Friday Night.
Sept. 18, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

We have been having fine showers just about all day today and you know how much like a boat in the middle of a big lake this house looks. However, we were tickled to death with both the boat and the lake except that I couldn’t help but wish and wish hard for either an airplane or a boat to carry me to the post office to get your letter. Mama said she had a mental picture of me if it were to rain for a week so that we couldn’t get in town. I suppose, in a case like that, something would just simply have to be done. However, the stars are shining now, so I think we can make it tomorrow. We really didn’t have a flood, you understand, but you know this road when it does rain.

September 18, 1925 (Ina)

You may have to wait until you have a holiday to read this and the other letter I am mailing at the same time.

Exactly twelve years ago this morning at five o’clock we “set sail” from Bogue Chitto to make our home in the “Wild West.” Worlds of things have happened since that morning, and little did I suspect at that time that in a dozen years I would be engaged to marry a man whose home was not many miles from ours in Mississippi. I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t moved to Texas? I firmly believe I would have met you though, because I believe there is a Higher Power that arranges those things. It is interesting to think of how it all came about though, isn’t it?

I love you, Sweetheart, and that even more than I knew twelve years ago that I could love anyone. I’m so happy, and can hardly wait until tomorrow to get your letter.

Lots and lots of love,
From
Ina.