Ruth is now back in Albany in a new apartment with Loretta Sosville, waiting to hear whether she has any work. Dave, driving back from Albany in the middle of the night, has smashed his car. At the end of this post are letters from Lydia, Eva, and Hermann.
October 23, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruth,
Now that I have had a vacation from letter writing I have forgotten how. It’s much easier and nicer to get in the car and drive six miles to see you than to write letters. It was swell seeing so much of you for a while. It’s too bad we can’t be nearer each other all the time.
I must have driven quite slow coming home last night because I was informed this morning it was ten minutes of three when I got in. However, I guess I was lucky to get here at all. I didn’t get sleepy until I got in P.H. but from there on I just couldn’t keep my eyes open, and if you drive with your eyes shut, you know what happens. About a half mile below the house here I ran into the guard rails on the left side of the road and you can bet I woke up then. An inventory of the damage reveals two fenders badly bent and slightly ripped, both hub caps gone, spokes and hub of the front wheel bent and rear tire cut, to say nothing of two concrete posts broken. Not a bad job for an amateur fence crasher. There’s no use kicking because it is done and could have been lots worse. I’ll get it fixed up either tonight or tomorrow. What’s that saying of yours about trouble? Better say it once for me will you, dear.
It has been raining here most of the day so I didn’t accomplish much. Fran was out of bed this morning but he didn’t feel good enough to do any work. I was there about an hour waiting for him to make up his mind whether he would go to Cairo and see about that job or to Middleburg and see Frank. All he would say is, “I don’t know what to do,” so I came on home. He probably hasn’t decided yet if no one has told him what to do.
Fluffy seems to be quite contented here. In fact he made himself right to home and slept with LaVere last night. The box doesn’t seem to be good enough for him anymore. He/she has been outdoors all day when I was working and once even climbed up on the rafters where I was.
I hope you didn’t go back into that off mood or blue mood, whatever it was, after I left you last night. Keep your chin up, sweetheart, and maybe the sun will shine some day.
Guess I forgot to wish you luck in getting work but you know I do, dear. I don’t think you will mind staying in the city so much if you have work, but I know it is hard to hang around there and do nothing.
Don’t let Clifford look at you more than twice a day and not at all after six in the evening.
Good night, my dear. I’ll see you Sunday.
Love,
Dave
October 23, 1935
464 First Street
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
It seems sort of natural to be back in the city writing to you. Somehow or other this has been rather a gloomy day. I don’t know why I should feel so depressed, maybe it is just a hangover from last night.
We got up about 10:15 this morning and had breakfast about 11:00. We fooled around at the house for a while and finally came over to Johnsons (Loretta’s sister’s). We are still here.
I’m sort of glad it rained today ‘cause maybe you could get a little rest instead of working. I shouldn’t have kept you up so late last night but it seemed like an awfully long time until Sunday and then I am apt to be working.
Pardon the grease marks but I have been eating pie crust and a few crumbs strayed to the paper.
The arrangement at Hewitts is different than I thought. We pay $2.50 (each) a week for the room and $1.25 a month for the telephone and $.25 for our breakfast.1 The other meals we have to eat out. I guess it isn’t going to cost any more than it did before.
Someone says it is getting colder so me thinks you had better be sure and bring my winter coat and the hangers.
Gee, am I having a time trying to write this or am I. I write a few words and then talk and by the time I get around to writing again I have forgotten what I intended to say.
Have you seen Fran this week and how is he? I hope he and the baby get along nicely.
Speaking of babies, how is our baby doing? I bet just about now he is adjusting himself to a barn cat’s life. I hope your mother realized he wasn’t quite housebroke if she didn’t, she probably does by now.
Loretta and Cliff pulled a fast one on me last night. I won’t bother telling you about it until I see you. They thought it was cute but I didn’t see anything cute about it. You may be sure they will both be paid in full.
I guess I’ll end this jumble as you will have hard enough time doping it out now.
Love,
“Me”
October 24, 1935
464 First Street
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
Gee, Hon, I’m lonesome tonight. Loretta was called out this afternoon for 24 hour duty so that leaves me sort of lonesome. She is working at 11 Ten Eyck Avenue, that is the other half of the house where Conways live. The lady had a shock last winter and they have had a steady nurse so Loretta may be just one for relief. I sure hope I get called before tomorrow night so I can let you know what to do Sunday. I will have to stay in anyway. Hewitts go out on Sunday afternoon anyway and if they don’t, it doesn’t matter.
If you should come and there isn’t anyone at home, call 4-9936 and ask for Miss Sosville and maybe she will know where I am if she is still there. However, I don’t imagine there is any chance of me being out and if I am, Hewitts will probably be in at 1:30.
Friday 2:30 p.m.
While Cliff is taking a nap and the radio isn’t on full blast I’ll try my luck at answering your letter. Gee, I was awfully sorry to hear about you going to sleep the other night. I guess you have me alone to thank for it. It is a shame it had to happen but as you say, it could have been much worse. I’m thankful nothing happened to you. As much as I like to see you, I would much rather go without seeing you than take a chance on you getting hurt. I wish we didn’t have to be so far apart but I guess we can’t do much about it unless you move nearer Albany or move Albany nearer you.
Seems like another two days of this doing nothing will drive me crazy. You can’t imagine how it is when I want to work so much. Yesterday I embroidered most all day and today I haven’t done much of anything but mend. I have mended six pairs of white stockings and when I do that you can make up your mind that I am badly in need of something to do.
