Sunday A.M.
July 30, 1939.
Dear Sweetheart:
I’m wondering how you are feeling this morning after the meetings of Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. I hope Mr. Gaddis has left town. Did you and the young lady have a good time at Mrs. Ruggles’ dinner Friday evening?
July 30, 1939
Last night Walter White asked me when you were going to take your 60 day vacation. I told him that I doubted if you would ever take it all, and explained that you were a very important man. He promptly said that he wished you were not so important so you could be with us more.
The long walks, the reduced weight, the coat of tan, and even the home-made meals sound good. No doubt you feel much better. I wonder if you are eating at home today.
The children and I are eating dinner at Thelma’s and Bob’s today. Reitha has gone horseback riding with one of her male admirers this morning. The joy of being at home has not worn off for her yet. She is so fond of her little baby brother; she bathes and dresses him several times a day, and takes him around to show him to everyone who hasn’t seen him yet; she even takes him along when her boyfriends come by for a ride in the daytime. She was eighteen yesterday. A few afternoons ago she went with us to Shut-in at Con Can for a swim. She was by far the most attractive girl on the beach; she wore the white bathing suit you and I gave her for graduation. Walter White, Ina Marie, and Lewis Dunbar went in too, but Thelma, little Dolph, and I stayed out and watched them. How much would I give if I didn’t go through such agony of fear when our children are in the water! Reitha is a good swimmer, but I doubt if she could rescue big, heavy Walter White if he were to step off in a hole. I realize, though, that he can’t learn to swim on dry land or even in very shallow water. Lewis Dunbar ventures in only far enough to wet his ankles.
The children are so pleased when they receive separate letters from you. Walter White didn’t know I was going to write today, so he has already gone to Ina Marie’s. Lewis Dunbar is here though.
Lots of love, from your
Ina.
Edited 2013.4.4 11:22 to fix spelling of Con Can.
I am enjoying today’s “Walter and Ina” blog entry (from Ina, July 30, 1939). There’s one small correction: the place she mentions that they went swimming is not Can Can, but Con Can. It’s a public park along a river in the hills north of Uvalde where people have gone for swimming, picnics and dancing for years.
I went there between my junior and senior years in college on a trip with my mother (Ina) to visit the Texas relatives. I spent a fun afternoon of swimming and evening of dancing with a lovely girl my age from Houston.
I stayed there overnight on a trip to the southwest in the van a few years ago and it seemed unchanged.
Thanks, I just fixed it. Walter and Ina both have reasonably good handwriting, but it can still be hard to decipher an unfamiliar name.