OLIVE COOLIDGE Correspondence 1942 Bob to Oggy APRIL

Pine Mountain Settlement School
Series 09: BIOGRAPHY – Staff
Olive Coolidge, Asst Nurse, 1941-1942
Olive Coolidge (1920-2008)
Correspondence 1942 April 2-30
Bob (Robert Butman) to Oggy (Olive)

OLIVE COOLIDGE Correspondence 1942 Bob to Oggy February

17 Photograph from the Olive Coolidge collection. [coolidge_post-car_1916029.jpg]

TAGS: Olive Coolidge, 1942 correspondence, Robert Butman, WWII, Pine Mountain, Youth Hostel movement, Washington, DC

OLIVE COOLIDGE Correspondence 1942 Bob to Oggy April 2-30

TRANSCRIPTIONS

[Note: Transcriptions are in chronological order and not necessarily in the order of the file number.]

002 Postmark: April 2, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 2, 1942
6:50 P.M.

Hello Darling,

Seem as though I’m a bit behind schedule in my letter writing, caused by a rehearsal last night. We had quite a time too – went through the play twice. Redeeming feature of the evening was the fact that I knew my part as well and perhaps just a wee bit better (haff haff) than some of the others. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have thought anything of it but before the rehearsal I had been asked in a rather belligerent tone whether or not I knew my part. Anyhow it’s all good fun.

Say Dearie I’m getting a big chocolate Easter egg for you for Easter, but unfortunately I had to order it and won’t be able to get it until next Thursday. Or rather you won’t get it until next Thursday – I’ll get it Tuesday. Doggone I wish I could be home for the weekend but right now I can’t see any way that it could possibly be arranged. Things are beginning to get busy, and there is no prospect of a trip to N.Y.

Finch spends all of the time running around like a chicken with his head cut off – trying to arrange everything for his trip. All is very hectic.

I’m sailing though H.M.D. esq., – perhaps not sailing – but getting along very well and enjoying it no end. Hmmm – “getting along well” sounds as though it were somewhat of a struggle, which is not true of course.

Would like to get this in the early mail so guess I’ll drop it in the box. I’m sorry you’re sorry ’cause it make me feel discouraged too, – and more lonesome than ever.

Your
Bob

003 Postmark: April 4, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 3, 1942

Hello Darling,

Yes – someone was cooperative. Both of your letters came today. And both were welcome.

Just got back from a long walk thru Rock Creek park. I started out from the house at about 7:15, thinking I would walk around a couple of blocks, and ended up a couple of hours later at “that church” at 16th and Howard. I believe it’s a Unitarian church. It seemed swell to walk thru the woods in the dusk and darkness. It’s so doggone quiet and peaceful up there, and the air smelled earthy and like spring while the breeze from the brook was cool and sort of fresh. Needless to say I missed having you with me in no small way.

I’m glad you’re getting along so well at school. Gee Dearie, sounds as though you would be an expert in no time at all! But shucks Dearie, you always do do well at anything you try – and the do do is not baby talk.

Darling, you make me feel none too happy about this September idea. If you want me to say, – I think we’d better wait until September – there it is. Your letters of last week seemed to be fairly satisfied with the idea – oh shut up, Robert, you’re just making it worse. I see your point all too well, and I don’t blame you for being a little peeved at my evasiveness. In fact, the more I think about it – the less I blame you. September it is – period.

Say darling, where will I meet you in New York on the 18th? Will you let me know what you are going to do as soon as your plans become definite?

A goodnight kiss (only one?) and all my love —-
Bob

004 Postmark: April 5, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 5, 1942

Darling – you don’t know how much better your last letter made me feel! For a couple of days I had been feeling as though I were a hundred thousand miles away from you – a very depressing feeling to say the least.

Of course I feel insecure quite often Darling – and oftener still I wish we were married – both natural feelings for anyone in love.

Just had time to dash off the stuff above before leaving for church. Yes I was conventional and went to church on Easter like everyone else. I was tempted not to go just for spite – but think it’s just possible I would go even if it weren’t Easter. Oh well – my mind works queerly sometimes as you well know.

