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| Pencil sketch by June Anderson for Traphagen School of Fashion, circa 1949 |
Saturday, October 1, 1949
40 W. 96th St.
New York City, NY
Dear Art,
Just looking out of the window – they have double parking on this street. Ever see that? The cars park sideways, but in two rows. I don’t understand it. Suppose someone in the row next to the sidewalk wants to leave? Oh well, it’s not my worry.
The older I become, the more complicated life becomes. Money matters now. I came with a few dollars in my pocket and a check book. I thought, oh well, anybody, or at least somebody, will cash my check. Guess what? They won’t. The banks are closed till Monday, and people now tell me that the bank won’t give me my money until 3 days after I hand over a check. And here I am – with only 4 dollars!
Art, you know those “hands you love to touch” (Lux, isn’t it?)? Well, they could sharpen a knife right now! When I think back on this past month with nothing to do except maybe get ready for a date with you – Ah-h-h-h that’s a wistful sigh... I slaved here all day! We cleaned the entire apartment. I washed the tile in the bathroom while Shirley scrubbed the floor. I scrubbed the tile under the fireplace. We cleaned the woodwork, polished the furniture, and dusted the venetian blinds. But it was worth it.
It’s an awful responsibility for two girls to take on – signing the lease and everything. I called up daddy today and he says not to worry – if we can’t get some roommates we’ll just have to move and lose the money, but it’s alright. I feel somewhat better about it now.
I keep asking Shirl to get up and make me something to eat, but she won’t budge. Looks like I may have to do it myself. Hooray! She finally got up! Two sandwiches apiece, please! I’m hungry tonight.
Art, how is your knee now? Please, even if it is feeling better, keep doctoring it – after all, I’m hoping to dance the next time we go out.
Maybe I can squeeze out a dollar for a movie tonight. We have no radio here as yet, so it’s kind of quiet. It doesn’t seem like Saturday night. I’m afraid I’m going to miss you.
All my love,
June
(Tonight – Art’s first letter to June…)
© 2010 Lee Price
I love this letter! June had to wait for her roommate to get up to make her a sandwich. I don't think she could cook at all back then. My father always said that he had to teach her to boil water. She never did really learn to cook much - a "good" meal usually came out of a box!
ReplyDelete- Jamie