Tag Archives: cars

September 27, 1925 (Ina)

Sunday Nite.

9/27/25.

Dearest Sweetheart:

No, I didn’t go to church four times today – I went only once, and that was this morning. I think the Sunday School will thrive after I leave, because, as I was absent this morning, they had 306 present which is the largest attendance they have had for years. Our Mississippi cousins were here so I didn’t go. They are going to leave in the morning.

September 27, 1925 (Ina)

September 27, 1925 (Ina)

By the way, I have a confession to make. I am practicing one hand driving!! You perhaps wouldn’t mind if you had been sitting beside me, but you weren’t – nor was anyone else. I was all alone, driving with one hand and holding your letter with the other and reading it all at the same time. I went by the post office after church this morning and found your Wednesday’s letter and, as it was sprinkling rain, I decided I had better not stop to read it until I reached home. I might have known I couldn’t wait that long, so, as soon as I passed through the business part of town, open came the letter and I got quite a thrill out of reading it, even while driving in the rain.

Ray and his wife visited Miss Zoe yesterday and Thelma called on her. She likes her very much. She says she is pretty, sweet, and that they seem to be very happy. I’m so glad. If they love each other as much and are as happy as you and I are and are going to be, I think it’s great.

I love you Sweetheart, and wish and wish for you. I’ll be so happy when I can be with you again.

Always, your own
Ina.

August 14, 1925 (Ina)

Friday Nite
Aug. 14, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

We reached the top of the hill this evening in time to see the sun set and it was gorgeous. I don’t see how Nature can clothe herself in so many beautiful colors. Such a scene as that gives a person such a quiet, peaceful and restful feeling. But, Dear, it made me long for you because it reminded me of the many happy evenings this summer when I sat in the swing and watched the sun set while I was waiting for you to come. In fact, there are very few occasions on which I don’t think of you and then when I wish for you so much that I get lonesome I console myself by realizing that you will be returning before so very long and we hope we shall never be separated so long again, don’t we? Yes, my day’s work is interesting, especially so when I am working on something for my “hope chest,” but even that does not keep it from being hard to wait to see you.

August 14, 1925 (Ina)

August 14, 1925 (Ina)

I am glad you have found some work for Dr. White that will make a more agreeable working companion out of him. I sincerely hope you have found the thing you have been working for this summer, and I am especially glad that you were responsible for leading up to it. Here’s wishing you every success possible.

Goodnight and sweet dreams and all my love.

Yours always,
Ina.

Saturday Afternoon.
Aug. 15, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

I wonder what you are doing this typical summer afternoon. I have just had a nice nap, and although it was very warm I feel very much refreshed. I suppose while I was sleeping you were as busy as a bee. I imagine that it is cooler and more pleasant to work there than it is here.

I notice in the “Uvalde Leader News” that all the Reagan Wells people have returned to Dallas except Dr. and Mrs. Roark. He has gone to Washington but she is going to remain at the Wells until cooler weather. She must like it up there very much. I suppose she doesn’t get lonesome as the paper states that there are a number of guests at the

The rest of this letter is currently missing. I’ll append it to this post if it turns up somewhere in the rest of the series.

hotel now. I imagine it is much cooler there now than it is in Uvalde.

I also notice int his week’s issue of the “Leader News” that it is going to begin another automobile contest soon. “A big automobile Free! Easy!!” “Win a handsome car during your leisure hours the next few weeks,” “Just a little perseverance and the automobile is yours!” etc. etc. You know how they advertise. It almost makes me sick to think of anyone having to go through all that work, worry and mental anguish that I had to go through. They have already asked me to enter, but I asked them to please count me out. Good luck to those who want to try it but never again for me! I am mighty glad I entered the other because I won, but the uncertainty is terrible. My one successful experience satisfies me completely for all the years to come.

Claudelle is going down town now so I must rush this.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Yours forever,
Ina.

July 31, 1925

Friday Night.
July 31, 1925.