I’m very glad I did go because our pal Ulysses Pierce did a very good – excellent, in fact – job of debunking the Bible and immortality. For those who want that sort of thing, it was really remarkable – although I suspect it would shock some people no end. Nevertheless I liked it. In condensed form he said: The Bible is poetry, not history. And – Immortality is the continuation of the spirit. Nothing startling in a way – but his logical manner of speaking make it quite worthwhile.

It’s about 12:30 now and I’m sitting in Meridian Park – you know the one on 16th St. – writing on my knee – no silly, not on my knee, on the paper on my knee. Which accounts for the somewhat illegible writing.

Such a nice warm day Dearie – Spring is here with a vengeance. I have a coat with me because I have a cold but it’s much too warm to wear it. How about a canoe ride up the river Darling? We could bask in the sun and have a generally good time? Hmmmm? Say that’s almost an idea; I’m tempted to take a ride myself.

The cherry trees are starting to blossom so I’m going down there as soon as I finish writing. Then I believe I will go over to the airport for awhile, just to look around. Unless it seems to be a better idea to go canoeing. Doggone it I wish you were here!

Say I’ve been kicking myself all morning that I didn’t send you some flowers to wear to church. Leave it to Robert to think of things like that too late. Seems as though you always did say I was slow.

Had another play rehearsal last night which accounts for the fact that I didn’t write. It’s sort of a dumb play, and I find it a little difficult to work up much enthusiasm, especially when none of the others seem to be taking it very seriously.

Don’t forget to find out about plans for N.Y. as soon as possible. I think I’ll ask for Sat. afternoon – so that I can leave here around 12 or 1 o clock. Then I’ll be in N.Y. about 4 or 5 and we can have the whole evening and all the next day together. Speaking of seeing you, I’m almost sure that Mr. Bly & myself will be coming up to M.I.T. in about 3 weeks! Don’t count on it too much but it looks now as though it is almost certain, since we have to see some people there about some of our work. How’s that?

Going back to September – although there seems to be no point in hassling it over any more than is necessary – I think that in the end we’ll be happier if we wait until then, even though it may not seem that way now. And right now it doesn’t seem that way! Meaning – I miss you and love you very much Darling. Meaning you are wonderful Darling..

Yours for always – and longer.
Bob

005 Postmark: April 6[?], 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 6, 1942

Hello Darling,

I see from your Saturday’s letter that my calling last night was a masterpiece of poor timing. However, better late than never I suppose. Anyhow it certainly did seem swell to hear your voice. Lord I wish I could call you up every night and talk for about half an hour – but why half an hour? Why not the whole evening. After all there’s no point in being a piker when you are wishing.

Somehow I feel you are still a little annoyed with me – and I think I see your point. After being so critical lately, then looking at myself —-. It makes me wonder what right I have to be critical; and no matter how much I try, the answer seems to be – “you don’t have any.” I feel so darned lucky when I compare you with other girls Darling – really I do.

All of which sounds very confused now that I read it over. What I’m trying to say Darling is that I love you very much and that I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt you. You can see that I’m in that sort of mood where you have me in the palm of your hand – not unusual. Darn – but I’d like to see you Dearie!

Thanks for the clipping about Tech – very interesting. Speaking of clippings – I’ve really chuckled over the last couple you sent. Very risqué ~~Deary~~ Dearie. How do you like that “Deary”? Just goes to show that I’m thinking of you. But to get back to the subject – the subject having changed, while you weren’t looking from clippings to books. Seems as though I haven’t had quite so much time to read lately, but every now and then I get a chance to take in a few chapters. It seems swell to have a good book handy to pick up now and then.

That’s too bad about N.Y. – We could have some fun there. However, it was a good idea. I still have hopes of getting up to Tech sometime within the next three weeks. Anything can happen in three weeks of course but I have my fingers crossed. Say, just when is June going to have her baby – is it May or June?

Went down and saw the cherry trees this evening. They are now in full bloom and very pretty. It has been very warm the past two days and it seems as though they have come out in no time at all. I want to take some pictures of them (it was cloudy Sunday so couldn’t get good ones then) but I can’t bring my camera to work because the guards will not let you take them into the building and they won’t keep them for you. Don’t know that I want the pictures badly enough to come way home after a camera or not. Hmmm – come to think of it, that wouldn’t do any good either ‘cause it’d be too dark when I got back. Such a business.

