June with a Silly Grin

Thursday, December 1, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Shirl just looked over this way and exclaimed, “June, you have an awful silly grin on your face.  You’re not writing to Art by any chance, are you?”

We just hung the curtains.  Shirl told me to tear them instead of cutting them, and then just sew hems on them.  So that’s what I did.  How were we to know they would tear on a diagonal instead of straight?  They are unbelievably crooked.  We sat down and had a good laugh.  Anyway, they are nice and cheerful and clean.

She’s ironing the bedspread now.  Then we’ll sit down for half an hour to admire the work.  After that homework.  I have to wash my hair tonight too.

Oh, Art, I have bad news.  At least it’s bad news to me.  Our Christmas vacation doesn’t start till the 20^th which is on a Tuesday.  That means I probably won’t come home until Wednesday night.  Then we go back January 4^th.  That means I won’t see you for three whole weekends in December.  I’m mad at the school.  I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Miss Traphagen!  It is a long time, isn’t it?  But I can’t go home.  My father and mother don’t expect me and it costs money.  Everyone would know I’d be coming home just to see you.  So here I shall stay, but I certainly miss my nights out.  That will be especially true over the weekend.

Shirl’s sister Evie comes tomorrow, so that means no getting homework done for awhile.  I’d better accomplish something tonight.  Be good.

All my love,

June

(Tonight – greased, oil changed, and raring to go.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Write Lots of Letters

Wednesday, November 30, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June:

I’m going to keep right on writing even though I might see you this weekend.  Nothing’s certain.  I’ve just about decided to come in Sunday morning instead of Saturday after work.  I wouldn’t get there till 10.  I wouldn’t want to keep you out too late and then I’d have to find a hotel for the rest of the night, so I guess early Sunday morning would be better.

I went to bed about 11:30 last night and got up 11:30 this morning, twelve hours sleep.  How do you like that?  Did a few errands for my mother then worked the rest of the afternoon on my course.

Laurence Olivier and Jean Simmons in Hamlet (1948).

I saw Hamlet tonight.  You know what it was like.  As you would say, I can’t decide if I liked it or not.  It was a good picture though.

It’s too bad about your drapes.  I can’t figure out how it could happen.  You should have made them too long instead.  They would have been easier to fix.

The boss comes back tomorrow from his vacation so we have to take inventory.  Be good now and write lots of letters.

Lots of love,

Art

(Tomorrow – vacation postponed.)

© 2010 Lee Price

The Drapes Are Crooked

Wednesday, November 30, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Shirl and I are real proud of our progress with this room.  We’re halfway finished covering that terribly dirty chair – or maybe I should say Shirl is.  Really, the girl is doing a fine job on it (between the mistakes and laughs).  I ran up the drapes last night after writing to you.  They are going to be real crooked.  I’m sorry I can’t blame it on astigmatism as Shirl does.  Now tonight we are starting on the couch cover.  I can’t wait.  In fact, Shirl and I are both awfully impatient.  That’s why the sewing job will be awful, but we’ll still be proud.  The whole room will look more cheerful.  Then we’ll need a rug and ivy instead of that picture – but that will have to come later.  At any rate, you won’t recognize the room next time you see it – we hope!

Fabric textures
by
June Anderson.

Shirl just turned on the radio.  Guess what?  Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy*!

Shirl’s sister is coming out Thursday night (we will probably go to the movies that night) and staying till Saturday.  She has to buy some clothes and wants Shirl’s advice.

By the way, are you behaving yourself?  Not driving too fast, drinking too much, and running around with too beautiful girls?  I’m not really nagging you, just teasing a bit but also hoping you’re not.  Don’t forget to go and see Hamlet.

Tomorrow I am going to walk into this room and there – lo and behold!  A great big fat letter from a real nice guy named Art.  And you know what?  It’s so anxious to be read it just jumps right in my arms.  I can daydream, can’t I?  Only tomorrow I hope it will be fact instead of fiction.  Remember, I miss you.  Please make my dream come true.

                                                     All my love,

                                                     June

* Click "Play" on the old-time radio on the link for a sampling of Jack Armstrong.

(Tonight – Art's plans for the weekend.)

© 2010 Lee Price

I Could Never Go Three Weeks...

Tuesday, November 29, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June:

Oil painting of a view at sea by Art Price.

I stayed home tonight, didn’t budge out of the house, and got a little artwork done.  I don’t know how it is there in the city but we’re having awful weather, rain yesterday and today.  I hope it clears up before the weekend.  I don’t know what I’ll do tomorrow, maybe paint a little.  It’s too cold and wet out to wash or wax my car.

Have you heard anything from your old pal Jane?  She must be in with Mary and Helen by now?

Right now my mother’s sitting here playing solitaire.  I think I’ll hit the rack now – get lots of sleep this week to be ready for the weekend.

Don’t make any dates for Saturday night.  I’ll be there if possible!  I could never go three whole weeks without seeing you.  Good night for now,

Lots of love,

Art

(Tomorrow – more drapery problems.)

© 2010 Lee Price

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