Dearest Walter:

You will notice that this is Friday. Furthermore, the wind blew a large mirror we had hanging on the back porch down, breaking it. Now are you ready for the “hard luck” story? Well, while we were down town this afternoon getting the gasoline tank filled the starter refused to work and, after careful examination, the man announced very calmly, that I would have to buy a new battery. Oh, it was only around $35.00 for a Willys-Knight. I didn’t quite faint because I realized that I had had the car for over a year and a half and this was the first expense. However, paying $35.00 for a battery without any warning whatsoever didn’t appeal to my sense of humor, nor was it my idea of a good time. He put in another one and said he would try to charge mine but didn’t think it was strong enough to stand it. I left him with prayers that it would. So that’s that.

July 31, 1925

July 31, 1925

We were at Thelma’s for a short while this evening and Mrs. Parman and Miss Zoe came over. Mrs. Parman told me of the letter they had just received from you and of what she had written you in reply to what you had said of Mervin’s roping etc. She told me to tell you that she thought she had saved Merwin the trouble of helping you rope the “dear” as she had already helped accomplish it. She is almost like a child in her enthusiasm over something she has helped to accomplish. I love to see her enjoy it so much, and am mighty glad that she can get so much genuine pleasure out of our happiness, aren’t you? I like Mrs. Parman so much and I am sure that she would be a great deal happier if she would think of pleasant, happy things instead of the unhappy and unfortunate things on which her mind dwells so much of the time. Her many years of ill health of course have caused this state of mind.

Sweetheart, I am awfully sorry you are having such a time with Dr. White. I am glad you told me of it because, as I have often told you, I am interested in everything you are interested in, and I want you to feel as free to tell me your difficulties as you do to tell me your pleasures. That will draw us closer to one another because, as we know the likes and dislikes of one another we can have a clearer understanding. Dear, I love you so much that I want to live your life with you with all its ups and downs. I don’t want you to feel like you should keep any of them as a secret from me, because you mean the world and all to me. You just don’t know how very, very much I do love you. How I do wish you were here right now! But, back to the subject of Dr. White. I don’t blame you for resenting some of the things he does, especially if he is trying to get more of the credit for himself. You have worked hard on it and certainly deserve all the credit you have gotten – and then some, and it is certainly not true to human nature to sit quietly back while someone else steps in and tries to walk (I suppose the word “walk really expresses too swift action for Dr. White, but I can’t think of a more approproiate word unless it is “creep” and I imagine you have heard C.E. so much that you are tired of it) away with the laurels. I’m for you strong. I sincerely hope it will come out all right and I believe it will.

Goodnight and sweet dreams.

Lots of love,
Ina.

Saturday night.
Aug. 1, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

A broken mirror on Friday does not mean bad luck. Papa ‘phoned the garage this afternoon and inquired after the health of the battery and they said there was nothing wrong with it – only a wire broken, a loose connection or something. Anyhow, everything’s lovely.

It is so nice and cool tonight. We have been on the verge of scorching for several days but last night we were blessed with a tub full of rain water (I washed my head in it and can’t do a thing with it) and it has been lots cooler ever since. It is so nice and cool tonight that I believe a blanket will be comfortable. It reminds me of autumn and gives me a thrill of joy when I realize that today is the beginning of a new month that brings me a month nearer you.

In one of your letters a short time ago you were afraid I was missing dates with others. It reminded me of a few evenings ago when I was sitting very quietly and thoughtfully in the moonlight. I was thinking of you, but I believe Mama had an idea I was wanting a date because she said “Ina, don’t you wish you had a date?!” I told her that I did want one with you and you only. Although I value the friendship of my other gentlemen friends, I don’t care a thing in the world about having dates with them any more. I want you. Don’t worry. I am not going to change my mind. I love you and am going to love you always and no one else matters. I am going to be true to you.

With all my love forever, I am,

Your loving
Ina.

