Robbed!

Wednesday, August 2, 1950

112 West 86th Street

New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Sketch by June Anderson.

I was robbed!  That’s right.  Shirl came in about 5:00 and we took inventory.  Missing are:  my typewriter, Shirl’s lapel watch (more or less a family heirloom), Shirl’s steam iron, and three suits – two of Shirl’s and one of mine.  Mine is the brown one, which I liked the least of any of my suits – one thing to be thankful for.  I had my two favorite suits at home.  We can’t tell if anything of Betty’s is missing.  We told Mr. Silver and he called the police.  Shirl talked to them, too.  There’s really not much they can do about it – we don’t have identification marks and don’t remember any serial numbers.

I just can’t seem to think or write straight tonight.

So tonight I’ll only say I love you.  By the way, don’t change that Monday class back to Tuesday yet.  You can’t tell – I might be home again in a couple of weeks, darling.  Hmmm, I love you.  I’d squeeze your breath

away if you were here right now.  I wish you were.

I’ll be waiting Friday at 8 for you, darling. Be good, and don’t get in any accidents or flirt with any blondes.

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – Edward Everett Horton comes to town.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Don't Stay in the City Alone!

Tuesday, August 1, 1950

20 Cooper Street

Southampton, NY

Dear June,

Well, darling, I went to see the lawyer again today.  He called up the district headquarters in N.Y. and talked to the person in charge of the enlisted reserve.  He’s also sent a letter to him.  Anyway I guess we’ll get things straightened out.  I may have to go into the city though.

I didn’t paint tonight.  Secunda called me up to see if I was coming but I decided to wait till tomorrow night.  I went to the movies instead – The Flame and the Arrow.  It was pretty good.  Then I dropped in at Gene’s for a minute afterward.  All the guys shook hands with me and welcomed me back.  I didn’t stay long though.

It’s been an awfully hot day, with lots of humidity.  I hope it wasn’t too bad in the city.  Since I haven’t heard otherwise, I assume that Shirl must still be there.  Don’t you dare stay in the city alone, darling!  You come right home!

Boy, I hope you can read this sloppy letter.  I’m all out of practice writing.  I love you very very much, my sweetheart.  I’ll be looking for you Friday night.  Don’t work too hard.  (I know you won’t.)

Good night for now, my darling sweetheart.  M-m-m if only I could squeeze you in my arms now, and kiss you good night.

All my love,

Art

(Tomorrow – Robbed!)

© 2011 Lee Price

Things Are Missing

Monday, July 31, 1950

112 West 86th Street

New York City, NY



Dear Art,

I sit here alone tonight writing to you.  That’s right – no one’s here.

Something’s odd around here, darling.  My typewriter has disappeared.  I’ve looked all over and can’t find it.  I’m worried about that.  I’m pretty sure Shirl or Betty wouldn’t have lugged it home, but I’ll ask Shirl if she knows about it tomorrow.  I hope it hasn’t been stolen.  Other things were out of place, too.  Like my artwork.  It’s against the wall where I left it, but the portfolio the drawings were in is missing.  I don’t know what to think.

Fashion illustration by
June Anderson.

Maybe I should start from the beginning.

This morning, I packed my suitcase and wandered to the station for the 8:33 train.  I knew I was early – the station was almost deserted.  So I went into the paper store for a magazine.  When I put my suitcase down, the owner looked at me and said, “Where do you think you’re going?”  That’s when I began to suspect something was wrong.  It was.  It seems the 8:33 train doesn’t run on weekdays since the coal shortage.

So I came in on the 3:48 train.  I’m sorry now that I did.  No one is here.  I called Shirl and it seems that she caught a bad cold and went home early last week.  She’s promised she’ll come in tomorrow night.

I’ll be waiting anxiously to find out what the Veteran’s Administration lawyer told you today.  I miss you so very much but I won’t go into that now or I’ll get homesick.

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – Don't stay in the city alone!)

© 2011 Lee Price

Competing Interests

June's father Theodore Anderson, Art Price, and June Anderson.

“Don’t let your mother push you too much.”

                                                                        Art Price

                                                                        Letter to June Anderson, July 18, 1950

Pencil sketch by
June Anderson.

