Tag Archives: health

July 25, 1939 (Walter)

Tuesday PM.

My dear Ina,

Your two letters came yesterday one enclosing a letter from Mother Dove. Can assure you that they were most welcome.

July 25, 1939 (Walter)

July 25, 1939 (Walter)

Every evening I have taken a walk of about two miles. On Sat. PM about 3 miles & on Sunday PM about the same distance. Gradually I’ve developed a coat of tan and a reduction in the waist line. I haven’t weighed but I’ve lost some weight. Sunday I ate all three meals at home and prepared them myself so you know they were good. Have been eating breakfast at home most every morning lately.

Thurs. & Friday the Ents of the Great Plains meet at St. Paul. We have a survey meeting at the West Hotel on Friday & Sat. Gaddis and Wakeland will be here also about 12 field men. It will be a night mare & especially with Gaddis in a bad mood over anything that is not favorable to plane baiting.

You and I, Shotwell & Mrs. S. & Wakeland & Mrs. W. were invited by Dr. Ruggles to come to their home Friday evening. I explained that you were not here. He said in that case they might invite a young lady in your place.

Dr. & Mrs. Creighton of Gainesville Florida called upon me today & regret that they did not meet you. We are invited to see them at Gainesville.

Am glad you had the car worked on as it needed something. More about your suggestion that I meet you Dallas & drive to Miss. The road between Uvalde & San Antonio is under repair & not so good for the kind of driving you like to do.*

With lots of love


* I have fond childhood memories of Ina’s driving. She had excellent reflexes even into old age, which was good because she liked to cruise at about 85 mph on the highway.

Separate letter on Frisco Lines stationery:

Dear Lewis,

It is hot here too, and there are some mosquitoes but none at our house. Some mice got into your bag of popcorn and I killed both of them with a broom handle. Judy and Mary asked about you. Polly asked about you, Mother and Walter White and sends her “hello,”


November 5, 1931

Wednesday Night.
Nov. 5, 1931*

Dearest Sweetheart:

No letter today, but I’m sure you are busy with your manuscript.

Walter White is sleeping soundly. He has gotten so he takes only one nap a day and that is usually just before noon. He surely leads us a merry chase the rest of the day. Unless we latch the louvers (and the screen latches are useless unless they are too high for him to reach) he will hardly stay in the house. The fresh air and sunshine are fine for him and we are glad he likes the great outdoors. It would be more convenient, however, if he were satisfied with Mama’s & Papa’s yard as a playground. He insists on “goin’ wawkin” at all hours and it is impossible to exhaust him. I am doing more walking now than I have done in many a day. It is good for both of us though. He has to be watched every minute that he is in the yard here because there is no fence and he is so quick that he can be away in a minute. Don’t worry though. One of us is on the job all the time. That nice, high solid board fence and gate at Charleston will be fine. I think he would enjoy a sand pile in a good sunny place there now. The beach would would be lovely. There is some red sand in the yard here and he enjoys throwing handfuls of it above his head. Sometimes you have a red handed son. Before the weather turned cool he had something on one shoulder that we thought was heat. It itched when he was too warm and it gradually spread to the other shoulder, his neck and finally his face. The cool weather did not seem to help it. After he had had it for over two weeks I asked Dr. Knox to look at it. He said it was nettle rash or – how do you spell “Erticaria”? [urticaria, aka hives]. I suggested that we probably had been giving him too much acid food – lots of orange juice and apple sauce. He agreed that it was caused by that and advised us to eliminate the apple sauce. He also prescribed some medicine which we purchased and gave him – a liquid and some powders. It seemed like a joke to give W.W. medicine. He felt good (but he looked terrible), it seemed, except that the itching troubled him. We bathed the places with soda water and that helped greatly. His face was swollen some when Claudelle came but by the time she was ready to leave he looked well enough for her to take some pictures of him. The rash has disappeared now and he is feeling fine. It upsets me for even the least thing to get wrong with Walter White when you are away. He is so sweet and so valuable to us.