July 10, 1925 (Ina)

Anniversary Nite
July 10, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

Just two months ago tonight! And I have been so happy ever since. I shall never forget what a queer feeling I had when I said “yes.” I didn’t realize then just why I said it except I just felt like I simply couldn’t help it. I felt like I couldn’t be happy without you, and sure enough I don’t believe I could. Life has been such wonderful happiness since then that I often wonder if I had been truly happy before. I always have enjoyed life but had never before enjoyed such true happiness and contentment. I do hope you feel that way some too. At any rate, the tenth of every month, especially May, is going to be a red letter day in my calendar of life.

July 10, 1925 (Ina)

July 10, 1925 (Ina)

I am sure this has been a busy day for you. I have thought of you so many many times and hoped that you were enjoying your work. I imagine Dr. K.S. has been unloading some of his surplus energy today. You mustn’t work off that flesh you gained while in Uvalde. I don’t want to look like your twin sister by the time you return this fall.

Have you had any refreshing showers since your arrival? Someone said that the thermometer registered 109ยบ yesterday here which sounds a little unreasonable to one who was not present, but if it was 109 yesterday, it must have been at least 112 today. About 6:30 this evening Mama, Papa, Claudelle and Lucile Johnson and I went to the Milow swimming hole about nine miles from town and enjoyed a most delightful swim. The water was deep and as clear as a crystal, so you can imagine how much refreshed we felt after a most melting day at home. To make it even more pleasant, a nice shower came up and cooled everything off so nicely that it seems perfectly reasonable that a blanket should be comfortable before morning. We got out of the river soon after the rain started for fear we would get wet. Lucile J. said to give you her regards.

Walter, I wish you could be here tonight. You have no idea how lonesome that poor porch swing looks out there in the cool breezes all by itself. I haven’t the courage to try entertaining it alone, but if you were here, I am sure you could make the evening much more pleasant for both the porch swing and myself. Or shall I go tell it to wait a few months? Perhaps that is the most reasonable thing to do.

The coyotes must realize the importance of the day because they are competing with the little screech owl in commemorating it. They first have a heated discussion as to what they shall sing, then they peal forth with a song well calculated to raise the dead.

It is getting late now, so I must lay my “weary”? head to rest.

I love you oh so much.

Always
Your devoted
Ina.

Saturday Nite
July 11, 1925

Dearest Walter:

This letter should have been mailed this afternoon but just as we began dressing to go down town it started to raining and it kept it up until dark – not much, but just enough to make us remember that way back in history on two or three occasions cars had been known to stick in the mud on the road between J.N. Lewis’s ranch and town. Perhaps you have a faint recollection of one or two such occasions. I am afraid tho that the romance would be lacking if just Claudelle and I happened to have such a misfortune. I enjoy thinking of yours and my Friday night experience with the rain, wind, hail and wrapping paper.

It gives me a lost feeling when I realize you can’t be with us tomorrow. Mama, Papa, Claudelle and all of us always enjoyed our Sundays with you so much. I am truly sorry you can’t be with us tomorrow and I am sure you will be too when I tell you that you wouldn’t have to eat pineapple cake this time. The truth of the business is that I am through with my pineapple cake stage in cooking and I have launched out on chocolate pie. I made two today and really would be glad if you could be here for the next few Sundays for the course in chocolate pies. However, your days are numbered and I am afraid you are going to have to endure my cakes, pies etc. for many many years to come, and, by the way, I surely do wish you could cultivate a taste for coffee because I really believe I can make a success of making it.

I wish you could be here to-morrow because the Willys-Knight is so nice and clean. I arose early this morning and gave it a bath (’tis Saturday you know) before breakfast. I think it would be nice to slip off after League and drive around during the church service. However, things being as they are, church time will find me piously seated up in the choir with my thoughts, in spite of the fact that I enjoy hearing Bro. Campbell preach, wandering across the country to a certain Bird in Jacksonville, Fla. in which I am especially interested.

