It’s a somewhat nondescript box sitting on a shelf stuffed with similar boxes. A hand-lettered placard on the front of the box reads “Old Letters: 25¢ Each or As Marked.” This claustrophobic antiques shop is overflowing with objects of questionable value, but I believe I’ve just discovered treasure.
The cursive script on the folded stationery indicates the correspondent was writing in Benton, Ohio on October 27, 1930. The paper is in good shape, not brittle or yellowed with age. The deckled edge is tipped with gold; the blue ink is quite legible and easy to read. Elva is writing to tell her friend Marion the “literary” will be on Thursday instead of Wednesday, but as a place has not yet been designated, she can’t tell Marion “where to go to.”
I grab a handful of missives and head to the counter where I discover a 50%-off sale reduces my cost to $.75 for the bundle—a price I am most willing to pay for the privilege of reading the thoughts of those whose lives have passed and for whom their “letters” have not been celebrated.
The various dispatches are, for the most part, recitations of the mundane happenings in the writer’s life; the bits of “news” now readily found on Facebook postings or in text messages. There are references (implied and explicit) and asides requiring greater context for understanding the writer’s intentions. Yet, even in these brief snippets, a sense of character emerges, a sense of the tangible reality of the human behind the text. And there is passion and pathos.
“My Dear Billy: It seems as if I will never see you again and I am just as blue as indigo. Please come home in six weeks. If you suffered one half as much as I you would never leave me.”
Thus begins a missive from Frank. Billy is in a place called Rugby (Google tells me there is a Rugby, North Dakota), Frank’s location is unknown. Frank is in contact with Billy’s mother and she’s invited him over for supper on Tuesday after noting she also requested he not send candy since “she had sent you three pounds.” Frank adds “I can hardly wait until I ask her for you in October.” Later, Frank indicates he’s sent more candy via the morning train and cautions Billy: “Be careful not too eat too much for with the three pounds that your mother sent you will have enough for one hundred people.”
After indicating his Aunt Rose is going to Germany to stay indefinitely, Frank closes with another plea for Billy to come home:
“I would give anything if I could be with you if only for a few minutes. Please try with all your might to come home at the end of six weeks. I love, love you with all my heart and soul and I am as miserable as is possible for anyone to be. What on earth would I do without you? Your loving Frank.”
I hope Billy did come home to Frank.