November 5, 1931

November 5, 1931

Marguerite is getting on well as could be expected they say. Her trouble was a ruptured ovary. They removed it. They said her abdomen was so full of blood that they dipped it out by the handful. The doctors seemed to know their business and there were two graduate nurses present. They expect to give Marguerite a blood transfusion tonight. If Bob’s blood types I imagine he will be the one to furnish it. He said he had killed lots of deer but he never saw one lose as much blood as Marguerite did.

It is good to think that we are really going to see you soon. You are going to find your son about the most interesting thing you have ever seen. I love to play with him and see how quickly he learns and develops. He is much less babyish and much more boyish than when you saw him. The family can hardly talk of his leaving. They are going to miss him dreadfully. The neighbors will miss him too. Mrs. Cain said she didn’t know what she was going to do after he left. Bertie said she was going to leave home the day he did because she couldn’t stand to tell him goodbye. She told her mother that if she could have a son like Walter White she wouldn’t mind having one before she married. She is to be married in a few months I think. She said she wanted a dozen children. She loves them so. After she has had one she will probably cut the number some as there isn’t a great deal of fun in bringing one into the world. They are more than worth it after they arrive though. I just wonder how we got along without ours as long as we did.

Lots & lots of love from all of us.

Always, your

* November 5 was a Thursday; I’m guessing Ina got the date right and day wrong.

November 4, 1931

Wednesday A.M.
Nov. 1931.

Dearest Sweetheart:

Your letters of Friday and Saturday came yesterday. They were both very interesting.

I agree with Mr. and Mrs. Hall in regard to the amount of work accomplished on the sand fly problem. It seems that you have gone forward with great speed. The fact that it is such a difficult problem and practically no previous work has been done on it makes it all the more remarkable.

November 4, 1931

November 4, 1931

Your interpretation of Walter White’s letter was very good. How did you know? You are an understanding father.

The information about Mr. Abbott is interesting. Poor fellow, I feel sorry for him. I know he isn’t normal. We should not blame him so much. He is probably just naturally that way and can’t help himself.

I’m so glad you purchased the suit. It sounds pretty and serviceable. It will save your expensive gray suit for best wear. You needed one to wear to the lab. That clothing store will be a blessing to the town if the merchandise is as good as it seems. It was mighty sweet of you to think of purchasing one for Papa’s Xmas gift. I told Mama about it and she said they would not let you do such a thing. Papa said the same when she told him. They appreciate it very much, and so do I, but they do not want you to spend that much on his gift. He still has his blue serge suit that he wore in our wedding and it looks like new.

Honey, Papa, Thelma and I together purchased a dress for Mama’s birthday. Her birthday is on the 5th of this month but we have already bought the gift. She appreciates it so much. The dress and hat are sort of a powder blue, and they are very becoming to her. She looks prettier in them than I have seen her in a long time. It was thoughtful of you to mention it. Your name goes in on the dress and hat. Mother Dove has a birthday some day this month but I have forgotten the exact date. Heretofore, we have been celebrating her birthday in October but when she was in Charleston she told me it was November instead. You know better than I what she would prefer as a gift. Will you please send something nice to her?

Wednesday night.

We have had Ina Marie all day so I did not have an opportunity to finish your letter. Bob’s baby sister, Marguerite, suddenly became dangerously ill at their ranch home last night and they rushed her to Uvalde. She is a tiny thing – not much larger than Thelma Lee – and is very young. She has been married about a year or more. A few months ago she had a miscarriage. She seemed to have recovered until terrific pains struck her last night. They carried her to Thelma & Bob’s, and Dr. Merritt, who has a little hospital here, examined her some then and thoroughly at 9:30 this A.M. He said she was pregnant in the tubes, that there was a laceration there and that she was bleeding to death inside. He advised immediate operation and said she would not live to reach San Antonio if they attempted to carry her there for the operation. By the time her family arrived and the family doctor from Sabinal it was late this evening. They carried her to the Merritt hospital here. There were five doctors present, but I don’t know just how good they are. Thelma phoned after the operation was over and said Marguerite had not yet come out from under the ether but the doctors still had hopes for her. It seemed that after they opened her up (that is a poor way of expressing it but you know what I mean) they found she was not pregnant and that one of her ovaries had to come out. I do not know the particulars but perhaps Mama & Papa will know when they return from Thelma’s. They carried Ina Marie home tonight and I am expecting them any time now. I do hope she recovers. It would be terrible if she didn’t.