Got a letter from the Youth Hostel Hqtrs. today and found that the Hostel movement is just getting underway in Washington, and that one Paul Douglass, president of the American University – which I had never heard of – is in charge of things here. Called him and found that things are only about 3 weeks old. So says I, let me know if you need any stooges to help out. Says he – we sure do! I’ll let you know as soon as things get underway. Looks as though I may have gotten into something – I hope so because it certainly is a worthwhile effort.

I’m very glad you are enjoying school. It gives you something to do, and I imagine results in a certain sense of satisfaction.

That’s all sweetheart – well almost all. All except for the most important thing. The most important thing being that I’ll always love you Darling.

Your
Bob

006 Postmark: April 8, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 7, 1942
11:00 PM

Oggy darling,

Just got home from another play rehearsal – one that went very badly. So badly that we are going to have still another one tomorrow night.

And I have to get up at 5:45 AM tomorrow – as a matter of fact I have to leave here at 5:45 – so I’m about ready to go to bed. We are going on a little trip tomorrow – just a one day affair, but it promises to be lots of fun.

The pictures are rather asinine looking – to put it mildly. However comment will be appreciated. One was so horrible that I didn’t even send it. Lord I looked like a first class moron. Which reminds me of the poem:

The happy little moron
He doesn’t give a dam[n].
Oh to be a moron
My gosh! Perhaps I am!

Silly isn’t it?

Loving you isn’t silly though Darling. Yes we’re lucky. And Darling I am proud of you – very much so.

All my love,
Bob
P.S. If you have a chance – and think they’re worthwhile – you might show the pictures to the folks.

007 Postmark: April 10, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 9, 1942
11:15 P.M.

Hello Darling,

Well at last – that’s over. And what a relief. I’m talking about the play in case you didn’t know. It went off only moderately well, due in no small part to the fact that one of the women didn’t know her part, and the rest of us had to keep dragging things out of the fire. Ah well – such is life – it was good fun though, and I rather enjoyed doing it.

Say, that’s swell about your typing speed skyrocketing up that way. You’re doing all right Darling!

I don’t know what to say about the job offer – it’s sort of hard to pass judgment without knowing a little more about what you will have to do. I think it’s swell that you have the offer though. They must think you’re pretty good. ‘Course I knew that all along anyway. Write and tell me any details after you find out about it – huh? It wouldn’t be letting June down if you took a job would it? Might be an interesting job though – sounds sort of unique.

“Gee I’m sleepy!” I got up at 5:30 AM yesterday, spent all day on Chesapeake Bay tossing around in a small boat, got back to Washington about 8:00 PM, ate supper, went to a play rehearsal, got home about 11:00. Long day. Had a swell time though, I really enjoyed being out on the water –more than the other two fellows that went along I guess, because they were both a bit pale for quite awhile. I don’t like to brag but I felt fine.

I’d much rather have been with you in a sailboat though Darling – say, at Nantucket? That’ll be the day! And I hope it isn’t too far distant. Pardon me while I dream.

Goodnight Darling,
Bob

008 Postmark: April 11, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 11, 1942
8:15 P.M.

Oggy Dearest,

‘Scuse me while I yawn. I thought I’d collapse for a while after I got home tonight and darned if I didn’t fall asleep. Now I feel sort of groggy – but not so groggy that I don’t wish you were here. Shucks Dearie, home is no place to spend a Saturday night. – No I don’t mean that; home would be a good place to be – but not alone.

It sure seemed swell to talk with you, and I hope I didn’t sound silly about anything. It’s just that I didn’t want you to feel that I didn’t appreciate any of the things you do for me Darling. Having you buy my ties, my stockings, or send me books and cookies pleases me more than I say, I suspect. Probably I haven’t sounded as appreciative as I’ve meant to.

I’m anxious to hear what you find about the job. Don’t take it unless it’s really interesting and puh-lease don’t tie yourself down for any length of time. After all, you know you’re under contract to take on another more permanent and, I think, slightly more important job in a very short while.

