FROM HATTIE SMITH DIARY, 1905, Transcribed by Jeanne Wallendal Jessie; A PRELUDE to: VALTON, WI, the love story of MAMIE HARVEY - from CHELSEY DRYSDALE, the Grammar NAZI, Culver City, CA - SOURCE: http://facebanned.blogspot.com/2009/12/armistice.html
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Thursday, March 2, Rom. 7:23
Warm and grey. I went to V. and got a letter from Cassie. Mamie Harvey came home with me and
stayed till eve and I took her home. Dear child wanted to stay all night and I wanted her to but was
afraid Mary would worry. I like her so much.
Thursday, March 9, I Tim. 6:8
Nice day. Froze up at eve. Dear little Mamie came up and stayed all day with me. How I love her. I
took her home this eve and ran over to Henry‘s a few minutes
Sunday, March 26, John 3:16
This morning about 3 o‘clock Horace brought Mamie up to Lennie and me so we knew the case was on.
I got up about 6 and brought Mamie up and after I got my work done took Mamie to Susie‘s and went
down to help with the work. Pretty soon a little daughter arrived and yelled lustily. Aunt Malinda and
Dr. Fowler were there. Teed came after the thing was done. Horace kept up a lot of nonsense. I stayed
till after dark
Saturday, April 1, 1905, Luke 5:32
Nice day. I did up my work and went to V. in pm. Got Mamie 3в worth of candy. She came up home
with me and stayed all night. Mr. Horton gave me a lot of old newspapers and said I could have all I
wanted any time.
Tuesday, April 11, Ps. 19:14
Beautiful day. I ran over to Valton this pm then brought Mamie up home with me. Men here working.
Wednesday, April 12, Luke 5:31, 33
Mostly cloudy and very windy and cool. I mopped and did my other work. Mamie and I went up to see
the basement this pm then I took her home and she cried so to come back. Dear child. Wrote to Mary
and Net last night and sent it this morn. Net said in her letter she would start up to Mary‘s this eve. I‘m
glad as I was afraid she‘d not go and Mary might die for want of care.
Sunday, April 30, Ps. 106:1
Nice cool day. Lennie and I went down and I got Mamie ready for S.S., and she and Horace and Calie
and Lennie and I went to S.S. then during church Lennie, Horace, Mamie and I went up to the cemetery
and took a long ramble among the brambles then came down and visited with Nate and Frank and Jim
till church was out. Then I went over to Nate‘s, rode in Jim‘s new buggy with him and Ida. Sam and
Annie and the 2 little girls came and we had quite a visit especially after they got to running on me about fellows. Had some apples. Good. Nora Canon came to Ida‘s so I rode home with her and she got
Lennie and Mamie and brought us all up home here. Arrived just as Pat did so we said Howdido or
something. Everything looked so pretty and clean and green as we rode home. So beautiful.
Sunday, May 21, John 3:16
Nice day. Lennie and I went to S.S. and when I came back Mary, Mamie, and Zella came up. Also
Horace and had dinner and quite a visit. We all went up to the barn. I got a letter from Mary this morn.
I enjoyed Mary‘s and children‘s visit today.
Tuesday, May 30, Luke 7:50
Decoration Day and Valton celebrated. I wanted to go but couldn‘t as I had a lot of baking to do. I ran
over to Allie‘s this eve and got my goods I left there last winter. Mamie is 6 years old today. Nice day.
Dan went to Nate‘s today.
Sunday, June 4, John 3:16
Warm. Dan came home last night and he and I went to the Children‘s Day Exercises. I went with
Horace‘s and took care of Mamie during meeting. House was full. Dan and I stayed for dinner at
Horace‘s then blabbed till 5 pm, mostly about the coming excursion to Madison. I ans. Mary and Nets
letter and had gone to bed and it was just pouring rain when Frank Shore and Nora Canon brought Mae
Hanzlik so she is here and I‘m glad of it
Saturday, July 29, Matt. 5:4
Rainy looking in am. So Jim didn‘t come today. I went down to Horace‘s and got Mamie to come
home with me and we had a big visit. Zella is such a very sweet pretty baby.
Sunday, July 30, Luke 11:9
Bright and somewhat warm. Mamie and I went to S.S. she is such a dear child. I came home and did up
my dishes and cans and wrote to Nettie & Cuz. Jennie.
Wednesday, August 16, Deut. 32:31
Nice day. I‘m 34 years old today. I went to Valton this pm and Dell and Winnie Carpenter hammered
me then Horace, Lennie, and Mamie finished the job when I stopped there. Got my Y.C. After supper I
ran down and helped Lennie with her dishes, then she came home and stayed all night with me and we
nearly exploded laughing at a little piece in the Y.C. about a —Tombd Cat“ of the —Torture“ shell variety.
Wednesday, August 30, John 3:16
Nice day. I went to Valton this pm and sent a letter to Mrs. Parish and one to the Y.C. for a book —The
Teachers‘ Problem“, 9в. Horace and Mary came back from Eds and I went down with them to help
carry the things. They caught a ride out. Mary and baby rode to Noah‘s corner with Frank Goodman
and Horace and Mamie rode to Bond‘s with Mr. Bond. Glad to see them back.
Sunday, September 10, Ps. 34:18
Nice day, warm. Lennie and I went to Sun. S. and Friend‘s Church, then stopped and visited Allie G. a
spell. Then she and Bernice Smith, Lennie and Mamie came up with me and then I went back to
Horace‘s with them. Mabel and Fred invited me home with them, but I tho‘t I‘d better not go.
Wednesday, September 13, Eph. 2:8
Beautiful day. I didgged all day. Ran down in eve and got Y.C. Mamie and Bernice came up a while in
pm.
Monday, October 2, Matt. 7:7
Lovely day. R. F. D. past here for the first. I went to V. this pm and got stamps 29в, buttons 12в, pens
5в. Sent May and Smith some S.S. papers. Mamie came home with me. I visited the Valton school this
pm.
Tuesday, October 3, Ps. 23
Nice day. Took Mamie home this morn and stayed quite a while. Canned some apples. Ran down
again this eve. No Mail. Wrote to Cuz Jennie. They got a nice letter from Calie. He is doing fine.
Sunday, November 12, Golden Text for today.
Beautiful day, warm and pleasant. Lennie and I went to S.S. and Friend‘s Church. I came over and
stopped at Susie‘s a while. Ran down to Horace‘s in the eve. I shall hate to see them go away. Dear
little Mamie is so sweet. I can‘t think of parting with her.
Wednesday, November 22, John 3:16
Lovely day. Tillie stayed till pm. Horace‘s went to Wonewoc and Mamie came up and stayed with me.
She is such a dear child. I went down to Horace‘s when they came home and spent the eve. Got Ladies‘
Home Journal, Y.C. and a sample of —Tales.“ Wish I could go to Zion.
Friday December 15, John 8:10-11
A lovely day and eve. I hopped around and got ready for the Basket Supper and went down and went
with Lennie. Horace and Mamie went and Mamie was my little girl during the entertainment and
supper. The entertainment was good, especially the drill by the little kids and the song —Just Break the
News to Mother“, The Eclipse of the Sun“ and the Tableau Rock of Ages. The Glee Club‘s tack song
was good. Bernie Carpenter got my Basket..
Sunday, December 17, Isa. 53:1-7
Nice day. I stated to S.S. but stopped at Horace‘s and helped with the work. Mamie came home with
me and stayed all night. I wrote to Lestie this eve. Mamie kissed me a lot of times. Dear little child,
how I love her.
Monday, December 18, Isa. 55:7
Cloudy but nice. I took Mamie home this morn and digged the rest of the day. Pumped 18 pails of
water to wash with. Ran down this eve but no mail. Wrote to Mrs. Rachel Thomas, Zion City.
Thursday, December 21, Ps. 119:133
Big snow storm all day and part of last night. I dressed a doll for dear little Mamie. It is real pretty.
Made a pretty hair bow for Lennie. Wish I could do just as I‘d love to at Christmas.
Friday, December 22, Ps. 51:12
Grey. Folks out with bobs. I rode down to Horace‘s with Noah this morn. Horace went after Caley this
pm. Mamie came up and stayed with me. I wrote to Tillie and am going to send her a h‘dk‘f. Caley
came and he stopped a minute and shook hands. Same dear boy.
Sunday, December 31, Deut. 33:27
Very fine day. Calie drove over to S.S. with the sled. Mamie, Lennie and I went. After S.S. we got
Aunt Phebe and came back and I stayed and helped Mary get dinner. Nate and Mary came, also Wilson
and Dell and the children and Rollie. Had a pleasant time. Another year gone. How I wish I were real
good. May the Lord help me.
END OF 1905
1906
Sunday, January 28, John 3:16
Nice fine day. Lennie and I went to S.S. and church. Mr. Carter, a very fine scholar and preacher, was
there and preached. Also an old Mr. Tabor. Mr. Carter preached a good sermon in the eve. Ralph
Monroe made a ridiculous fool of himself by saying ”Amen“ especially when it was very inappropriate.
Mamie came up home with me after church and we went up to the barn.
Sunday, February 4, John 1:11, 12
Nice day but cold. Lennie and I went to church and S.S. Old Mr. Coleman, the Negro, preached.
Good. I came over and had dinner at Horace‘s and a good time. Mary gave me Zella‘s and Mamie‘s
photos. Mary and I went to church this eve.
Monday, February 19, John, 3:16
Beautiful in forenoon but clouded up in pm. Thawing so fast. I went to V. this morn with Frank and got
a neck ribbon 50в,. Had a chat with Dell and borrowed —Ben Hur“ to read. Got stamps 26в. Sent a
mite ($1.00) to the Japan Relief Fund in care of the Christian Herald. Went to Horace‘s this eve. Zella
has a very bad cold and Mamie is coughing a lot.
Tuesday, March 20, Ps. 19:14
Bright with a high cold wind. I ran over to Allie‘s after butter this morn and Mary Jont and Ner and
Mrs. Chamness and Annie and baby were there. I stopped at Horace‘s and Mamie came home with me.
I finished my washing and took Mamie home this eve. Ed went home today and Horace went with him
to cry Abe‘s sale. Mary said she thot they would move to Zion next Monday. Oh how I hate to have
them go.
Thursday, March 29, Ps. 37:3
Cloudy till eve it cleared off nice. I rose very early and went down and helped Horace‘s get off. Oh,
how I hated to have them go. I bade them good bye out at the gate. Lennie, Mamie, Mary, Caley, and
Horace. I tried to tell them I appreciated their kindness but couldn‘t. I came in the house and cried all
forenoon and often since. Went to V. this pm. Got shoes $1.00. Wrote to Tillie this eve. Sent in the 4th
sub. to the Y.C
Wednesday, April 11, Ps. 19:14
Warm, a nice day after all. Bill Davis was buried this pm. I went to V. but was late so didn‘t go to the
funeral. Got my Y.C. Henry G. got a paper from Horace‘s and it did scare Dowie. My! I wish I knew
the exact truth on both sides. Wish I could have Mamie up here tonight. Lennie said Mamie was rather
dumpish and said she was homesick and lonesome. Dear child. I hope she won‘t get sick
Thursday, May 3, Deut. 33:27
Cool and pleasant. Cloudy till in pm, cleared off very nice. I was ”terrible‘ sick this morn for a while
and felt bad all day. Got the white clothes washed. Got a nice letter from Mary and Lennie and Mamie
Harvey. Ran up to Tillie‘s a while this eve. Sent Mary Smith James a letter
Sunday, May 6, Ps. 16:11
Cold, windy and cloudy. I went to SS and to Aunt Phebe‘s for dinner. Wrote to Mary, Lennie and
Mamie
Tuesday, May 22, Amos 4:14
Quite a nice day. I sent Mamie a letter. Nellie came over after school and we sewed on her dress. She
is here for the night
Monday, May 28, John 3:16
Lovely morn. Hard frost and quite cool but so very beautiful. I went to V. with Allie G. in pm. Henry
G., Noah, Al Jackson and Eddie M. are setting Telephone poles today. I got pens, 5в and a present for
Mamie‘s birthday 15в. When I came home there were 6 sows with their pigs in the garden and I had a
hard chase to get rid of them.
Tuesday, May 29, Eph. 4:29-32
A somewhat cloudy and rather cool. Rained from about 4pm. Not much. I sent Mamie the little book
for her birthday, 7 years old. Got a very pleasant letter from Horace, Mary and Lennie. Oh, how I wish
I could see them and be near them always. I do miss them so much. God grant I may see them soon in
peace and happiness. I ironed and baked bread.
Wednesday, May 30, Eph. 4:29-32
Fine day. Dear little Mamie‘s birthday. Nellie came and stayed all night on her way to school
Wednesday, June 13, Eph. 4:29-32
An ideally beautiful day. I did wash. I did get a letter from Mary, Lennie and Mamie. All well and
having good times. Got stamps 10в. Commenced a letter to Mary, Mamie and Lennie
Thursday, June 14, Prov. 15:1
Nice cool cloudy day. Rained a very little this pm. I finished my letter to Mary, Lennie and Mamie and
sent it. Picked a nice mess of strawberries in Noah‘s patch this pm. Oh, I wish I could see Horace‘s
today and every day
Thursday, July 5, Luke 13:24
Very nice day. I skimmed around and got my work done and went to V. in pm. And Horace came back
as far as Allie‘s and in the eve I went down and took a piece of ribbon for Mamie and a hdkf for Lennie
and glass of jelly for Mary to Allie‘s so Horace could put them in his satchel. Visited a spell
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Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A BOX OF LETTERS POSTED BY CHELSEY DRYSDALE
My grandma is full of surprises. Often those surprises come in the form of crass and hilarious words, such as the time my grandpa was accosted by a young prostitute on the street when he was walking his Swiss Mountain dog. When he came home with a phone number, my grandma called it and left this voicemail: "Listen up, you whore b*tch! Can't you leave an old man alone when he's walking his dog?" She threatened police action.
Did I mention my grandma is eighty-three?
Other times, she is full of generous surprises and produces rare family gems. One day last year, she got into one of her give-it-all-away modes and told me to follow her upstairs. In her weaving room where she keeps her loom and wool, she pulled open a drawer in one of her antique wood dressers and pulled out the beautiful, dilapidated box you see in the photo above.
I absolutely love the photo on the box, which is more a shredded pile of dusty cardboard than anything. What was inside, however, blew my mind. How could she have absentmindedly kept this secret from me for so long?
She pulled out a copious stack of letters and envelopes dating back to the early 1900s, and said, "They belonged to my mother. Take 'em." She acted as though she were giving me a few bucks for lunch, but I could tell the letters were important to her by her smile and the way she cackled telling me about them. "These are great!" she said.
Of course they are. They are pieces of her mother's heart, a mother who died well before her time.
And she gave them to me.
I have since scanned the letters and am in the process of retyping them. I never want them to be lost, and I want to share them with you because they are history and about love, a universal theme with which I have much (failed) experience.
It seems trouble in love runs in the family. You'll see.
Cheers, The Grammar Nazi
Did I mention my grandma is eighty-three?
Other times, she is full of generous surprises and produces rare family gems. One day last year, she got into one of her give-it-all-away modes and told me to follow her upstairs. In her weaving room where she keeps her loom and wool, she pulled open a drawer in one of her antique wood dressers and pulled out the beautiful, dilapidated box you see in the photo above.
I absolutely love the photo on the box, which is more a shredded pile of dusty cardboard than anything. What was inside, however, blew my mind. How could she have absentmindedly kept this secret from me for so long?
She pulled out a copious stack of letters and envelopes dating back to the early 1900s, and said, "They belonged to my mother. Take 'em." She acted as though she were giving me a few bucks for lunch, but I could tell the letters were important to her by her smile and the way she cackled telling me about them. "These are great!" she said.
Of course they are. They are pieces of her mother's heart, a mother who died well before her time.
And she gave them to me.
I have since scanned the letters and am in the process of retyping them. I never want them to be lost, and I want to share them with you because they are history and about love, a universal theme with which I have much (failed) experience.
It seems trouble in love runs in the family. You'll see.
Cheers, The Grammar Nazi
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Monday, October 26, 2009
My great-grandmother is on the right. I'm not sure who is on the left. Her sister perhaps?The letters you are about to read mostly were written from 1918 to 1920. My great-grandmother Mamie had two twitterpated suitors at the time. One was Ernest, who wrote to her incessantly, professing his love and giving her day-to-day updates from March Field in Riverside, CA.
The other one was her fiance Clarence, who is merely discussed, as we never actually hear from him directly. One of these men is my great-grandfather; the other one had to settle for family picnics. (My grandma said the jilted and his future wife were around when she was a child and thereafter, which makes her wonder.)
I won't tell you which man ultimately wins her hand in marriage. That would ruin the surprise, since both seem to have a hold on her heart. She is, after all, a Gemini, just like me.
Mamie was born May 30, 1899 in Valton, Wisconsin. She grew up in Ontario, California, where these letters were written. She is 19 when they begin, while the hopelessly-in-love Ernest is ten years her senior, but who can tell by the way he talks?
After reading the letters in their entirety, I realize how much language and "social networking" has changed in such a short period of time. I am both thankful I live in a more modern era, and jealous of a simpler, more formal time. What I find interesting is that the people involved lived in California, where I live, not in some distant, foreign land. What I also find interesting is that the street addresses on the envelopes often didn't include numbers; that's how few people were in Southern California at the time.
Of course, it's important to note this love story takes place in front of the backdrop that is the end of World War I, which is mentioned throughout the correspondence.
Also, be warned: The letters drip with sap more than the trees outside my house. They are both sweet and ridiculous. Times really have changed. Once again, you'll see.