Judging from the letters, June had to deal with conflicting pressures from loved ones during her return to New York City in summer 1950.  Her mother had always been a strong advocate of women’s education and she approved of women with careers.  June received a practical education and her mother was pushing for her it put it to use now.  On top of all this, June’s mother loved New York City and the prospect of her daughter finding a good job there would have been very pleasing.

On the other side, Art clearly wanted June to give up the New York City job hunt and return home to Riverhead, where she’d only be twenty minutes away.  In his letters, he offers some minimal support for the job hunt but he’s unable to hold back his real feelings for long.

“Well I haven’t heard from you, so I guess you haven’t found a job.  I still like the idea of your returning home but then I’m selfish, as you know.”

                         Art Price 

                         Letter to June Anderson, July 19, 1950

Art probably kept these sentiments to himself while visiting with June’s family.  He would have wanted to keep the peace.  His real feelings probably only slipped out in the letters.

June’s mother was at an advantage in this situation.  As long as things proceeded smoothly, her mother could keep the pressure up, pushing June to pursue that elusive dream job in the big city.

(For Monday – something's wrong.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Oops! Forgot to Write!

Pencil sketch by June Anderson.

Thursday, July 20, 1950

112 West 86th Street

New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Darling, I don’t know what happened.  Somehow I forgot to write you a letter last night!  It’s not that I didn’t think of you, either, because I did – all night.  It’s just the letter I forgot.  Please forgive me.

I haven’t found any work yet and I call home every day in case they hear something.

Shirl has been depressed lately – I wish she would snap out of it.  She doesn’t like school anymore, wishes she were home, etc.  And then there’s always that business with Ted.

Betty and I went out for a nice walk last night.  Don’t worry, it was along upper Broadway – a very nice place to walk at night.  Shirl didn’t come because she didn’t feel like getting dressed to go out.

Tonight we’ll probably go to the movies again.  I try to keep busy all the time, so I won’t be so aware of missing you so much and the time will go quicker.

All my love,

June

P.S. Darling, I just got your letter and I’ve read it twice already.  How I enjoyed it!  Not that you told me anything
in particular – it’s just so nice to hear
from you.  I love you, too.  Now I'm
going right out to mail this.

Love,

June

(For Saturday – job hunting pressure.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

The One of You Is Beautiful

One of the few color photographs of June Anderson from
this time and possibly the picture referenced in the letter.

Wednesday, July 19, 1950

20 Cooper Street

Southampton, NY

Dear June,

I went to Secunda’s art class tonight and laid the mural out on the wall.  I’ll start painting next week, I guess.  And I just found out I’m chairman of publicity for this barbecue next week.  So I’ve been on the telephone tonight finding out about posters, signs, advertising in the newspaper, etc.

Remember I had some color film in my camera quite a while ago.  I just got it back today.  The one of you is beautiful.  You’ll have to come over to the house to see it.

Well I haven’t heard from you, so I guess you haven’t found a job.  I still like the idea of your returning home but then I’m selfish, as you know.  I do love you so much, my darling.

It’s getting late so I guess I’ll “hit the sack.”  I haven’t heard from the reserve yet but my mother says she heard over the radio that the reserves were frozen for now.

Take care of yourself, sweetheart.  Be careful in the city.  Good night for now my love.

All my love,

Art

(Tomorrow – forgot to write.)

© 2011 Lee Price

A Movie Star in Town

Tuesday, July 18, 1950

20 Cooper Street 

Southampton, NY

Dear June,

My darling, I love you very much.  How’s that for the beginning of a letter?

Van Johnson.

It seems like everybody in town (the female half, this is) has been loitering on the streets hoping to see Van Johnson.  He’s been around quite a bit.  Lots of people have seen him but not me yet.

By the way, Bruno had a date this weekend with a blonde from one of the summer stores.  He’s been trying hard to get acquainted with her.

I’ve been writing cards all evening and sitting around talking to my family.  I’ve got a couple of paintings ready to put in the Parrish Art Museum out here tomorrow.

I hope you’re not wearing yourself out job hunting.  Don’t let your mother push you too much.  I know this may mean I’m a stinker but I hope you don’t call this week.  And you know why you would be calling me – to say you’ll be staying in the city, maybe permanently.

I love you, darling.  Take care of yourself, my dearest,

All my love,

Art

(Tomorrow – The one of you is beautiful.)

© 2011 Lee Price