Year: 1939

Editor’s note:  In April of 1939, all of the Republican forces surrendered to Franco and the German supported Nationalists to formally end the Spanish Civil War.  Also, General H.H. “Hap” Arnold, Chief of the U.S. Army Air Corps, makes a personal request of Charles Lindbergh to return from a four year stay in Europe and to review U.S. air readiness in the event of war.  Lindbergh spends four months touring U.S. Air Corps facilities around the country.

4/1/39

Darling:

I hope this doesn’t scare you, because everything is all right.  I shall put a note on the envelope to deliver to the south entrance and hope that you get it on Sunday.  Here’s hoping my special will also have good news when it arrives.

I’ll tell you the bad news first.  I had to cash $20 of my postal savings account about a week ago to get the bookcase and some other supplies.  I cashed my pay check today and although I am cutting things a little thin, I think I can make the grade.  I put $40 into Postal, making a total of $60 in that fund.  Then, now hold on tight, precious, I sent John a money order for $20.  I did it real quick before I should change my mind.  That leaves me just barely enough, $1.50 per day plus my room rent.  If I watch things, I should have much trouble.  If I do, I can always dig into the postal for an odd ten or so.

My bookcase received its last coat of shellac, and is almost dry.  When it is completely dry, I shall finish sanding it and then be as happy as a kid with a new toy (which I will then be).

Mrs. Brooks daughter and son-in-law from Boston dropped in last night on their way home from Miami.  We sat around and played bridge until two this morning.  Then, to top that off, I got up at 8:30 and worked on my bookcase for an hour, and spent two hours shopping and stuff.  Incidentally, I mailed your book to you this morning, and it should arrive Monday or Tuesday.  I spent a couple of hours trying to find a special blank form for some of my calculations, and couldn’t do it.  I only have four sheets left, which will be enough for the week-end’s work, if I am careful and don’t make too many mistakes.  I have reams of it at the office, but I didn’t remember to bring any home with me.

Ok on the enclosure from Bill.  I shall probably write to Stegall* sometime this week.

Well, my darling baby girl, I haven’t had any breakfast yet, and it is past noon.   I sure do wish you were here to do something about that situation, but I guess I shall have to go out to my favorite restaurant again.  It was swell out this morning, but it now looks like more rain.  This place is even wetter than Lafayette.  Take care of yourself, precious child.

Your husband, Cy.

*Friend of Cy’s, ham-radio acquaintance and Missionary who sent Cy photos from mission trips to Africa.

4/2/39  #1

Martha:

I don’t like to send things to the office, but I feel that you will get it sooner this way.

You will never know how relieved I was to get your letter this noon.  I sat around waiting for it, and didn’t get a thing done until it came.  And now I am too happy to settle down to anything.  I think I shall go out to lunch and then take in Yes, My Darling Daughter.  Joe Louis and Joe Venutti are on the stage, which should be good.

It didn’t seem possible that we could get kicked that far behind the eight ball, and I guess it wasn’t.  Thank Heaven for small favors.  Get that blood pressure up, honey.  You aren’t slighting that appetite of yours, are you?

I shall not answer your budget questions until I next hear from you.  You will have had time to read my letter of yesterday noon by then and may have something different to say, hi.

OK on Willy’s vacation plans.  Keep me posted, and I shall try to get out to see him off.  I shall also mention it to JH if I remember it.  I wrote to Stegall this morning and suggested that I meet him in Philly or NYC if it fit in with his plans.  Maybe I can combine the two into one week-end.

More grandchildren here last night.  One, Mary Lee, is about six.  Dark hair and coal black eyes.  I yet feel all woozy inside from being liked by such a swell little specimen.  She spent most of the evening sitting in my lap or hanging around my neck.  Was I flattered, and I mean that too.

Well, Darling, after that past two weeks of worry, I just can’t get used to being clear of it.  That’s had me scared for the past year, and concerned for the past four.  Now we only have one major obstacle to clear and a couple of minor ones.

I’m about starved, so I shall stop.  Thanks for the special and the information.

Love, Cy.

 4/2/39 #2

Baby Girl:

Now that it is all over, and I have had a chance to think about it and get used to it, I can write a little better letter.  I shall probably not finish it until tomorrow night and mail it then.

Darling, you’re OK!  I lost ten years when I read it.  Maybe, precious, the old eight ball is getting tired of trying to stay in front of us.  After four years of work, perhaps it is going to resign and gives us a chance.  Gee, I hope so.  I think the chief thing that I was afraid of was that you might feel that you had to back out of the situation.  Well, let’s forget that for a long time.