Oh, I forgot to mention: Letter number one is from a woman named Grace. I read most of the Ernest/Mamie letters before I got to Grace, and I was floored another woman was in the mix. My grandma nonchalantly said, "Oh, I think that was his girlfriend at the time."
Drama.
So, here goes (Being the Grammar Nazi I am, I cleaned up many of the errors, but left some in for effect.):
Los Angeles, Cal.
April 9, 1918
Dear Ernest:
I am very sorry to have made you unhappy when you were up.
I have finished your sweater at last and am sending it to you. I hope you enjoy wearing it as much as I have enjoyed making it.
Each stitch is a wish for your happiness and success.
I received your cute little note after you were here.
Brad and Irvie are up in Oakland just now. You can imagine how we miss Brother.
Let us hear from you, Ernest, and whenever you are in Los Angeles, come and see us. Kindest regards from all.
With love, Grace
Ontario, Calif.
July 17, 1918
My dear Soldier Boy:
Please don’t think I am rushing things. I mean our friendship, by writing so quickly, but I want to thank you so much for the nice box of candy and the lovely letter. I received the candy yesterday and I sure was tickled over it because it showed that you cared a little bit at least and I appreciate that oh! so much. And I love this little picture of yourself that you enclosed in the letter. I’m so glad you are smiling. It always makes me feel good when I see a soldier smile. Now, just laugh at me. Who can write any better letter than yourself? I sure enjoyed it. It sounded just exactly like the way you talk and that’s the way I like for a letter to be. It was short but sweet, just like our first day together.
But we are only about 25 miles apart and are liable to spend another day together sometime, let’s hope soon! I ask you now to please come over sometime. You don’t necessarily have to come with Jim Mac, do you? Just come some Sunday morning and call or telephone 14470 and ask for me and I’ll drive up to get you, etc. I’d love to have you come.
I am going to San Diego Friday morning on the 6:30 bus and staying until Monday, so you hadn’t better come this week you see.
I won’t say what I am going for because it wouldn’t interest you (ha!ha!) but I’ll say this much. I’m not going to get married. Oh! gee!
Your letter makes me laugh. It is so full of expression and it seems as though I were really conversing with you! I’d like to know you better, boy dear, because I like you much, only don’t call me dear sweet little girlie. It isn’t like you to say it. I like it but – don’t dear friend. You said you were rather upset yourself. What about? Don’t get upset about me. I’m not big enough to upset you. I shan’t forget the goodbye between you and I, dear “E.D.” (I don’t like to say Ernest either.) Let me call you Edie (E.D.) just between you and I. Please?
Mamie
Comments to come, The Grammar Nazi
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Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Goodbye, Grace
Okay, first of all, I'm not sure if women make men sweaters anymore as a way to woo them. I think the only women making sweaters are aunts and grandmas. It's sweet that Grace takes the time to do so for a man whom she may be in love with. "With love" sure indicates something, especially since my grandma mentioned she was Ernest's girlfriend at the time. As you will see below, however, a few months later, Grace is not happy with Ernest. His mind is elsewhere, and he "disses" her something fierce. Pauvre Grace. (By the way, I Googled Grace's LA address, and it still exists. She lived northeast of USC.)
In the first letter from Mamie, already we see her working poor Ernest. She's engaged and yet she calls him her "dear soldier boy." Here's a woman who doesn't seem to know exactly what she wants. (I have no idea what that's like. Yeah, right.) She dangles that proverbial carrot in his face because she adores the attention, and she probably truly is in love (or infatuation) with two men.
On the flip side, Ernest is taking the bait and sending her candy, letters and a photo of himself. He may be a glutton for punishment, and a bit of a doormat.
Did you notice the comment about their first day together being "short and sweet"? I wish I knew the details about their initial encounter, and how long before the letters started after it had occurred. We'll just have to use our imaginations.
Another "times have changed" moment in that last letter was when she said she hoped she wasn't "rushing" their relationship by writing him a letter too soon. Can you imagine someone saying that now?
Oh, Mamie. You big tease! "I'm going to San Diego, but I'm not going to tell you why." Just suffer, poor lovesick military man. Suffer and wait.
Here's another letter from Grace. She has been stood up:
LA
July 28, 1918
Dear Ernest:
You don’t know how disappointed I am that you didn’t come tonight. What happened? Next time you come to LA, won’t you call as soon as you get in and come out to dinner? Promise me that you will. I enjoyed your letter so much and your picture is splendid. Many thanks. Maybe you will consider this a letter and answer soon. I hope so.
With love,
Grace
Ernest failed to call on Grace, even after she made him a sweater! He also sent her a letter and a photo, just like Mamie. That's just not very nice of him, but as you'll see below, he's all about Mamie, the woman he can't have. Sadly, I believe this is the last we hear from Grace. Their relationship must have fizzled fairly quickly that summer. Hopefully she found her true love elsewhere.
Aero Squadron A.
September 19, 1918
Riverside, Calif.
Dearest Little Girl –
Please forgive me. I feel as though I’ve been rude to you and then some. Yes you did try to comfort me and it did make me feel worse. Well because I care for you. But I had no business showing that I felt so bunk. O girl-girl if I could write a letter like you. (Some letters, full of life & love.) Forgive me for not writing sooner. We’ve put in some long days this week. If it wasn’t for lights out at 9, I too would have written till late several nights. I wrote several letters and then tore them up.
Do I care for you? Yes! Too too much. God I wish there were two of you and you were the one for me.
No dear if you go to a convent I’ll t-t-tear the walls down.
They say all is fair in love and war. Wish to goodness I knew who started that so I would know whether to believe it or not.
Imagine…I cannot. I don’t smoke cigarettes and I’m not a fourflusher. So I can’t fool myself. I do not drink so I cannot get drunk. And I can’t cry! Baby…
I think I’ll quit going to church. Yet when I open my eyes Sun. morning, hope your preacher is a good one.
Sweet girl I don’t know what to say, just sit and think and think till it gives me a headache. Oh why!
Several of us took exam yesterday to go to ground school. If I were put on flying here, would I turn down going to B? I said yes! I meant for the present, but that flunked me. Expect to be put on soon. If I make good I’ll be an enlisted aviator. Wish you could be an aviatrixey. It is some problem to decide wh-what to do. Huh!
Gee I wish I wish I wish. But what is the use of wishing.
It’s almost 9 again and they will not let one write in the washroom. There is a fellow reading the theory of flight and he is just bothering me.
Well dearest girl. Good-night.
Just look at the lovely moon! Ooo. Last night we had hash for supper and I, for the first time since I can remember, talked in my sleep. Nearly woke up several others and every once in a while, someone else would talk.
With lots of love. (Forgive me.)
E.D.
Yesterday one of the lts. gave me a picture that the movie people took of another fellow and I. They had gone to Edendale and seen the films and it was given to them for me. They said there were five.
You are one girl I’d love to take to see the play when it is released. “Night.” “Lights out.”
E.D.
Until next time, The Grammar Nazi
Okay, first of all, I'm not sure if women make men sweaters anymore as a way to woo them. I think the only women making sweaters are aunts and grandmas. It's sweet that Grace takes the time to do so for a man whom she may be in love with. "With love" sure indicates something, especially since my grandma mentioned she was Ernest's girlfriend at the time. As you will see below, however, a few months later, Grace is not happy with Ernest. His mind is elsewhere, and he "disses" her something fierce. Pauvre Grace. (By the way, I Googled Grace's LA address, and it still exists. She lived northeast of USC.)
In the first letter from Mamie, already we see her working poor Ernest. She's engaged and yet she calls him her "dear soldier boy." Here's a woman who doesn't seem to know exactly what she wants. (I have no idea what that's like. Yeah, right.) She dangles that proverbial carrot in his face because she adores the attention, and she probably truly is in love (or infatuation) with two men.
On the flip side, Ernest is taking the bait and sending her candy, letters and a photo of himself. He may be a glutton for punishment, and a bit of a doormat.
Did you notice the comment about their first day together being "short and sweet"? I wish I knew the details about their initial encounter, and how long before the letters started after it had occurred. We'll just have to use our imaginations.
Another "times have changed" moment in that last letter was when she said she hoped she wasn't "rushing" their relationship by writing him a letter too soon. Can you imagine someone saying that now?
Oh, Mamie. You big tease! "I'm going to San Diego, but I'm not going to tell you why." Just suffer, poor lovesick military man. Suffer and wait.
Here's another letter from Grace. She has been stood up:
LA
July 28, 1918
Dear Ernest:
You don’t know how disappointed I am that you didn’t come tonight. What happened? Next time you come to LA, won’t you call as soon as you get in and come out to dinner? Promise me that you will. I enjoyed your letter so much and your picture is splendid. Many thanks. Maybe you will consider this a letter and answer soon. I hope so.
With love,
Grace
Ernest failed to call on Grace, even after she made him a sweater! He also sent her a letter and a photo, just like Mamie. That's just not very nice of him, but as you'll see below, he's all about Mamie, the woman he can't have. Sadly, I believe this is the last we hear from Grace. Their relationship must have fizzled fairly quickly that summer. Hopefully she found her true love elsewhere.
Aero Squadron A.
September 19, 1918
Riverside, Calif.
Dearest Little Girl –
Please forgive me. I feel as though I’ve been rude to you and then some. Yes you did try to comfort me and it did make me feel worse. Well because I care for you. But I had no business showing that I felt so bunk. O girl-girl if I could write a letter like you. (Some letters, full of life & love.) Forgive me for not writing sooner. We’ve put in some long days this week. If it wasn’t for lights out at 9, I too would have written till late several nights. I wrote several letters and then tore them up.
Do I care for you? Yes! Too too much. God I wish there were two of you and you were the one for me.
No dear if you go to a convent I’ll t-t-tear the walls down.
They say all is fair in love and war. Wish to goodness I knew who started that so I would know whether to believe it or not.
Imagine…I cannot. I don’t smoke cigarettes and I’m not a fourflusher. So I can’t fool myself. I do not drink so I cannot get drunk. And I can’t cry! Baby…
I think I’ll quit going to church. Yet when I open my eyes Sun. morning, hope your preacher is a good one.
Sweet girl I don’t know what to say, just sit and think and think till it gives me a headache. Oh why!
Several of us took exam yesterday to go to ground school. If I were put on flying here, would I turn down going to B? I said yes! I meant for the present, but that flunked me. Expect to be put on soon. If I make good I’ll be an enlisted aviator. Wish you could be an aviatrixey. It is some problem to decide wh-what to do. Huh!
Gee I wish I wish I wish. But what is the use of wishing.
It’s almost 9 again and they will not let one write in the washroom. There is a fellow reading the theory of flight and he is just bothering me.
Well dearest girl. Good-night.
Just look at the lovely moon! Ooo. Last night we had hash for supper and I, for the first time since I can remember, talked in my sleep. Nearly woke up several others and every once in a while, someone else would talk.
With lots of love. (Forgive me.)
E.D.
Yesterday one of the lts. gave me a picture that the movie people took of another fellow and I. They had gone to Edendale and seen the films and it was given to them for me. They said there were five.
You are one girl I’d love to take to see the play when it is released. “Night.” “Lights out.”
E.D.
Until next time, The Grammar Nazi
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Ernest's last letter was a whopper, huh? I have so many questions. How was he rude to her when he felt "bunk"? (I love that word.) What is this about my great-grandmother considering the convent? We are obviously not related. She couldn't have been seriously considering it. She was engaged and flirting with another man!
What the heck is a fourflusher? Wait. I'm going to Google it. Be right back.
Okay, I'm back. Thank you, Wikipedia: A four flush is a poker hand that is one card short of being a full flush; a four flusher is a person who makes empty boasts or bluffs when holding a four flush.
I learn something new every day.
I wonder why Ernest has decided to quit going to church, and why the heck he doesn't drink. Surely he'll start now that he has given up organized religion.
Another new favorite word: "aviatrixey." An aviatrix is a female aviator, but he added an 'ey', which makes it sound like she would be his arm candy while he struts around in his flight gear.
He refers to a place called 'B,' but I'm unclear where that is.
The way he talks about being bothered by the guy next to him is funny; Ernest sounds younger than his 30 years by 2009 standards. That's one of the things I find so fascinating about 1918 language: It has an undertone of youth and innocence you don't find these days in adults.
Last, what a great phrase "the movie people" is as well. It makes film appear so "newfangled" and "mysterious," which it was.
Now if Ernest could quit beating himself up over Mamie, but alas, there's much more.
Aero Squadron A
September 25, 1918
Riverside, Cal.
Out in the field.
Not on a pink scented note paper, but on an empty stomach. Almost time to go to mess. Wish it was dinner with you. Was some busy this am. Motor’s on the blink all around.
Gee girl! I feel that I was mean to you Sunday. Dear sweet girl I just want to kiss and make up. Forgive me? I’ve asked you that lots of times already, but I guess I’m the big enough dickens to have to ask you dozens of times yet. Such is romance, huh!
But girl of girls, you did torment me toooo and everything. But I wouldn’t have missed being with you Sunday for anything.
Hope you are feeling scrumptious whatever that is. And will please please pretty please write when you can and I do want to see you Sun. M-may I?
Well here comes the circus and one ship missing, so bye dear. May have time to write a line later and may not. Wish the ship came down near there instead of anywhere over here. Bye! E.D.
Some ride bumpy, went over rough road. Yes the highways are rough sometimes.
P.S. Just need your dandy letter. I write too this week. Will have to mail this immediately with lots of love. E.D.
So they saw each other, but he's begging to see her again and begging for a letter, and just generally begging. I don't remember the last time a guy begged me for anything. It's somewhat sweet and somewhat annoying. Don't you think? What is this about him being mean to her again? However, as he mentions, and as you'll see, she does torment him. Here's a letter from her on the same day:
Ontario, California
September 25, 1918
My dear Ernest,
I’ve got 20 minutes before I go on duty at 5:00. The thing to do is I’ll just scribble a line to you.
Hope you will excuse the pencil dear. I left my pen at home.
How are you getting along dear? I expected a letter from you today and went to the post office especially for one—and didn’t get it. I was disappointed.
Dear when you come over next time, (Sunday), I’m not going to let my emotions get the best of me like I did Sunday. It’s my fault dear. I have no business sharing so much that I care for you. I’m going to love you just the same as ever, but it won’t show so much in my actions – if I can help it. Perhaps it will be easier for you then.
I haven’t heard from Clarence yet. It has been an awful long time but …
Today has been a hard day for me – as was yesterday. Had go for dinner each day between 12:00 and 1:15. I didn’t know whether I was living or dead. Both I guess. I’m thinking seriously of quitting but I want to have another job first. I want to talk to you about – something too. Something you spoke about Sunday, dear. I won’t go farther. I am quite tired tonight. But if you were to be here, I wouldn’t be tired at all.
I’ve just been playing this music box – the song you played Sunday. I hope to lose you and it makes me feel sad dear Ernest boy.
Well, it’s 5:10 so I guess I can’t say much more. That (bad girl) I told you about Sun. night just went by and looked in for me and [unclear word] comes her victim, the barber. He’s trying to draw me in too since “B” (the girl) told him a lot. I went to SD with her. I hate him dear. I wish I wish I wish I could be near you. If I could only go to Riverside – away from all these people!
Dear, I know I promised you I’d quit and I will, but I may be there Sunday so call in here when you come over and I’ll try to get the machine and we can have a good time. (I’ll tell the folks this time dear. No mischief. Ha ha ha.) Well, bye-bye dear, with love.
(Come as early as you can.)
Mamie.
Okay, let me get all this straight: First she apologizes for using a pencil. Who does that? Nowadays, people barely use pens!
Second, Sunday's meeting must have been hot! She let her emotions get the best of her. I wonder what that means? I bet there was some smooching going on. In the next breath, she mentions Clarence, just as a reminder to poor Ernest that he's not the only one wooing her. And so begins her awful teasing. This letter is full of mixed signals. She hopes to let him go, but she also wants him to come over again. Make up your mind, lady. Stop toying with the poor man. Last time he came over, the parents weren't involved and there was "mischief," but not next time because she's a good girl, and because it will help HIM if she doesn't succumb to her feelings. Sure...
I'm really confused about the bad girl and the barber, but that story is clearly not applicable to our saga, just intriguing.
TTFN, The Grammar Nazi
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Saturday, November 21, 2009
September 25, 1918
Aero Squadron A.
Riverside, Calif.
Dearest Girl!
Just read your letter over, didn’t really have time this noon. Anyway I love to read your letters. Makes it seem as tho you live right here (almost!) Gee you have presence of mind when you can throw a comeback like that in a restaurant. Fellow keeps cool in a critical situation sure wins. Psychology you know. Is that deep too – did I? what!
Brother and sister – yes, but dear girl. I have a sister and you have a brother. See one can’t have two nowadays with everything so high. I just wrote her a letter tonight were I to put her letter in your envelope and yours in hers, she wouldn’t understand and you wouldn’t either honey!
Wish I knew what else to write. I’d love to go to the LA Orpheum Sun. night tho with you. If. I can’t figure out anything definite in the army.
I must do some laundry. Can’t get it back in time from the laundry and they don’t do it like we soldiers do.
And O, I must write a dear aunty of mine in Ohio a letter. She is always sending things and things and things. So, night honeybunch. And write soon. E.D.
Aero Squadron A.
Oct. 3, 1918
So! Dear girl:
Forgive me for writing two to your not any. It’s been raining all afternoon, was through work early and I don’t have to stick around like most of the fellows till 5: So I didn’t have anything to do to keep from thinking. Been studying this eve. O, on aerodynamics. They just brought in the maid and there was none for me. Um hum. I just turned away and said “darn it” and everything just like that. I hardly know what to write. I only know I want to come to Ontario awhile Saturday eve. May I?