So, Washington skirts are the shortest in the country? I guess you were right, it must be the shortage of men. All I can say is it must be some shortage. Say – I think there’s a pun somewhere in the word shortage.

Do your best to get to N.Y Dearie – that is, your best short of making yourself objectionable of course. Naturally it wouldn’t be fair to cheat your mother out of a trip. I sure would like to see you though —— I’m always wanting to see you. Monotonous isn’t it?

Yours always
Bob

009 Postmark: April 13, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 12, 1942

Hello Darling,

Speaking of pleasant surprises! I hardly expected to get a letter today – but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t glad to get it. Quite the contrary.

Can’t say that I’ve been very ambitious today. Spent the morning – until 10 o’clock – doing nothing but sleeping, and it sure was fun for a change. Then I went over to Rock Creek Park and walked until about 4:00. It was rather cool and windy today too —- !

Had dinner at the Balkan Room – you know the one with the music down by the Earle Theater on 13th st. It was good as usual, and I was considerably amused and entertained by a quiet little argument going on beside me. Lord Dearie, I hope we never argue over petty little details that don’t really matter anyway. I know we won’t though. It is discouraging to see people being so dull and so darned unimaginative.

I’m glad you like the pictures – and I wasn’t fishing for compliments when I said I thought they looked asinine. The one I kept really did look pretty weird, and one of the ones I sent isn’t too good. When you decide which one you want send ‘em back and I’ll have the prints made.

Dearie – anytime you want to be babied just drop around. I’ll be willing to accommodate you. Yes! Hmmm – visions of fireplaces go floating by. Say how do you like that – “willing to accommodate” – I hope you don’t like it. Lord, I give anything to be able to hold you in my arms.

All my love,
Bob
Don’t mind the pencil – can’t find my pen.

010 Postmark: April 14, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 13, 1942

Hello Darling –

Darn it all I wish I could find my pen – I hope I haven’t lost it. Life has been very quiet today – so quiet that I got a headache from trying to stay awake at the office.

Our new officer – speaking of the office – seems to be a rather decent sort, and I think that once he gets established he will be more of a go–getter than Finch is. I hope so.

Say Dearie, I see by the papers we are going to have a total blackout sometime between 9 and 12 tomorrow night. All streetlights will be turned completely off. Drop around sometime!

I have been spending a fairly inactive evening listening to the radio and reading one of your books. Nice idea Dearie – having something on hand to read. I always did say you were wonderful! And that’s something I’ll continue to say – and not sarcastically either – if you don’t object too violently.

For some unknown reason – perhaps because I’ve been working so hard – I’m kinda sleepy tonight. So for once I believe I’ll go to bed early – early being 10 o’clock.

Good night Darling, – with a kiss.
Bob

013 Postmark: April 20[?], 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 20, 1942
Blue Monday

Oggy Dearest,

Weekends are much too short – much. Of course that is not a new complaint – they never have been long enough. Somehow I’ve felt all day long that naturally I’d see you tonight. Sort of a “Don’t be silly Robert. Washington is the thing that is a dream, not New York.”

But I’m beginning to realize that that isn’t true – and so I’m beginning to feel very lonely. Being home alone this evening – and writing to you now – makes me realize that you aren’t here. That’s usually the way, –

Opps – there’s the telephone. And quite a surprise too – pleasant surprise of course. It adds emphasis to what I was about to say about – “that’s usually the way.” I was going to say that I usually miss you all of a sudden about a day later – slow as usual!

I don’t know for sure whether my opinion about the job is the best or not – but I do think that it might be something you wouldn’t care for. The work would undoubtedly be interesting but the living conditions might not be too cheerful. I think you would be just as well off to keep on going to school – help June – and have a good time. After all – you know it will probably be pretty horrible being married! So that’s my opinion for what it’s worth.

Speaking of sleeping for four hours – you lucky bum – they have been kidding me at work all day about the circles, whether they are imaginary or not, under my eyes. Perhaps there was some truth in it because I have felt a little bit sleepy. But you know I tire easily!

It’s now 9:25 – only about 10 minutes since you called – and I’d like to call you back already. You’re much too lovable Darling; You turn my “better judgment” into a shambles; you make me wonder how I could ever be critical with you. In short – I love you – more than ever. If that “more than ever” continues to turn up after every week-end it would probably become a little prosaic, but none the less true.

