Tag Archives: friends

December 5, 1925

The Beach, Sat PM.

My Dear Sweetheart,

I haven’t had mail yesterday nor today so there will probably be a letter from you tonight. Some times the mail train leaves Jax without the mail. It is a poor service. As yet I have not seen Dr. & Mrs. Roark as I missed them in town yesterday, but I’ll attempt to see them again Monday. They leave their rooming place early in the morning and cannot be reached during the day unless one knows where they are going.

December 5, 1925

December 5, 1925

I had lunch with Dr KS yesterday noon and in the afternoon he took me out to the new home. It is very beautiful and is arranged conveniently. Can’t say that I like the antique furniture, but lots of people appreciate it. When the house is completed and furnished it will not have the appearance of a new one, but will be home like etc. It is an English style. I have an idea that we can have a home which you and I would like better and which would cost considerably less. His lot was 18,500 and the house is costing about $50,000*.

Dear, I have not yet said anything to Rev. Campbell but will do so a few days before the 23d. The time is getting nearer all the time and before long the long looked for wedding will take place. Should I have anything to do about making arrangements for the church? If so, let me know. I expect to come a couple of days before the wedding. Will let you know when to expect me. I want to do this so that I can help with preparations etc.

With a sweet goodnight, I love you,

Your
Walter.

Sunday AM.

Dear, I did not get this in the mail last night. Dr. & Mrs. Roark drove down. They had purchased a used Willys Knight & came down in it. We drove up the beach & then had supper. I am going to St. Augustine with them today. They will be here soon.

I was called out of bed at 3AM. The lady next door died with a stroke. Could not do anything for her. She was dead when they came over. A physician came about one hour later but I have sent telegrams for the family by that time.

Lots of love,
Walter

* $644,777 in 2011 dollars.

November 14, 1925

Saturday Nite
Nov. 14, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

Of course I may not mail this letter – at least I will not until I hear from you – but I don’t feel right going to sleep without saying a few words to you. That always seems necessary to make it a well rounded day.

November 14, 1925

November 14, 1925

I have been spending the evening by reading in the “National Geographic” of an Arctic expedition while a stiff norther is blowing outside. I imagine it will be really cold by morning. We will feel it too after the fine springlike days we have been enjoying.

This afternoon Thelma Lee called us up to tell us that Mr. and Mrs. Parman had returned. They have had quite a stay.

I am so accustomed to writing you every day that when I wrote Claudelle day before yesterday I addressed it to Box 61 instead of her box number which is 55. Mama called my attention to my error when I started down town, but I forgot to correct it. It seems unnatural not to send the mail to 61 every day.

I love you, Sweetheart, a mighty heap.

Always, your own
Ina.

Now, I think I can go to sleep. Goodnight and sweet dreams.

Sunday Nite
Nov. 15, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

Here goes the second installment. Perhaps I will get a letter tomorrow so that I can mail this one.

This morning Mrs. Bunting, a friend of ours who has several school teachers boarding at her house, ‘phoned and invited me to take dinner with her. She has been insisting for quite a while on my calling on a young lady who boards there but on whom I had not called so I accepted her invitation to dinner. Mr. Priddy, the commercial teacher in high school here, and whom I went with some last session, boards there too. He introduced me to Mr. Butler, a friend and his former Baylor University roommate, who was visiting him, so this afternoon Mr. Priddy, Miss Wilhaus, Mr. Butler and I went to Eagle Pass crossing kodaking. You remember that is the spot on the Nueces river where you and I went that Sunday afternoon when you missed the train. It was beautiful this afternoon. There was more water than usual and the clear sky and warm sunshine made it ideal for an outing. I thought of you and wished for you when those familiar scenes all reminded me of the pleasant afternoon of “getting acquainted” you and I spent there. Then I thought of the Sunday afternoon, almost a year later, after you and I were happily engaged, when we spent several hours at the same place. And, Sweetheart, Mr. Butler, in a number of ways, reminds me of you. He doesn’t dance, and his ideas on things of that kind are very similar to your own. If any of the two dozen pictures we took are good, I will send you some. We returned about six o’clock and I had a date with Mr. Butler to go to church this evening.

When I go down town tomorrow after your letter, I am going to have my fountain pen repaired so that I can write you a neater letter.