We were to have been paid yesterday eve, but the PM was away and didn’t come back till after nine. And we were all dolled waiting in the dark. They called it off and we went over this morning before 5: It was either then or – later. The other squadrons will have to wait. We won the relay race the other night and a game of ball so the K.O. felt pretty good. Gonna have a special feed soon.
The movie bunch has gone. They will show the pictures for the first time in the Y.A. in about two weeks. Dear, dear girl wish you could see them. They ought to be fine. Gee, I think I’ll have to learn to smoke. The other fellows are writing, smoking and writing. All I can think of is sweet music and you. They keep the piano busy. M-hmum! And how are you? Bet you rec’d a letter from him [Clarence] and he says he has no other girl. O Mamie dear, I want you anyhow.
It’s Friday again tomorrow and inspection and everything. But I can’t be bothered. Hope we get through early Saturday. This morning one of the machines kissed the ground. No one hurt. Had trouble with several of the others. Same circus, bunch of sparrows, etc.
Mc. Jimmie just asked, “What are you doing Saturday? Writing to her?”
It’s mailing time, so night dear. E.D.
Writing something anyhow. Will you hunnie?
Saturday, November 28, 2009
We haven't heard from Mamie for awhile. She tends to write one letter for every two or three of Ernest's love notes. Either that or her letters are missing. Maybe they are tucked away in the jacket pocket of the clothes he's buried in. I wouldn't be surprised. He epitomizes lovesick. My heart bleeds for him because we've all been there: You are away from the one you love either because of distance or circumstance, and you think about that person every second of every day, and you ache because you can't be next to the object of your affection. It's a painful, yet obligatory experience. A rite of passage. Necessary torture. Typical.
The next letter is something I need to ask my grandma about: Who are the people being discussed? My guess is the writer, Sarah, is someone in Ernest's family, as are the others she mentions. I just don't know how they are related at this time. My favorite line comes toward the end of the letter. You'll know it when you see it. It makes me want to scream, "Too late!" It's a done deal. Ernest is in over his head.
Los Angeles, CA
October 18, 1918
Dear Ernest:
I wrote you a letter last week and failed to mail it. Isn’t that a fine thing to do?
Did you see Agnes? She hasn’t come home nor written so we don’t know anything about her trip. She went to Santa Ana Sunday, phoned Mama from there that she was going to stay a few days and we have not heard from her since.
Alex quit his job and came home Wednesday. He would like to get in the army as a flyer. He inquired about it and was told to report for physical examination Saturday. If he passes his examinations here, he will be sent to Berkeley. He also is thinking of going in the Signal Corp instead of waiting a long time for a commission in the aviation. He isn’t just settled in his mind what to do, but he’ll decide tomorrow.
Fred has been reinstated in his city job. He started work this AM at $125 a month.
We haven’t heard from your dad. He had a sore hand when he left here and that and the influenza epidemic has Fred worried about him.
Aren’t you ever going to give us a Sunday anymore? Please don’t fall in love with the other fellow’s girl!!!!
Dave is recovering from a very bad attack of influenza. He had a temperature of 104º for several days!
Come see us soon, won’t you?
Love,
Sarah
A $125 a month! Times have changed. Can you imagine surviving on that in Southern California now? That's slightly more than a third of my car payment.
Here's a juicy one from Ernest to that "other fellow's girl" around the same time:
Aero Sqdrn A.
October 1918
Riverside, Calif.
Dearest Darling of Mine…
Rec’d two of the loveliest letters from the dearest girl. There I won’t say any more or you won’t love me anymore. O girlie I just love you oodles anyhow, anyway and then some.
No, what you said wasn’t that I’ll tell you about it when, when I see you again dearest. They are talking of lifting the quarantine at the end of the week. But one can’t figure on anything in the army. But here’s hoping! I’d sure shout.
Dear, when you spoke of me loving you till Clarence came back, I didn’t understand you honey, either. I thought you meant we would have to part then forever and dearie, it just made me feel like saying I don’t know, and then some.
Yes! You did make me feel worse, since you are engaged and I love you sooo. I knew if I were to go allll the way and then lose you, O how awful awful punk I’d feel afterward. But dearest! I just want to see you now and just go all the way. Sure was glad to hear from you and that you feel scrumptious and spiffy.
Dear! Let me get one of those things for you. Haven’t you got another birthday now? Xmas is almost here too. Won’t you girlie? When a fellow does want to get something, it’s generally something useless and he doesn’t know what in the Dickens to get. Gee, I hope we get off this weekend.
This is only a short letter but will write another tomorrow and if I don’t mail this right away, it won’t reach you for another half day.
So with lots of love and I’d love to kiss you O sooo tenderly right now. Night! Dearest girl of mine.
And don’t forget where I live.
Ernest
Whoa! Slow down there, Ernest! "Going all the way" with another man's fiance is probably not a wise decision, even if you love her. I wonder what he means by "one of those things" he wants to get her for her birthday. The most telling line of this letter alludes to Mamie wanting him to love her in Clarence's place until he comes back. Where is he? How can she justify Ernest as merely a placeholder? I'm not in her position, so I don't know what's going on in her head, but it does seem as if she's just toying with Ernest. Does she really love him? Does Clarence have any idea there is someone else? So many questions.
For those of you playing along, "Gee, I hope we get off this weekend" refers to him not working. Get your mind out of the gutter.
More to come, The Grammar Nazi
The next letter is something I need to ask my grandma about: Who are the people being discussed? My guess is the writer, Sarah, is someone in Ernest's family, as are the others she mentions. I just don't know how they are related at this time. My favorite line comes toward the end of the letter. You'll know it when you see it. It makes me want to scream, "Too late!" It's a done deal. Ernest is in over his head.
Los Angeles, CA
October 18, 1918
Dear Ernest:
I wrote you a letter last week and failed to mail it. Isn’t that a fine thing to do?
Did you see Agnes? She hasn’t come home nor written so we don’t know anything about her trip. She went to Santa Ana Sunday, phoned Mama from there that she was going to stay a few days and we have not heard from her since.
Alex quit his job and came home Wednesday. He would like to get in the army as a flyer. He inquired about it and was told to report for physical examination Saturday. If he passes his examinations here, he will be sent to Berkeley. He also is thinking of going in the Signal Corp instead of waiting a long time for a commission in the aviation. He isn’t just settled in his mind what to do, but he’ll decide tomorrow.
Fred has been reinstated in his city job. He started work this AM at $125 a month.
We haven’t heard from your dad. He had a sore hand when he left here and that and the influenza epidemic has Fred worried about him.
Aren’t you ever going to give us a Sunday anymore? Please don’t fall in love with the other fellow’s girl!!!!
Dave is recovering from a very bad attack of influenza. He had a temperature of 104º for several days!
Come see us soon, won’t you?
Love,
Sarah
A $125 a month! Times have changed. Can you imagine surviving on that in Southern California now? That's slightly more than a third of my car payment.
Here's a juicy one from Ernest to that "other fellow's girl" around the same time:
Aero Sqdrn A.
October 1918
Riverside, Calif.
Dearest Darling of Mine…
Rec’d two of the loveliest letters from the dearest girl. There I won’t say any more or you won’t love me anymore. O girlie I just love you oodles anyhow, anyway and then some.
No, what you said wasn’t that I’ll tell you about it when, when I see you again dearest. They are talking of lifting the quarantine at the end of the week. But one can’t figure on anything in the army. But here’s hoping! I’d sure shout.
Dear, when you spoke of me loving you till Clarence came back, I didn’t understand you honey, either. I thought you meant we would have to part then forever and dearie, it just made me feel like saying I don’t know, and then some.
Yes! You did make me feel worse, since you are engaged and I love you sooo. I knew if I were to go allll the way and then lose you, O how awful awful punk I’d feel afterward. But dearest! I just want to see you now and just go all the way. Sure was glad to hear from you and that you feel scrumptious and spiffy.
Dear! Let me get one of those things for you. Haven’t you got another birthday now? Xmas is almost here too. Won’t you girlie? When a fellow does want to get something, it’s generally something useless and he doesn’t know what in the Dickens to get. Gee, I hope we get off this weekend.
This is only a short letter but will write another tomorrow and if I don’t mail this right away, it won’t reach you for another half day.
So with lots of love and I’d love to kiss you O sooo tenderly right now. Night! Dearest girl of mine.
And don’t forget where I live.
Ernest
Whoa! Slow down there, Ernest! "Going all the way" with another man's fiance is probably not a wise decision, even if you love her. I wonder what he means by "one of those things" he wants to get her for her birthday. The most telling line of this letter alludes to Mamie wanting him to love her in Clarence's place until he comes back. Where is he? How can she justify Ernest as merely a placeholder? I'm not in her position, so I don't know what's going on in her head, but it does seem as if she's just toying with Ernest. Does she really love him? Does Clarence have any idea there is someone else? So many questions.
For those of you playing along, "Gee, I hope we get off this weekend" refers to him not working. Get your mind out of the gutter.
More to come, The Grammar Nazi
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Saturday, December 5, 2009
November 1918
Aero Squadron A.
So darling girlie –
Well I don’t know very much to scribble. Only that I miss you and O how I wish I were with you dearest, and I love you more than ever. The boys have been playing the pianola all evening, but it does no good. There is someone missing. You you you!
It seemed to take the stage an awful long time to get there Sat. evening – and then only a few moments and I had to leave. See I don’t think eternity would seem long at all…with little…dear little you.
Made another trip today dear to Hemet. O why wasn’t it Ontario and the only visitor we had was a young lady? A very modest one. Reminded me of the picture I have of you in overalls. She must have come half a mile but wouldn’t come up to the ships. About a hundred yards is as close as the dear would come. When we took off she waved and we circled and dove right down and waved.
Oh boy why wasn’t it Ontario – and different. It was pretty cold coming back and is pretty cold here. Now again I wish somebody was here and with cold that I could keep warm and lovely. Hope dearest that you get a good place at the Hot Point so your time will not be so miserably chopped up. And so full of unhappiness (what a very big word and how very much it means), huh! Was just going to the canteen a bit ago to drown my sorrows in a piece of candy when one of the fellows in my section sprung a box he just received. It’s g-gone now – (the candy is).
Mc. Jimmie (?) just asked, was I writing you? Said he rec’d a letter from mgnt (?). Hope it is lifted by then. On top of his four days of grace after quarantine, he is in charge of quarters Sat. evening. Poor boy – he said he was going to be away if he had to see the General. If he gets away with it, I’ll see the General too.
Dearest, that was just the most lovely treat to be with you darling and to leave so quickly just a wave and gone. O sugar! (but then – sugar is sweet, isn’t it?)
And Mamie. That is some chum you have. And please Mrs. Cod, don’t g-give Mamie the dickens the next morning.
Everyone is going to bed to keep warm, so goodnight deardeardeardearest girl! Hope you are well. Lots of love,
E.D.
And remember I wouldn’t take anything for a Hello from you.
Wait, they are going to bed because it's cold? They are in Riverside, CA. How cold could it possibly be?
Ah yes, the pianola. My grandmother has a player piano we kids used to torment the family with at every gathering. We'd pull scrolls out of long red boxes, slide the wood panels open in the front of the piano, hook the paper to the player and spend hours pedaling for dear life, while we watched the keys go up and down like the ghost of Beethoven was at the helm. The braille-like pages whizzed before our eyes, and we got such a kick out of it. I will always have a fondness for ragtime piano music because of this. I'm sure the songs we "played" were much like the ones Ernest refers to here.
That he has a photo of my great-grandmother in overalls makes me smile. I used to wear overalls all the time.
I want to know what Hot Point is. Sounds steamy.
He's going to a canteen to drown his sorrows in candy. Sorry, a piece of candy. Not whiskey, not gin. A piece of candy. So Adorable and innocent.
Here we finally hear something quite substantial from the lady in question, and it comes just one day before the end of the war:
Sunday night, 11:30
Nov. 10, 1918
Dear, did you have a good time today without me? I hope you didn’t get lonely. I did. We got all ready for that blamed company and they never came. We were pretty well disgusted. My brother and family were out tho. Dear Ernest boy. I haven’t the heart to write a decent letter to you tonight. Know why? I’m so miserable. My heart aches so and there is no cure for a long time. I can’t answer your sweet letter either. I want to talk to you instead. I’m tired and sleepy and it’s late too. I wish you didn’t love me so desperately and both ways because it will be so hard to say goodbye to each other when the time comes. I hope that time never comes tho. Oh Ernest! I’ve got to be true to Clarence! My love and life means the world to him he writes, and he is so happy and proud of his little sweetheart. (So true!) Oh Ernest! If he knew how I love you it would break up his whole life. And I can’t do that after being engaged for almost three years and almost as close at times as if we were married. I mean mental and spiritual and – never mind. I can’t say it now to you dear. But you can guess. He loves me that way, but if he knew that I loved someone else better than I did him he wouldn’t hold me a minute, but would tell me to go to the man I loved and be happy because that is what he wants me to be – happy. Oh he is so unselfish and good. I ought to be too.
Side note - Yes dear I could trust you to be good to the end of this world!
Another side note – 2:00 Monday morning – Oh Ernest! It’s come really and truly this time. Peace is declared!
He is coming … soon … not far away and we will be married. But there will be part of me that belongs to you and he can’t fill the empty space in my heart. I ought to be happy with him and I will try to be for the sake of being as brave as he.
I am afraid that the longer you and I know each other, the more we will love each other and I can’t bear to think of us parting. Can you? We ought to be engaged right now – the way we love, etc. But a girl can’t be engaged to two men at once can she, dear?
Clarence wrote me a beautiful letter and I received it Friday. It was a love letter right from his very soul and heart. And it made me feel like following him on my knees all the rest of my life.
I will admit that Clarence knows more about me than is right for him to know until we are married, but we have acquired a great and beautiful understanding thru any passionate love. I can’t write about it to you. You might misunderstand me and think me a bad girl. I am not, dear. I believe I could tell you all about it safely. But I can’t write it.
Don’t feel badly now. Maybe I’ll mark off this spell in a day or so and be willing to give myself all to you. I don’t know which love I love best - yours or “C’s.” They are so different yet so beautifully sweet. Good night dear and write soon, and I’ll see you soon and we can talk things over. I love you dearly, dear. Your Mamie.
It's no wonder he continues to pine for her when she's engaged to Clarence. She provides him with so much hope in this one piece of correspondence. She says it will be impossible to say goodbye, but she must because she is going to marry Clarence and be true to him. However, she then says she loves Ernest more than Clarence. Then she says she loves him differently. She's one confused woman. What does one do when she loves two people at the same time? No, really. What does she do?
It appears Clarence is overseas and will be home soon because the war is over. (Now I understand her request to Ernest to love her in his place.) I wonder if Ernest ever felt inadequate as a stay-at-home soldier, while Mamie's other love was actually fighting, if indeed that's what he was doing.
Mamie has shared three years of engagement with Clarence and he "knows" her more than he should. How is that supposed to make Ernest feel? Why is she so open about this with him? Is she trying to hurt his feelings or make him jealous? If so, it's working I'm sure.
The engaged one ends her letter with "your Mamie." The word "your" signifies belonging. One last way to hang onto to Ernest and not have him walk away just yet, not that he would. He's in this for the long haul, until she walks down the aisle with Clarence, whom she wants to follow for the rest of her life, or does she? The Queen of Mixed Signals has spoken and befuddled us all. What's next?
My head spins, The Grammar Nazi
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Thursday, December 10, 2009
A woman writes to Ernest about the end of the war:
Nov. 11, 1918
Dear Ernest:
I am still in bed but rejoicing over peace being declared and thought of you and am sending you these few lines to tell you so. Everyone in Exeter acts as though they were crazy. Closed everything up and just parading the streets in every way shape and form. And making all the noise they can. I don’t blame them if I was able to I would be among them and doing my bit. Can’t write very much but want to let you know I thought of you. Best wishes and hoping to see you before long. I remain as ever Your SST.
Mrs. E. Patten
Ernest writes to Mamie the day the war ends:
Nov. 11, 1918
Aero Squadron A., Riverside, Calif.
Dearest little girl of mine:
Rec’d your big little letter last week. Sure was glad to get it. Poor lil dear. Fellow sure feels helpless. Wants to do something and I can’t. Hope honey that you are alright again when this gets there and that it doesn’t take it long to arrive. Mail sure must go around some to get there.
That bit that you wrote on the margin seemed kind of funny. One of the words from the lines dropped it in two and I read the first part and then I saw. Ha ha. One half. Ha ha. Must be a dear sweet smile. Did you give the other half to Mabel?
We are still in quarantine but managed to get a pass and went to LA. And O boy I went on the stage Cadillac, and it was all I could do to stay on the stage office in Ontario to change. Hecktopinkus! Whatever that means – and everything. Visited one of my brothers for a while, rode around in their machine. Bummed around the rest of the time. Took a few pictures, etc. And now I’m back and the war is over and everything. Am awfully lonesome right now. A big bunch of fellows were to have gone to France and Honolulu from our squadron but they suspended it, as they did the draft.
Well I haven’t written anything. Did some washing and now it’s getting late again. Some of our things we can wash better than the laundry. Then have the post tailor presses them.
One of the fellows just made sergeant and he has [?] on his overcoat, coveralls and shirt. And they all kid him and say he has them on his underwear.
I just rec’d a letter and package from sis in Ohio, sent me some more socks. Gave several pairs to several fellows to wear at night. It’s been real cool here the last week. Frost every morning.
Well dear dear girl
I wonder wonder wonder wonder about so many things.
Hope darling that you will and can ½ ha ha yet – and not think I’m writing too often.
Honey if you do, I’ll just write anyhow.
And then tear up the letters. XX
I guess.
And when I just want to see you sooo, I’ll look at your sweet self in a picture and then say sugar oh sweetheart.