I love you, Sweetheart, very very much. I’d love so much to be with you this very minute. You don’t know how much I miss you – you really don’t.

Always, your

June 25, 1927

Saturday Night.

My Dear Little Girl,

Yours of Thurs. night was received at noon today. Pretty good service Sam’s postal boys are giving. Also received another Uvalde News today. This makes two since you left.

I am posting the manuscript to Dr. White tonight. He expects to get it into the June issue. Have also made out 5 reports for Dr. Hall telling him where they have some worm problems. Will also post them tonight. Looks as though I’ll have a clean slate for Monday. Will try and get some goat work started Monday.

June 25, 1927

June 25, 1927

Alvis phoned this afternoon. Mrs. Pettit invited me for a noon dinner tomorrow.

Everybody asks about you. I am always telling someone about my wife. Mrs. Brundrett comes to the lab sometimes. Haven’t seen Mrs. Laake. She has so much company now that I’ll go a little later. Mr. Laake is OK now. Mr. Palliet is with them. He is having Dr. Shelmire to treat a skin trouble for him.

The kittens are coming fine. The meat and milk is working wonders. They will soon be cats.

Dr. & Mrs. Roark expect to come down after the first of July. They wanted to rent their apartment to the Bishopps, but the Bishopps don’t know whether they are going to sell their home or not. Bish may go to Wash. by himself.

I love you Sweetheart and you don’t know how often I think of you. I have your photo on my desk.

Time to eat & I will have to take a bath too. This is Sat. nite.

With all my love,

Love to Everybody

On the back of the envelope, in Ina’s handwriting, is “Mr. W.E. Dove, 5113-1/2 Miller’s Court, Dallas, Texas.” Google Street View shows an apartment complex there now.

July 23, 1925 (Ina)

Thursday Nite
July 23, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

Claudelle, Mama and I have just returned from an Epworth League party given on the roof of the Educational Building and I feel like I have been thru a cyclone. The wind was blowing a regular gale, and, for one time, I would almost have been grateful for bobbed tresses. It was mighty nice and cool up there, and you would hardly have recognized the girl who was running around playing games with the sixteen and seventeen year old boys and girls as the same dignified staid old maid you expect to take “for better or for worse” (as the case may be). Evenings spent like this help pass away the time until you return. It is in the evenings that I miss you most since I am always busy at something during the day, and, although I think of you almost constantly, no matter what I am doing, the time passes more quickly when I am busy.

July 23, 1925 (Ina)

July 23, 1925 (Ina)

Your letter of the 20th came today. Your letter seemed to have a tone of relief about it which I am sure you felt after the clinic was over.

I am sorry your finger is giving you trouble. I hope it is well by now. Don’t try to take everything your patients have. You are not going to take creeping eruption, are you? I hope not. I love you so much and hope that you will always be in perfect health and will not have to suffer in any way. I want you to always enjoy health and happiness.

A few days ago I received a long letter from Mr. Owens (the Sabrial [sp?] ranchman). He sent best wishes for happiness but seems to think that, since things have gone as they have, he never expects to marry. However, I am sure he will after awhile because he will get over this and find a girl whom he thinks is the grandest in the world. I sincerely hope so and hope that he will be as happy as I am already. I couldn’t possibly have loved him as he isn’t the kind I could ever love. I value his friendship highly because it is so honest and true, but I told him a long long time before we quit going together that I could never love him. I didn’t suspect then that it would ever be possible for me to care as much for anyone as I do for you.

No, Honey, your bachelor ways, if you have any, will not worry me. I’ll love you just the same.

Your devoted