I love you, Sweetheart, and think of you often.

Always, your
Ina.

November 13, 1925

Friday the Thirteenth
8:25 P.M.

My dearest Sweetheart:

In spite of the fact that I had resolved to wait about a week to write you in order to see whether you would even miss my letters, here I go, as usual, answering your letter on the same day that I received it.

First of all, I want to tell you that you needn’t be at all surprised at any particular cuts this pen takes as I am unaccustomed to wielding one of its kind, especially when my only source of fuel is a great big ink bottle with a little tiny bit of sediment comfortably settled in one of its corners. My fountain pen is out of commission (overworked, poor thing!) so this letter promises to be a master-piece.

November 13, 1925

November 13, 1925

Yesterday and today have been two of the most beautiful days I have ever experienced I think. The sky has been just as clear as could be, and not a particle of cloud could be seen. It has been so nice and warm, everything is so pretty and green, and it has been just like springtime. I spent the day with Thelma today and we have been spending the afternoon pleasantly in making a few calls.

Mama and I went to a reception last night and enjoyed it so much. I was asked to pour tea for the occasion. My! how I did envy the young lady who had the privilege of pouring coffee. There were about a hundred and twenty five guests present.

No, Sweetheart, I mustn’t tell you how relieved I was to get your letter today nor how long I had been looking for it. Neither would it be very wise to tell you how many times of late that I have had to swallow a big lump in my throat consisting of anxiety, pride, independence, ‘n’everything, when I realized that it would take only about three minutes at the close of even the very busiest

One page missing – I tore it up. I didn’t want you to think I had gone back on my promise to be good, nor did I want you to think I was foolish or sensitive. Anyhow, I love you and love you and love you and don’t expect anything to ever come between us.

Yes, Sweetheart, from the description you have given me of the acreage west of Jacksonville, I think it would be mighty nice to live in a nice little home out there. I have no objections to living in the suburbs because we can drive in any time we get ready. We could enjoy there the advantages of both the city and the country. Yes, the profit on the sale of the Fulford lot would go a long way toward building a home, and, Dear, by the time we are married I will have a thousand dollars left from my savings, made while I was a “business woman” which I had intended for us to use for furnishing our home. It is drawing eight per cent interest at present, but we can get it any time we are ready to buy the furniture.

I am enclosing an account of the marriage of Zelma Barnette and Pat Campbell. As you have met them both I thought you might be interested.

I love you, Sweetheart, and I get so enthusiastic and happy when we are planning our wedding, home etc.

Always, your
Ina.

November 9, 1925

Monday Nite
Nov. 9, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

Yours of Friday night came after a second trip today after it. It didn’t come this morning, so, since I felt like I just had to have a letter today, I went down town again this afternoon. If it hadn’t come I would have – well, waited until tomorrow or the next day or the next to get one. I didn’t write you last night because I didn’t know what to write. You see, I had received only three letters the past week when I had been accustomed to receiving, usually, seven. So I didn’t know what was wrong.

November 9, 1925

November 9, 1925

The real estate letter you enclosed was interesting also. It will be mighty fine to make a nice profit by the time we are ready to have a home of our own. I am glad that Jacksonville is coming to the front of the Fla. boom so that the acreage west will be increasing.

Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Monagin and June Latham (the young school teacher from Mississippi whom you met at the Uvalde Hotel) came out and spent quite a while with us. Mervin is quite a football hero this session. I think he enjoys every minute of it too.

It was announced last night at church that part of our pipe organ had already arrived and the remaining part and a man to install it were expected soon. I don’t know why the shipment has been delayed so long.

Wednesday is Armistice Day. Are you going to take a holiday? I don’t know how we are going to spend the day – as per usual though, I suppose. Yesterday evening we had a debate at League “Resolved, that Christians should not participate in War.” There was lots of room for argument, of course, on this question, and the four debaters did it justice too, I think. I most earnestly hope that some plan can be presented and carried out that will honorably and effectively prevent all wars in the future. It makes me shudder to think of the losses, terrors, ruin and desolation caused by the World War. It seems impossible that the people of the world would bring about another one as horrible. Here’s hoping it’s all over!

I love you, Sweetheart, ever so very very much!

Always, your
Ina.

