23 January 1942

A transcript follows the letter images.


Jan. 23, 1942.

Dearest Walt,

Well I laid awake last night until I thought of what it was I wanted to tell you. It wasn’t important, but rather interesting.

Yesterday, Mother & I saw Mrs. Haller, Jack Roth’s mother, down town. Of course, Mother asked her to tell Jack to give back my ring. She said O.K. She said Jack had been sick. His sister was pregnant and she got toxin poisoning & almost died. They saved

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her, but lost the baby. Sometimes we don’t know how lucky they we are until we see how others suffer. She said Jack gave her a pint of blood & just recently had his tonsils out. I don’t suppose I’ll ever get the ring back, though.

I’m sitting here eating potato chips & getting thirsty.

When you get your uniform, you simply must send me a picture of you. Bet you’ll look swell.


It was sweet of you to write to that guy’s mother. (The one who can’t read & write.) Whenever he wants another letter written, you can skip a letter to me, honey. His mother is probably worried & I know she will be more than grateful to you.

I wrote to Mary Jean over a week ago & I haven’t heard from her yet. I expect a letter from her most any day now.

Granny has been on the war path for

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the last couple days. You know, she keeps her door locked all the time. She says now that us kids ripped one of her dresses. She is going to send us to jail. I’m scared. (Oh Yeah!)

Mother & Mrs. Thomas went to see “How Green Was My Valley”. Ruby has gone out with Ruthie.

These jokes (?) in the paper tonight made me laugh. Maybe you’ll laugh too. I hope so. It feels good to laugh once in a while.

Is it cold in the house


tonight! It’s usually so hot you can’t breathe & tonight it’s so cold, my goose pimples have goose pimples.

One of the guys Florence works for, is taking his physical examination & probably will be drafted in the near future.

Dunlap & Bain wrote a letter to Morris Magid today. You know—he’s the guy they took to Massillon (state asylum).

As usual, nothing happened today. In fact,

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less than usual.

My sweet grandmother is bothering me. She certainly can make life miserable.

There isn’t even anything any good on the radio tonight. I didn’t mind having nothing to do when you were here. In fact, I’d much rather spend a quiet evening with you, than to go out & make “whoopee”.

I just looked at your picture. Um! Are you handsome. I certainly am lucky to have such a handsome


guy to walk down the street with. (When you get back, the first thing I want to do is run my fingers through your hair. XXX.)

I can’t think of much more to say. So,  until tomorrow—


(The future Mrs. Walter Everett Pittman)

[lipstick kiss]

I love you with all my heart.


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