I want to say things but don’t know how. Wish I could write like you. Night and all the love in the world as ever. E.D. XX
Nov. 11, 1918
Dear Ernest:
I am still in bed but rejoicing over peace being declared and thought of you and am sending you these few lines to tell you so. Everyone in Exeter acts as though they were crazy. Closed everything up and just parading the streets in every way shape and form. And making all the noise they can. I don’t blame them if I was able to I would be among them and doing my bit. Can’t write very much but want to let you know I thought of you. Best wishes and hoping to see you before long. I remain as ever Your SST.
Mrs. E. Patten
Ernest writes to Mamie the day the war ends:
Nov. 11, 1918
Aero Squadron A., Riverside, Calif.
Dearest little girl of mine:
Rec’d your big little letter last week. Sure was glad to get it. Poor lil dear. Fellow sure feels helpless. Wants to do something and I can’t. Hope honey that you are alright again when this gets there and that it doesn’t take it long to arrive. Mail sure must go around some to get there.
That bit that you wrote on the margin seemed kind of funny. One of the words from the lines dropped it in two and I read the first part and then I saw. Ha ha. One half. Ha ha. Must be a dear sweet smile. Did you give the other half to Mabel?
We are still in quarantine but managed to get a pass and went to LA. And O boy I went on the stage Cadillac, and it was all I could do to stay on the stage office in Ontario to change. Hecktopinkus! Whatever that means – and everything. Visited one of my brothers for a while, rode around in their machine. Bummed around the rest of the time. Took a few pictures, etc. And now I’m back and the war is over and everything. Am awfully lonesome right now. A big bunch of fellows were to have gone to France and Honolulu from our squadron but they suspended it, as they did the draft.
Well I haven’t written anything. Did some washing and now it’s getting late again. Some of our things we can wash better than the laundry. Then have the post tailor presses them.
One of the fellows just made sergeant and he has [?] on his overcoat, coveralls and shirt. And they all kid him and say he has them on his underwear.
I just rec’d a letter and package from sis in Ohio, sent me some more socks. Gave several pairs to several fellows to wear at night. It’s been real cool here the last week. Frost every morning.
Well dear dear girl
I wonder wonder wonder wonder about so many things.
Hope darling that you will and can ½ ha ha yet – and not think I’m writing too often.
Honey if you do, I’ll just write anyhow.
And then tear up the letters. XX
I guess.
And when I just want to see you sooo, I’ll look at your sweet self in a picture and then say sugar oh sweetheart.
I want to say things but don’t know how. Wish I could write like you. Night and all the love in the world as ever. E.D. XX
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Monday, December 21, 2009
I'd say Mamie is happy the war is over, wouldn't you?
November 12, 1918
Oh Earnest, isn’t this a wonderful day! Think of what it means for the world. I wish you could understand just how I feel today dear. But you can’t I guess. I want to shout and sing and yet I want to cry. I wish I could be with you today.
I got up at 2:00 last night and Zella and I went up town. Of all the noise and fun. There was a [?] a mile long formed in less than fifteen minutes and we were second to the head. Fire truck led. We went all over Ontario and Upland and shouted and sang and screamed and blew horns and pounded tin cans till I can hear it yet. It lasted till 5:30 and then we came home almost froze to death and hoarse! I couldn’t speak! I went to bed and got up at 9:30. Ha ha! Am cleaning and decorating the machine to be in a big parade at 2:30 today. I only wish you could be here with me. Wouldn’t it be great tho?
Well, I’ll see you – Sunday? And don’t forget that I am thinking of you today and loving you.
Bye bye dear & love, Mamie.
She also must remind Ernest she's thinking of him and wishes he were there. Looks like they are making plans to see each other again. She's still engaged to Clarence, but she doesn't want ED to go away just yet.
She gets what she wants. He can't bring himself to say goodbye:
November 13, 1918
At home
Aero Squadron A., Riverside, Cal.
Dearest Dear Girl:
I wrote you last night and wrote that I did not at the moment know would I mail it or not. I did not. Gee gee gee, that was an awfully dear letter you wrote, but it sure got me. It made me feel worse than the whirling chair.
I read three letters – one from you, one from an old chum and the other from my sister-in-law. Read theirs in a hurry and wanted to keep yours of all the letters till I had a bit of time alone. Sis said some day someone would address me thus Dear Ernest oof! Chum says that town was wild ditto, as Ontario. Methinks all the towns in the world went wild. It’s certainly great that that hell has burned itself out.
Then I read your loving letter and re-read it several times since. O dearest of girls, ya give a fella an awful thump. O God! O girl! O you, forgive me darn sweetest darling girl. I almost wish I had never seen you, and yet I wouldn’t take the world for having seen you. I am afraid I haven’t added much toward your happiness since I’ve known you dear. But I wanted so much too. Yes, we ought to be engaged. Wish we were. Gee I used to think lots of those lovely things, but I guess it’s bye. Goodbye to the dearest most loving sweetheart an unworthy fellow ever knew. And those laughs and that hair that I was more crazy to have brush into my face (and nestle into) than you know. But g-bye and O sugar!
They informed us the other day that the quarantine was definitely on indefinitely and tighter than before. O Maim’! The more often I see you, the more it hurts me to leave. And were I ever to see you again, I would never let you go! Huh!!! But I want you to be happy to if you care for him so then bye.
But if he ever mistreats you and I find out … I can’t help it. Wish I didn’t love you so much. But I cannot help it. C. has stopped smoking. Guess I’ll start in smoking and ____. Our memory is what we forget with if necessary to forget until I’m an old old Batch and reflect. How you used to thrill me in so many many ways. O Geee whiz. Forgive me, I do not blame you dear. You have added much to my life and have taken (heart shape) away. You couldn’t help it. Such is life and love. But gee it hurts.
About 60 of the bunch are leaving for Honolulu soon. No I’m not in it, but I wish I were.
O Mamie, I can’t say goodbye – xx to you. Guess I’ll just have to do something awful and be confined indefinitely. Gee it’s getting late so goodnight darling and __________.
ED
I don't know about you, but I am kind of getting tired of the sappiness of his letters. I might barf if I hear one more "oh gee" or "darling girl." I just want to tell Mamie to sh*t or get off the pot. Marry Clarence and let poor Ernest go, or dump poor Clarence and make this lovesick, pathetic man happy. Let's get the show on the road, lady. What do ya say? Stop toying with these men. I know you like the attention, but it's not doing anyone any favors. Now that the war is over, what's next for these long-distance lovebirds?
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Tuesday, December 29, 2009
(Photo: March Field, Riverside, CA)
Reading letters from 1918 is a bit like reading a much earlier form of English. Just like reading the Early Modern English of Shakespeare, or even more so, the Middle English of folks like Chaucer, I think the ever-changing language is slowly starting to see a shift from then and now. I can only imagine how the dialect will change by the next century.
After reading the below missives by our fair prince Ernest, one is left thinking, "Huh?" I am confused by much of what he says, except for the continued fawning. Part of it is because I don't know details about the events he speaks of, and part of it is just how he uses language. What I do understand, makes me smile; describing one's self as a "restless bird all aft" is so last century. And I just might have to steal the phrase "all a-jumble." Priceless. Where it gets fuzzy is when he says things like "pussy-footed son of a sea look." Okay, dude. Back up. Slow down. Translate for 2010, buddy. That's all I'm sayin'.
A few points stand out here, as you will see:
1) Mamie is either sick or hurt at the time.
2) Blatant racism in 1918 is tossed around like shiny pennies without a second thought. Ernest uses a word that made me suck in my breath, but he says it like it's an everyday word.
3) Ernest talks about getting letters from Mamie, and I don't have possession them. It finally dawned on me that many of the letters she mailed him somehow were either tossed or misplaced. It would be just like a guy not to keep them in a box like she did. Obviously most of the ones she kept would be from him. That only makes sense. Duh.
4) Ernest writes a letter in a plane!
Happy 2010 everyone. See you in the new year.
Love, The Grammar Nazi
Barracks 3 also Squadron A
March Field
Riverside, Calif.
Nov. 13, 1918
Dearest sweet girl of mine:
Please dear, I’ve tried to write tonight but can’t write as I wish. Tore up letter after letter. It’s 11:45 now. It’s orders to be in bed, but am in the orderly room with the blinds down secretly burning midnight zzzs. And yet guess I’ll have to wait – a million years – till Sat. eve to see you dear. Didn’t get my mail this morn and believe me I was some restless bird all aft. Wondering wondering were you real sick and I know you weren’t happy. O girl of girls I so want you to be. Rec’d your dearest letter this evening. Honey, my thoughts and mind and heart and soul are all a-jumble. Have had several close calls and can crack a joke with death staring me in the face.
Yet tonight I don’t feel like joking. Earlier this eve several of the fellows tried to get me to let them see what I was or wasn’t writing. I told them to chase themselves.
One of them a kike showed me a letter he just got from a girlfriend.
It started out soft as the dickens and finally wanted to ask him a very intimate question. One she had lost sleep and everything over. Wanted the pussy-footed son of a sea look to lay down his friendship and tell her from the bottom of his heart would Jeff ever be as big as [?].
Gee I sure remember sitting there on the sofa with you dear and we saw him when he was. O girl! Girl! O gollie!
What’s that ditty about? If I were where I would be. Then I would be where I am not. But I am not where I want to be. So I must wait till I can be…or something. 1000 years like that.
It’s after 12:00 and I can hear all sorts of noises outside. Snores and snores.
Anyway dear, God bless you little lovely blonde heart, and may the sun shine bright as the dickens for you soon.
Night xx. Night, night and again. God bless you honey and keep you from getting hurt in this cruel world. Xxxxxxxxxx.
With a heart full of love dear, as ever your own.
ED
Aero Sqdrn. A.
November 16, 1918
Riverside Calif.
Dearest Sweetheart:
Am scribbling this in the field. Will not have much time. Am studying to take exam for 1 cls. sergeant. It will be rather a severe one. May not pass, but was recommended, so here goes. Rec’d your dearest of letters yesterday.
Well, here come the ships …
P.S. am writing this bit 3000 ft up over Hemet. It looks so pretty. Couldn’t talk about it to the St. in the rear seat so this. Such a variety of color, autumn leaves, etc. and the clouds and their shadows, the Eucalyptus and the rugged hills and mountains surrounding the whole and grayback with snow on it in the background. We are circling now, all the ships chasing us, we are in the lead. Well, I’ll finish this on the [?] things are so at home. Gee I wish you could see it.
O girlie of mine, tomorrow is Sunday and I can’t see you – wanted to buy a pass but none of the fellows would part for love – or money. I sure feel awfully heart-hungry for you, you, u! Dear sweetheart! Gee but the coming week will seem ages long. And my little girl all crippled up. Dear I hope you are better when this gets there. Oh how I wish I could hold you close and kiss you o so lovingly and tenderly.
So Mable snubbed you. Are you ever so sure girlie? By gollie girls are funny. If a fellow, my chum were to do ditto, I’d just say lovingly hello, ya big stiff, whazza matter? Come on and kick thru. Why, please tell me why? Ah! Mamie, a fellah has gotta forgive lots of things in this world. Sure dear, it does hurt like the dickens – and it’s a queer predicament to get into. One is shocked and doesn’t know what to do. And at the moment forgetting, one’s power to hate is as great as one’s love was before. Huh! O I hope yet the way it happened it seems, well, funny. I hope you have made up. My sis and her chum used to get too thick and then they would get thin again. Then make up, etc.
Don’t honey. I’ll try not to spoil you, and I don’t think you’re spoiled. But I sure love to give sweet things to things sweet. Trouble is one can’t get real extra fine sweets at present. It’s all camouflaged. What was it on the margin of that letter? Wait till I see you dear and I will, again unless. Huh! – unless nothing.
I see they are going to let the fellows out of the army and maybe in quantity and bulk, etc. pretty soon. I don’t know yet what I’ll do. Whether I’d rather go or stay.
I would give a pretty penny to stroll around through the woodies with just you dear. Don’t tease me about making faces at you. Wish I could right now and sniff. There!
I wonder will I tear up this letter and everything and just write another and then tear it up, etc.
That one picture is my sister-in-law where I was Sunday. Well I must do some studying tonight. It seems so quiet in here right now. Most of the fellows are at the Y.A. We had our boisterous singing awhile ago.
Night darling girlie of mine and I just love you o so much!
X. Night.
ED
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Thursday, January 7, 2010
For these two letters, I wrote them the way Ernest wrote them with few changes in grammar. Notice the antiquated use of 'th' in place of an 's.' He uses 'til' instead of 'until,' and 'wif' instead of 'with.' He puts a 't' in place of 'ed.'
In the first letter, he could either be talking about committing a masked crime, or forgetting to wear his gas mask, or something else. I'm not entirely sure. I'm leaning toward NOT crime because our gushy paramour just isn't the type. He seems to need to cover his face so as not to breathe whatever is in the air. Is this a test? And what is the fine for? The war is over, and he's in Riverside. Odd.
I wish I could ask him what Grace said to him when he ran into her unexpectedly! He skipped over the best part of that story, just to return to fawning over Mamie.
In the second letter, he has made a mistake and will no doubt try to make it up to her. Did he forget to call her or see her? That seems unlikely since he's constantly talking about that very thing. He also says he saw her yesterday, so maybe he said something out of turn about Clarence. We'll never know. But soon we will know who wins her heart once and for all.
Enjoy, The Grammar Nazi
P.S. I hope "feeling Jake" is a euphemism for good health and not a new character introduction.
Aero Squadron A.
December 2, 1918, 8:30
March Field
Riverside, Calif.
Deardeardeardearest Mamie –
Was in town this evening and went for my cam. (?) and razor and incidentally was supposed to appear to pay a fine. I guess I was pinched last night. No mask. Ha ha! Lots of fun! Wish you were there. I sure wanted to sell me one. Told them I wath busted. Kidded them! They wanted me to come in this eve. I said I couldn’t. Then they wanted to lock me up. Honeth. Couldn’t find an M.P. They have to turn us over to them, so finally – It was getting late, just in time to make the field – they asked if I had a hanki to put on. Yea, a dirty one alright. When I got outside, I pulled the hank off and pulled out my mask and wore the old thing ‘til I got on the bus.
Oh girl! How I wisht that were you! Honey! that I bumped into at the feed house this evening. Sat down to a big feed and happened to look in the mirror and saw a face that looked like Grace, but I thought, “No, it couldn’t be and dismissed it.”
After awhile, she suddenly tapped me on the shoulder. Oh, if it could only have been sweet you.
We had a smash up in the field this morning. No one hurt. But one more fellow bumped off at the hospital – pneumonia. Otherwise things are as serene ath mud. Only, I ith awfully lonethum. Hope your guests have a heart and are not rushing you dear, and boy oh boy! Hope the folks were not and are not peeved yet.
And O darn it, no fooling, words can’t express how much I love dear sweet you.
Night! Dearest sweetheart, and I hope the world ith still going around 'til I can see my girl. You may be able to stop writing –
But I can’t.
Night night xxxx dearest.
ED
December 2, 1918, 8:30
March Field
Riverside, Calif.
Deardeardeardearest Mamie –
Was in town this evening and went for my cam. (?) and razor and incidentally was supposed to appear to pay a fine. I guess I was pinched last night. No mask. Ha ha! Lots of fun! Wish you were there. I sure wanted to sell me one. Told them I wath busted. Kidded them! They wanted me to come in this eve. I said I couldn’t. Then they wanted to lock me up. Honeth. Couldn’t find an M.P. They have to turn us over to them, so finally – It was getting late, just in time to make the field – they asked if I had a hanki to put on. Yea, a dirty one alright. When I got outside, I pulled the hank off and pulled out my mask and wore the old thing ‘til I got on the bus.
Oh girl! How I wisht that were you! Honey! that I bumped into at the feed house this evening. Sat down to a big feed and happened to look in the mirror and saw a face that looked like Grace, but I thought, “No, it couldn’t be and dismissed it.”
After awhile, she suddenly tapped me on the shoulder. Oh, if it could only have been sweet you.
We had a smash up in the field this morning. No one hurt. But one more fellow bumped off at the hospital – pneumonia. Otherwise things are as serene ath mud. Only, I ith awfully lonethum. Hope your guests have a heart and are not rushing you dear, and boy oh boy! Hope the folks were not and are not peeved yet.
And O darn it, no fooling, words can’t express how much I love dear sweet you.
Night! Dearest sweetheart, and I hope the world ith still going around 'til I can see my girl. You may be able to stop writing –
But I can’t.
Night night xxxx dearest.
ED
December 9, 1918
Dearest Sweetheart:
O boy. What an absent-minded mutt I ith. Pleath forgive. Guess I’ll call you up right away. Oooo girl how I miss you. Hope the bunch are not severe on you dear and that you are feeling Jake.
I muth get busy now. It’s 7:00 AM, and the birdies are just buzzing out on the line.
O girlie, I sure wouldn’t have missed being wif you yesterday for the world. Just to be wif you, even tho we had stayed home. Lots of love for you dearest.
Your loving mutt,
ED
Just sent the film away.
Dearest Sweetheart:
O boy. What an absent-minded mutt I ith. Pleath forgive. Guess I’ll call you up right away. Oooo girl how I miss you. Hope the bunch are not severe on you dear and that you are feeling Jake.
I muth get busy now. It’s 7:00 AM, and the birdies are just buzzing out on the line.
O girlie, I sure wouldn’t have missed being wif you yesterday for the world. Just to be wif you, even tho we had stayed home. Lots of love for you dearest.
Your loving mutt,
ED
Just sent the film away.
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Monday, January 11, 2010
December ?, 1919
Dearest Mamie:
I wonder – when may I see you again? Heavings!
Yes! Honey! But I want to see you. And tell you. Writing is the bunk.
Besides, my writing is all shaky tonight. What is gonna happen? I’m so happy with everything.