November 3, 1925

Tuesday Nite.
Nov. 3, 1925.

My dearest Sweetheart:

No letter today, but I can look forward to one tomorrow. When I miss a day, I appreciate it even more than ever when it does come.

November 3, 1925

November 3, 1925

The main excitement in our little town at present is the mysterious disappearance of our young Presbyterian minister. He left here on the train on the morning of Oct. 7 for Brownsville to attend a meeting by the Presbytery there, but he failed to reach his destination nor has he returned to Uvalde. The last time he was seen was by a San Antonio friend at the Union Station in San Antonio on the morning of Oct. 7. Where he is and what has happened, no one knows. He was only twenty-four years old, has been married about a year and a half and this is his first charge (Uvalde I mean). He came straight from school in Virginia and accepted the pastorate here. His wife and baby are here too. I feel so sorry for her. She is an orphan, but her Aunt is with her now. Some people seemed to think he was murdered, but I can’t imagine what in the world would possess anybody to select him to murder. Positively, I can’t think of anyone on earth who looked and seemed more innocent and harmless. The supposition now seems to be that he is suffering from a lapse of memory and has wandered away. Quite a bit of money has been raised by the Uvalde citizens to be used in searching for him. It is being widely advertised, a reward is offered, and all other methods are being used, but so far without success. He is the fourth man who has mysteriously disappeared from this and surrounding communities recently. One from Sabinal was found about a week later, drowned in the Sabinal river. He was rather old and subject to frequent spells of loss of reason, so that accounts for that. But as for the preacher, we know not.

Now! I’ve told your bedtime story, so good night and sweet dreams.

I love you!

Your own
Ina.

October 31, 1925 (Ina)

Saturday Nite
Hallowe’en.

My dearest Sweetheart:

It has just struck twelve and I’m sleepy, but I want to tell you that I love you, love you and love you.

Mama and I have just returned from the League Hallowe’en party, and “Spooks” didn’t get us on our way home either. We rather expected to find a flat tire or something when we started to get in the car, but everything was unmolested. Somehow, the party was not much of a success. You have been to places where everyone just naturally had a good time without half trying, while you have been to other places where everything that was said and done sounded wrong and looked wrong and hit cold. The latter was the case tonight, and for the sole and simple reason that there were two young ladies (about fifteen years old) who wanted to be “different” by throwing cold water on all the entertainment that was attempted. They didn’t want to have a good time, and seemed determined to see that no one else did. You know there is nothing that kills the spirit of fun in a crowd more quickly than that. I felt so sorry for the girl who had charge of the entertainment for the evening. This was only the second time she had served in that capacity, and she feels that she is a miserable failure now, even though she has worked so awfully hard on this party for this evening. I have never seen anyone look more discouraged and disgusted than she did a few minutes ago.

October 31, 1925 (Ina)

October 31, 1925 (Ina)

Excuse this outburst, but I had it in my system, so I feel better now.

Sweetheart I didn’t write you last night because it rained yesterday and I didn’t get the letter of the night before mailed. I thought of you just the same though.

Mama and I didn’t go in town this evening before the post office closed, but I had phoned Bob and asked him to get our mail and carry it to his house so we could get it tonight. He did and we did (get the mail I mean), and that nice long letter of yours was the greatest treat I could have next to being with you in person. Sweetheart, I enjoyed it so much, and I’ll write you more about it tomorrow (I mean today – it is almost 12:30 now).

I love you, Dear, bless your heart! – just more and more and more.

Your sleepy
Ina.

Sunday Afternoon.
Nov. 1, 1925.

Dearest Sweetheart:

Here goes the second installment.

I, too, was surprised to know that Mr. Pettit was married. You can’t “always sometimes” tell, can you, what is going to happen. I am wondering if she happened to be a nurse in the sanitarium in Legion and the romance began there, or she may have been someone he knew before going there. At any rate, I sincerely hope they will be happy.

Sweetheart, I have never had anyone else tell me I was unusually sensitive, but I may be. We’ll take it for granted that I am though, and forget it. I’m awfully sorry I created such a misunderstanding but it’s all over now. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be on “needles and pins” for fear I will take “a fence” about anything, because I’m going to be good from now on. I’ll prove to you that I’m not hard to get along with.

