Ruth provides hospice care for her patient, Mr. Convery, up until his last moments. She is frustrated over having to provide housekeeping service for her landlady (Mrs. Herlihy) after working the night shift, and makes plans to visit Adams Center. Dave counts his chickens to sell, and encourages Ruth to not return to the Herlihy’s house after she comes back from visiting her family.
September 9, 1935
45 Brookline Avenue
Albany, N.Y.
Hello Davie,
How you all is? Lemme see, just about now you should be writing a letter to one Miss Parker in Albany, and since she sent you home early last night, it should be a nice long one. Somehow or other, I managed to get through the night last night. I guess I got about an hour of cat naps. We started giving him his Pantapon, which he had been taking per mouth, per hypo last night. It didn’t have much more effect on him than before. Tonight we have started giving morphine per hypo. He is much weaker today and has taken very little nourishment. This morning he developed a rattle, so I guess you know what that means. His heart is very good yet, so in spite of everything, he will probably last tonight and tomorrow and maybe longer. When it comes to the end, it is surprising what old people can go through. He had his hypo nearly an hour ago and he is still talking. He will probably get one every three hours all night. I should be an expert at giving hypos. I have had plenty of experience. He must be suffering terribly. He is in awful shape. I guess his heart is the only thing he has left.
Now to change the subject. Get ready to hear a little raving from yours truly. When I got up, Mrs. Herlihy started telling how tired she was and said she was surprised that I could get up at 2:30 yesterday afternoon when on any other afternoon I couldn’t get up until 5:30 and she wouldn’t think of asking me to get up. Maybe I didn’t see red for a few minutes. I told her I always went out on Sunday no matter what hours I worked, and if I didn’t go out at least once a week, I would go crazy. I was so darned mad, I didn’t dare say much for fear I would say too much. Besides, when I get good and mad I cry and I wasn’t feeling so good anyhow. I guess I hadn’t better write much more or you will come up and tell her where to go. I don’t know what the deuce she thinks I am. At best I never get more than five hours sleep in the day time. When I am here she doesn’t get up until 9:30 or 10:00 and takes a nap in the afternoon besides.
September 10th, 11:45 p.m.
Pardon the intermission. I am now at home in bed and everything is all over. Mr. Convery died at 1:10 a.m. and it is a relief to know his suffering is over. He was conscious right up to the last and hypos had no effect. I didn’t call the other nurse until after he was dead so she didn’t bother coming up. I had all the preparation to do myself. In as much as I wasn’t feeling so good myself and the son-in-law was more than willing to help, I asked him if he would do the lifting, so we got along very nicely. I sure was glad he was there. I guess I would have felt sort of strange among that bunch of Catholics if it hadn’t been for him. He is a protestant, too. I stayed until morning with Mrs. Convery in her room, but I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t curious this time about what the undertaker did. I guess I wasn’t in the mood or sompin’.
This morning I told Mrs. Herlihy I was going home the first of next week. I’m not going to kill myself between now and then either. I don’t give a darn whether she has a girl or not. If I leave her flat, it is no worse than she did by Lydia.
Well it is now 5 p.m. and I feel some better after my little snooze. However, if I don’t get downstairs and do something, I am going to lose my happy home.
I stopped to see Loretta this morning and she is going to Hewitt’s sometime soon.
I don’t know how I will plan to get the bus Monday morning if I leave here Sunday. I suppose you won’t be leaving the city much before 7:15 your time and that is when the bus leaves. I won’t feel like coming back here to stay for one night. I would like to see Lydia again before I go home.
I have to get up and get to work, so I’ll be signing off and I’ll try and let you know more about my plans.
I am glad last night is behind instead of ahead of me. Didn’t I tell you it would be just my luck to have it happen at night?
Be a good boy and don’t kill any more baby kittens, will you?
Did you get hurt when you lost your equilibrium Sunday? Honest, dear, I didn’t know you were going over. If Zelma hadn’t caught you in her arms, you would have been going yet. Gee, I bet you were thrilled.
Nuff sed.
“Me”
P.S. I just tried to read this and could especially the part written in bed. Sompin’ like a Chinese puzzle.
September 9, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Hello Dear,
How are you tonight? It seems to be my main thought. No kidding, dear, you’ve got me worried and that’s something I very seldom do, at least so other people can notice it. I wish you would either give up trying to work at Herlihy’s along with your nursing or at least take a vacation and get a good rest. You certainly need the rest. However, I suppose I shouldn’t be writing about this subject because I know how hard it is for you to decide what to do and what I say only recalls it to your mind and makes it worse. What I’d like to do is write a letter full of nothing but cheerfulness that would take you until next Sunday to read.
