The Drapes Are Short

Life drawings by June Anderson.

Tuesday, November 29, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Everybody in school yesterday was wandering around with bags and dark circles under their eyes.  Seems like they all had a very nice weekend, although I know it couldn’t have been as nice as mine!

Shirl and I just had a nice big laugh.  She just showed me the material she bought for the room, then proudly brought out the drapes that she had made and almost finished last night.  At one glance, I knew something was wrong.  Sure enough, they are about a foot too short – they don’t reach the window sill by lengths.  Shirl says that’s why her mother calls her good-for-nothing.

What a talking mood you must have been in on Monday night!  I’m sure Frank H. (I won’t deign to call him by that “Footles” nickname) couldn’t have done all the talking.  I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, though. 

Well, Shirl and I have to go out to eat now, then homework, and maybe sewing more drapes – and definitely sleep at 10.  Tomorrow you will receive a much nicer letter, I’m sure.  Until then,

Love (lots),

June

(Tonight – raining in Southampton.)

© 2010 Lee Price

A Late Night

Monday, November 28, 1949

12:20 A.M. (really Tuesday)

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June,

Don’t jump to conclusions about the hour – I really wasn’t out with the boys!  I went to the second show tonight.  It was a very good picture as you know (Pinky).  I went to Gene’s afterward.  Frank Hoffman was there.  We’ve been sitting in front in my car talking.  You know “Footles” is quite a talker (how do you like that for a

nickname?).  I didn’t even have a beer tonight.

I hope you weren’t too late to school.  It was awfully nice to have that last evening though (and all the others were nice, too!).  I don’t imagine Shirl thought

much of another night alone, though.

Well this is one day over and that means less time to wait for you to come home again.  I won’t promise anything about the weekend.  We’ll see what happens.  Be good and don’t work too hard, write lots of letters, you know how I love them.

Lots of love,

Art

(Tomorrow – June and Shirl fix up the new apartment.)

© 2010 Lee Price

A Southampton Thanksgiving

Art’s mother (Ada Belle Price) cooked the Thanksgiving meal in the kitchen of their house on Cooper Street.  Her sister Gertrude (Art’s Aunt Nin) helped out.  Recently married to Ray Lawrence, Aunt Nin and Uncle Ray lived across the street at the Werner family house on the corner of Cooper and Halsey Street.

Thanksgiving dinner was –

Turkey

Cranberry Sauce

Stuffing

Mashed Potatoes

Gravy

Sweet Potatoes

Creamed Onions and Turnips

Pumpkin Pie and Mince Pie

Art's parents Ada Belle and
Arthur Price and his sister Dorothy.

Dinner was served in the late afternoon, usually around 4:30.  In addition to Uncle Ray and Aunt Nin, Art’s Uncle Sam and Aunt Helen would usually join them for dinner.  Art’s sister Dorothy arrived home from SUNY (State University of New York) Plattsburgh the previous night.

* * * * *

Did June join the Price family for Thanksgiving dinner in 1949?  Maybe.  We don’t know.

We do know that a problem arose at June’s first Thanksgiving with Art’s family.

The story is that June had a traumatic experience at her grandparent’s poultry farm in Connecticut sometime during her youth.  Whatever she saw, she came away hating the sight of cooked poultry that still looked bird-like.  She could eat slices of chicken or turkey, but hated seeing the bird carcass

Art had grown up attending Thanksgiving feasts where his Grandpa Werner would dramatically carve the roast turkey at the table.  Art’s father continued this tradition following Grandpa Werner’s death.

In deference to June, this Price family tradition was dropped.  With June present, the turkey was discreetly carved in the kitchen then brought to the table in nice white slices, not looking bird-like at all.

© 2010 Lee Price

A Riverhead Thanksgiving

On the table in the dining room of the Anderson house –

One big Turkey

Stuffing (in the turkey)

Cranberry Sauce

Mashed Potatoes

Gravy

Green Beans cooked in bacon fat

Green Bean Casserole

Sweet Potatoes or Yams

Pumpkin Pie

Apple Pie

Ice Cream (always ice cream, for all occasions)

June’s mother (Maud Anderson) got up early to start the meal and she cooked it alone.  June rarely helped in the kitchen and consequently knew very little about how to cook anything.  Her mother didn't want her in the kitchen.  She thought the proper place for a young woman was learning a professional career at college.

Raised in Luray, Virginia, June’s mother cooked a Southern-inflected meal.  In particular, the green beans were distinctively Virginia style, cooked down to mush in bacon fat.  Everyone loved them.

An Anderson family portrait, circa 1938:  Ted, June,
Teddy, and Maud.