I am very sorry that I couldn’t mail this letter today and am especially anxious to take a peep in Box 284 as I think I might have a letter there. It may be that it hasn’t had time to come, but I like to get it at the earliest possible moment after it arrives.

Goodnight and pleasant dreams.

I love you.
Ina.

August 21, 1924

Jacksonville
Thursday Nite

My Dear Ina,

Your letter was a good one even though it was not so long. It had a few cheerful remarks which hit the spot. You don’t know how much better one feels when he is working his head off to find out something, when along comes a letter telling him that it’s a chance for him to “make good.” Best of all is to know that you have confidence in me and that you are “even proud of me.” You couldn’t have said anything to have given me more encouragement and, Dear, I needed it too, for it seems that this thing has been unraveled slowly. It is so different from what anyone would expect and in fact is not a problem of an entomologist, though I have made it one. I have about established evidence that the thing is a spirochaete, which might come under the work of either a bacteriologist or a protozoologist. I hope that I can establish sufficient proof before returning and I will unless some new findings upset everything. This can hardly happen as I worked with a process of eliminating the things it might have been, and then hit upon this. I haven’t heard from Mr. Bishopp since I wired him a few days ago, but I’ll probably hear tomorrow. I shipped some slides for examination in Washington and he is probably waiting until someone identifies them. I would not be surprised to find that this thing is entirely new from a standpoint of description as I cannot find one that describes it. I do know that it fits into that group and I trust that they won’t find two different kinds as this would make it more complicated to work with. By the time Mr. Bishopp gets here I hope to have it all worked out so I can lay my cards on the table.

August 21, 1924

August 21, 1924

Am sorry that you found the mosquitoes so annoying on your camping trip, but it takes something of this kind to make us appreciate the otherwise delightful nights. An automobile trip is more fun, when it is completed, if we had some trouble, but of course we don’t think so at the time the trouble happens. No doubt you enjoy home comforts a great deal more since you returned.

I hope that you have sent the negatives that I asked you for as I really want them and will return them. I keep the small pictures in my desk and find myself admiring them quite frequently. Can’t help it. When I see the pictures I always think that there is bound to be something to a girl who can work in a tax collectors office and at the same time win an automobile in a newspaper contest*. The odds were certainly not in your favor, for I know what it means to meet the public on that basis. You have a personality that does it. Usually, a real pretty girl is aware of the fact, having been reminded of it so many times, and they lose the personal charms which would otherwise develop a lot of personal magnetism. I am telling you what I really think without any reservation, because I know that it doesn’t “go to your head.”

Must get some sleep now for that is one requisite to good work.

Kindest regards to all and pleasant dreams.

Always
Walter

*Ina won a contest by selling more newspaper subscriptions than anyone else, and the prize was a brand-new Willys-Knight roadster Touring car. Because there were so few cars around at the time, licensing was non-existent. When states did finally issue drivers’ licenses, they started by simply giving one to everybody who owned a car, which is how Ina initially got hers. She didn’t take a driving test until she was in her 80s.

July 4, 1924

Friday, July 4th.

My dear Miss Ina,

I was surprised and words can’t tell you how glad I was to get your letter this morning. I was wishing that I could hear from you for it seemed such a long time since I saw you. I am mighty glad that you didn’t wait until you received another letter from me after I had arrived at Dallas.

July 4, 1924

July 4, 1924

When I came by the post office and found your letter, I had just returned from the garage where I carried the Elgin yesterday. It was promised this morning but the mechanics quit work at noon yesterday so as to get a good start on today’s celebration. I had wanted the push rods adjusted and also the carburetor set for this climate as it had not been changed since the cool weather in the Dakotas. Had rather planned that I would look at some property this afternoon with a view of making a deal. It will probably be Sunday afternoon before I can use it now as tomorrow will be a busy day.

Mr. Bishopp is expected home this noon so I understand.