You were writing about someone for Best man in the wedding. I’m sorry Mr. Pettit married so soon because I think it would be fine to have him. It would be fine to have Mr. Parman if he were not married, but, Dear, you see, the Best Man is supposed not to have a wife because the Maid of Honor is unmarried. He will enter the church with you, but, after we meet at the altar and the ceremony is performed, he will march out with the Maid of Honor (who is to be Claudelle) and you and I will go together. You see, if he were married, it wouldn’t be exactly right. Perhaps your brother (if he will be here) or Mr. Poole or someone else would be all right. Of course that is entirely with you, Dear. Anyone you choose will suit me fine. My, I get so enthusiastic when we begin planning about the wedding! Sweetheart, I’m so happy.

I love you worlds and worlds all the time.

Always, your own loving
Ina.

October 29, 1925 (Ina)

Thursday Nite.
Oct. 29, 1925.

My dearest Sweetheart:

Your nice long letter of Sunday A.M. came today and I have read it over and over and then some more. It made me feel awfully good to have you assure me that you do love me as much as ever, and you may rest assured that I enjoyed every minute of the letter. I had already decided, since I wrote you that almost heartbroken letter, that I was really mistaken because yours since then have already contradicted the feeling that kept insisting on taking possession of me. Sweetheart, I don’t believe in nor practice creating a big stir about nothing, but wrote you because I felt that way and wanted to know, and I certainly would want you to do the same way by me if you felt that way. Forgive me for it this time, please, and I’ll promise to try to never do it again any more.

October 29, 1925 (Ina)

October 29, 1925 (Ina)

No, Dear, Miss Hulett did not write a word to me. However had she done it, I would certainly have believed you in preference to her. I will say for her, though, that she is a most perservering young lady. Really, Sweetheart, do you think she loves you as much as she thinks she does? You know, true love is unselfish, and she doesn’t seem to feel that way. Even though I love you better than anyone else on earth, and it would just nearly – Oh, I don’t know what I would do if I should lose you – if I should find that you no longer loved me, I wouldn’t want you to marry me! I would, of course, first find out if it was my fault and if I had done something wrong, I’d do my best to right it, or, if there was a misunderstanding I’d do all in my power to explain it. If, however after all this was done, you still didn’t love me and especially if you loved someone else, I’d pass out of your life so quickly, so thoroughly and so completely that you would never be bothered with me again – nor would my ghost haunt you – no, not even on Hallowe’en! Of course I’m not expecting such an occasion to arise – absolutely no! It hurts to even think of such a thing.

I know, Sweetheart, that some of your letters have been short, but so have mine. I haven’t any room to talk there. I think it was principally because I couldn’t find out anything much about when you were coming or anything, and the indefiniteness of it all made me feel that perhaps you were not as much interested in it as you were at first. We didn’t have any cross words though, and we are not going to, are we?

I had quite a long letter from Mr. McCreless (the young minister) today, and he seems to be very enthusiastic over his work and life in general. He is in Ashbury College at Wilmore, Ky. this session.

I’ve been wondering if you have had to move yet. I hope it will not be necessary since you are so well pleased with your present location. You know, Dear, I really think it is nice that we are not going to move into a home of our own immediately after we are married. Since we are not, we will have a better opportunity to look around and see what we think will be best. Then, after we have decided, I think we will be better satisfied than if we had moved in a permanent home at once. I am not worrying at all about the “running around” that we are expecting to do when we are first married, because I think we will enjoy it (I know I will if you are there), and then we will appreciate a house of our own more when we do get it. No matter where we go, I am sure we are going to be happy.

With a new resolution to avoid all misunderstandings, and with worlds of love, I am,

Always, your
Ina.

October 28, 1925 (Walter)

Oct 28th
Wednesday A.M.

My Dear Sweetheart,

I feel much better since your letter came last night. The day before I did not write for I could not understand, and so I waited. It seems that my short notes made you feel so badly. Last year the same thing happened. I have always had the opinion that a short letter was better than none and when I am rushed I have frequently written short ones. Whenever I have written them to you they have been more harmful to your feelings than no letter at all. I would not hurt your feelings, intentionally, for anything in the world. I love you, Dear, and the short letters were written because I was very busy and because I wanted to write too. I am very sorry that you misunderstood me. Last year when the clinic was under way and when Dr KS kept on the go every minute, one of my letters gave you the wrong impression because it was short. I certainly hope that we will not have such misunderstandings again. When we are together always we will know each other better. I have already learned that your feelings are more sensitive than I had suspected, but back of these you have a big heart, Dear, and there is no doubt in my mind but that you love me. I love you, too, lots and lots, and we are going to get along fine.