O how I wish you were here. Gee!
Mable is singing so beautifully (?) well words won’t express any feelings. She just looked at me and I winked. She is singing now. Only about three paces from here. And well, you know how she can sing. Gee girlie I believe I’m dreaming. Please may they come true. I may have to stop soon. As she is going pretty soon. So dearest dear girl, please forgive me for my very short letter to your long one. Please honey.
Hope things don’t go to swash as they did before. A few times like that and my heart will have burned to a crisp.
And gee, I sure sympathize with you dearest lil darling of mine!
Well, night and I’m gonna call you up and out of bed when Mable has gone.
Oh yes, I received your letter this eve!
Well, I wanted to come, but for your sake, I wouldn’t, as your folks would have found it out and woe to you.
Night x night x night x night x
Your own ED.
Dearest Mamie:
I wonder – when may I see you again? Heavings!
Yes! Honey! But I want to see you. And tell you. Writing is the bunk.
Besides, my writing is all shaky tonight. What is gonna happen? I’m so happy with everything.
O how I wish you were here. Gee!
Mable is singing so beautifully (?) well words won’t express any feelings. She just looked at me and I winked. She is singing now. Only about three paces from here. And well, you know how she can sing. Gee girlie I believe I’m dreaming. Please may they come true. I may have to stop soon. As she is going pretty soon. So dearest dear girl, please forgive me for my very short letter to your long one. Please honey.
Hope things don’t go to swash as they did before. A few times like that and my heart will have burned to a crisp.
And gee, I sure sympathize with you dearest lil darling of mine!
Well, night and I’m gonna call you up and out of bed when Mable has gone.
Oh yes, I received your letter this eve!
Well, I wanted to come, but for your sake, I wouldn’t, as your folks would have found it out and woe to you.
Night x night x night x night x
Your own ED.
I have to compliment you again on ya chum. By gollie. ED.
Ernest is happy. Ernest is shaking. Ernest is scared Mamie might change her mind. Oh how I wish we could read what she said to him! Could it be she has decided to let Clarence go? He says he sympathizes with her, so maybe she has decided to call off her engagement to Clarence and had a hard time doing so. In any case, it looks like Ernest is starting to win that race. It also looks like whatever has happened is still a secret from her parents, and they wouldn't be happy with her decision. If indeed she has decided to just be with Ernest once and for all, what a great way to commemorate such an occasion but with beautiful singing from Mamie's "chum," which I do believe is her sister.
Aero Sqdrn. A Barracks 3
December 17, 1918
March Field
Riverside, Cal.
Dearest little darling of mine:
Received yours the most lovingest letter this noon. O boy! But I was glad, glad to hear from my dearest fiancé again.
‘scuse pencil, am fireman for this section of the barracks for a couple of hours tonight. It’s my turn to shovel coal. Ha ha. Was rather scared for awhile today. We were settling the question of who is to stay here during the holidays. 75 men have to stay. Two men for each hangar (two troubleshooters, guards, fatigue men, etc.) Well one troubleshooter has been sick and away and just came back so he volunteered. And the other got a short straw. We are off from Sat. about noon till 11:00 PM Jan. 2nd. Gee! Yes, a fella kind of hates for a moment to break away from a place where one has been for awhile. And as much as Bertha wants to leave, I’ll bet she stays and stays. Gets in the rut.
Well, Bunny, I wisht your sweet self were here with me. O girl! O girl! But you aren’t. So I guess the rest of the week will just have to d-drag along. It’s getting late again so I’ll shut my eyes for a few hours and forget time. So goodnight. X.
Your own loving ED.
Oh Mamie, every time I write you I think, if I could only write like she does. I always was so bunk at writing. ‘nothing wish. Ha ha. Anyway, I just love you, love you, love you.
ED.
(On the outside of the envelope, it says “Romance isn’t dead yet.”)
December 17, 1918
March Field
Riverside, Cal.
Dearest little darling of mine:
Received yours the most lovingest letter this noon. O boy! But I was glad, glad to hear from my dearest fiancé again.
‘scuse pencil, am fireman for this section of the barracks for a couple of hours tonight. It’s my turn to shovel coal. Ha ha. Was rather scared for awhile today. We were settling the question of who is to stay here during the holidays. 75 men have to stay. Two men for each hangar (two troubleshooters, guards, fatigue men, etc.) Well one troubleshooter has been sick and away and just came back so he volunteered. And the other got a short straw. We are off from Sat. about noon till 11:00 PM Jan. 2nd. Gee! Yes, a fella kind of hates for a moment to break away from a place where one has been for awhile. And as much as Bertha wants to leave, I’ll bet she stays and stays. Gets in the rut.
Well, Bunny, I wisht your sweet self were here with me. O girl! O girl! But you aren’t. So I guess the rest of the week will just have to d-drag along. It’s getting late again so I’ll shut my eyes for a few hours and forget time. So goodnight. X.
Your own loving ED.
Oh Mamie, every time I write you I think, if I could only write like she does. I always was so bunk at writing. ‘nothing wish. Ha ha. Anyway, I just love you, love you, love you.
ED.
(On the outside of the envelope, it says “Romance isn’t dead yet.”)
Did you hear that? FIANCE! What an abrupt shift: Mamie went from Clarence's fiance to Ernest's fiance in a matter of days. Now that he doesn't have to worry about their relationship status, he proceeds to give details about shoveling coal and the vacation status of his mates. Before, he was pining over her as someone else's girl. Now he is free to say, "I just love you, love you, love you." I wonder if the constant gushing will continue, or if he'll be more at ease and subsequently less mushy. In any case, this is a happy day for him. When's the wedding, I wonder?
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Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Newly engaged, Ernest shares an army story with his love:
January 13, 1919
Aero Squadron A. Barracks 3
March Field
Riverside, Calif.
March Field
Riverside, Calif.
At home (heck of a home) Ha ha.
Once more and lonesome so – little blonde kewpie of mine. By gollie I’ve been sitting here a half hour trying to concentrate, but it’s Monday eve of the 13th and I have that on the brain already.
YA mav. (?) just announced there was to be music immediately by the Mission Inn. Burgers and players. Of course I wish like the dickens you dearest were with me. Geeeeeeeee. Hope you are feeling Jake, honey. And I surely appreciate your coming up to the (?) with me. O girl girl that was sweet of you. We were about 25 minutes behind time when we arrived at Riverside, but I sure was glad we were because I was with you that 25 minutes. There were two last busloads of us and we had quite a joy ride. Ours started out last and arrived first. Passed each other six or seven times, and of all the noise. The last time we passed them, the driver just pushed on the steering wheel so excitedly, we sure laughed.
The fellows are having a bit of diversion out of the stunts the rookie guards pull off. Yes there is a sqdrn 311th, mostly privates recruited from this vicinity, and they do funny stuff sometimes. One shot a hole in the YA building last night. Didn’t know how to operate his rifle. There is one stationed on the tower with a revolver, and a fellow had loaned him his gloves; he wanted them, so he yelled up for him to throw them down. Said "rookie." Thought he said "gun," so he tossed his gun down. Such is life with army. Ya don’t know what is gonna happen next – even here. Some of us fellows took our exams just before the holidays. I suppose they will give us our promotions and expect us to stay.
But honey, sweet darling of mine. I have just the biggest longing in my heart to fight in civilian life with you, or rather for you – ha ha. Boy boy I’d sure love to slip up to your window some moonlit night.
Forgive me, but I would. I would. When a fellow is desperately in love with a girl, he wants to do things he shouldn’t. Yet, darn it honey, but my wings feel awfully clipped right now and goodness knows yours do too. Lots and houses of things can happen in a few weeks, so here’s hoping they will!
And darling, if I can help you in any way, say so, even were it against me. Anything to help you. You dear.
It’s late again, so again, dear heart, I bid you a lover’s goodnight.
Tell Zella hello, but don’t tell her but she is some chaperone. Will write again soon and girlie please, please speak your sweet heart out to me. Will you dear? When you write, it helps my own thoughts to extricate themselves from this piece of French ivory in which they are.
Tell Zella hello, but don’t tell her but she is some chaperone. Will write again soon and girlie please, please speak your sweet heart out to me. Will you dear? When you write, it helps my own thoughts to extricate themselves from this piece of French ivory in which they are.
ED
Three things:
1) How does one mistake "rookie" for "gun"? They sound nothing alike.
2) I think it's time I brought "feeling Jake" back into the lexicon. I will make it a point to use it in conversation and see how many weird looks I get.
3) Is it necessary to "slip up" to a girl's window when you're engaged to her? My, how times have changed.
2) I think it's time I brought "feeling Jake" back into the lexicon. I will make it a point to use it in conversation and see how many weird looks I get.
3) Is it necessary to "slip up" to a girl's window when you're engaged to her? My, how times have changed.
Finally, a note from Mamie, even if it is short and somewhat confusing. Does she want him to meet her Saturday or Sunday? Make up your mind!
January 17, 1919
My Ernest Boy –
‘scuse pencil but it is 8:30, and Zella is going to school, so I want to send just a note to my sweetheart.
Yes, dear, come Sunday. I’d say Saturday if I could have my way, but you’d better come Sunday morning. Come Saturday eve to town, and if I can, I’ll meet you there and then if down in time for dinner Sunday (?). Gee I was sure glad to talk to you last night, but as usual, I couldn’t say as much as I wanted to dear.
Has Jimmie come back yet? That’s queer. Well dearie, bye bye till Saturday. I’m going to paint my bedroom floor and wash today and Ma is sick in bed so – help!
Remember dear, I love you always.
Your own Mamie.
Unlike "feeling Jake," I have no desire to bring back the word "queer" as "odd." It just has too much negative connotation. I hereby gladly resign it.
Unlike "feeling Jake," I have no desire to bring back the word "queer" as "odd." It just has too much negative connotation. I hereby gladly resign it.
I wonder when the lovebirds will get married. Did they have long engagements in 1919?
Next up: More from Mamie.
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Thursday, January 28, 2010
Photo: My great-grandfather and his plane.
January 24, 1919
My darling Ernest:
Yes, he came today noon. And he knows something is wrong and begs me to tell him, but I wish to wait a few days until he is sort of settled. But it has spoiled his homecoming, as he noticed it right away. I was in bed and he called up, and I talked to him after Zella had, and I told him I’d send Pa after him. But I dressed and went myself and found him at Candy Land and he came and got in and said “Hello!” and flung a kiss at me and off we started. Neither of us talked all the way down, only a few words, how he came when discharged, etc. Well, there was no more love in our talk or actions than two sticks. I was really hurt because he didn’t take me in his arms and love me a little bit. Ha ha!
I haven’t told you all that makes me sick, dear, for the sake of our not being too familiar yet, but you can guess what it is. My regular sickness you know. Well “C” guessed it right away and asked when I would be well again because he wanted me – you know.
I said, “What if I refuse, Clarence?”
He said, “I will anyway.”
But he wouldn’t do that I’m sure. Because I shall say no! I shall be clean for you! You don’t want a dirty wife, do you? And please dear, every time you write, please ask me to keep clean. It will help me much! Oh so much! To have you back me up.
He hasn’t said a word about getting married or loving me not, and believe me, I haven’t either. He is going to work next week in the Riverside Cannery as a boss. So maybe you’ll see him. Ha! ha! Gee! If I live in Riverside with you, I’ll still be near him. I’ll go to work in the cannery. Ha! Ha! Poor fellow. I’d like to be able to comfort him afterward. But it is all so much easier for me this way.
We went down home, and the folks greeted him heartily and he was very happy, etc. I was awfully sad to see him, but it’s all wrong. So then I took him home and his folks were beside themselves with glee, and we went to town and back and I stayed for supper and Mrs. L said I was getting the flu, and for me to go home to bed and stay there, but she insisted on my staying for supper. So I did.
Before supper “C” asked me what had happened to me to make me feel sad, and I said I couldn’t tell him now, and I would have to tell him later, but I couldn’t right now. So he said he’d try to be happy for my sake, but he was very anxious to know my troubles and to help me if he could. Can he, dear Ernest? Yes, by giving me up!
So he kissed me goodnight (not a long sweet kiss like yours, dear, just a short one – no feeling in it), and oh how I longed for you! I wanted your arms around me and your lips oh so tenderly in a long sweet embrace full of pure love. Dear!!!
I do care a great deal for him yet, and it’s mighty good to have him here again. We act like just old friends more than sweethearts. He sure looks grand with all his trimmings and little cap, and he sure is a handsome fellow too. He weighs 192 pounds, gained seven pounds since he left France. Brought several souvenirs [?] hats, bullets, etc.
But my true love lies buried away in an aviator’s heart in Riverside.
We saw Bess today. She gave me a wink when “C” wasn’t looking, shook her head, and I did also and gritted my teeth. She guesses about the whole affair. Just so no one spills the beans before I do. His momma and he will go to an all-day meeting tomorrow, so I will be alone ‘til night. Oh if only I could spend the day with you! Oh my Ernest love!
Thurs. Eve. – at home
My own dear Ernest, just a note tonight to let you know I am not well. I sure feel rotten tonight. Worry I guess. I have been half crazy since you left. I am sick physically as well as mentally. My stomach is all out of order, and my head aches so, and my throat is getting so sore and swelled, and I am just sick. I’m getting so I can’t eat, only just a tiny bit. I get so hungry I just tremble like I did last Sunday noon. It’s awful. And besides all that, I think and think and wander and worry. Sometimes I think I shall love to give you up, and then next, I’m being kidnapped by you, and then next I’m running away and you after me, and then next I am thinking, “How shall I tell ‘C’, so that he understands?” It’s all a muddle, and he is to come tomorrow. By Sunday at least, so I can see you Sunday dear. And Mabel’s quarantined with the flu, and you and I shall be lonely for each other, and I will go nearly wild and I’m afraid of “C.” ‘nough said.
I sewed all day – got all my curtains done. Sure look swell. Little white ones and real old and gray for over drapes. Wish you were here to enjoy it with me. Well, you call me up Saturday night about 9:30, or Sunday night dear. I want to hear your voice. Next week is so long. Yes, get a 30-day pass and we’ll fly.
Your own Mamie.
Dear readers, on the one hand, I feel sorry for Clarence. He returns home from war and is unknowingly about to lose his girl (such a typical tale). On the other hand, if she decides not to sleep with him after her "regular sickness" passes, he won't take no for an answer? There is more than a hint of a-hole there.
The way she describes it (and in more detail than Ernest really needs to know, I might add), they are more friends than lovers now, and her heart is unquestionably with Ernest. We are more sure of this than ever. So why does she insist on throwing jabs at Ernest about Clarence still? Threatening to work at the cannery, albeit in a joking manner, is mean. She never ceases to be a tease who undoubtedly hurts poor Ernest by telling him she was disappointed Clarence didn't show her more love when he got home. It seems more that she wants the attention than she actually wants Clarence.
Despite the excessive detail that can only make Ernest shudder, it's interesting to note that she is able to tell him anything. Not having to hide her life and emotions is a good sign their relationship will last after Clarence is let down. She dreads having to tell Clarence; who wouldn't? Hurting someone is almost as painful as being hurt - almost.
I laughed at her description of Clarence kissing her: He kissed me, but it meant nothing and wasn't passionate, not like when I kiss you. Clarifying isn't going to make Ernest less jealous. That she brought it up in the first place makes me continue to think she wants him to be jealous. You already told him you are going to marry him, Mamie. You can cease the game-playing!
Another sign of the times: Having sex with one man, a man you were supposedly going to marry, would make her a "dirty wife." Ernest, you better keep telling her to stay away from Clarence because if you don't help her, she might succumb to her desires, or so she says.
Take her flying and tell her to stop messing with your head! And Mamie, just get it over with and tell clueless Clarence what's up.
Love, The Grammar Nazi
January 24, 1919
My darling Ernest:
Yes, he came today noon. And he knows something is wrong and begs me to tell him, but I wish to wait a few days until he is sort of settled. But it has spoiled his homecoming, as he noticed it right away. I was in bed and he called up, and I talked to him after Zella had, and I told him I’d send Pa after him. But I dressed and went myself and found him at Candy Land and he came and got in and said “Hello!” and flung a kiss at me and off we started. Neither of us talked all the way down, only a few words, how he came when discharged, etc. Well, there was no more love in our talk or actions than two sticks. I was really hurt because he didn’t take me in his arms and love me a little bit. Ha ha!
I haven’t told you all that makes me sick, dear, for the sake of our not being too familiar yet, but you can guess what it is. My regular sickness you know. Well “C” guessed it right away and asked when I would be well again because he wanted me – you know.
I said, “What if I refuse, Clarence?”
He said, “I will anyway.”
But he wouldn’t do that I’m sure. Because I shall say no! I shall be clean for you! You don’t want a dirty wife, do you? And please dear, every time you write, please ask me to keep clean. It will help me much! Oh so much! To have you back me up.
He hasn’t said a word about getting married or loving me not, and believe me, I haven’t either. He is going to work next week in the Riverside Cannery as a boss. So maybe you’ll see him. Ha! ha! Gee! If I live in Riverside with you, I’ll still be near him. I’ll go to work in the cannery. Ha! Ha! Poor fellow. I’d like to be able to comfort him afterward. But it is all so much easier for me this way.
We went down home, and the folks greeted him heartily and he was very happy, etc. I was awfully sad to see him, but it’s all wrong. So then I took him home and his folks were beside themselves with glee, and we went to town and back and I stayed for supper and Mrs. L said I was getting the flu, and for me to go home to bed and stay there, but she insisted on my staying for supper. So I did.
Before supper “C” asked me what had happened to me to make me feel sad, and I said I couldn’t tell him now, and I would have to tell him later, but I couldn’t right now. So he said he’d try to be happy for my sake, but he was very anxious to know my troubles and to help me if he could. Can he, dear Ernest? Yes, by giving me up!
