Patchogue to Riverhead



Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from October 6 to November 9, 1949, as June recuperates at the hospital from a ruptured appendix…

June Anderson,
circa 1939.

June spent her early childhood in Patchogue, a small village midway out on Long Island’s south shore.



In 1935, when June was 6 years old, the family bought a house in Riverhead, an easy walk from her father’s job at the regional telephone company office in town.  Approximately 15 miles east of Patchogue, Riverhead is located at the point where Long Island’s two forks meet.  The Peconic River flows into Flanders Bay and the Great Peconic Bay here, with the river functioning as a sort of dividing line between the resort communities of the South Fork and the less developed lands of the North Fork.  Flanders Road was the main route to the Hamptons, a series of villages which stretched along the south shore.

The Anderson family, circa 1938:  Teddy in his mother's lap
and June with her father.

June's brother Teddy (Theodore Carl Anderson, Jr.) was born in 1937.  To June, the eight-year gap between their ages felt large.  She made friends with the local girls and settled into a happy life in Riverhead.  Bright and interested in many subjects, if a little inattentive at times, she did well in the Riverhead public schools.

Most evenings, June's father would take a walk to Tepper Brothers, a popular soda shop in town.  There he would buy the evening paper and a quart of ice cream, fresh scooped from the big tubs, to bring back home for dessert.  June frequently accompanied her father on these evening walks, joined in later years by little Teddy.  June and her father liked the chocolate ice cream the most.

(On Monday, Art grows up in the Hamptons…)

Countdown:  Correspondence resumes in 24 days.

© 2010 Lee Price

An Unusual Strain of Gentleness

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from October 6 to November 9, 1949, as June recuperates at the hospital from a ruptured appendix…

As mentioned in yesterday’s entry, Art’s mother was possibly the sweetest person in town.  It’s difficult to describe this, although everyone who knew her could attest to it.  The sweetness wasn’t cloying, but a very unusual and rare strain of gentleness that went hand-in-hand with a very active life.  She was always doing something – organizing a potluck dinner at the church, or cooking in her kitchen, or serving as an airplane spotter at Cooper’s Beach during World War II.  She was quiet, attentive, caring, and never hurtful.  She never said anything negative to anyone about anything.  According to the family, her mother before her (the Pierson side of the family) had these same qualities.

Art's charcocal sketch of his
sister Dorothy.

Both Art and his younger sister Dorothy inherited this strain of gentleness.  Art would always be the quiet one in the group, enjoying good company but rarely joining in if the mood turned critical or insulting.  He always looked for the good in people.  And he also inherited something of that love of activity from his mother, always happy to be on the move – walking, driving, and exploring new places.  June appreciated these qualities in Art right from the start.

(On Sunday, June grows up in Riverhead…)

Countdown:  Correspondence resumes in 25 days.

© 2010 Lee Price

Introducing Art's Parents

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from October 6 to November 9, 1949, as June recuperates at the hospital from a ruptured appendix…

Art’s ancestry can be traced back to the early years of Long Island settlement, even as far back as the first European colony in Southampton.  His parents were Arthur Nixon Price and Ada Belle Werner, who were married in Southampton in 1925.  At the time of the wedding, Arthur, a carpenter, was

Art's drawing of the family house where Art's parents,
Arthur and Ada Belle Price, were married.

already working on building a house for them on Cooper Street in Southampton.  This partially built house was right across the street from Ada Belle’s parent’s new house, which is where they were married.  The first-born in the family (just as June was first-born in hers), Art was born to Arthur and Ada Belle on December 7, 1926.

Arthur and Ada Belle with Art
as a baby.

There were many relatives in the Southampton area, and this included a number who would spend nine months of the year in the thriving small town of Southampton and then escape to the more rural area of Noyack for the summer.  Starting in 1931, Ada Belle and Arthur settled into this family routine, joining various aunts, uncles, and cousins for the months of June, July, and August.

