I Remember This Time Last Night
My last post was a “guest” blog written by my mom to my dad the night after he left for Virginia. In the spirit of “equal time,” today’s guest blogger is my dad. What follows are clips from three of his letters to mom—the first one written at the Richmond, VA, train station; the second one written when he arrived at his new home-away-from-home; the third one written after he received Mom’s first letter to him.
I deleted detailed descriptions of his accommodations and his first meetings with his new academic advisers for his doctorate degree—the “report” my mom requested. What remains is further testament to my parents endearing love for each other.
Richmond, Va.
Sept. 13, 1949
Dear Juanita,
I hope you and “Junior” got home and to bed without any trouble last night.
I had a nice ride upon the Silver Comet. I had a double seat for my pillow, blanket, and myself. There wasn’t much noise in the car so I rested well and slept a large part of the time. The blanket came in handy about two a.m.
It is now 8:30 a.m. I am in the train station sitting on a bench using a newspaper to write on. The train arrived here about 7:30. I’ve already had a good breakfast and taken care of the usual after-breakfast routines. My train for Charlottesville leaves at 11:45.
I hope you and Mama will get some good rest the next few days before trying to organize the rest of our belongings.
So far I haven’t thought of a thing I left which I meant to bring. That just goes to show what a good packer you are. Since you are such a good packer I’m seriously considering coming to see you Thanksgiving—I don’t know where else I might be able to get that good packing service when I get ready to return to Charlottesville, do you?
I surely was proud of you at the train station last night. Of course I hated to leave, but it was nice to know you were in such good hands. Try not to work too hard or too long and I feel sure things will work out well.
I’ll make it a point to write you again before going to bed tonight. In the meantime I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you soon.
I love you,
Jere
♥ ♥ ♥
Charlottesville
8:23 p.m.
Wed. Sept. 13, 1949
Dear Juanita,
I remember this time last night. We were just before leaving the swing to get in the truck to go to the train station.
You can say you almost got a phone call tonight. I just decided down town a few minutes ago not to in order to save the money. But I was strictly in the mood to call you late this afternoon before the night rates went into effect.
I had a pretty nice trip on the train but after I got here and started to unpack, my spirits weren’t too high. I thought I might not be able to finish packing before late tonight, but mainly I was lonesome. As time when on things shaped up better and by the time I got everything put away and the bed made up, I had a much more optimistic outlook. Of course another big reason for considering calling you was to see how you and “that boy” of ours are getting on.
When I went down town to eat supper I found that it costs only $1.25 to call person to person at night. But by then I was feeling pretty well so I decided I’d better save that money.
Including my R.R. ticket, freight charges, eating, locking bags in Richmond, etc., it cost $25.27 to get me here. That also included $2 for getting my trunk delivered. It was too big for a taxi.
I’ve just gotten my shower. The shower and telling my troubles to you have made me feel like going to bed and falling asleep. I hope you sleep really well.
Your picture surely does become this room. It is by far the nicest thing in it. I got it out as soon as I could this afternoon.
Good night, sweetheart!
I love you,
Jere
P.S. Wed. a.m.
I got up at 7 this a.m. and am feeling fine. I slept like a log last night.
JWC
♥ ♥ ♥
Wednesday
Sept. 14, 1949
Dearest Nita,
I was so glad to get your letter this afternoon. It was nice to know that you and “Junior” were doing well and that you were thinking of me.
Tell Mama I couldn’t afford to kiss her at the train station because my wife and her husband were looking!
Please let me know when my letters arrive—that is, which seem to go quicker, airmail or the other. I will probably send the next one on a 3¢ stamp.
It’s already 10:40 p.m. Time just seems to slip by when I’m chatting with you even if it is by way of mail. I guess it’s because I enjoy it so much. I just trust that you don’t mind reading all this “bull.” I’ve got to get my shower and get to bed.
One thing my coming up here has done is to make me realize even more than before how much I love you and how much you and the thoughts of “Junior” mean to me.
Goodnight, Sweetheart!
I love you,
Jere
© Melissa Clark Vickers 2014
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