So he kissed me goodnight (not a long sweet kiss like yours, dear, just a short one – no feeling in it), and oh how I longed for you! I wanted your arms around me and your lips oh so tenderly in a long sweet embrace full of pure love. Dear!!!
I do care a great deal for him yet, and it’s mighty good to have him here again. We act like just old friends more than sweethearts. He sure looks grand with all his trimmings and little cap, and he sure is a handsome fellow too. He weighs 192 pounds, gained seven pounds since he left France. Brought several souvenirs [?] hats, bullets, etc.
But my true love lies buried away in an aviator’s heart in Riverside.
We saw Bess today. She gave me a wink when “C” wasn’t looking, shook her head, and I did also and gritted my teeth. She guesses about the whole affair. Just so no one spills the beans before I do. His momma and he will go to an all-day meeting tomorrow, so I will be alone ‘til night. Oh if only I could spend the day with you! Oh my Ernest love!
Thurs. Eve. – at home
My own dear Ernest, just a note tonight to let you know I am not well. I sure feel rotten tonight. Worry I guess. I have been half crazy since you left. I am sick physically as well as mentally. My stomach is all out of order, and my head aches so, and my throat is getting so sore and swelled, and I am just sick. I’m getting so I can’t eat, only just a tiny bit. I get so hungry I just tremble like I did last Sunday noon. It’s awful. And besides all that, I think and think and wander and worry. Sometimes I think I shall love to give you up, and then next, I’m being kidnapped by you, and then next I’m running away and you after me, and then next I am thinking, “How shall I tell ‘C’, so that he understands?” It’s all a muddle, and he is to come tomorrow. By Sunday at least, so I can see you Sunday dear. And Mabel’s quarantined with the flu, and you and I shall be lonely for each other, and I will go nearly wild and I’m afraid of “C.” ‘nough said.
I sewed all day – got all my curtains done. Sure look swell. Little white ones and real old and gray for over drapes. Wish you were here to enjoy it with me. Well, you call me up Saturday night about 9:30, or Sunday night dear. I want to hear your voice. Next week is so long. Yes, get a 30-day pass and we’ll fly.
Your own Mamie.
Dear readers, on the one hand, I feel sorry for Clarence. He returns home from war and is unknowingly about to lose his girl (such a typical tale). On the other hand, if she decides not to sleep with him after her "regular sickness" passes, he won't take no for an answer? There is more than a hint of a-hole there.
The way she describes it (and in more detail than Ernest really needs to know, I might add), they are more friends than lovers now, and her heart is unquestionably with Ernest. We are more sure of this than ever. So why does she insist on throwing jabs at Ernest about Clarence still? Threatening to work at the cannery, albeit in a joking manner, is mean. She never ceases to be a tease who undoubtedly hurts poor Ernest by telling him she was disappointed Clarence didn't show her more love when he got home. It seems more that she wants the attention than she actually wants Clarence.
Despite the excessive detail that can only make Ernest shudder, it's interesting to note that she is able to tell him anything. Not having to hide her life and emotions is a good sign their relationship will last after Clarence is let down. She dreads having to tell Clarence; who wouldn't? Hurting someone is almost as painful as being hurt - almost.
I laughed at her description of Clarence kissing her: He kissed me, but it meant nothing and wasn't passionate, not like when I kiss you. Clarifying isn't going to make Ernest less jealous. That she brought it up in the first place makes me continue to think she wants him to be jealous. You already told him you are going to marry him, Mamie. You can cease the game-playing!
Another sign of the times: Having sex with one man, a man you were supposedly going to marry, would make her a "dirty wife." Ernest, you better keep telling her to stay away from Clarence because if you don't help her, she might succumb to her desires, or so she says.
Take her flying and tell her to stop messing with your head! And Mamie, just get it over with and tell clueless Clarence what's up.
Love, The Grammar Nazi
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Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Ontario, California
January 27, 1919
At Home
My Own Ernest Boy:
I wish I could see you right now, but Clarence is coming tonight, so perhaps you wouldn’t enjoy yourself very much. I have so much to say, but I can’t write it dear. I want you to be sure and come over next Saturday afternoon and evening. I will say this much tonight dear. I have told all to Clarence. I told him I loved you and wanted you for my husband, and oh, it hurt him, but he was so nice to me, and he said he knew he hadn’t treated me like a gentleman should treat “a little lady” and was awfully sorry, but he had realized that his love for me was the very deepest, only after he had left me. He said if it hadn’t been for me, he would have stayed in France in the Secret Service, but his longing for me made him come home, expecting to make a happy home for me.
He called himself a “caveman” because he had been rude to me, and also said that if I decided to marry him, he knew he could make me happy and would give me the deepest love in the world, but he said he would willingly give me up to you if I loved you the best, and would try to forget, but he would never cease loving me and would never marry. But he said his sole thought was to see me happy. I told him I could marry him and do all in my power to make him a happy home, but I could never forget Ernest. And I said I can marry Ernest and never forget him. He told me that it was all up to me, and he wanted to do the right thing. Oh, he is so good and unselfish, just like you!
Now what shall I do? I want to see you Saturday and talk things only with you dear. I love you oh so dearly, and I hate to lose you, and I want to do right by “C” now that he has been so true to me. He promises never to “touch” me until married, and believe me, that’s a whole lot for him to say when he is so “strong.” He had resolved that soon after we parted six months ago, and I know he will stand by his promise.
Now my dear boy heart of mine, don’t feel blue and sad dear. I want you to be happy because remember, I haven’t said I would choose Clarence yet, and I love you better than anyone else in the world. So have good cheer and think about next Saturday night.
I’m feeling a little better tonight. My throat is awful sore and swelled and mighty uncomfortable, but it will soon be OK. Thanks dear for calling me up, and I wish I could talk more like I want to, to you over the phone, but there are so many “ears.”
Mable is well and will be home Wednesday. Agnes is home and called me up tonight. I am anxious to talk to Mable. And you! “C” hasn’t come yet, and it’s 8:00. Never arrive on time. Ha ha! But he always makes up for it.
Well dearie, I’ll kiss you goodnight and with my sweetest love. I am yours. Come Saturday. Your own Mamie.
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Thursday, February 11, 2010
So Mamie told Clarence everything about Ernest, and yet, he was still coming to visit her. What's next? You guessed it: She's now calling Ernest her husband. Surely they didn't get married since the last letter three days ago. Let's see:
January 30, 1919
My own dearest husband:
Just a note tonight, as I am freezing to death now. I have been sewing tonight, making some very interesting things. Ha! Ha! But while I was sewing, I was also thinking very hard. I do lots of that lately, and it doesn’t get me any place either. Same old thoughts all the time. I am so anxious to see you Saturday. I can hardly wait. I know we will feel like never leaving each other again. I have longed for you all the time, even thought I have been with “C”. The folks accused of us of doing bad things last night and you know our promises and you know also that we wouldn’t break it. They got pretty sore about it. He stayed till 10:30 last night, and they thought it was 2:30 I guess. They still think we would do those things, but __!
I wish we weren’t going to have company Sunday. I want to be with you you you! All day! But I will have to help get dinner and entertain “the gang,” and “C” wants me to go to Pomona at night, and I don’t want to because his folks are going, and I’d lots rather be with you, dearest. We will be together Saturday afternoon and eve anyway, and we will have to make up for lost time. Oh! I want you so! I can just feel myself held close in your arms right now, and your sweetest of kisses!
Mable is home, but haven’t seen her. Agnes was here today awhile.
Bye-bye till Saturday. Come just as early as possible.
Your own Mamie.
January 31, 1919
Dearest Hubby of Mine:
When you get to Ontario Saturday call me up, and I’ll come up to meet you so we can go to LA through, and save all the time it would take for you to come way down here. Will you, dear? This is just a tiny note. I’m just getting up. Ha ha! And Zella is going to school. She is to mail this. I am fine dearest, and oh so happy, and thank you so much for calling me up last night. I always feel 100% better after I talk to you dear. You are so good to me! And I love you so much darling.
Well, bye-bye dear until I see you Saturday. We can get a fair start from here if we do that way dear. Can’t we, dear?
Bye bye sweetheart and all my love,
Your lil wifey chum.
Oh we will have a glorious time alone together, won’t we?
Okay, so it looks like Clarence gets weekdays and Ernest gets weekends. When will that stop? When she's officially married to Ernest? Soon, I hope. I want my great-grandparents to stop living in limbo and get on with it. Clarence's days are numbered. He better enjoy his time while he has it.
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Tuesday, February 16, 2010
This past weekend, we celebrated my grandfather's 86th birthday. I asked him about Granny's parents (Mamie and Ernest), and he mentioned that Mamie and Clarence continued to see each other even after Granny was born in 1926. They'd go on picnics with their kids, without Ernest. I will always wonder if that arrangement was merely friendly, of if it was something else. My grandparents are suspicious. My grandfather said a few days ago, "She really was in love with both of them at the same time." That reality is no more evident than in the letters to Ernest below.
The thought has crossed my mind more than once, and more so now, that I almost didn't exist. Really. It was so close to never happening. It's a miracle that I am here writing this blog right now. My existence is, among other reasons, was at the whim of a young girl in love with two men. Imagine if she could have imagined the chain reaction of her decisions. Imagine if we could all foresee what our decisions would cause.
Up until now, I have been frustrated with Mamie's indecision, but these letters below actually made me angry. If I were Ernest, this is about when I would have given up, but I'm so glad he didn't because I would never have been here if he would have walked away like any other crushed man would have.
February 4, 1919
Dear boy, don’t get your furlough yet, please. “The worm has turned” and we will have to wait – indefinitely. Clarence wants another chance and says he can’t give me up. So dear, let’s wait for awhile. Pa won’t concede yet. I’m sorry, dear, as you are. I am up town now. “C” is down home helping Pa with the cesspool. I got your letter today and was sure glad. I hope “sis” is happy. Maybe you better not come tomorrow, dear. I’m crazy to see you, but wait till I let you know how things are coming out. I’ll try to be as happy as possible and same to you, dear. I hope to see you soon tho. Heard from Wallace and Mable too. Gee!
We’ll say bye bye now till later. I am yours.
Mamie
February 8, 1919
Thurs. Night 10:30 at Home
My Ernest Boy!
How you must be hating me, dear. If I could only see you, I could explain things and then pray that you would not despise me for what I have done. My heart aches for you heavy and I could go and die rather than to break your heart. But, the folks are behind all of it – telling “C” not to give up, etc., and of course he really didn’t want to give me up, but would have done it if I chose you after he had had another chance to win me back. Oh! I can’t write it all! I’ve got to see you some way! And the folks have forbidden me to see you again. Isn’t that unfair for you tho?!!! They are so mean now-a-days. They say sarcastic things all the time, and I go nearly crazy. Clarence is awfully good to me tho. He treats me like a queen and is so glad that I have given him a chance. He went to LA today and brought me a sweet little diamond ring. Not as large as yours tho, but his whole love is behind it anyway. He hasn’t much money now. Will have to go to work soon. Dear, I’m too slight to write anymore tonight, and I have lots to do tomorrow. I hope dearie that you are not too broken up that you would cease loving me because you know that it isn’t my fault and that I still love you as a husband. Even tho I shall probably have to go to Clarence after all. Oh! Oh! Oh! I will have to return your beautiful ring too, and oh, it will hurt me and you too. I want to visit you soon tho. Night dear and with lots of love, yours.
Mamie
My question is this: Why do Mamie's parents want her to choose Clarence and not Ernest? Why don't they see him as a viable mate for their daughter? At first I thought maybe it was money, but then she even says he's broke.
So many questions! She is feeling serious pressure from all sides, but why would she tell Ernest about Clarence getting her a ring and treating her like a queen? Unknowingly cruel little girl.
Now I'm really curious how she's going to turn things around and marry Ernest after all. The back-and-forth just never seems to end.
Now I'm really curious how she's going to turn things around and marry Ernest after all. The back-and-forth just never seems to end.
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Monday, February 22, 2010
The above photo is of my great grandmother Mamie (sitting on the horse) with her family in Wisconsin (early 1900s.)
This letter is attached to the previous one in the same envelope, but it looks like a continuation of the last one with no date on it and no greeting, so I'm not quite sure when it was written. I do know it's in the same couple days because the next one later in February expresses a turn of events. This one, however, is focused on how much Mamie will miss Ernest, and how she still plans to marry Clarence, mainly from the pressures of her father. I'm still not sure why he wants her to marry Clarence instead of Ernest, but her parents are adamant, as you'll see.
Mamie seems to be resigning herself to her supposed future, and she's naive to believe her troubles will be over if she marries Clarence and moves out of her parents' house. If she thinks she'll forget about Ernest once the paperwork is signed, she's mistaken. It's the same if she marries Ernest. She can't just wash her hands of her feelings for Clarence, if they are indeed as strong as she says they are. Can she?
I find it very interesting what she says to Ernest about their future as pen pals (and maybe more from afar).
I keep thinking about how she referred to her relationship with Clarence since he came back from the war as more friendly than romantic. It makes me want to go back in time and knock down her door and scream, "Don't do it!"
Luckily for me (and Ernest, of course), she changes her mind. What causes her to do so? Maybe we'll find out at the end of February 1919, but first, enjoy this correspondence:
Feb. 8(?), 1919
There are a lot of hard things in this world, and we have to get used to them as we grow older! I feel about 20 years older now than I did a month or two ago. I only wish you could forget me and be happy again. I can see you now as you were last Saturday night. Oh! You were so happy dear, and so was I, but our fair castles have fallen down and crushed into the ground!
I hate to close things this way, for your sake dear. Clarence wants to give you a fair chance – but the folks absolutely shut down on having anyone else come to see me except “C”, and just because they would lie awake at night and worry. “C” is highly disgusted with them for making such rules, but what can we do? Pa said the other day that he would consent to no other marriage, only to Clarence, and that if I married you without his consent, we would wish we were in “hell with our backs broken.” He said he’d make trouble for us as long as he or we lived. Isn’t that a nice way to do? And yet he called Clarence a “son of a bitch” the other day. Not to his face, but to mine. He said he’d shoot the son of a bitch if he ever caught him at his old tricks. We can’t seem to make them believe that we have reformed. Oh it hurts me to have them say such mean things about men I love so dearly, and I don’t dare say a word. They would knock me flat if I did. I will be glad when I can have a home of my own and nobody to quarrel and fight with. It’s not far off. We probably won’t get married for a few months yet because he will not have much money to start in on yet.
How long does your furlough last, dear? Or did you go back to camp? I don’t know where to address your letter. Camp, I guess.
Ernest dear, will you promise me one thing? That you will write to me same as ever, only perhaps not so often. I shall cherish every word of the letter you write dear, and I shall always want to know all about your life and what and where you will be after you finish army life. Dear, will you promise me that? Please!
I will try to be part your wife anyway, dear, even though we will not be united in marriage. I shall always feel that I partly belong to you, and I shall always be interested in your affairs and welfare.
I shall keep all the pictures too, dear. I’ve got several framed and on the wall in my room, so you see, I have not tried to hide you from me. Well dearest, it’s getting late and I’ve got plenty to do tomorrow to get ready for that gang Sunday. I could talk to you all night if you were here, but it’s hard to write things I want to say.
I guess it is all said, I mean, my feelings are expressed in that song, “It’s Never Too Late to be Sorry.” And God knows I’m sorry for you, dear! It will be sweet memories of the past. Won’t it, dear? Our short, but beautiful romance! We were so happy, you and I, but now I feel like I could cry because I hate to lose you. I’m so used to you now.
I’ll say goodnight before I do break down dear. I’m trying to be brave for your sake, and if only you can forgive me, dear boy, it won’t be so hard then. Can you?
Your lost little wife, Mamie.
XXXXXXX
I can feel your sweet, tender, loving kisses now and forever! Oh! Oh! Oh!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Harvey House, Valton, WI, 1918 (Mamie's birthplace)
Thank you to my distant cousin, Jeanne, who found my blog and sent me photos.
Ontario, California
Feb. 25, 1919
My own dearest love:
I hope you can ever forgive me for pestering you with my letters after I am supposed to forget you, but if your heart aches like mine, I’m afraid you’d want more than a letter.
Ernest, I am the unhappiest girl in the US. I ought to be the happiest, but never will I be happy until I am Mrs. Ernest A. Detmers. So there! Please don’t think me bold dear, will you? It is just because I love you better than my own soul, and I believe that. You still love me as much, even though you don’t write to me. Dear, if you do still love me enough to be my husband, for God’s sake, tell me! Because there is a chance now for me to go with you, if you still want me. Do you, dear? God knows how I need you! I can’t think of anything else since you’ve gone. I see you all the time, here, with me. I hear your voice always speaking tenderly to me. And I want it all forever! I am most unhappy with Clarence, and he knows it and he isn’t happy about it either. He said, “Mamie, I know you still love Ernest the best, and if you will say the word, I’ll give you up.”
That was Saturday night. I told him you had gone and probably would never come back. He said he was sure you would if I would tell you about it. So dear, I am telling you that here is the chance. We can live over, again, that wonderful Saturday night when I told you I would be yours!
He said that if I couldn’t be true to him six months, I wouldn’t be true to him a lifetime because I don’t love him enough. He said he would give me another chance to show my trust, and if I failed, he would never wish to see me again. We have postponed the wedding indefinitely. Perhaps a year or more. Thank goodness! We’ve had some hot old arguments here lately, and he claims all the time that he is altogether right. Of course, as usual, I am always wrong. I know I have made a fool of myself in most people’s minds, but the majority have a little sympathy. Mable, for instance, still sticks by you, dear, and always will, and so will I. Always!