It has been misting rain and has been cloudy all day, which is not very favorable picnic weather. I wonder how you are spending your 4th, then. I wish that I could be with you. You don’t know how very much I enjoyed being with you and I feel that I know you pretty well. Especially since you have some confidence in me. I realize that you confided in me, and “Angel Eyes” I can’t help but love you for it. The frankness with which you told me was something that I’ll always remember, and something that I’ll always admire in you.

Had I stayed over until Monday night some of your friends probably would have remarked about it, but certainly they could not have said anything unfavorable about you. I don’t believe that any of them could say anything except of a complimentary nature. I might have been criticized for not returning with the other folks, as they might have felt that I was not on the job. Your personality and the sweetness of your smile are sufficient evidence of your character, and everybody admires you, they can’t help it. There isn’t another like you, Miss Ina. You have a personal magnetism which accounts for your host of friends.

I could not expect anything else but that you did go pretty regularly with young men and I rather expected that there were about seven, for the simple reason that there are only seven days in a week. I know that each of them would want to see you at least once each week. I would consider myself fortunate if I were one of the seven. At the present I only hope that you will not be disappointed in me and that I may be favored with an occasional letter as nice as the one received today. In the short time we have known one another we have found that we have lots in common, and I trust that in the future we will find that our ideas are even more similar. To be congenial is the basis of all happiness and while it is impossible for two people to always think alike, there should be a tendency to go a little more than half-way. Most people have good intentions if we could always get their viewpoint, but there are some who consider it a weakness of character to agree with anybody.

Yesterday I posted a photo which was selected by some of the office people in Aberdeen as being the best likeness of “yours truly,” but I am of the opinion that they had a mental picture of me when I had to deal with some of the disagreeable customers. I can assure you that I am not so “hard boiled” or “half baked” as the corners of the mouth would indicate. However, this is the only pose that I have a photo of and I am taking a chance by sending it. I also enclosed one of “Johnnie Osh” and myself. I’ll try and find another one of him as he was really a cute little kid. The view from the hotel Consolation gives a fair idea of the scenery near the Swiss border and in the foothills of the Alps. I am told that other sections are more beautiful in the interior of Switzerland, but we were not permitted to cross during the War. From an airplane one can see the snow-capped Alps and get a fairly good idea of the Swiss scenery that so many rave about. It isn’t like what Mark Twain said about Arizona. He said that in Arizona one could see more cows and less milk, more chickens and fewer eggs, and see more country and see less than in any place in the world. However, there isn’t much in the foothills of the Alps except beautiful scenery and timber. We frequently listened for a yodel song but the only time we heard one was when one of our men would sing it. Johnnie’s favorite song was the “Madelon,” though he often sang “One keg of beer for the four of us.” He picked up the Army songs and could sing them before he knew what they meant.

Please remember me when you have a picture of yourself. Haven’t you a Kodak picture that you could give me? The bobbed hair is all right. You did not have yours clipped so close on the back of your head and it will be long again pretty soon, but don’t wait until it grows. I’d like a photo of those eyes and your smile, so please favor me with one. I am enclosing another of Johnnie. Found that I had duplicates in a Kodak album.

Miss Ina I’d like to have you call me Walter if you feel that you know me well enough. The “Mr.” sounds a little distant. May I leave off the “Miss” when writing you? I’ll use it when I am talking in the presence of some one else. Several times in this letter I have almost called you sweetheart but to do so might mean that I won’t get an answer. I don’t want to take that chance now, for I want to hear from you as often as you care to write. I’ll think of you as one and with tender affections but guess I’d better keep this part in reserve. But I told you I’d tell you everything and why should I keep this.

I’ll be mighty glad to get another letter real soon if you care to write, and I won’t think you are a “flapper.” Had I formed that opinion I would hever have asked you for a date. I simply feel that we have so many beliefs in common that it didn’t take us long to get acquainted. I love you, and you might as well know it now as at any other time. I hope you have confidence enough in me to believe it, for I love you far more than you have any idea.

Always,
Walter,

Box 208