Tuesday, June 12, 1951
168 Street, 5 Floor
Dear June:
Art on the beach, circa 1950. His left knee had been hurting him for years. |
It’s so long since I wrote a letter that I don’t know where to begin. Maybe I’ll tell you the vital statistics again. Visiting hours are from 2 to 8. I’m in Room 15 on the fifth floor. This guy in the room with me seems to have quite a lot of pain. He’s in a cast from his toes to his thigh. They did something with his ankle.
My mother is coming on Thursday and plans to stay here for the operation on Friday afternoon. I doubt if she’s here for the weekend though. I’ve already had a few needles shoved in me and my leg shaved.
I’m looking forward to seeing you on Sunday, and I’ll call you every day that I can. I love you so much, darling. Your picture’s right next to my bed on the nightstand.
Be careful coming into the city. Good night now, darling.
All my love,
Art
(Tomorrow – Asking a bridesmaid.)
© 2011 Lee Price
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