October 28, 1925 (Walter)

October 28, 1925 (Walter)

I am enclosing a letter which will interest you, as it concerns Mr. Pettit whom you met at Legion last summer. I had no idea that he was so near the point of getting married. I had thought of asking him to stand with you and I, since he was near and could come more easily than Alvis. Alvis is on the go so much with pipe organ matters that it is difficult to get him. I have not asked him. Perhaps H.J. would be glad to come, since he has no occupation and since he does not get away from Legion very much. What do you think about it? Mr. Parman is a good friend of mine too, and might be glad to stand with us. Let me know what you think.

I’ll make up the list for you real soon, Dear, as it will take a little time to include all that I want on it. It will not be a long one, however, and I would estimate that 50 would be more than I would have. It may be that 25 will be nearer the number. I’ll start the list and keep it a few days, adding names, as I feel that they should be included.

I love you, Dear, with all my heart and I am very sorry that I caused you to feel so blue.

Always your,
Walter.

October 27, 1925

Tuesday Night.
Oct. 27, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

It is now about ten o’clock and Mama and I have just returned from a League business meeting – she went as chaperon. I don’t mind coming home alone in the moonlight, but Mama insists that it is neither proper nor safe. We are planning to have a big Halloween party at the educational building on that night. I think masquerade parties are usually so much fun.

October 27, 1925

October 27, 1925

Your letter of Friday night came this morning and, as usual, I devoured every word of it. I am sure you are glad to get things unpacked, straightened, and ready for business once more. Of course I’m not wishing Mrs. McDonald any hard luck, but I’m hoping she doesn’t sell any time soon since you already have your things there and like it better than any other place on the Beach for your work. I think it would be mighty nice for us to live right there in her cottage while you are working on this problem. I am looking forward with lots of pleasure to going down there.

I spent the day with Thelma again today. We always have such a good time together.

Of course, Sweetheart, since you don’t know how early I have been accustomed to retiring lately, you may not understand just how sleepy I am now. When we don’t go anywhere in the evenings, there isn’t much left to do but get sleepy. Our gasoline lamp refuses to work most of the time, and the kerosene lights are too dim to make reading very pleasant, and, as it gets dark so early, we sit up and watch the clock until the hands point to an hour that is not too unreasonably early for going to sleep.

Sweetheart I love you an awful lot all the time.

Always, your own
Ina.

October 24, 1925

Saturday Nite.
Oct. 24, 1925.

My dearest Sweetheart:

Your letter of Sunday P.M. written at West Palm Beach reached me today, and the irregularity of the mail is shown by the fact that your letter from the Beach written two days later reached me yesterday. Of course the difference in the distance makes some difference, but still you traveled faster than your letter, according to that.

October 24, 1925

October 24, 1925

I am enclosing a little article on the Florida boom that I came across in the Uvalde Leader-News. I hope that the steps that are being taken to stop the rush will not be effective any time soon, don’t you?

This morning I was very much shocked when someone ‘phoned that Mrs. D.H. Crisp, the wife of my former employer for whom I kept books for about six years, had suddenly died last night. It was so sudden that it was a shock to everyone. As soon as we heard it I went to her home for a few minutes. I always have a feeling of utter helplessness and uselessness in a case like this because all I can do is to show respect by going and carrying flowers. They already had enough friends to sit up with the corpse tonight. The funeral is to be tomorrow afternoon. I feel so sorry for Mr. Crisp, and it is especially sad as she left two little girls, one eight and the other four years old. No doubt one of his sisters here will care for them.

Sweetheart, I love you, you don’t know how very very much. I wish I could be with you right now.

Always, your loving,
Ina.

Sunday P.M.
P.S. I rushed off this morning without carrying this letter, so I am enclosing the one for today also.

You can click and zoom into the image of the letter if you want to read the news clipping.