Tag Archives: shrimp

August 5, 1925 (Ina)

Wednesday Night.
Aug. 5, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

Again I say, “don’t you feel funny when you don’t get a letter!” I had that sensation again this afternoon when I opened the box and there was none. I suppose you are too busy to write. I am sure you still love me, but I will be mighty glad to get a letter. The last one I received was written a week ago tomorrow night. I like letters.

August 5, 1925 (Ina)

August 5, 1925 (Ina)

Well, I went to Jewel Tate’s wedding this afternoon at five. It took place at her home and there was quite a crowd there. Yes, the groom was there and I really like his looks. He looks human and hasn’t that hands-clasped-eyes-cast-heavenward look that I was afraid Jewel’s husband would have. It was a very simple wedding – no attendants – and, honestly, it is hard for me to believe that it is legal – the minister omitted so many of the “I do’s” and “I will’s.” Why, they hardly had time to get in the room before he pronounced them man and wife. It surely doesn’t take long to do it up for a life time. However, the brevity of the ceremony suits me. There was a short reception afterwards, and then they left in their car for their home in Plainview, Texas. Sweetheart, all during the ceremony I was thinking of how happy I will be when you and I stand at the altar and take those solemn vows. But there was something about it that I didn’t exactly like, and I don’t know exactly what it was. After the ceremony was over, there was an awkward pause, and throughout the reception that spirit seemed to prevail. The majority of the guests didn’t seem to be enjoying it much and finally I think they all left before the bride and groom did. There were only a few left when it dawned upon me that perhaps I had better leave too. Rice, old shoes etc. were not even hinted by anyone. Of course brides and grooms don’t like to be the victims of too much of this, but I think half the fun is in trying to escape it. It doesn’t seem like a real wedding if there are not some young people around who are trying to plan and carry out some mischief. I didn’t feel like doing it all by myself so I didn’t mention it.

No, I don’t know how to prepare shrimp. I am glad you are taking notes so that you can tell me how. I am sure you all enjoyed the fishing. It was good recreation after a day’s work.

Thursday Afternoon.

Dearest Walter:

Just to tell you that I still love you and I am sending this letter to the post office with the prayer that I may get a letter this afternoon. If I don’t –! I guess I’ll write you again tonight.

Love,
Ina.

July 30, 1925

Thursday Night
11 50 PM
7/30

My Dear Sweetheart,

If this letter smells like shrimp I won’t be surprised.* We went out to Dr. KS home and all of us spent about an hour on the river fishing for shrimp with a net. Then we helped prepare them & fix some shrimp cocktails. Have just returned from there, and thoroughly enjoyed the lunch. To prepare them was a tedious task, but I wanted to know how to do it so I could tell you. May be you already know, but I have an idea that I can tell you all about it provided you don’t know.

July 29, 1925 (Walter)

July 29, 1925 (Walter)

Your letter of this noon gave me a real kick to have you call me Sweetheart. It was the first time I had ever been called that, and Dear I have never called anyone that except yourself. I only wish I knew some name I could call you which would be a little stronger than this. I certainly do love you Sweetheart and I guess I’ll always want to be with you as much as possible.

I note that you address me as Dr sometimes. It is OK to say Mr, as KS understands and my mail at his office usually comes as Mr. I rather feel that I get a title to which I am not entitled, but I am called that most of the time. Even Dr. White gives me the title down here. It doesn’t make any difference, so suit yourself. (Sweetheart sounds nicer).

I am glad that you enjoyed Hondo. Somehow I feel better when I know that you are wearing the ring, as I feel that someone will not be so apt to think that he has a chance for you.

Must go to sleep as I am about that point now. I love you, Dear, with all my heart and I’ll try to always be a sweetheart of yours.

Your,
Walter.

500 Prof. Bldg.

*It does not smell like shrimp. Having been stored with some old “Kodak Safety Film” 16mm movies (now archived at Johns Hopkins University), it and all of the other letters smell like vinegar.