Yours always,
Bob

012 Postmark: April 21, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 21, 1942

Hello Darling,

Well — what shall we do tonight? Up Riverside Drive on the top deck, wander up and down Broadway, or just sit & – talk? Yup, it certainly was a wonderful weekend Dearie and better than ever as usual.

But I’m repeating myself – I’m afraid I was leading up to an “I love you more and more” climax – and you already know that ’cause I told you yesterday. Seems to be a persistent thought – must be so Darling.

Say – changing the subject, did I tell you yesterday that I bought Haydn’s Symphony no. 99? I didn’t? Well I did.

As far as the job is concerned I still am not too enthusiastic about the idea. Somehow it seems as though it would be a little dreary – although that’s purely speculation. Probably the word “institution” is what sours me on the subject. Then of course June might not appreciate it. But do whatever you want to do most Dearie – if you really think you would like to (which I don’t think you do from the way you sounded over the phone) – then go to it.

Had fun at work today. A fellow from a commercial company, and a capable person too, jumped at a suggestion that I had been trying to get the Labs to try for weeks – without success. It was even more fun ‘cause the uncooperative fellows from the Lab were there. Score one for our side.

By the way darling, were you planning to get something for “Cousin” Florence? If you do I want to put my two bits worth. And speaking of buying things, don’t forget to keep your eyes open for golf balls. I think I’ll be able to get ½ doz. this Thursday for a mere 40 cents apiece but I’m not sure.

And Darling – did I ever tell you; you are very lovable?

All my Love,
Bob

014 Postmark: April 22[?], 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 22, 1942
11:00 P.M.

Oggy Darling,

Time out while I read your letter over for the umpteenth time and stare at the ceiling. But come, come, Robert, you’ll fall asleep – or slip into a dream if you don’t come back to earth – much as I dislike to.

It’s just that your letter makes me feel warm all over. Probably because all of your assumptions are so true. You are tops Dearie, any and all compliments offered were sincere and spontaneous, married life does look rosy, and the femininity problem is passé. Why Dearie, they could call us the harmony twins. Except that I don’t want to be your twin – Naturally I want to be your big brother. Heh! Heh!

Incidentally, you don’t suppose the System was partly responsible for the lack of discord? It well might be because it certainly was a wonderful system. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m not attributing everything to that by any means.

Went to a movie this P.M., just for amusement. Just for what? Oh well, you figure it out. It was somewhat weak in plot but rather entertaining. When I got home Joe was hopping around all excited because he had finally been notified that his commission had gone thru. Good for him!

Well Dearie, it’s 11:30 – guess I’d better get some sleep. But just because I stop writing doesn’t mean I stop thinking about you.

Yours always,
Bob

015 Postmark: April 23[?], 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 23, 1942

Hello Darling,

Do you happen to know where this week has disappeared to? For some reason it seems to have slipped by unusually fast – making last Sunday seem years ago.

Had a rather interesting conference today. Met a fellow by the name of Major Armstrong, quite famous in the radio field, and the fellow who invented the Frequency Modulation (“FM”) receivers you see advertised in the magazines. Quite a boy – but getting a bit old and tottery.

Say Dearie, if you would tell me what I’m supposed to apologize for, I suppose I could write a note to Cousin Florence. Just what “slipped out” that horrified your mother? I’m sorry abut your conscience, it makes me feel rather badly – it makes me feel as though there were regrets of some kind?

But I suspect I’m being unkind – but I’m not keen about apologizing for something when I don’t know what to apologize for. Guess my conscience isn’t as guilty as it should be. Or perhaps I’m not considerate of my hostess. Oh well, ‘nuf said.

Slight pause while I write her the letter. ————————. I trust I bowed low enough.

Don’t know about Tech, Dearie. Nothing has been said about it for some time now and I haven’t any idea whether or not the trip is still in the offing. Probably not for a while anyway – if at all. I sure would like to get home again – I’d like to see you again already – Already? What are you talking about Robert – that started last Sunday night at 6:00 PM – wanting to see you.

