From Betty (Louisville, KY)
Sept. 11, 1944
Today is the first day I haven’t worked. It’s fun just loafing around, but I’ll probably get tired of it before I start to school. I’m getting a nice rest anyway. I’ll have more time to write now.
Tomorrow night I’m having six girls in for dinner. We used to go around together all the time at Anchorage and I wanted to have us all together once before they went away to school. Get up on all the latest gossip and such.
Your mother has decided that in that picture you sent me of the Jap barge the word that was censored was Guam. You had written on the back- A jap barge somewhere around (censored). Is she right? Are you there now? If you don’t answer these questions I’ll understand that you can’t. We would like to know, though, if you can tell us.
Honey, try to write your parents as often as you can. They kinda like you, you know, and worry when they don’t hear. They realize you’re busy, but still it’s hard to keep from worrying. Even if you just write a couple of lines it helps.
We played records all day or rather this afternoon. They sure bring back memories. Hurry home so we can listen to them together. Look at me telling you to hurry home, as if you wouldn’t have been home long ago if you could have come. Anyway, I miss you terribly.
Horace thinks now that he may get a leave at Christmas. Wouldn’t it be grand if you could come home then?
What’ll we do first when you come home? I know one thing we won’t do—talk about the war. We’ll never talk about it if you don’t want to. Maybe about fifteen years from now you’ll be able to tell your little boy about it – some of it anyway. I can just picture that. He’ll look just like you did when you were a little boy. I know what you looked like too, ‘cause I’ve seen loads of pictures of you when you were little—blonde curls and all.
Don’t mind all this chatter. Just writing what I’m thinking about. What do you think about – I mean about when you come home? What do you want to do? I want you to be very happy. What will make you happy? I’ll do all I can to help. Tell me every thing, Jack, anything I can do.
This is an unusually serious letter for me. I’m just in a serious mood tonight. Excuse it, please.
Will write more soon,
- Betty worked at her grandfather's jewelry store in downtown Louisville while waiting to begin her first year at the University of Louisville.
- Horace---Betty's step-father, Horace Allen