Planning for Mother's Visit

Wednesday, December 14, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t pass on a little harmless gossip to me – especially when everyone else knows.  Poor Bruno but, as Shirl says, what else could he have expected if he knew Mary was dating?  Of course, it must have been very embarrassing to all – especially Mary.  Still it’s no wonder Bruno sounded odd, as you said Sunday.  How do you think he’s taking everything?

…

Just took a break and here I am again.  I had to put the letter up – couldn’t write and listen to the Lone Ranger at the same time.  Know what?  I like him.  He does good instead of going around shooting everybody like most of those programs.

I’ve been planning what I can do in the city with mother when she comes.  If we get a chance, I would like to take her to the Frick Museum.  That’s the one that was once a private house.  I know she would love it.

Sketches by
June Anderson.

Only four more schooldays!  It gives me a thrill counting the days as they grow less and less.  School gets nicer and nicer as we near vacation, with higher spirits, people leaving early, and work blissfully forgotten in the planning for Christmas.  I’ve accomplished everything I hoped to and still have four more days.  Of course, there’s still plenty of work – I just hadn’t planned on doing it yet.  Well, maybe I’ll get a spurt of energy.

I understand that you can’t come in this weekend.  You’ve come in more than I thought you would already.  I’ll be home in 7 days.  I hope they’ll be gone like a flash.

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – the 1949 Christmas Show at Radio City Music Hall.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Never Mind that Debutante Slouch

Wednesday, December 14, 1949

20 Cooper Street

Southampton, NY

Dear June: 

Even though I know you are awfully busy on your Historic Research project, I hope you manage to write a couple of short letters anyway.  No day is complete without hearing from you.

I think I told you all about Bruno’s car.  Poor Bruno.  A lot of people seem to think he forgot where he parked it.



Art's nephew Peter Lawrence.



Today was my day off.  I slept late and did some Christmas shopping in the morning.  I visited across the street with my Aunt Nin and little Pete (the baby) and had lunch over there.  Saw Frank Hoffman in the afternoon.  He was in the city yesterday to see the Veterans Administration.  He goes back to watchmaking school after Christmas.  Tonight I saw Holiday Inn, quite old but very good – you’ve probably seen it before.  Here I just saw Bing in a picture that’s ten years old and now I’m sitting here listening to him on the radio.

I wish I was there when you wanted to wrestle.  We could go on television.  On second thought, maybe we’d better not (go on T.V., that is).  And never mind that debutante slouch, I like you sweet as you are.

I hope I didn’t tire you too much, but after all it’s not my fault that you didn’t get to sleep till 1:30 Sunday night.  That really was quite a weekend and worth every minute.  I miss you.  I’m counting the days – only eight more – that’s eight too many.

Lots of love

Art

(Tonight – planning for mother's visit to the city.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Faux Pas

Tuesday, December 13, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

I called my mother Sunday after you left.  She forgave me for forgetting her birthday.

We did homework last night, so I didn’t get much sleep.  Today in school I was miserable and depressed.  Tonight I’m faced with loads of homework again.  My spirits are way down again.

So, I figured, why not do something foolish?  Like going to a double feature after supper and then stay up doing homework till 1 or 2.  I had a hard time persuading Shirl, but finally had my way.  I feel much better now, in fact, I feel good.  Mischievous in a way.  I enjoy doing things I know I shouldn’t.

Fashion illustration
by June Anderson.

I just designed a spring suit.  It looks a little homely. Now it’s time to return to historic research.

Know what I heard?  The debutante slouch of the 20’s is coming back.  They say I won’t be fashionable after Christmas unless I walk around with my shoulders hunched over and stomach sticking out.  Well, here’s one girl leaving the fashionable set!

I always seem to feel tired, except when I’m with you.  Of course, the way you hold me makes me feel nice and all over lazy.  There’s no more comfortable feeling than that.

It’s now 1 a.m.  Shall I do Historical Research or try to design a better suit?  I have to get back to work.  Night – Pleasant dreams.  I’ll send you loads of kisses.  If you were here tonight, I’d wrestle with you – I feel like it.  Hmmmm – miss you.

Love,

June

(Tomorrow – the talk about Bruno and his car.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Imagine Forgetting Your Mother's Birthday!