Your
Bob

**********

Dear Cousin Florence,

I just want to supplement Oggy’s thanks to you for being so generous to us last weekend. Needless to say, your hospitality was more than appreciated. Hostesses as gracious as yourself are extremely rare – and that’s not an idle bouquet.

And incidentally, I hope you’ll forgive Oggy and I if we were in any way inconsiderate. There’s a distinct possibility that in enjoying ourselves we were not as thoughtful as we might have been -however, I hope not.

**********

Period.
O.K.??

016 Postmark: April 24, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 23, 1942
10:30

Hello again —

Dearie – I’m a dope. Sometimes I wonder at the letters I write. I was a dope to be peeved – and for no particular reason at all. It just bothered me to hear “conscience” again – made me a bit sarcastic I guess.

Then darn it all – I love you so much that I can’t be peeved, and express it, without feeling sorry afterwards. Am I forgiven?

Yours always,
Bob
P.S. Or wasn’t the letter as bad as I think it was?

017 Postmark: April 26, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 25, 1942

Hello Darling,

I’ve been spending the past 15 minutes counting to ten – literally & figuratively. Hell Dearie, I wanted to talk with you so badly tonight – I couldn’t refrain from speaking rather plainly to the world in general. Sometimes I wish I had a better vocabulary.

But it isn’t your fault Dearie, I should have guessed that you might be out and called later. You might know that in trying to save a little money I put in a station to station call instead of person to person. If I had done that there wouldn’t be any gripe at all.

Your mother sounded a little bewildered when I told her I called to express my sympathy “About what?” says she. But that isn’t the only thing I wanted to say. I wanted to tell you most emphatically to please ignore the droopy letter I sent the other day. Sometimes I do very queer things for unknown reasons.

And I had sort of planned to tell you how much I love you but I never could have done that in six minutes so perhaps it would be just as well to wait until I can do justice to the subject.

Then there was the matter of three pairs of socks – darned good looking ones too. It was sweet of you to get them Darling and I appreciate it no end. I only wish I could give you more adequate thanks.

The letter which came today sounded as though you were a little weary, but it was one which made me miss you more than ever. I [hoard] letters like that – reread them like a miser fondling his gold and letting it trickle thru his fingers – all the time mumbling to himself, all the time (double talk). Well perhaps not quite that bad – but I do read them over more than once.

Say, I bought Brahms’s no. 1 in C minor today – following your orders. Looks as though we’d have quite a collection soon. I’ll have to see if I can find someone who can drill a couple of pieces of metal for me so I can build up this phonograph.

Gee, I’m sorry to hear about Wendell. There’s no use denying that he’s my favorite of the three. He’s such a cute little devil – I hate to think of him being sick. I hope it turns out to be nothing too serious.

Ah yes – golf balls. I think perhaps it might be a good idea to get a half dozen anyway. The ones I bought were $4.50 per dozen – which isn’t much different than $4.95. So why don’t you get a few next time you have a chance?

Guess you haven’t been feeling quite up to par lately – one of the reasons why I wanted to talk with you tonight – a word of sympathy perhaps – if you’re interested in a little sympathy? A LITTLE sympathy? What am I saying?

Had a bit of a cold lately myself. Didn’t go to work this morning in fact. Which is why I didn’t write last night, I don’t have the energy. What I would have given to have had you here to rub my back! Or is that your line?

Darling you’re so lovable, and I love you so much that ——– well I just wish we were together – ’cause I miss you always.

Yours for always,
Bob

Check is for gold balls if you want to get ’em.
Bought another bond today – that makes two we own now.

**********

Good Morning Darling,

All I can say is – it’s a dirty shame. It just isn’t right for a little fellow like Wendell to be so sick. And Lord knows Dot & Mahlon have enough trouble without adding any more grief. Say Oggy, being a mercenary sort at heart, knowing their financial status, and knowing that a thing like this is more than likely to be expensive, do you suppose it would be the wrong thing to do for me to send them some money? Or would they be insulted? Being as far away, that seems to be the only material thing I can do. What do you think?

I’m crossing my fingers & hoping for the best.