I guess I scared everyone nearly to death last night by arriving home at ten o’clock. When I got down as far as the reservoir I found that it hadn’t even rained a bit so the roads were dry most of the way home. It started raining here shortly after I got in bed though and it hasn’t stopped yet. Consequently, no work today. I fooled around most of the morning and did nothing but build a couple of feed hoppers and take Claude to Middleburg. A ball bearing in the front wheel of the Chevy broke so he had to go down and get a new set. This afternoon I cleaned a brooder house and then went to P.H. for a load of shavings. It was an off day at the station and Lydia and Fran were over to Salisbury’s playing pinochle. Lydia didn’t have my apple pie made and I had some fun with her telling her how I had come way down there especially to get it. Finally, Mrs. Salisbury felt sorry for me I guess and she brought me a piece of her pie so I didn’t lose out after all.
My right arm is quite lame up in the shoulder tonight. I think it came from getting wet today. Of course, I would have to mention it this afternoon and did I get kidded. They thought of plenty of things that could have caused it.
Now that I have met Zelma, I can’t say that she quite measures up to my expectations, I mean as to size. Of course I’ll admit she is big, but after all I had heard I expected to see a moving mountain. Rather like Niagara Falls. One hears and reads so much about them that when they really get to see them, they are almost a disappointment. No, I don’t think Zelma is half as bad as she is made out to be.
I did a little weeding out among my pullets today and picked out 100 that I want to keep for the winter. After disposing of the culls and broilers, my bookkeeping tells me that the 100 good pullets have cost me $.55/66 per bird at the age of twenty-two weeks. I’m no authority on the subject, but it seems to me that is a fairly low cost. At least I haven’t lost any money because I know I could sell them all tomorrow for $1.00 apiece if I wanted to. When I got them this spring I didn’t intend to keep any, but now that they have started to lay and they look so nice I hate to dispose of them. I still have about 130 of the younger ones to sell but they are only nine weeks old and are not quite heavy enough yet.
Well now would you look what I’ve gone and did. I forgot to stop at the bottom of that first page. Isn’t that just too bad.
I don’t know if I looked wrong or someone has been gypping paper on me. Anyway, I find I have only two more sheets left. Enough to write four more letters on. What say you?
Did you miss any of your buttons? I mean from your uniform. I found one in your car. I hope it isn’t a vital necessity to public decency that you have it because it is still out in the car so I’ll keep it until I see you.
How are you getting along with the patient? Gee, I hope you had a fairly easy night of it last night. Do try and get more sleep or at least rest if you can’t sleep. There I go, back on the old subject so I guess I had better close. Give me a great big credit mark for getting past the bottom of that first sheet, and be a good girl until I see you. That doesn’t mean for you to stop being good when I do see you.
Huey Long (1893-1935), U.S. Senator from Louisiana, 1932-35.
Good night, dear.
Dave
P.S. Someone is playing an organ solo on the radio. It is “On the Isle of Capri” and somehow or other it sounds beautiful to me. I wish you were here in my arms to listen to it.
P.S. #2. Did you say something in one of your letters about empty paper annoying me? Well, if this should annoy you, you can do the same, but I’m afraid if I don’t stop there won’t be any empty space. A bulletin just came in saying Huey Long is not doing so well after two blood transfusions. Somehow I can’t feel sorry for him. I never cared much for his talk or ideas.1
September 11, 1935
45 Brookline Avenue
Albany, N.Y.
Dear Dave,
It is now 4:30 and it is the first rest spell I have had since 7:15. I have had a swell headache along with a back ache all day. Mrs. H. went downtown this morning and didn’t get back until 2:00. She worked in the kitchen for an hour and is now resting on the front porch. She can sigh more about 15 minutes of work than any person I ever saw. Her sister and her husband are coming for dinner so probably when I finish work, I will be too tired to write much. There will be a stack of dishes a mile high and no help. She went out last night and Billy cried so I didn’t get to sleep until after 11:00.
I told her a few minutes ago I was going home Sunday and down to Lydia’s Friday night. She acted terribly surprised and injured. She told me she had a chance to go cruising Sunday and I suppose she thought I would offer to stay. She doesn’t seem to think I should have as much time off as Lydia used to get. I told her I felt like I was coming down with the grippe2 so maybe she won’t want me around the baby at least.
I sure was glad to get your nice long letter this morning. I also got one from Mom but I can’t say it made me feel very good. She wrote some rather bad news. I can’t tell you until I see you. It is a long story and you have to know it all before you understand. Not that it is anything you would be much interested in but you are so observing, you would guess something was wrong anyway. Maybe after I tell you, you won’t understand how I feel, but I know you will at least try. After getting that piece of news, I don’t know how much of a vacation I will have if I do go home.
I had planned to wait and go home Monday, but after thinking it over, I decided it would be much more convenient for you to bring me up Sunday. I don’t know yet if I can make connections from Syracuse to Adams on Sunday or not. Anyway, you can come and get me about 7:30 or 8:00 our time Friday night as I can’t stand this much longer.
