Six Months Today

With the wedding tentatively scheduled for September 1, 1951, Art decided to address a long-standing health problem.  He was admitted to Presbyterian Hospital in New York City on June 12 for an operation to address the pain in his left knee.

Thursday, June 14, 1951

126 Lincoln Street

Riverhead, NY

Dear Art,

When you receive this letter you will be all finished your operation, thank goodness.  And I will be in to see you soon after.  I’m looking forward to seeing you so much, darling.

I’m glad you had a visitor the other night.  The only part I didn’t care for was that she was a tall single blonde.  Don’t get carried away just because you’re out of my sight!

I went to the movies tonight and kept missing you sitting beside me.  Along the Great Divide – that cowboy picture with Kirk Douglas – was alright, but Smuggler’s Island had so many double crosses in it that it didn’t make any sense at all!

Tomorrow you will finally have the operation over with.  Your mother has promised to call as soon as she hears news.  I’ll be waiting.  It’s six months today that we’ve been engaged, darling.*  I love you so much – I’m sorry I can’t tell you how much over the phone like I would in person.  But I have the rest of my life to tell you that – I can wait a short while.

I hope the cast goes on so it won’t rub your leg.  If it doesn’t feel right, let the nurses or doctor know right away.  They’ll take care of you.

I can’t think of any more advice to give you, darling, so I’ll go to bed now.  I’ll be in Sunday to push your hair back and hold your hand.

All my love,

June

* This reference clears up our earlier uncertainty about the engagement date.  Apparently, June and Art became engaged on December 14, 1950.

(For Saturday – The operation.)

© 2011 Lee Price

You Shouldn't Had Oughta Done It

Art's lettering assignment homework for the Partida Art School.

With the wedding tentatively scheduled for September 1, 1951, Art decided to address a long-standing health problem.  He was admitted to Presbyterian Hospital in New York City on June 12 for an operation to address the pain in his left knee.

Thursday, June 14, 1951

Presbyterian Hospital

168 Street, 5th Floor

New York, NY

Dear June:

My mother and sister got here about 7 and stayed till 8.  It was nice to see them.  And it’s sure going to be nice to see you Sunday, darling.  Thanks for the flowers.  They really are beautiful but you shouldn’t had oughta done it.

They are saying the operation will be early in the afternoon.  They’ll take me upstairs about 12:30.  Afterwards they don’t bring you back to your room until you’re conscious.  Don’t you be worried about me and the nurses.  You’re my one and only wonderful darling girl, you doll.  I hope I’m feeling good by Sunday.  The way everyone talks, I should be.

I guess I’ll roll over and go to sleep in a few minutes.  I feel like I’m going to be able to sleep good tonight.  I hope so.  I love you very much, darling.

All my love,

Art

(Tomorrow – Six months since the engagement.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Nothing Could Keep Me Away

With the wedding tentatively scheduled for September 1, 1951, Art decided to address a long-standing health problem in June.  He was admitted to Presbyterian Hospital in New York City on June 12 for an operation to address the pain in his left knee.

Wednesday, June 13, 1951

126 Lincoln Street

Riverhead, NY

Dear Art,

It was so nice to talk to you today.  It makes it easier being able to talk to you during the day – you don’t seem so far away then.

I hope you won’t be too uncomfortable the first few days after your operation.  It’s good your mother will be with you Friday and Saturday – I won’t worry so much about your being lonesome and feeling bad then.  I’ll definitely be in to see you on Sunday.  Nothing could keep me away.

You shouldn’t have such a flattering picture of me on your nightstand for everyone to see!  They will expect someone good looking – and it will only be me instead.

And no mentioning any particular nurses when you talk to me!  I’ll just hunt them down Sunday.  They won’t get near you anymore!

You’ll probably get this letter either just before or just after the operation on Friday.  All that matters is for you to get well – whether it takes a couple of weeks or a few months.  I promise I won’t let myself feel miserable when I miss you.  Don’t worry about how

I’ll feel.  Just get yourself well.

I’m still thinking about going to the movies tomorrow to pass the night away quickly.  I hope I haven’t forgotten how to buy a ticket!  Good night, my darling, and –

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – Thanks for the flowers.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Art's Visitors

Art, his mother Ada Belle Price, and his sister Dorothy.

With the wedding tentatively scheduled for September 1, 1951, Art decided to address a long-standing health problem.  He was admitted to Presbyterian Hospital in New York City on June 12 for an operation to address the pain in his left knee.

Wednesday, June 13, 1951

Presbyterian Hospital

168 Street, 5th Floor

New York, NY

Dear June:

I miss you so much, darling.  I hope Sunday gets here quick.  I called my folks up at seven.  My sister is coming in with my mother tomorrow afternoon.