OK on the Battle-axe’s letter.  Another way of answering such things is to completely ignore them, just as if you hadn’t received them.  But use your own judgment.  It is generally more than good.

Do I remember the ping-pong I played with you?  Have I forgotten anything about those first glorious months with you?  Some, maybe, but not much.

As concerns the coat, if it continues to rain for another two weeks as it has in the past two, it will be warm enough to go without a coat.  On the real warm days, many of the fellows have already done that.  If I do really need it, though, I’ll promise to get it.

Your budget sounds like you’re going to town ok.  Nice going, precious.  Perhaps I need a little of your budget sense to enforce my careful estimates.

The rest of this may sound horrid, darling girl, but I think you will probably agree with me.  It is going to be awfully straight shooting, and I know you can take it.

If we can afford the excursion rate out here for you next fall, I am all for it.  You know as well as I how much it would mean to me to have you for even a day or so.  Maybe we could do it over a holiday, Labor Day for instance.  Let’s not plan on it, but let’s do our best to make it work out.

Now for the tough part.  At present, I owe John $173 plus interest.  He has not asked for it and won’t, but I intend to give it to him at a reasonable rate.  Call the total debt with interest $180 even.  I need another $40 in Postal Savings to total $100, which is what I should have for safety.  That meant that I have at least $220 to save to start out with.

Figuring that 20% of my salary will go to depreciation on clothes and equipment, I make $141 per month clear.  From this I deduct $1.50 per day for food and $4 per week for room.  The food also includes general running expenses.  This totals a potential savings of $78 per month.  This means that I should be able to clean up my debt to John and get the safety fund up to $100 by the end of June (2.8 months from date).  This will be within the time that I estimated when I borrowed the money.

Assuming that I shall have no family emergencies and that my baby girl doesn’t need any help, the following estimate should be valid.  If I go to school out here, and that seems advisable, I shall need about $800 minimum for the nine months of my senior year.  This could be saved at the above estimated rate in 11 months time.  That brings me to the end of May 1940.  By the end of the summer I could have an additional $230 saved, which, added to the $100 Postal account I should have this June, would make a total of $330 emergency fund.  I would then enter school and graduate, I hope, in June, 1941.  If I was short credits, I could probably hit the emergency fund and clean up the shortage in summer school.

That leaves me in June or September 1941 with no job and between $330 and nothing in my pocket, NOT a very good start for a married life.  Assuming again that I got a job at the same wage and that I yet didn’t have my folks to look after, I would have $500 again by either December 1941 or March 1942, depending on when I graduated from school.  With that, we would be safe in going ahead.  If we intended to lay in a stock of furniture, it might be desirable to wait another $500 worth, as I would like to have that much in the dog-house fund as a minimum.  It would be another year before starting the family.

So far, we have made the assumption that my expenses and salary will remain constant over the entire period.  If I continue to climb at the same rate as in the past, I shall be making $50 in March 1942.  This is only $2600 per year, but I think we should be able to manage easily.  The increase, you will note, is approximately $5 per week per year.

This stalls us off until 1942, which is a hell of a long time to ask my girl to wait, especially after waiting five years already.  But I don’t see any other sane way.

Since you’re the kind of a pal you are, I feel like I can talk this over with you without losing you in the process.  If you see a better way, say so.  I’m just speculating.

There are two points which seem to be fixed.  The first is that I don’t anticipate any spectacular increase in the Stafford Inc. yearly income.  It will be increased only by the sweat of our brows.  Secondly, until I get a degree, I am a concentrated nothing in this man’s puddle.  Without it my income has about reached a peak.  With it, my income hasn’t even started to increase yet.  With this in mind, if I stay in my right mind, I won’t permit myself to be selfish enough to marry you until that is out of the way.  After that, we can get my advanced degrees together.  One more dose like the Kennedy financial fiasco, in spite of all “of the contacts out west,” and similar allusions, would be a little more than my darling baby deserves to put up with.

You may not realize it, but if it hadn’t been for your wonderfully sane outlook on us, you would now have a Reno divorce and we would have been married.  I hate to admit that I formulated such a foolish plan but I did.  I don’t seem to be able to think clearly when I have you in my arms.

Honey child, this has been a hard letter to write.  Maybe it’s the old bugaboo popping up again.  I can’t live without you, and I can’t yet support you in the style which I know you must have to be happy.  Maybe that old ten-year estimate wasn’t so far off after all.  Please, darling, write to me and let me have your comments.  I must know truly how you feel about this and if you can see a better plan, or flaws in this one.

