or not. I’m afraid you are going to pitch right in and do too much work at once then you will be sick. Why not take it a little easy, dear. You have plenty of time to do it in.
I haven’t been to P.H. yet so I don’t know if there are any new developments there or not. I kind of hate to go down there because it reminds me so much of you.
I’m still working and feel pretty tired tonight. I’m going to bed as soon as I finish this. Outside of working I guess I have spent most of my time driving the car. Last night I had to go to M. and get LaVere. After supper Claude came up and I had to take him to M. and then home. Tonight I had to go after LaVere again and after supper I was scheduled to go to Crystal Lake, but Ward and Lena came up so that is postponed until tomorrow night. Claude took the car today and went to Schoharie today after his car plates (thank heaven). Friday night is the spring concert at school and I will have to go to that, and Saturday night I’ll have to go down again for groceries, so you see how it goes. I suppose I shouldn’t kick but still it is quite a drain on the pocketbook.
Howard and Emma and his sister and her husband were here Sunday. His sister liked Fluffy so much she pretty near took her home. She says if I can get another kitten like it, to do it, so there is a home for one of Percy’s expected kittens.
I looked all over for a card to send your Mother for Mother’s Day but couldn’t find anything that was suitable for one in my position to send. I wanted to send her something though, so I picked the nearest thing I could get and I’ll leave it to you to see that she takes the right meaning from it, providing I don’t change my mind about sending it.
Do my letters reach you the day after they are mailed? I hope so because I have to write them the day before sending and if they don’t, they will be quite stale by the time you get them.
Fluffy is still as clean as when you last saw her. Maybe she has decided to stay clean for a while.
Let me know how your Mom gets along and how you are yourself, dearest. I think of you all the time and wonder when we will be together again. I can hardly believe it has only been three days since I saw you. I don’t know what it will seem like in three weeks.
I wish I could whisper in your ear, “I love you, dear”.
Goodnight darling,
“Me”
(To Ruth P. from Ruth S.)
May 9, 1936
Henderson, N.Y.
Dear Old Prof,
The Citizen Advertiser, Auburn NY, June 5, 1967
Your sister-in-law (Glenn’s wife) told me the other day that you were home.
I’m dying to see you, but probably you’ll be going back tomorrow.
Dad’s doing all his work alone this week so he can’t find the time to bring me over. (Fate is agin me!)
Gee, Issie is always asking about you. She has a shop by herself in the Flower bed.
What’s this I hear about you? Gee, what’s his name? Albany must be what I need, ‘cause I heard he’s smooth. Anyway, if I’m rushing the “Many Happy Returns”, just store ‘em up.
But no kidding, Ruthie, we all love you and want to hear from you. So how’s about it?
If you can find the time, can’t you come over? Aw, come on.
I must close now and help Mom.
Lots of Love,
Ruth S.3
May 9, 1936
Middleburg, N.Y.
My Darling,
Saturday night. I have been lying in bed for some time and couldn’t get to sleep so I thought I would try writing part of this letter to you. I hope you can make out the writing. I’m not in a position to use Palmer Method, as if I ever did.
This room is like a dungeon it is so hot. Maybe that is why I can’t sleep. It has been above 90 degrees here for the last two days and I’m just about done up when I get home from work.
Last night I went to the concert at school. It was pretty good. I thought when they had the last one I would like to take you to the next one, but it came a week too late.
I’m glad your Mother is showing a little improvement, dear. I think with you there to look after her she will soon be well. However, by that time you will be sick yourself if you don’t slow down a little. Remember your promise that you would take care of you for me. You mean so much to me, hon. Please be careful. It is bad enough to have you so far away without you being sick, too. Maybe I’m an old granny or something but it is because I love you so much. I would rather have you and not a cent than to be a millionaire without you. For a good many years I wondered how I would know it if I really fell in love, and now that I have I still can’t tell how I know, unless it is because you are in my thoughts constantly and when I’m not with you, life is just a dull monotony. Every night when I come home, I can’t help but think how I would like to be coming home to you in a place we could call our own. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I was halfway contented here, but I’ve never been very much in love with my home. I guess that is why I am so quiet around here. Some days go by and I’ll bet I don’t say a dozen words.