I had a visitor tonight – a girl from Southampton who’s training here.  She didn’t stay long because she had to go on duty at 6.  It was nice to see a familiar face.  But don’t worry, darling.  You’re the only one for me.

A guy here who had his knee operated on showed me his scar.  It wasn’t bad.  He had his operation ten days ago and he’s walking around pretty well now.

I can’t seem to think of anything I haven’t told you already so I’ll just say, I love you, I love you, I love you.  I wish you were in my arms right now.  G-r-r-r-r.  You’d better watch out for me when I get home.

Guess I’ll say goodnight now.  I miss you very much, darling.  Be good, don’t worry, and I’ll see you Sunday.

All my love,

Art

(Tomorrow – Nothing could keep me away.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Don't Flirt With the Nurses!

With the wedding tentatively scheduled for September 1, 1951, Art decided to address a long-standing health problem.  He was admitted to Presbyterian Hospital in New York City on June 12 for an operation to address the pain in his left knee.

Tuesday, June 12, 1951

126 Lincoln Street

Riverhead, NY

Dear Art,

Well, darling, I was about to write to you when Miss Murray, the teacher who rents the room upstairs, came downstairs to show us the trouble she’s been having fitting a skirt.  Mother and I went up to give advice and stayed to talk.  I’m just getting back to the letter now.

How do you like the ink?  I bought some Parker’s Superchrome Ink today – it’s special for these pens.  I’ve meant to buy some ever since you gave me the pen.  I really think it writes smoother with this ink.

I miss you very much, darling (I guess I kind of got used to having you around!).  But I feel so relieved to know you are in such good care and have such a capable doctor.  I also have a feeling that it won’t be too long, after all.  However long, though, you will be better when you come out and that’s all that matters.  I love you – so don’t you dare flirt with any of those nurses.

Today at work, I asked Francis if she could be a bridesmaid on September 1 – if everything works out alright.  I told her all about your operation, too.  She says that any date in September should be fine.

Good night now, my darling.

All my love,

June

(For Monday – A visiting nurse from Southampton.)

© 2011 Lee Price

The Vital Statistics

With the wedding tentatively scheduled for September 1, 1951, Art decided to address a long-standing health problem.  He was admitted to Presbyterian Hospital in New York City on June 12 for an operation to address the pain in his left knee.

Tuesday, June 12, 1951

Presbyterian Hospital

168 Street, 5 Floor

New York, NY

Dear June:

Art on the beach, circa 1950.
His left knee had been hurting
him for years.

It’s so long since I wrote a letter that I don’t know where to begin.  Maybe I’ll tell you the vital statistics again.  Visiting hours are from 2 to 8.  I’m in Room 15 on the fifth floor.  This guy in the room with me seems to have quite a lot of pain.  He’s in a cast from his toes to his thigh.  They did something with his ankle.

My mother is coming on Thursday and plans to stay here for the operation on Friday afternoon.  I doubt if she’s here for the weekend though.  I’ve already had a few needles shoved in me and my leg shaved.

I’m looking forward to seeing you on Sunday, and I’ll call you every day that I can.  I love you so much, darling.  Your picture’s right next to my bed on the nightstand.

Be careful coming into the city.  Good night now, darling.

All my love,

Art

(Tomorrow – Asking a bridesmaid.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Art Hospitalized

Presbyterian Hospital in New York City.

“Art, how is your knee now?  Please, even if it is feeling better, keep doctoring it – after all, I’m hoping to dance the next time we go out.”

                                                                                June Anderson

                                                                                Letter to Art Price, Oct. 1, 1949

June and Art were engaged sometime in fall 1950.  Now we’re leaping ahead approximately nine months to June 1951.  June and Art had tentatively planned a wedding for early September but no definite date had been set yet.  Art decided to take care of an ongoing problem first.

Art had a bad left knee.  He’d lived with it for years but the pain seemed to be increasing recently.  His family doctor referred him to specialists at Presbyterian Hospital in New York City, and Art was admitted to the hospital in mid-June 1950.  Considered one of the finest hospitals in the country, Presbyterian Hospital was located on 168th Street in Washington Heights, a Manhattan neighborhood located at the northern tip of Manhattan.

During the winter and spring months when June was working in Westhampton and Art in Southampton, they saw each other frequently and therefore there was no need for their earlier letter writing to continue.  Then Art left town to check into the hospital.  Separated again, the letter writing resumed.  This time, however, Art was in New York City and it was June who waited impatiently for him to return home to the eastern end of Long Island.

(Tomorrow – the letter writing resumes.)

© 2011 Lee Price