Yours — Bob

018 Postmark: April 27, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 26, 1942

Hello Darling,

Somehow I can’t quite make myself believe that I talked with you last night. In fact I felt that way so strongly when I was writing to Dot this afternoon that for a minute or two I almost felt silly writing as I did. But I suppose that’s wishful thinking on my part.

I wrote a very short note to Dot. It seemed useless to bother her with a long letter – better to let her know that I’m cheering for her and for Wendell and stop at that. I hope I’m right and that she doesn’t feel that I just carelessly tossed off half a page when I had a spare minute.

Incidentally, —————– Boston calling.

Well that’s not too cheerful, but I guess it does sound a little more hopeful than the last report. It just isn’t fair though – for a little fellow like Wendell to be so sick. Or am I repeating something I said this morning? – Well it’s still true.

I don’t just know why I didn’t go over & get your letter today after you went to all the trouble of writing it and getting it down here just so I would have it today. And the more I think of it, the more I can’t understand why I didn’t go over this afternoon instead of going paddling on the Potomac. Perhaps I thought I’d be closer to you – communing with nature so to speak. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case – there were too many people and too much, ah shall we say, promiscuity? It was very hot when I got back to town and somehow the ride to Alexandria on a none too cool bus seemed a bit unpleasant.

You have a perfect right to be thoroughly disgusted with such lack of cooperation on my part. And I’m not being sarcastic in saying that.

I think it’s swell of you to give some of your blood Darling – you couldn’t do anything that would be appreciated any more, I know.

Darling I don’t know how it can be possible but I love you more and more every day. I’d give anything if we could be together tonight. I feel like Skeezix in the comic strips who signed one of his letters to the girl he’s engaged to.

As never before,
Bob

Looks lonesome over here.

011 Postmark: April 27[?], 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 27, 1942

Darling – what can I say after getting a letter like that? It’s a good thing (?) I didn’t go over and get it last night because if I had, it’s about an even bet that I would have taken the next train for Boston. Well – perhaps not – but it certainly would have been a temptation. Not that it isn’t always a temptation, but it would have been even more so last night. Or perhaps I should say was and is – but I’m getting very confused, and if you aren’t thoroughly tangled up by now you can read my thoughts better than I can. Hmmmm – not impossible at that!

Just in case I have[n’t] made myself clear, what I’m trying to say is I love you, I love you, I love you (this could go on for several pages). You’re everything to me Darling. And Darling, you need never worry about my being proud of you. If I ever stop being proud of you you have good reason to suggest that I be carefully examined for acute insanity. Whatever acute insanity may be.

I hope your optimism about Wendell was not unfounded. But as you say I guess there’s nothing to do except be philosophical about the whole situation. Wendell, on the other hand, won’t, I hope, be that way. He’s the only one who shouldn’t be, if he were old enough to realize it.

It’s funny how that “I wish I were with you” keeps coming up. Seems as though it runs through both our minds a good deal of the time. Perhaps we should do something about it Darling.

All my love – also [?]
Bob

019 Postmark: April 29, 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 28, 1942

Gee Darling – it’s such fun to talk with you, and it makes me feel as though we were so much closer -. I just wish we could talk with each other every night – or better still be together.

I’m sorry I don’t deserve all the compliments you throw at me Darling. Lord knows I wish I did. I know darned well that you’re doing twice as much, and being much more helpful than I ever could be. You’re just plain – no I won’t say it. Wonderful isn’t nearly good enough. Words fail me darling – and that is not just an expression – I mean it.

That idea about sending Dot & Mahlon something for Wendell’s birthday is a good one. Unless I’m mistaken his birthday is on the third, or is it the 4th. Which did you say? I never can remember which is his and which is Barbara’s.

Darling, if you’re feeling tired, why don’t you ease up a little on housework or cut school now and then? There’s no point in working too hard. Besides Darling you give me a guilty conscience!

By the way, I sent the pictures along tonight. There are, as you will probably be able to tell, three of them. You can keep one – that should be enough. Unless you really want two – but I’m not quite conceited enough to think that you’ll want more than one. The other two should go to Dad I guess – he can do whatever he wants to with ‘em. Maybe you’ll want to give him all three.