Art’s father was strict but kind, tending toward the quiet side.  He was very work-oriented, always ready to volunteer for any task that needed done.  He worked for George Price, a local building contractor and relative, up until World War II, when he took a job at the Agawam Aircraft plant in Sag Harbor.

Ada Belle was possibly the sweetest person in town.  She was always busy helping someone or preparing for some church dinner or event.  She worked at the post office from the time she graduated from Southampton High School in 1922 until her marriage.  During World War II, she proudly accepted a position as an airplane spotter.  She would report to a little building near Cooper’s Beach in Southampton and would watch the sky for airplanes.  When she saw a plane, she would attempt to identify the kind of plane using her binoculars and then report it in, using a phone in the makeshift building.  She led a small group of people charged with this task, and she handled the job enthusiastically and conscientiously.

It was a very happy household – Mom, Pop, Art, and his younger sister Dorothy (born in 1929).

(For tomorrow, more sweetness…)

Countdown:  Correspondence resumes in 26 days.

© 2010 Lee Price

Introducing June's Parents

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from October 6 to November 9, 1949, as June recuperates at the hospital from a ruptured appendix…

June was the daughter of a happy marriage between a Southerner and a Northerner – something that wasn’t all that common back in the 1920s!

Maud Elizabeth Clem.

Her mother was Maud Elizabeth Clem, born in 1902 and descended from the Clem, Rosser, and Zirkle families of Virginia.  Maud grew up in Luray, Virginia, located in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains and home of Luray Caverns.  In fact, Maud’s father claimed to be the electrician who put the first electric lights in the famous caverns.

June’s father was Theodore Carl Anderson, born in Pigeon Cove, Massachusetts in 1901.  Both of his parents (June’s grandparents) were teenage immigrants to America.  His father, Carl Anderson, came from Sweden and his mother, Anna Nilssen, from Denmark.  They had seven children who were raised on the poultry farm they established in Deep River, Connecticut.  Theodore attended Brown University and took a job with the phone company (American Telephone & Telegraph).



Theodore Carl Anderson
at Brown University.

It was the phone company job that brought Theodore to Virginia while still a young man.  Even though he was a Yankee, he was warmly received in small town Virginia.  In addition to his phone company work, he played his trumpet at town events and as accompaniment to silent films at the local theater.  He was young and good looking and attracted the attention of the local girls.  It was Maud who won his heart.

They married in 1923 and moved to New York City a short time later – another phone company transfer.  Maud loved this experience of the big city, but they only lived there for a short time.  By 1925, they were designing the house they wanted in Patchogue, Long Island.  June was born in the new family house in Patchogue on January 25, 1929, their first child.

(On Friday, an introduction to Art’s parents…)

Countdown:  Correspondence resumes in 27 days.

© 2010 Lee Price

A Fine Romance

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from October 6 to November 9, 1949, as June recuperates at the hospital from a ruptured appendix…

June and Art.

June and Art met in May 1949.  For the next four summer months, they went on frequent dates, doubtless increasingly aware of June’s impending return to school in the city.  The first six letters reveal an easy natural chemistry had already developed between them.  They know each other’s personalities and comfortably tease each other.

There are no big declarations of love in this first exchange of letters, but from the start, they consistently sign their letters “love” or “all my love.”  It’s natural to assume that June and Art were having regular phone conversations, as well.  Doubtless, things were discussed on the phone that were equally (if not sometimes more) important as the stories in the letters.  Our view is limited.

June had a tendency toward depression, and her moodiness is often acknowledged in the letters.  She usually attributes it to homesickness or separation from Art, but there are indications it runs deeper than that.  Art was very aware of this tendency and would try to cheer her up.  Of course, the best way to cheer June up was always the promise of a visit.