It has been a tough day.  The strain of waiting for your letter about wrecked me this morning.  And now the thought that my own little wife is perfectly healthy has to be spoiled by these rather terrific calculations.  But nothing can spoil those three smiles over there on the book-case, and I feel that nothing can prevent our eventual complete life together, distant as it may now seem.  Note, darling, that the 1942 estimate gives us roughly 10 years for our family, which isn’t too far out of line.

I shall be rather frightened if I don’t hear from you about this, so please do answer.  I need you pretty badly just now.  Oh, oh!  Three pages.  You’ll get another letter tomorrow.

Your true husband, Cy.

4/4/39

Darling:

I wonder when I will get over the habit of writing “March?”  It will probably be about April 30^th.

I just read your sweet letter, and since I don’t like you very much or something I am sitting down to answer it.  I never pay any attention to your letters, much.

So you’re starting to save things for us, uh?  Honey, you’re awfully sweet.  Knowing what you used to say and think about hope-chests, I can appreciate your action even more.  Any time little Mary Martha starts putting things away, like tea towels etc., she means business.  And am I glad to have her do it, especially (and I might say “only”) when I’m to be the lucky party.

You have probably been a little upset over my letter of yesterday, especially after the discussion you and Andy have had about when you are going East.  I hope you haven’t Darling, because I don’t want anything I ever do to upset you.  But please give me your honest comments on the subject, if you haven’t already.

Honey!  You aren’t holding out on me?  Why the Tuesday call on Doc?  Or am I too nosey about a little girl’s private affairs?

I guess Al Howell must think I am just waiting for a propitious time to bring you out here.  I got a letter from him, he is on his vacation, describing some apartments he saw just before he left.  Rent was $30 (apparently per month) unfurnished, consisting of bedroom, kitchen with automatic refrigeration, living-room, and bath.  There are five apartments in the building, which he describes as “one of those fine old houses in a splendid residential neighborhood.”  He should know about the latter, as he lives in one of the best suburbs of Philadelphia.  Of course I can’t do anything about it, and shan’t, as I want to save the shekels for later investment in the same sort of thing, but not alone, if you get what I mean. (As if you wouldn’t).

I’m exhausted, baby.  I’m about two days ahead of my schedule at the plant just now, but it costs me a lot in energy.  But there is no point in taking it easy now, as I yet have the hardest work ahead of me.  The set is coming along much better than I expected it to, so I am about due for a snag.

Gee, am I lazy!  I’m using the other side of the paper simply because I don’t feel like getting up to get another sheet of paper.

I went to the show Sunday and saw Yes, My Darling Daughter.  It was good, but reminded me too much of similar escapades.  The show (stage) was rather good in spots and awful in others.  They had Joe Venuti and his orchestra.

His violin was quite the nertz*, and his drummer was taps. (Tsk, tsk.  Even in letters to my wife!)  Vocal numbers were done by his baritone who was good, but looked like a pansy, and Neila Goodell (of Valley’s program).  She was quite good, and sang one of my favorites, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. 

[Click link to listen:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8NJ5_cJmGw  ]

They also featured an infant who had won a local talent contest.  She had a swell voice, but it hadn’t been well enough trained.  Then Hal Leroy (Hollywood) did three damn good tap numbers.  Joe Lewis, comedian (?) put on a fairly good act, although he was a little too plotched to do it as well as he normally does.  The funniest thing was when Joe Venuti, who is the heavyset Italian, imitated Mussolini.  Honestly, darling, he was a perfect copy of the big blow.  He puckered up his mouth in the same way, and shouted, gesturing with his clenched fist, in such a way as to make even movies of Mussolini look like copies.  He made a speech which was something like this: “Joe Spaghetti, father of ten children.  BAH!  Looka Tony Spitonio!  Father of twenty children!  Vive la Spitonio!  What we need is less whoopee.  We need more Woppy!”  Boy, it was a scream.

Now I remember why you destroyed the copy of JH’s letter!  That joke!  I couldn’t see why you should destroy it.  Gee, maybe it was a little strong for my little gal!

Feaven’s sake!  It is five-thirty and I yet have a couple of other letters to write and my laundry to fix up.

Sleep tight, tonite, baby.  You’re in my arms even if you are 1300 miles or so away.  That sweet little body of yours has been held close to me every night now for almost a year.  Here’s hoping that I won’t have to do it by remote control for too much longer, in spite of that letter I sent you yesterday.

Your husband, Cy.

*1920s-30s slang for “Awesome!“