Gee, dear, I bet you get tired of nothing but troubles in a letter, but it seems like that’s all I have lately. You probably have enough of your own to think about without being burdened with mine.
I was wondering if you found my button. Thanks for saving it. It so happened that it was only off my sleeve so it was o.k.
When you come up, ask Lydia for her suitcase. It seems as though every time I move I have more junk. I have just twice as many uniforms now as I had the last time I moved. I haven’t many clothes to wear, but when I come to move, I wonder how so much junk can accumulate.
8:30 p.m.
At last my work is done for the day. I am now listening to the Lady Esther serenade as usual. It sure is swell, l I like it better than any other music on the air. The present tune is “Just a Kiss in the Dark”.
I called the bus terminal and there are two buses out on Sunday, one at 7:45 and the other at 11:30. The last bus arrives in Syracuse at 4:50, leaves at 5:15 and arrives in Adams at 7:15. So I guess I will plan to take the last bus.
I was going to suggest that you bring Fran and Lydia up Friday night so we could go to a show together once again, but I happened to think that Frank is always up on Friday night.
So you got a little kidding about your lame arm. Looks like the B.F. has a little explaining to do. How about it, you might as well confess and get it over with. Where did you go after I went on duty? I certainly didn’t cause any lame arms last Sunday unless it was when I gave your chair a little kick.
You did very well and I was surprised to get that nice long letter. When I go home, I will have to have a lot of long letters. If I keep you busy writing letters, you won’t get into mischief. I’ll see that you won’t have the excuse of “no paper” for not writing. I still have oodles of that typewriter paper and I hate to write on it.
I have to write to Lydia and Mom yet tonight, so until Friday night I’ll be saying
Toodle-oo,
Ruth
September 11, 1935
Middleburg, N.Y.
Dear Ruthie,
At last, Wednesday night and your letters are here. I thought they would never come, probably because I was so anxious to hear how you were. After reading your letters I was quite relieved to find things looking a little better for you. Now at least you have something definite to look forward to and that’s a lot better than so much uncertainty. Now why don’t you get your things packed and let me bring them down to Lydia’s Sunday and not go back to Herlihy’s at all. If you do go back there, it will just be the same thing all over again when you get another case, and you might better leave while you are at least on halfway decent terms with her. Boy that sure was some crack she made to you. I can just imagine how you boiled and I don’t blame you a bit.
Yeah, you would have the luck to have the patient die while you were on duty. I’m glad you had some help but even with that it isn’t very pleasant.
Nothing very exciting has happened out here. Not even any more kittens to get rid of. I’m still anticipating the thrill I’ll get when I find myself the mother of five, fuzzy, wuzzy kitties. Won’t that be something.
Work is going on quite rapidly down at the camp, in fact all too quickly to suit me. Someone is liable to get laid off by the end of this and I’m hoping I won’t be one of the unlucky ones because according to my figures it will take about one more week of work to balance my budget for the month.
I may go down to Lydia’s tomorrow night. I have to go to Middleburg tomorrow night and if it isn’t too late when I get back, I’ll go down.
Seeing as how I overdid myself in that letter Monday night, I ought to cut this one short to make up for it. Do I get a vacation from letter writing while you are home or will you do better than when you were home last Christmas? Remember? I only got one letter and that didn’t arrive until after you did.
How’s about thinking over the idea of leaving Herlihy’s for good. You could go to Hewitt’s when you get back just as well as to wait for Loretta. No doubt she will make up her mind to go if you make a break and go there yourself. Anyway, I’ll be seeing you Sunday, dear, and here’s hoping you have it easy until then.
Dave
Footnotes
- A politician from Louisiana, Huey Long served as governor of the state from 1928-1932, and then as a US Senator from 1932 until his death on September 10, 1935. Known as the “Kingfish”, he was a left-wing populist. He was originally a supporter of FDR and of the New Deal, but then later became a vigorous opponent, arguing that the plan didn’t do enough to help Americans out of poverty and homelessness. He was in favor of guaranteed income, developed a “Share our Wealth” program, and favored federal spending on public works, education, and old age pensions. He had millions of followers, and had launched a presidential campaign to challenge FDR in the 1936 election. On September 8, 1935, Long was shot in the abdomen at close range in the Baton Rouge state capital building by Dr. Carl Weiss, a son-in-law of a judge, Benjamin Pavy, that he was trying to gerrymander out of a job. He died two days later. More about Long’s biography, history, and legacy can be found here and here. After his death, his widow, Rose McConnell Long (1892-1970) was appointed to his senate seat and won the special election to fill the seat on April 21, 1936. She served out the remainder of her late husband’s term, but declined to run for re-election. She was the third woman to ever serve as a U.S. Senator.
- “Grippe” is an old-fashioned term for the flu.