When reading the letters, it’s important to remember their youth.  In fall 1949, June is 20 and Art is 22.  Neither is worldly.  June is a student, entirely reliant on her parents for the money needed to live in the city.  Art lives at home with his parents, working as a grocery store clerk in a small town.  June may have dreamed of becoming a successful fashion designer and Art of being discovered as a fine oil painter, but any ambitions of that sort are minor in the light of their overriding main concern – seeing each other as often as possible.

(On Wednesday, an introduction to June's parents...)

Countdown:  The correspondence resumes in 29 days.

© 2010 Lee Price

Fragility

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from October 6 to November 9, 1949, as June recuperates at the hospital from a ruptured appendix…

(Cross-posted on the Preserving a Family Collection blog…)  June’s sudden hospitalization scared everyone.  While she had been to see her doctor previously about her appendicitis symptoms, the doctor had encouraged the family to believe that June’s aches and pains were nothing serious.  He was wrong.  When June entered the hospital, her life was in danger.

About two weeks previous to this, Art had a scare himself.  He hit a deer while driving home at night from June’s on Flanders Road, a 10-minute stretch through a wooded area between Riverhead and Hampton Bays.  The large deer dashed across the road right in front of him and he was unable to brake in time.

The car was nearly totaled, and that’s the reason that his Nash is in the garage for repairs during that first exchange of letters.

You replay things like this in your head.  You wonder:  What might have happened?  The question never goes away, reemerging unexpectedly in the dark of night many years later.  You think how things may have turned out very different.

The letters could have ended here.

* * * * *

 

I find myself surrounded by fragility.  When I pack the family collection into the car and drive 550 miles back to New Jersey, I keep thinking that all these records are so vulnerable in this one car – one blow-out of a tractor trailer on the road, one drunk driver skidding over the line, and a century’s worth of family records could be lost in minutes.

Paper can be resilient.  As organic material, its eventual deterioration is inevitable, unstoppable, but these papers, artwork, and photographs have the capability of surviving for many decades.  It’s a lost cause to think they’ll survive forever, but it remains a good cause to at least attempt to pass them down to the next generation.  As Jimmy Stewart said in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies), lost causes are the only causes worth fighting for.

Preservation of a family collection is a lost cause worth fighting for.

People are resilient, too.  Sometimes, by miracle or chance, they pull through.  But even if you leave the hospital or get out of the totaled car in good condition, the experience remains a reminder of our extreme vulnerability.  Our lives, relationships, stories, and our family collections are fragile, beautiful, and worth preserving.

(On Monday, June and Art and their romance…)

Countdown:  The correspondence resumes in 30 days.

© 2010 Lee Price

A Life-Threatening Disruption

There’s a month-long break in the letters at this point.  June and Art don’t return to writing again until November 9.  Something happened that weekend that dramatically interrupted all routines of school and letter writing.

Studio photo of June.

Throughout the summer and into the early fall, June suffered from intermittent and unexplained pains and aches.  Her mother had taken her to the family doctor, but he was unable to make a diagnosis.  They assumed it was nothing serious.

June came home to Riverhead for the weekend, probably arriving Friday night.  On Saturday morning, she didn’t feel well and called Art to cancel plans for the night.  Concerned, Art bought flowers and drove out to Riverhead to see her.  But when he arrived, June was feeling better and busy cleaning the house.  She was embarrassed, thinking it might look to Art like she was making excuses to get out of a date.

Shortly after Art left, June suddenly felt very sick -- much worse than before --  and her parents rushed her to the hospital.

The situation turned out to be much more serious than expected—even life-threatening.  Her appendix had ruptured, releasing toxins throughout her system.  Over the next couple of weeks, she was operated on at least twice and had to remain quiet in the hospital to recuperate.  June doesn’t return to Traphagen until November 9, missing four weeks of school.

It’s probably safe to assume that Art visited her often in the hospital.

(On Monday, June and Art and their romance…)

Correspondence resumes in 31 days.  During this letter-writing hiatus, we’ll fill in some background on June and Art.

© 2010 Lee Price