Tuesday, December 13, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June: 

Sketches by Art Price.

I worked a little harder today than usual since it was Bruno’s day off.  Tomorrow I have off.  I guess I’ll just take it easy.  It’s been rainy for two days so I probably won’t be able to do any work outside.  Maybe I’ll get some artwork done.  I did a little tonight – not much though.

I hope you called your mother yesterday as you said you would.  Imagine forgetting her birthday!  Be good and work hard, and please don’t leave too much work for your vacation.  I miss you – nine more long days to go.  Good night now,

Lots of love

Art

(Tonight – the debutante slouch.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Poor Bruno!

Monday, Dec. 12, 1949

20 Cooper Street

Southampton, NY

Dear June: 

Art and June.

I’m still thinking about that wonderful unexpected weekend with you.  Now I’d better tell you the news.

Poor Bruno!  He and Joe went to see the girls on Saturday night and you know Bruno was hoping to see Mary.  Well Mary was out, so he and Joe visited with Jane, Helen, and Lorraine till about 3 in the morning.  When Bruno opened the door to leave, there was Mary with her other boyfriend saying good night.  Poor Mary had no idea Bruno was in the city.  What a situation!  Everybody kept calm though, I guess.

Bruno has his car back.  He and Joe saw it as they were going into a bar about ten blocks from Mary’s apartment.  They called the police, had to take the car to the station, and prove it was Bruno’s car.  Lots of red tape.  The police think some kids probably took the car for a joy ride and then left it near where they had found it.  About a quarter tank of gas had been used.  Everything came out okay, the car is untouched.  They didn’t hurt it a bit.

They tried to call me then but couldn’t get anyone.  I don’t know why.  Later that night, they took out Jane, Helen, and Lorraine (3 girls, 2 boys).  Mary didn’t come with them as she had a date.  The guys left about midnight, got lost a couple of times, and reached home 3:30 on Monday morning.  (I’m glad I got the train.)

Of course, everybody in town has heard about it by now.

Only ten more days till I see you.  I miss you like everything but I’m sure I won’t be able to take another weekend.  I’d never hear the end of it.  I’ll be thinking of you though.

Lots of love,

Art

(Tomorrow – it's revealed that June forgot something important.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Dear Hearts and Gentle People

Monday, December 12, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

I didn’t get to sleep until 1:30 last night – we turned the  lights out early but Shirl kept talking.  I’m so tired today.  But I don’t care – it was great seeing you.  I could never have had a nicer surprise.

Do you know what happened to Bruno’s car?  I still can’t get over it.

Twelfth century historic research
by June Anderson.

Tonight and tomorrow I can’t write long letters.  Both Shirl and I have to slave over Historic Research.  It’s all due, from the twelfth century through the eighteenth (divided into quarter centuries), on tracing paper by Wednesday.  For the rest of the night, that’s what I’ll do.

…

I’ve worked three hours now.  Shirl and I went out and got a large bottle of cream soda, candy, and potato chips.  We just polished them off.  Gee, I’m full.  Well, I accomplished quite a bit of work.  This is just a rest, though, before I start again.

Just think, only six more days of school!  I’m jealous of your sister – she has even less.

I have to end this letter – my homework’s waiting – darn it!

Song on the radio – I love those dear hearts and gentle people who live and love in my hometown — no – in Southampton!

Hmmm-mmm, how nice it was to see you!

All my love,

June

(Tonight – Bruno's mess of a weekend.)

© 2010 Lee Price

A Whirlwind Trip to the City

Sunday, December 11, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June:

Statue of Liberty charcoal
sketch by Art Price.

This will be short.  I can hardly keep my eyes open.  But I feel kind of guilty about my trip to New York.  While I had such a swell time, Bruno and Joe had such a mess of it.

I got home okay in spite of the Long Island Rail Road.  What a railroad!  I’m glad I usually take the car.  Bruno and Joe were not on the train.  I looked from one end to the other.  Either something came up, or they found the car, or else they simply missed the train.  I wonder when they’ll get back.

I had a wonderful weekend, unexpected though it was.  Be good and take care yourself.  Remember me to Shirl.

Lots of love,

Art

(Tomorrow – weekend's over, back to homework.)

© 2010 Lee Price