The meal was served early, usually between noon and one.  The serving dishes, brimming with food, had to be carried from the kitchen through the living room to the dining room.  Thanksgiving was a big holiday, but not a crowded one at the Andersons.  Most of the relatives were far off in Virginia and Connecticut.  So it was just June, her parents, her brother Teddy, and Aunt Thelma, who was living with them at the time.  The family was taking care of Aunt Thelma as she coped with a very severe and debilitating case of rheumatoid arthritis.

Art probably drove over for a short visit after the meal.  The visit had to be short because his family served Thanksgiving dinner in the late afternoon and he'd have to return back home for that.  If the Andersons had finished eating, Art would have joined them in the living room, where the floor model radio would have been on, probably tuned to a football game.

© 2010 Lee Price

A Note of Frustration and Thanksgiving

(Cross-posted on the Preserving a Family Collection blog…)

Last summer, I returned home from Florida with twelve large boxes comprising our family collection.  So much history…  and yet there are still countless gaps in the record.

Art’s letters are missing for that nine-day stretch of correspondence between June’s return to school and Thanksgiving vacation.  At the very least, we know we are missing the letter that June refers to as the “shortest.. on record” and the one with the “long, low whistle.”

We have no pictures in our family collection of the Traphagen School of Fashion where June attended for two years.  I’d be happy with an interior or an exterior.  My sister and I have searched the internet, the New York Public Library, and the New York Historical Society.  We’ve found nothing.

There are no photographs of June’s apartments in the city.

We've found no pictures of Shirley Stahl, June’s roommate and close friend.  Perhaps June used her as a model for some of her fashion illustrations?  There’s no way to know.

I don’t know where Jack’s (where June would eat breakfast before class) was located.  We’ve found no pictures of Roulston’s on Main Street in Southampton or Partida’s where Art went for his art classes.  And I’d sure love to uncover a photo of Helen Darby’s house where June and Art met.

Nevertheless, frustrating as it is to acknowledge these gaps, I’m deeply thankful for all that we have – twelve gift boxes from the past for us to care for and pass forward into the future.

Our personal heritage is important.  We’re indeed fortunate to have so much.

© 2010 Lee Price

The Nicest Decoration in the Room

This is the last letter of the exchange that occurred during the two weeks between June’s illness and Thanksgiving.  While it’s obvious from June’s letters that Art was writing, his letters appear to be lost.  When June and Art return to their correspondence following Thanksgiving weekend, his side of the correspondence will be fully represented once again.

Thursday, November 17, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,



Fabric drawings
by
June Anderson.



I came into the room tonight to find no letter waiting for me.  Felt kind of lost.  That letter is supposed to be the nicest decoration in the room.  Did you go out again?

Dorothy, Shirl, and I went to the movies right after school to see two English movies.  One was about how a ballet is put together – dance, stage settings, costumes and then the finished (short) ballet.  The other picture was one of those odd affairs that you can’t quite decide whether you like it or not.  Here it is 8:00 and we’re home already.  So, it’s more school work for me I guess!

We had a little fire at school today – in the elevator shaft.  Just a little one, but all the fire engines came.

Shirl and I are planning drapes and covers for the room.  We saw some material we liked today.  Shirl is balanced precariously on the couch and a chair measuring the window.  She looks as if she’ll fall any minute.

This is my last letter before I leave.  I get home at 7:15 on Friday night.  Remember?  Be seeing you.

Love,

June

Spending Money at Macy's

This current exchange of letters occurred during the two weeks between June’s illness and Thanksgiving.  While it’s obvious from June’s letters that Art was writing, his letters from this brief stretch appear to be lost.  When June and Art return to their correspondence following Thanksgiving weekend, his side of the correspondence will be fully represented once again.

Tuesday, November 16, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

I’m getting your letters so nicely – another one today.

Today one of our teachers was trying to teach us to do our quick sketches in contour drawings so we spent all morning doing that.  It was fun.  I’m staying home again tonight – going to try to accomplish some homework.

Macy's at Herald Square, circa 1950.

Shirl and I are both kind of tired, we went shopping in Macy’s after school.  We bought an ironing board.  It’s good too, I mean that we bought it – I’m beginning to run out of ironed and semi-ironed clothes.  I hope they deliver it soon.

Before I forget, I’m coming home on that train that arrives in Riverhead at 7:15 p.m. – unless, of course, I miss it at the last minute.

Certainly I won’t mind if Bruno comes back with us.  Bring him right along.  After all, we should help him along with Mary.

Eleven hours sleep just doesn’t sound like you.  It’s either too little or too much.  Then again, I guess you certainly needed it after Saturday night!

Just think, only two more whole days and I’ll be home.  I know, because I’m kept busy counting them and my money.  It’s a race as to which will go the fastest.  Love and kisses and ‘bye for now.  Behave yourself.

Love,

June

(For Thursday, June's last letter before Thanksgiving break...)

© 2010 Lee Price