June and Art

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

June's Birthday Cards

Celebrating June’s 21st birthday, 61 years ago…

First, Art’s birthday card to June:

And Art’s mother’s (Ada Belle’s) birthday card to June:

(Tomorrow – Weekend plans.)

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart

Wednesday, January 25, 1950

20 Cooper Street

Southampton, NY

Dear June,

Happy birthday, sweetheart!

Before I go any further I love you very much, you know. It will be wonderful if you can come home again this weekend. I wonder if I can be that lucky. I’ve been so lucky so far maybe it will keep up.

I found your watch in my ash tray today, so I decided to send it along to you. I hope you didn’t worry about it.

I’ve been home all evening reading True Magazine. It’s very good. There's an article on Joseph Dunninger*, the mind reader. Have you seen him on television? I’ll have to introduce him to you, along with wrestling.

Don’t get all tired out doing homework this week. Take breaks like you used to. Remember

me to Shirl. I hope she lets you come home next week but I’m not getting my hopes up too much. I’d better sign off now. I’m beginning to get drowsy. I love you, darling.

Love,

Art

* Nice clip of Joseph Dunninger exposing spiritualism tricks of the trade. The Dunninger clip comprises only the first four minutes of the video.

(This afternoon – June's birthday cards.)

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

A Birthday Present, A Day Early

Tuesday, January 24, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Does the writing look any different to you? It’s my new pen! Yes, I know, I should have waited until my birthday tomorrow but, gee, it got here today and how could I wait? Oh, it writes so nice and easy – I don’t need to press at all – it just glides along. Do you realize this is the first time I’ve even written you with my own pen? I’ve always used Shirl’s and you have to dip it into the ink constantly. Thank you so much!

Gee, I kind of wish it would go dry again. It’s fun filling it – you press it three times – I wonder what kind of material that thing is made out of that you press? It’s transparent.

Shirl and I decided to postpone going out on my birthday tomorrow – too much homework for both of us. I’m trying to finish everything possible so I won’t have too much to do while home this weekend.

I left my pocketbook on a bench in the subway station today and didn’t discover it until I was on the train. We got off at 59th Street ran upstairs, then around and down, and caught the next subway back to 50th Street. I ran to the bench and it wasn’t there, but the man sitting there said he just gave it to a station master who had gone upstairs. He advised me to go to the change booth to ask about it. So I raced up four flights of stairs to the change booth where the man told me to go back downstairs. So down four flights I ran again. And there at last was the man with my pocketbook. What luck! When he asked me to identify it I told him I had letters in there from you to me. It was about the most tiring half hour I’ve ever spent!

Two more nights of homework and then you. What a welcome relief. I love you till then.

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – Birthday greetings!)

Monday, January 24, 2011

Lonesome in the Big City

Monday, January 23, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Detail of watercolor
below.

I’m here in the room, all by myself and so lonesome. Too bad you couldn’t be here. Shirl won’t be back until tomorrow. Her sister Evie called me this morning to say Shirl had an attack of laziness – she worked hard all weekend and then slept all morning. She was still in bed when Evie called. Her mother thinks Shirl looks worn-out, undernourished, and exhausted. She should see me!

I don’t think I could live in the city without a roommate. It’s terrible, being here by yourself. When Shirl’s here we can talk and liven things up a bit, so I can pass the time faster. In high school I used to enjoy being by myself but since college I no longer like being alone. Well, tomorrow Shirl will be here. Then I’ll see if I can arrange to come home this weekend.

Did you work hard today? I hope not too hard. I didn’t work at all. Of course, that means I’ll have to make up for it over the next couple of days. Maybe it’s just as well Shirl didn’t come. I’ll catch up on some sleep tonight and perhaps – I say this with incredible optimism – I’ll get a new spurt of energy for tomorrow.

In school today I just loafed and talked to everyone in range – more talking than loafing. When anyone asked if I had a nice weekend I just smiled into space and said “Wonderful.” But they couldn’t know how wonderful.

Evening Gown watercolor
by June Anderson.

All my love,

June

P.S. Art, my darling – guess what time it is. It’s after 1 a.m.! I decided to do some homework after all. I drew a figure with an evening gown on, transferred it, colored it, etc. – anyway, it’s all finished. That means I’ve completed everything for watercolor class. And do you know why I did it? Because I’ve decided to come home this weekend. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Love and kisses,

June

(Tomorrow – June's birthday present.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Saturday, January 22, 2011

June Turning 21

June returned home this weekend, 61 years ago, and her impending 21^st birthday was certainly on her mind. Born in Patchogue, Long Island on January 25, 1929, she had grown to be a charming young woman, artistically talented and very in love.

June at two months, 1929.

June in Patchogue, circa 1934.

“I used to play with toys and dolls, but my favorite thing was using my imagination. Things like being the Jungle Princess. That was half my young life. I used to love to climb trees. There was one tree that we called the Candy Factory Tree. It was in the back of the factory yard right near my house, and it was this beautiful big tree that I could climb. While all the kids enjoyed climbing it, I was up near the top nearly all the time. And I just loved it. Of course, I wanted to rule the roost and so I was the Jungle Princess.”

-- from June’s recordings of family stories, 2003

June with her brother Ted, circa 1939.

June, circa 1941.

June (sixth from right) played cello in the Riverhead
High School orchestra, photo taken circa 1945.

June in her late teens, circa 1947.

(On Monday, lonesome in the city.)

Thursday, January 20, 2011

On Good Behavior

Thursday, January 19, 1950

20 Cooper Street

Southampton, NY

Dear June,

This will just be a short note. I hope you’ll get this early tomorrow.

Homework for Partida School of Arts
by Art Price. (Detail of textures at
top of today's entry.)

I was in Riverhead yesterday to get my new license plates. I didn’t stop at your house though. It was getting late and I wanted to get home and get the plates on before dark. I went to Partida’s Art School last night, had a pretty good lesson, and came home right after. I’m certainly on good behavior, aren’t I?

Tonight I’ll see the new Mickey Rooney movie. And tomorrow night you’ll be in my arms and I’ll be in heaven.

Take care of yourself. I love you.

Lots of love,

Art

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Heavy Reading

Sketch of a book by Art Price.

Wednesday, January 18, 1950

20 Cooper Street

Southampton, NY

Dearest June:

Good morning. It’s cloudy and windy outside but a beautiful day for me because I just got a letter from you. You had me worried at the start of the letter but it had a happy (P.S.) ending. I’m looking forward to Friday night and don’t you disappoint me.

I stayed home again last night while my folks went to see a Danny Kaye movie. I started and finished the third assignment in my current lesson. Then I read a book till after midnight. Heavy reading, too – Modern Arms and Free Men by Vannevar Bush. Tonight I plan to go to the Partida Art School for the first time since last fall.

About Bruno: He was over Mary’s house on Friday, took her out on Saturday night, took her to the train station – but still insists it’s all through. I honestly think it really is, too.

Take care of yourself and be careful in those subways. I love you, darling.

Love

Art

About June and Art

We have 180 letters that tell the story of the courtship of June Virginia Anderson and Arthur Werner Price. The story told in these letters begins on October 1, 1949, and ends on Sept. 1, 1951.

For the first eight months, the letters and supplementary information will be posted real time (minus 61 years). The final three months will telescope the period from June 1950 to Sept. 1, 1951, so that the blog will end on Sept. 1, 2011, celebrating an event that took place 60 years previous.

Artwork by June and Art, as well as period photographs, will accompany the entries.