Why do I insist on spelling miracles that way? Well anyway, as I was about to say when rudely interrupted – faint signs of activity were apparent at the office today. Everyone had been lapsing into a somewhat more lethargic state than usually and when Lt. Hurvitz remarked yesterday in a rather bewildered tone that there didn’t seem to be much going on, I exploded rather violently for me. In fact I talked for something over an hour without stopping, – except to take a few deep breaths.

I aired several ideas & opinions that I had been saving because as a general rule, ideas – or at least aggressive ideas – get squashed. Mr. Bly worries about losing his job I think, since he has a family to support. Consequently he dislikes violence. Meanwhile I sit around fairly seething at the lack of initiative being shown. I could scream at this business of being so darned careful about offending or bothering some office, or breaking a few regulations. Boy I’d like to have charge of that section for about two weeks. Probably I’d be fired at the end of that time but I’ll bet something would have been accomplished. ‘Scuse me for bragging Dearie -.

Guess I’ve rambled on enough about work. After all, there are other things more important than work. Such much more so, that work sometimes seem very insignificant. Meaning that if I could just reach up and turn out the light, roll over and put my arm around you and murmur Goodnight Darling, life would be wonderful.

Yours,
Bob

020 Postmark: April 30[?], 1942, Washington, D.C.

April 30, 1942

Hello Dearest,

Seems kinda silly to be sitting around here doing nothing when I could be writing to you. Well why not? I was in a conference with a batch of other people, but it was hot, and getting a bit boring, so I suggested since there was absolutely no one in the office I should come back and see that none of the desks walk off. We could be severely criticized for leaving the office empty during the day too. So here I am – good idea?

Life seems to be sinking back somewhat into the same lethargy that was apparent before the brief outburst of a couple of days ago. I sure do wish I had a few sticks of dynamite which could be placed judiciously. It all reminds me of the story about the mule. You know, the one who moved just far enough to burn the cart when a fire was built underneath him. Oh well.

Got my draft questionnaire yesterday and spent some time filling that out. It took quite a while to figure out just how to write up my job so as to make it sound important – as you can well imagine! I think I finally cooked up something that sounds fairly reasonable but is just ambiguous enough to make it sound as though it were very secret.

**********

7:00 P.M.

Well well, pleasant surprise – I found not one, but two letters waiting for me tonight when I got home. And very nice letters too! But that’s getting to be a monotonous comment I suspect – all of your letters are wonderful. What we would do without letters I don’t know.

Thanks for sending all the Tech news. It’s sort of interesting to read all the dope and think about going through the same thing about a year ago. Especially Senior Ball – how I’d like to do that again! Feeling the way we do now we probably wouldn’t be able to do anything but sit and stare at each other. Why dance?

Very swell note you received from Cousin Florence – but you aren’t the only one who got one. She must have thought it a bit queer that we both had a guilty conscience!

I’m going to send Dot a present for Wendell tonight so, although she may not get it tomorrow, she should have it Saturday. I think I may as well send it in my name – you’re certainly doing more than your share as it is.

It’s an idea Dearie – what about July? Meaning I miss you very much, want to be with you very much, love you very much.

Yours always,
Bob

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021 [No Envelope] April 26, 1942, Brooklyn, N.Y.
[Cousin Florence to Olive and Bob]

Olive, dear,

It’s really difficult for me to see your visit to me thru your eyes if you’re blaming yourself for lack of anything at all. It was a great pleasure and treat for me to have you here to spend the nights with me – and I was so glad to meet and feed your Bob for those two breakfasts. I thoroughly approve of the new cousin-elect and thank you for making it possible for me to meet him.

So my dear, if you have any slightest feeling that there was any remission on your part please forget it for I was conscious only of the pleasure I was getting from your being here.

I do so regret that I’ve not had the chance to know June and her family yet – but I hope for it.

With love to all my Coolidge cousins,
Affectionately,
Florence
April 26, ’42

**********

April 26, ‘42
…Brooklyn, N.Y.

Dear Bob,

The points of view between entertainer and entertainees must be very different – for I thought I had last week two very delightful guests. Surely there should be no blot on your conscience for lack of consideration. It was a joy for me to have Olive with me – and you for two breakfasts. I am free to say that I’m most pleased with my new Cousin-Elect.

Cordially,
Florence L.S.