The folks say lately that it’s absolutely up to me. Pa said he would give his consent to you now, if I felt that you were the one. And I know you are dear. With all my heart. I can always be true to you because I love you. And dear, I feel that I always have been true to you. I chose Clarence against my true feeling, but only out of a sort of duty to him. I wish now that I had stayed by my first choice. I have in my heart, dear. These three weeks have been agony for me, and they have seemed about 3,000 years.
My darling boy, has it been agony for you too dear? I would have spared you all the pain if I had only realized that my love was all for you. I was so upset and so near all in that I wasn’t capable of doing the task set before me dear, and since then, I have realized the mistake. Dear, I love you with all the life and soul and heart in my body, and I’m yours if you want me.
Mamie
Isn't it always the case that we realize how much we love someone when we understand on a gut level we may have lost him? In Mamie's case, it was a fun little game until Ernest suddenly went silent and had had enough of her back-and-forth nonsense. He made the right move. He backed off. Bravo, Ernest! You really do know how to get the girl after all. Make her sweat a tad. Take the driver's seat. Make her beg for you to come back. That's better than pining for her while she stares at two different diamond rings and acts as though she wants to keep both of them. How long will he make her wait?
Side note: I found out that Mabel is a close friend of Mamie's. I thought she might possible be family, but she's not. Later you'll read a letter Mabel sends to Ernest about Mamie choosing Clarence. It's a great way to get an outsider's perspective on the situation.
Your friend,
The Grammar Nazi
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Saturday, March 6, 2010
Harvey Farm - 1918
Feb. 25, 1919
Gee, dearie, I looked for you over at Arcadia Saturday until I almost fainted, but I didn’t see you. Randall Duell (sp?) said he’d seen you, and was just going to speak to you when this fellow started giving orders about the balloon. He said you were helping put a balloon away. Oh if only I could have seen you, dear!
Clarence wasn’t with me. I went with the folks and met Bessie McC. and we bummed around all afternoon together. Most of the time, we were on the south side of grounds. She asked where you were. Jimmie said you hadn’t been in camp for about three weeks. I said, “I don’t know and I wish I did.” I can’t stand it much longer, dear. What a wonderful honeymoon we could have had if only – ! Well, it isn’t too late yet, is it dear? I’m afraid your furlough will end too quickly now. I don’t know where you are, dear. I forget your Los Angeles address, and you must not be in camp, or surely you would write to me. I can’t believe you have said goodbye for good, unless you despise me, and if you do, then I’ve made a big fool of myself. But I love you anyway, dear. Please dear. Write to me, and tell me the way you feel, and if you still love me. I am almost yours. Haha! I wish.
Honestly, I wish. I cannot be happy without you, dear. Never! Can you?
Honestly, I wish. I cannot be happy without you, dear. Never! Can you?
I feel better now, since I have told you all about everything. I feel that you surely will come back to me and I will try so hard to help you forget the past, and I will try so hard to make the future a happy one for you. And if you are happy, then I am too. See dear? Will you come, dear?
If you answer with a “yes,” I will tell you more about my plans, and then you will soon hold me close in a sweet, tender embrace. Oh! I can’t wait!
I’m ready any time. Gee! Some people will sure be surprised, believe me! Did we once say romance, boy dear?
I’m going to sleep tonight, and not cry, for I feel your answer, and I shall wear my (your) ring all night. I wore it to Arcadia in hopes of seeing you, but I didn’t, although your spirit was with me.
Goodnight dearest, and please write as soon as possible. I am always your own true “wifey chum.”
Night dear, and lots of kisses. Real ones too.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Oh, if only I could kiss your dear lips right now a million times and more.
Sweetheart mine!
Mamie
(Ernest’s address on the envelope: 3576 Lonfranco St., Los Angeles, CA)
Wednesday Eve
Feb. 26, 1919
Oh my darling Ernest!
How happy I was today when your sweet long looked for letter came. I could have eaten you up if you had been here! Oh! I am so glad you still love me and want me, dear. I feel sure now that in a short time, I can be happy, and what I want most is for you to be happy. I want “C” to be happy too, but of course, he won’t if I leave him. That is, for awhile anyway. I wish I could see you and talk to you again, dear. Maybe we can now. Won’t you call me up some time soon, dear, please! I want to hear you speak, even though it be over the telephone. I wish you could be here with me tomorrow night, dear, as the folks will be in Whittier until the next day – night perhaps, and Zella will be here alone.
I could sure enjoy life then, believe me! Living in your arms! Please God!
I am looking at the different little lights in my – your diamond. Blue-green-orange-red-yellow-white-purple and oh, they are so very pretty!
Oh, I’m sleepy! And sort of contented. This letter is very short, but I want to dream most of the time, and first thing I know, it’s late and no letter finished. I wish I could dream. I’d try my luck at it. That’s a dandy picture, but please draw one that isn’t so sad – next time, dearie. Ha! Ha!
When can you get another furlough? Ha! Ha!
The folks (or 40 Redskins) were gone today, all day, and I was alone – with you. “C” called up and said he had a tooth pulled and it is all ulcerated, and he can’t come over and everything. I haven’t seen him since Sunday night. We had a fight Sunday night, and I wouldn’t kiss him goodnight, and he went home at 9:00 o’clock.
Oh, I guess the best way is to get in the Dodge and run into the train.
There I go dreaming again. I’m going to bed and sleep again. So, ‘night dearest, and please take the wire out of your precious heart, and I will love the pieces together, and then it won’t ever break again, dearie.
I hope to see you soon, dear, to be really close to you again. “I love you more for losing you awhile.”
Night sweetheart hubby,
Your own “wifey chum,”
Mamie
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Mable will be glad, won’t she, dear, to know that we have “made up.”
Posted by Facebanned at 9:59 AM
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Here's a photo of my grandma's family at the end of the 20s/beginning of the 30s. My grandma is the little blond girl in the top row, fourth from the left. Mamie, her mom, is third from the left.
If Mamie would have married Clarence, this photo would look much different.
Below is an outsider's perspective: an outsider who is one of Mamie's closest friends. Girlfriends always know what's best for you and have enough perspective to see what's really going on. Mabel hasn't yet found out that Mamie has decided to be with Ernest after all, so this is her sad letter to Ernest about Mamie and Clarence.
Feb. 26, 1919
Dear Ernest:
I’m just going to drop you a line now to let you know that I’m coming to March Field the 28th this Friday night to give a program, and I sincerely hope that you’re in camp and that I’ll see you.
I’ve intended writing to you for some time, but I’m so busy right now. Ernest, Mamie wrote to me and told me some, but not all. I can’t understand, Ernest, why things turned out as they did. I’m only praying Mamie won’t marry Clarence right away, and if she doesn’t, I’m quite sure she never will.
Ernest, Mamie loves you more than Clarence or anyone else in the world, and it’s awful wrong to marry someone else. Ernest, let me tell you that you have my deepest sympathy, and my heart aches for you, for I know what a heartache real love can cause. It’s indescribable. Ernest, just hope, pray and trust God, and I believe things will come out all right even yet.
I haven’t time to write anymore, Ernest, but do take courage. My heartache can never be remedied. At least I can see no possible remedy now, as I knew not the real love until it was too late. Oh! I don’t want Mamie to suffer the heartache I have. I know she still longs for you, and she said in her last letter she did so want to see you that she was in LA and looked for you all the time, and even she said when she’s with Clarence, she’s thinking of you, and it’s different when she’s with you. Such cannot go on.
I hope you’re back to camp, and you’ll be at the YMCA Friday night. I’m to sing at the hospital first, and I’ll be at the YM about 6:30 or 6:45.
With sincerest regards and deepest sympathy,
Mabel
842 W. 40th Place
Los Angeles, Cal.
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Thursday, March 18, 2010
This one speaks for itself. The reference to a cow is a nice touch:
Feb. 29, 1919
Oh Ernest Darling! I have just told Clarence goodbye, and I am free again. It was hard, but he understood and told me to tell you that it was okay with him. He felt terribly bad, but said he’d be happy if I could, and I said I could, so it is all okay now. I had a talk with the folks this morning, and they said they would gladly give their consent – to you. Come dear and let’s be happy as we were that eve three weeks ago.
Come over Saturday night or Sunday early, if you can, and then I’ll know that you are really my husband.
I must try to get some sleep, as I have to milk the cow in the morn. Folks are gone ‘til Friday night.
Night dearest and loads of love.
Your “wifey chum,”
Mamie
Posted by Facebanned at
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Here's another letter from Mabel in the fall of 1920. What I find most important about this gossipy letter is that Mabel is pregnant, and Mamie has already had her first child, my grandma's sister Onah.
My great-grandparents had five children together: Onah Mable Detmers, Doris Marie Detmers Valterga, Donal Maynard Detmers, Jack Bayer Detmers, and Zella Patricia Detmers Drysdale (my grandma).
When my grandma talks about her childhood with four siblings, I envision Our Gang. These little rascals got into plenty of trouble, sometimes at the expense of poor Onah. Children can be cruel without realizing just how cruel they are. Onah was in a wheelchair. The stories that stick out in my mind about her are when her siblings left her in a neighbor's yard with a pile of oranges from the neighbor's tree sitting in her lap, as if she'd picked them; worse, my grandma said they used to put her wheelchair on train tracks and tease her that they were going to leave her there. They didn't, of course, but the trauma must have been overwhelming for that little girl.
The story I like much better is the one in which Mamie took her children out of school to go to the beach. Apparently this happened on multiple occasions. They wouldn't tell their father, Ernest, keeping their hooky playing a secret.
My grandma always says, "My mom was so much fun." Surprisingly, she says Ernest was a strict father. You'd never know it from these letters.
Los Angeles, Calif.
Sept. 22, 1920
My Dear Mamie:
I received your letter some time ago and also received the jar of figs in just fine shape. Thanks ever so much. They surely do look nice. I’m going to save them until later on.
We have been having real summer weather again for 2 or 3 days. Today however it is cloudy and cool again. Sunday we went for a little ride and it was so hot we didn’t enjoy anything.
Well I’m looking anxiously forward to the time when you folks are coming down. Be sure and come to see us. We haven’t an extra bed here, but the landlady has a little room upstairs all furnished nicely and she hasn’t rented it all summer so if it isn’t rented then, which isn’t likely, I’ll want you to stay at least one night and as long as you can.
I have been sewing a little here lately. Have a pink bluebird crepe night gown almost finished.
I suppose you saw that Vernice Kistner died. It was very, very sad. They phoned and wanted me so bad that I went out and sang for the funeral. She was operated on for ingrown goitre at the Pomona Hospital on Thursday, but she was too weak before they had it done, so died on Monday, Labor Day. She was in the same condition as Judge Pollock and you know he had an awful hard sight to live at all. The family seemed to think so much of Vernice and Glyda, just that Vernice was the only one. Glyda wrote me since and she said it just couldn’t be true, that she wake up and find it wasn’t true. We can’t always understand and know what’s best.
You know Warren Wass? Such a funny looking fellow. He married Marie Podrasnik. She sure has terrible looks too, but she has the money. Seems a rather funny match.
Well I guess I’ll have to tell you the news at our house. I haven’t told anyone but the relatives. I’m preparing a little baby layette at my house for a little angel that’s coming early next April. We’re as happy as can be now.
Right at first I didn’t want it, for I had such a bright opportunity this fall in music here, but I decided we never could be quite ready so now was the time. I’ve been real well. Have been some sick in the mornings but not as bad I guess to what some women are. I am taking general osteopathic treatment twice a week for a woman doctor here and I feel I’ll just get along fine. She says these treatments will help me a great deal at the last. I’ve always heard these treatments were good. Sarah advised it oh! so much. She said she had so much easier time.
I haven’t many things made yet but have plenty on hand to do. Aunt Nell and Leona both said they had some second-hand things I could have. Both their babies have outgrown a number of things already. Because they’ve been worn some and washed doesn’t hurt them one bit.
I went down town yesterday and Mrs. Stewart phoned. She wanted me so badly to come down and they got me a lovely big coat to wear this winter and also some blue silk for a dress. They got Leona the same things – coat and dress. But I never thought of them getting anything for me. My coat is a soft mixture material of dark blue and gray and is very pretty.
Mother came in a week ago yesterday and canned some prunes for me and made butter too and a few pickles. I sure did appreciate it too.
I saw Pearl Paxson in L.A. last Friday. She doesn’t look like the same girl. Her skin is so clear and her eyes so bright, and she’s very much thinner. She had an operation, you know, for female trouble. I don’t know if they removed the uterus or not, but Pearl said the Dr. said it was infantile uterus. It had never grown. Then the appendix was very much affected. She’s had two attacks of appendicitis you know some time ago. Then there was about four inches of her intestine that was decayed and poisoned. The Dr. said she couldn’t have lived very long with that. The poison was going all through her system. She says she never had a headache since the operation and before that, she wasn’t free from one for five years. She says she feels like she’s walking on air, she feels so well.
You probably know Gordon has a baby boy. They call it Gordon Donald. I sure don’t like the idea of calling the baby exactly after the parents. Use it for a middle name is all right, but not full name like that.
I suppose you haven’t taken any pictures of the baby yet. I’m so anxious to have one to look at once in a while.
Harold is well and busy. He hopes to sell out that business any day now. My! I’ll sure be glad when he does.
There are a bunch of men down there that aren’t worth a snap of your little finger and haven’t any honor about them. Harold has just been lucky not to lose all he had in that place. When he gets out he doesn’t know what he’ll do, but I hope, at least, he can get into something a little more decent and decent people to work for. We hope to buy a house when he sells and we get a little money. This place is so small. We haven’t a place to put anything.
There are a bunch of men down there that aren’t worth a snap of your little finger and haven’t any honor about them. Harold has just been lucky not to lose all he had in that place. When he gets out he doesn’t know what he’ll do, but I hope, at least, he can get into something a little more decent and decent people to work for. We hope to buy a house when he sells and we get a little money. This place is so small. We haven’t a place to put anything.
Well, I’ll close. I’ve written two big fat letters lately, so I hope I’ll hear soon.
Your ever lovingly,
Mabel
A kiss for baby Onah and yourself one too. My best to Ernest.
Monday, March 29, 2010
(Photo: My great-grandfather Ernest Detmers)
Five years later, Ernest must spend time away from his wife. I'm not sure why she's back in Southern California, while he stays in Exeter. Maybe she's just visiting her relatives for a short time.
Ernest misses Mamie as much as when she was still with Clarence. It also appears she's having trouble conceiving. At this point, they have already had at least one child.
The line that strikes me most: "When we do die, we want to die together and love will do that for us."
This comment is meaningful when you know how the two sweethearts met with their respective deaths much too early. I will explain soon.
Exeter, Calif.
June 28, 1925
Dearest Lil Sugar Plum –
Thought I’d better write or you might think I was sick. But I’m not sick. Wish I could do something while you’re away and surprise you, but honey it sure takes the money and time. If it wasn’t for coming down again, I might have about 50 cents extra to spend for paint to paint the house inside and out, and the garage and chicken coop. Was up town with the intent of buying a pair of light pants, whip cords or something, but saw the oil on the rear wheels, so I guess I’ll have a new rear axle put in Lizzie instead. Was going to write to you the other night, honey bunch. My thoughts were rather dormant though from fatigue in the shoppe. Didn’t wish to worry your delicate organism with a carload of mush without no sugar on it. Believe me you.
I went to the dam yesterday. Sunday and Earl, Mary and the Hustons were there. Went in for awhile. Sure refreshing. Wish you could have been there. Mary sure did have fun with some of the other tots with a tied boat.
I’d like to come down the 4th, but I doubt I will have the money, and it’s still pretty hot here. Guess I’ll write back not to come, as one has to come through several spots that are about a million times hotter to get here.
Well, sweetie, I have to go to town and (?) that piece that has the set screw on the plunger rod fixed. The threads in it are stripped. So bye, and I’ll continue this letter in the next... Hope you had a good time in the hills. Yes, the folks sure have a time in their place. If Pa could just get well, they ought to get rid of the home place and just keep the (?) and the corner place and put it to bulbs and walnut nursery or something.
Bye dearest and dearie. XXXXX
As ever, your darn fool hubby,
Ernest
(Envelope addressed to Mamie A. Detmers, care of H.J. Harvey, RI Ontario, Calif.)
Exeter, Calif.
June 30, ‘25
Dearest Sweetie of mine –
So you are having lots of company. Shouldn’t think you’d be lonesome. Yes you ought to send for Mattie. Tell him about it. That would give you a good excuse to have me come down for you so they wouldn’t be so crowded. I could leave here Sun. eve. I don’t want to come as though I wasn’t sent for. Might make them feel bad. But if you think you’d better stay and help with the cats, let me know. But use diplomacy, see kiddie, don’t have a fuss.
Sr. Mabel gave the 5 back well she had a visit with you, and she also knows we aren’t stingy. I wrote Fred to phone Hank not to come. It isn’t worth the trip just for a day.
Well I don’t know much of news. Wish you were here tonight. I’d sure love to chew your ears, you darn lil piece of mutt you. XXXX
Don’t worry about your condition, kiddie. There will be other families, but not as pretty before the game is over. And if we take our medicine gamely and lovingly enough, we will escape the ravages of age that many a childless couple suffer. Let’s just surprise them all honey. You do your part and I’ll do mine. We’ll surely have enuf family for a dishwasher then. Get it on time, ha ha. I saw a couple, Frazer Milligan and his wife, in the restaurant tonight. I used to think she sure was pretty a few years ago, but now she is gray as a bat, wears glasses and they say is crabby as the dickens. They have no kids.
I guess I’ll send for some pep tablets and give Earl a few for Mary. And I’ll bet she slips it over on him for another one or so. Honey, if you can just cultivate that secret of love life, we can fool them all and I know it. Please honey! When we do die, we want to die together and love will do that for us.