Clifford called me at 10:00 this morning and said “Stupid” wanted to talk with me so I had to get up. She didn’t tell me much about the case, she only wanted me to call Ed this afternoon for her. Gee, wouldn’t it be terrible if I had to go out with him tonight. Oh heck! I nearly forgot I’m on register aren’t I.
Jane and Ralph were up for a little while last night. Jane is just as scatter brained as ever.
I have to manage to go get my dinner while Clifford is in the house to answer the telephone should anyone call. He has a system by which he says he can keep the telephone from ringing.
It sure is tough sitting around doing nothing when there are so many things I would like to be doing.
Major Bowes Amateurs are on at the Palace this week.2 I think they started last night. I can’t go now and if I get work, it will probably be night duty so I can’t go anyway.
So Fluffy has taken the place over. I hope “it” (he or she) doesn’t forget and try climbing someone’s leg. You already have at least three pair of stockings to pay for.
I wrote to Lydia last night and walked about twenty blocks trying to find a mailbox. I gave her a long list of things to send up by you so don’t forget to stop. I think by the feeling outside we will soon have snow so you had better bring my overshoes, too. It was so cold last night I thought my ears would freeze.
Any time your Ford isn’t in condition to drive, you can try your luck with mine. Will you ask Fran to put some water in the battery.
I called Zelma yesterday and she said she had commenced to think something had happened to me. I asked her to come over but she had other plans.
I won’t send this until I go out for dinner. Maybe by that time I will have something definite to tell you.
If I’m not working, I will be anxiously awaiting your arrival Sunday, not that I won’t be just as anxious to see you if I am working.
Love,
Ruth
P.S. Well, my darling, I am all set to go out for dinner and as yet there are no new developments so there is nothing to do but follow instructions.
You can tell Lyd I would like my linen blouse, also.
So long until Sunday, my love.
“Me”
[No date—maybe October 26, 1935]
Saturday nite 8:45
Preston Hollow
Dear Ruth,
I suppose you will say same old Lydia and same old trick—but better this way than not to write.
Fran has gone to Middleburgh after some sugar and a haircut so we can go out Halloween.
I guess Dave and Fran are working in Cairo for two or three weeks—I see where Lydia will have to get up in the morning.
I wrote home this week. Haven’t heard from Florence but heard from Sadie. She said Jack’s car wasn’t working so good and it was too far to come.
Francis’ Mother is coming up tomorrow for dinner and we got a couple of chickens from David. David had a pretty close call, didn’t he? You had better send him home early if you want to have him alive, especially while he is working in Cairo—if they go. We had a flat last nite on our way to Cairo. Dave and I sit in the car and watch the doings inside while Fran talked business.
Now I suppose you will say David is a good boy because he gave the kitten a bath and his brother takes him to bed. You have them trained pretty good. Poor Pete dirtied the spread again. In the daytime he had a coughing spell so now I put his box in the kitchen and he has that instead of the beds.
If that Victrola or whatever it is maybe isn’t too big, bring it down and we will listen to them before we give it to Winnie. Tex is waiting for Howard to come and they are going to a dance.
Are you eating out? Be sure you get enough. Have you heard from any of the girls, I mean the nurses?
Fran still has his cold and he is about dead. He says the late hours get him—getting old I suppose. Guess you and Tex were too much for his nerves. Yes, we have decided to name the boy David Francis—pretty good. Don’t go and eat any wop food with David because if he hears them talking all day, that’s enough.
You can tell Eva when you write—I wrote her last—what’s the trick dog?
Winnie is as crazy as ever. Charles the same. Gets on Tex’s nerves.
Mary and I went to Catskill in her boat today. Got my husband a pair of carpenter overalls, white, with 100 pockets in it.
He is going to take the radio to Cairo someday.
Tell Zelma not to bother about the silver, but she can get the table spread.
Your radio is good for a change tonite. Had a lot of fun playing around with it. Probably David will tell you about it.
Be good. Send David home at twelve or before. Don’t get lonesome. No doubt by Sunday you will have work. The Shell program is on so will have to close and listen, hope my husband didn’t stay late. Should have told D.M.O. to stay.
Love,
Lyd
Florence’s address:
10 Seventh Avenue
N. Troy, N.Y.
[Included with Lydia’s letter]:
Dear Lydia,
Am writing in answer to your letter.
Love,
Eva
Dear Lydia:
Will you please give enclosed Certificate of Warranty to Ruth. Thank you.
How’s the family and how is business?
Do they raise trick dogs down there?
Hermann
Footnotes
- $2.50 in 1935 is now worth about $45.00. With two or three people paying that each, that’s about $400-450 total rent per month – a pretty good deal by today’s standards! Though it’s not clear whether this included a private bathroom. Most of the dwellings in Albany that Ruth occupied seem to have been for the room to sleep only, and in some cases she had to help with the housekeeping and babysitting.
- The Major Bowes Amateur Hour was a popular radio show broadcast from NY City, hosted by Edward Bowes (1874-1946). Some features of his show included a gong as a way to stop performances that he felt needed to end, though this practice was later stopped after complaints from fans. Ruth may have been referring to a short documentary film, “Major Bowes Amateur Theater of the Air” that featured a young Frank Sinatra and other amateur singers.
1 thought on “Oct 23-26, 1935”