I didn’t mean to write all this stuff when I started, dear, but my thoughts ran away with me. I’ll sign off now before it goes any farther and see what I can do about getting some sleep. It must be quite late. I wish my imagination was a little better. I would picture you here in my arms, then I know I could sleep.
8 P.M. Sunday.
Well, honey, this day is nearly gone and I’ll wind it up by finishing this letter to you. I guess I don’t need to tell you how much I missed seeing you today even though I have been busy all day.
This morning my father and I plowed the berries. Had dinner about two o’clock and then went up to the garage. I had the shimmy in the front wheels fixed and the windshield wiper also. I got home about 5:30 and there was no one home so I did the chores and then tightened up the brakes on Lizzie. I got thru first dark so you see how busy I have been. Even that wasn’t enough to keep me from thinking about you most of the day though.
I’m glad you could be with your Mother today. Did you go to church? I had intentions of going tonight but it was so late when I got thru and Mom had gone with Lula, so I didn’t go.
I didn’t send the card to your Mom either. I guess I changed my mind about it a dozen times, and I don’t know yet if I should have sent it or not. It wasn’t just the right kind of card and I thought it might seem as if I was too sentimental or rushing things too much.
Pardon me if I seem crazy but I’m all mixed up about everything and I can’t seem to put my thoughts on paper and make them sound the way they really are.
I went down to P.H. last Thursday evening and stayed about an hour. Fran found out that he is only getting $60.50 per month and can’t get any more.4 He went down to see Wiltsie about the hen house when he found that out but he was too late. I guess he was supposed to have let him know by last Saturday or Sunday and when he didn’t, Wiltsie got someone else. Last night he was supposed to go to Delmar and see about another job and from there to Albany to meet Tex at nine o’clock. They were going to stay in M. all night and for dinner today. I don’t know if they did all this or not because they haven’t stopped here. Tex made the aviation class. Thirty-two out of a thousand were picked and he was one. I think he goes to Norfolk, Virginia, for four month’s training.
Mom has been painting and papering the living room this week so it looks fairly decent in here again. The paper is so light colored alongside of the other that when I came in and saw it the first night I thought it was the bare walls where the old paper was torn off, and I was even dumb enough to remark about it.
Gee, hon, I wish I knew what the future holds for us. Maybe I’m nearsighted but I can’t see anything ahead. At one time I thought maybe Fran and I would be able to start something but he has lost all enthusiasm for that and with nothing to start on, I can’t go into it alone. I get sick of thinking about it and I feel like a slacker for not doing something besides thinking. Everyone I know seems to find a way to get married and I suppose we will if I don’t go crazy before the time comes.
Well, darling, I guess I have done enough rambling for this time so I’ll quit and get this in an envelope before I tear it all up.
I’ll be waiting anxiously for that nice, long letter you are going to write today, dear. It will seem ages until I get home Tuesday night to read it. I have read the last one three times already.
Love and kisses,
Dave
P.S. I love you truly, my precious. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.
Footnotes
- Joyce was Harold and Beulah Parker’s daughter. More about her (and photo) is detailed in this post, here.
- Donald was a foster child staying with the Sedgemores. At this time, we still have not identified this child nor how he came to be on the farm. He was first mentioned here.
- Based on census records, we guess that Ruth S. is Ruth Springsteen (1914-1967) of Henderson, NY. She was the daughter of Nelson and Maude Springsteen (married in 1900), and had six other brothers and sisters, Olive, Frank, Edna, Lynn (a brother), June, and Jack (as of 1920). Her father was listed as a dairy farmer. She and Ruth likely knew each other from school, although Ruth S. was a little younger. Her obituary is included here in this post. Ruth married her first husband, Carlton Sprague (1913-1962), in 1939. His relation to Francis Sprague (b. 1908 to Harry W. Sprague and Kathryn Yanson) is unknown, but he could have been a distant cousin. Ruth was remarried to Ronald Batson at the time she died in 1967 at the age of 52. Her mother Maude died in 1973 at the age of 95.
- This is worth approximately $1100 in 2020, below poverty level.