Well dearie, it’s time to go to bed, so quit your reading and come on. Too bad about the quake, huh?
Wish I could write a carload like you can. Tonight xxxx wifey of mine. As ever your dear friend Ernest A. Detmers.
125 S. 1st st, Exeter, Calif.
Have been trying to find the Sears Roebuck catalogue. Wanted to send for some perfume, but couldn’t find it.
Thanks for my shirt honey.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Donal and Onah: two of Mamie and Ernest's future children.
Both of these letters weren't dated, and somehow they were out of order in my notes. The first one is after Mamie leaves Clarence, but before she and Ernest get married. She is begging him to marry her now. Begging. He sure needs a woman to sew buttons for him. (I would think that would be at the bottom of the list of reasons why she wants to marry him right now!) She mentions they've been in love for eight months. Is that all?
The second letter is from Ernest when Mamie is still with Clarence.
Mon. Eve. 9:00
My dearest hubby chum!
Oh, I am so happy dear! All on account of you and your love for me! My sweetheart! It was so sweet to hear your voice tonight. All for me. Your sweet words thrilled me so deeply and believe me it makes me happy!
All I want now to complete my happiness is marriage, dear, to you. It seems as if I can’t wait until you are out of the service dear. I want you now. It would be so lovely to be your bride even tho we couldn’t have a honeymoon until after you are out. Maybe I am building air castles dear, but I love you so much and it seems now that I can’t live so far away from you. I just love to be where I can see you often and do things for you. Oh I think it would be wonderfully sweet dear. Just you and I alone. Dear, can’t we do it soon, please? I’d lots rather get married now than 5 or 6 months from now. Since we are so sure of our love and are mates, why should we keep writing indefinitely, dearie boy? Why not marry now and then let things go as they please. We will be so happy! We are as near ready as we will ever be, dearest. I am anyway. I can’t settle down to sew or anything else, I am so happy and dreamy. And if I was in my own little home and belonged to you, then I could settle down long enough to start house keeping for you. It’s great to really be in love dear isn’t it??!! Really dear. You need someone to sew buttons and take care of you in general. Right away too! And that someone is “wifey chum.”
Mable says we would be much happier if we married right away. But it’s all up to you dear!
Of course dear I am just telling you the way I would love to have things turn out, but I don’t wish to make you feel like you had to do it just to please me. You probably will have the responsibility of securing a place to live and license and preacher and witnesses, etc. Ha ha! And I want you to do things up and please you!
Dearest, I have wanted all the time to marry you while yet in the service. My Soldier Husband. See? But maybe it’s just a foolish little whim of mine. Dear, it might help you to get out quickly too. And we could have so much more time together, nights and all, instead of just a few hours once a week. We would enjoy it all so much, dear! Don’t you think so? Please, Ernest! I am so hungry for you! I wouldn’t be lonesome, dear. I would be busy and happy and so would you!
Gee, this sounds like a proposal. Ha! Ha! But it isn’t; it’s just from me to you. I just can’t bear to think of another long engagement.
We have loved each other for 8 months now, and can’t we complete things instead of waiting? I’ve grown tired of the long engagement, dear. Altho, I am willing to wait for you until you are ready. You are old enough and ought to know and understand things more than I, dear, and I shall always look to you for advice, etc. I have just tried, dearie, to express my wishes and it would make me so much more contented and happy to be your wife now instead of – I don’t know when. Don’t worry about the folks. It would soon be O.K. They really expect such to happen.
I’m so sleepy, dear, and so are you, so night dearest love and hubby darling. And lots of sweet kisses on your deary face and lips from mine. And please, dear, come over as soon as possible (Wednesday). Call me if you don’t come. I am always your own lil wifey chum.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mamie
March Field
Riverside, Calif.
Barracks 3
Dearest Mamie –
Well I …sent a gram to the PO Master a while back, but he never sent my mail. Instead, it was all sent to the hospital. He must have had a hunch as to how I felt. Came back last night, had to rustle a bunk in the dark and everything. Spent several days in LA and the rest of the time with my chum and his folks quietly holding my breath, flitting away a perfectly misspent furlough. Three weeks! His mother certainly is some princess to me.
I rather hated to come back to the field. Believe me – honey! Gee-dear. Your dearest of letters sure were full of everything, but happiness. O for the time in your sweet life when you may say, “I am so happy.” Please God.
So your dear Dad is on a high horse. I remember him saying he didn’t know a thing about my lineage, etc.
(Forgive me honey) I have to smile at him. Girlie, with me – if I loved a girl I wouldn’t care what her lineage was! Because I’m not a blind lover and darling, I can’t cease to love you!
And he wishes us all those things. Ha ha. Honey of mine, I don’t care what he wishes. Dear, I hope true love finds its way for your sake! No dear, if you marry him, I will not promise to write – because I will not! Because you must forget. I’ll manage to know how you are, etc. But I shall not write. Dear, as it now is, you are going through the awful acid test and may the result prove 100% pure. No matter what the world thinks, your folks think or I think, use your own sweet head – honey! Sing Birdie, sing! Reminds me when I was at friend chum’s. I spent part of my time teaching their beautiful Polly Parrot to talk.
It’s a wonder you and C. didn’t bump right smack dab into me in LA. Was around there somewhere at the time.
And … you think I wasn’t glad you didn’t get busted in the real bump you had. We were nearly smashed into coming out, rained and rained and there were flocks of machines coming in from the Berdu show.
Was just wondering – will you get this letter. A missive in a hostile camp…40 Redskins bit the dust.
Gee I wish I was out. Didn’t fly today. Too much wind! And – the time didn’t fly either.
Yes, how I’d love to hold you o so close and kiss you more tenderly and sweetly than ever. O girl! A thousand times – I’d love to. I sure was at the height of happiness that eve. And fell into the dark depths – on the wrong side. Pretty please, with sugar on it. Curses! … and please forgive me dear, dearest of all girls. Yes, I too could talk all night with sweet lil you!
But why torment and lacerate a hurt heart more. Coming through Ontario last eve, I sure had to grit my teeth. Huh! Well I better stop before the wire that I sewed my heart up with bursts. Valentine’s – certainly was a dickens of a reminder. And my chum’s little nephew insisted I draw him some Valentine’s to give to his friends. When I finished them, he wanted to keep them. Ha ha. It’s late once more and a big long lonesome night for yours truly.
Hope you are well…Night dearest darling, and I hope you sleep like a log. Hope dreams aren’t always pleasant. You can’t trust them. So I wish you no dreams. XXXX
For ever and ever. E.D.
This is an awful bumpy letter, but my heart goes bumpy bumpy, so what can you expect?
By gollie, I haven’t any but a Y.A. envelope, and if you don’t get this then it’s fate.
I wish I was in H. with my neck broke too.
Yes I’d like to see Mable and if I can, I will.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
(My grandma, Zella Patricia Detmers Drysdale, born 1926)
Here are all the letters I have left, including a really interesting letter from Ernest's dad in 1925. The Southern language in this missive is spectacular!
The first two letters are from Mamie about her father on his death bed. She talks about their "kids" plural, but I don't know how many they've had by now. She also says her father "can't stand the kids," but my guess is he is only annoyed with them because he's so sick and they won't leave him alone. Our tale ends here, sadly.
July 1st
Dearest daddy daddy,
Just a note tonight. I’m tired and Pa just ordered Uncle E and I to bed. He’s been awful sick today and was real bad at noon. Quigley was here. He had been to Anaheim to see this Dr. Johnston, the cancer specialist that Pa wanted Ethel to go see. This Dr. said Pa had only a slight chance of getting well and that was to take him down to this hospital and they would feed him through the bowels and get him in shape so he could stand an operation.
Ma was so mad to think Quigley went, she wouldn’t even listen. Uncle Edward [?] something else had to be done right away too, but still sticks to C. Science or having Mrs. MacPherson come up. He won’t listen to an operation. But I know what will be done. Nothing but what they are doing now. Caley and Ma and Zella long for Nance, so what can we do? Uncle E. said he’d bring his old sewing machine down and attach it to Pa and it would do as much good as the rattle box. Ha! Ha! And said they would take out his stomach entirely or cut it in two and change the tubes to the other side and he could probably live a year that way and then would have to have the whole stomach removed. He said the Abraham Cure was a fad and only warmed the stomach and then the cancer would spread worse. He said the vomiting was a forerunner of death and after about three weeks of it, there wasn’t any chance of curing. He said he was too far gone to rely on this Abraham treatment now, that it might have helped a little in the beginning. He said whatever we did, to do it quick.
Wish you were down here. The kids just drove him crazy today and they weren’t bad at all. But the baby fusses a lot. So I hiked them all up to Duell’s all afternoon.
Well I’ll go to bed and finish tomorrow night Darling.
Mamie
Thurs. Morn.
Well, I’ve washed some more diddies and got the kids quiet for a few minutes so I’ll finish this. Caley was up and he and Uncle E. just went to town. Uncle E. wants Pa to let Mrs. MacPherson come. Pa is disgusted with it. Wouldn’t let Ma finish the treatment this morning. Told her to take the damn thing away, he never wanted to see it again. Oh they’ll just let him be there and die. Nance says it might be a little softer and maybe not quite so big. Spit on him.
Pa has vomited all day and such awful stuff. No sleep for two nights and so weak he can’t turn over and says he is so sore and achy all over and wants his feet rubbed with cold water. I’m afraid he’ll get paralyzed pretty soon. He couldn’t talk today, only mumble. Was a little clearer tonight up or else Mattie, and Pa only say he might yet before he gets through. It makes me so mad. Edward says, well it’s all his own fault and if he wants help himself it’s none of our business, so guess it will be up to him. Hope you can come down Sat. I’m going to get out as I want to be here and get in a fuss. He can’t stand the kids and I can’t get them away all the time. We’ll make up the money business some other time.
Bye honey and lots of love,
Mamie
Camden, Ark.
8/8/1925
My dear Ernest:
Your letter just received. Glad to hear from you. Well Mr. (?) folk arrived today, and I will pull out in the mornin’. Goin’ south is all I know. Lost the opportunity to cash in on the Florida boom. Too late now. There’s a chance for another one in S. Mississippi and S. Louisiana. May look ‘em over. I could sell some lime in the oil field this fall yet, but don’t much feel like getting into a hard jam just now. Am going to take down the big road, and camp where I happen to be when night comes. It’s a great life. Kinda hobo style went down through the oil fields last Sunday to El Dorado and back 66 miles. Walked maybe 5 or 6 miles. Will let you know where I’m at occasionally. If you ever have blood poison, don’t forget antiflogistine. It’s great stuff. Have been helping my renter here until his wife got here, and now I guess I can travel some. It ought to do me good. My boils are some better. Used antiflogistine on ‘em. We sure missed it in Taft. Threw a fortune away. Just got a letter from Hank Pete and family. Gone fishin’ and huntin’. Hope they get back okay. Well, still have a chance here for a room. Hope it’s just loose when I’m gone. Thanks for your article. Believe I told you of making Hire’s root beer and ginger ale, and selling it out of 9 oz. bottles 70 to 5 gallons. Cost me outside of a little trouble 1 cent a bottle. Good profit and good stuff too. Well, next summer you can bet I’m in the game some place. Either lemo or root beer barrel or fountain. Just according to my finances.
With love to all as ever, your affectionate Dad.
My great-grandmother Mamie Harvey Detmers was born May 30, 1899 in Valton, Wisconsin, and died on August 24, 1944. She had five children in her short 45 years. My grandmother was 18 when her mother died, and says Mamie had some sort of cancer related to the female organs.
My great-grandfather Ernest A. Detmers was born Jan. 1, 1889 in Trinidad, Colorado, and died Sept. 21, 1947, only three years after his wife's early demise. My grandma says her dad was never the same after Mamie's death, and when he came down with pneumonia at 58, he fought going to the hospital. His family forced him into treatment, where he decided he'd just stop eating. He gave up because he didn't see a reason to live with his true love gone.
I'm happy they had 25 years, give or take, to spend together, and five children to show for it. It truly is a sad tale, however, as my grandma did not have her mother around when her own three sons were born.
At the age of 84, my grandmother still has fond memories of her parents and siblings, and I will continue to cherish the time I spend listening to her childhood tales while she's still here telling them.
I now need a new topic for my blog! Ideas are welcome.
Here are all the letters I have left, including a really interesting letter from Ernest's dad in 1925. The Southern language in this missive is spectacular!
The first two letters are from Mamie about her father on his death bed. She talks about their "kids" plural, but I don't know how many they've had by now. She also says her father "can't stand the kids," but my guess is he is only annoyed with them because he's so sick and they won't leave him alone. Our tale ends here, sadly.
July 1st
Dearest daddy daddy,
Just a note tonight. I’m tired and Pa just ordered Uncle E and I to bed. He’s been awful sick today and was real bad at noon. Quigley was here. He had been to Anaheim to see this Dr. Johnston, the cancer specialist that Pa wanted Ethel to go see. This Dr. said Pa had only a slight chance of getting well and that was to take him down to this hospital and they would feed him through the bowels and get him in shape so he could stand an operation.
Ma was so mad to think Quigley went, she wouldn’t even listen. Uncle Edward [?] something else had to be done right away too, but still sticks to C. Science or having Mrs. MacPherson come up. He won’t listen to an operation. But I know what will be done. Nothing but what they are doing now. Caley and Ma and Zella long for Nance, so what can we do? Uncle E. said he’d bring his old sewing machine down and attach it to Pa and it would do as much good as the rattle box. Ha! Ha! And said they would take out his stomach entirely or cut it in two and change the tubes to the other side and he could probably live a year that way and then would have to have the whole stomach removed. He said the Abraham Cure was a fad and only warmed the stomach and then the cancer would spread worse. He said the vomiting was a forerunner of death and after about three weeks of it, there wasn’t any chance of curing. He said he was too far gone to rely on this Abraham treatment now, that it might have helped a little in the beginning. He said whatever we did, to do it quick.
Wish you were down here. The kids just drove him crazy today and they weren’t bad at all. But the baby fusses a lot. So I hiked them all up to Duell’s all afternoon.
Well I’ll go to bed and finish tomorrow night Darling.
Mamie
Thurs. Morn.
Well, I’ve washed some more diddies and got the kids quiet for a few minutes so I’ll finish this. Caley was up and he and Uncle E. just went to town. Uncle E. wants Pa to let Mrs. MacPherson come. Pa is disgusted with it. Wouldn’t let Ma finish the treatment this morning. Told her to take the damn thing away, he never wanted to see it again. Oh they’ll just let him be there and die. Nance says it might be a little softer and maybe not quite so big. Spit on him.
Pa has vomited all day and such awful stuff. No sleep for two nights and so weak he can’t turn over and says he is so sore and achy all over and wants his feet rubbed with cold water. I’m afraid he’ll get paralyzed pretty soon. He couldn’t talk today, only mumble. Was a little clearer tonight up or else Mattie, and Pa only say he might yet before he gets through. It makes me so mad. Edward says, well it’s all his own fault and if he wants help himself it’s none of our business, so guess it will be up to him. Hope you can come down Sat. I’m going to get out as I want to be here and get in a fuss. He can’t stand the kids and I can’t get them away all the time. We’ll make up the money business some other time.
Bye honey and lots of love,
Mamie
Camden, Ark.
8/8/1925
My dear Ernest:
Your letter just received. Glad to hear from you. Well Mr. (?) folk arrived today, and I will pull out in the mornin’. Goin’ south is all I know. Lost the opportunity to cash in on the Florida boom. Too late now. There’s a chance for another one in S. Mississippi and S. Louisiana. May look ‘em over. I could sell some lime in the oil field this fall yet, but don’t much feel like getting into a hard jam just now. Am going to take down the big road, and camp where I happen to be when night comes. It’s a great life. Kinda hobo style went down through the oil fields last Sunday to El Dorado and back 66 miles. Walked maybe 5 or 6 miles. Will let you know where I’m at occasionally. If you ever have blood poison, don’t forget antiflogistine. It’s great stuff. Have been helping my renter here until his wife got here, and now I guess I can travel some. It ought to do me good. My boils are some better. Used antiflogistine on ‘em. We sure missed it in Taft. Threw a fortune away. Just got a letter from Hank Pete and family. Gone fishin’ and huntin’. Hope they get back okay. Well, still have a chance here for a room. Hope it’s just loose when I’m gone. Thanks for your article. Believe I told you of making Hire’s root beer and ginger ale, and selling it out of 9 oz. bottles 70 to 5 gallons. Cost me outside of a little trouble 1 cent a bottle. Good profit and good stuff too. Well, next summer you can bet I’m in the game some place. Either lemo or root beer barrel or fountain. Just according to my finances.
With love to all as ever, your affectionate Dad.
My great-grandmother Mamie Harvey Detmers was born May 30, 1899 in Valton, Wisconsin, and died on August 24, 1944. She had five children in her short 45 years. My grandmother was 18 when her mother died, and says Mamie had some sort of cancer related to the female organs.
My great-grandfather Ernest A. Detmers was born Jan. 1, 1889 in Trinidad, Colorado, and died Sept. 21, 1947, only three years after his wife's early demise. My grandma says her dad was never the same after Mamie's death, and when he came down with pneumonia at 58, he fought going to the hospital. His family forced him into treatment, where he decided he'd just stop eating. He gave up because he didn't see a reason to live with his true love gone.
I'm happy they had 25 years, give or take, to spend together, and five children to show for it. It truly is a sad tale, however, as my grandma did not have her mother around when her own three sons were born.
At the age of 84, my grandmother still has fond memories of her parents and siblings, and I will continue to cherish the time I spend listening to her childhood tales while she's still here telling them.
I now need a new topic for my blog! Ideas are welcome.
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