Tag Archives: love

September 10, 1924

Wednesday A.M.
Before Breakfast

Dear Walter:

How are you feeling this lovely autumn morning? It is just the kind of morning that makes a person feel like getting up and going somewhere. I think I would like to hike out to the river.

Your letter and the frame came, and I appreciated them both lots and lots. The frame is just as pretty as can be, and you don’t know how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness in sending it. Thank you.

September 10, 1924

September 10, 1924

We went on a swimming party yesterday evening, and had a good time. I suppose we can’t have many more before the weather gets too cool.

I know you appreciate Dr. Kirby-Smith’s hospitality as well as his deep interest in your success in your work. His influence will be a great help I am sure, and it is awfully nice of him to do it. However, you deserve every bit of it I know. Guess you don’t find any trouble in agreeing with him that your salary should be raised several times, do you? It is too bad about his drinking. I suppose his wife thinks that if the officers don’t enforce the prohibition laws, she will do her part.

No, I suppose you were not too hasty about asking me what you did if you are perfectly sure about your own feelings, but you don’t want to make the mistake I made one time of saying something you may want to take back later. I appreciate everything you said more than I can tell you, and you may rest assured I will think about it lots. Then, after I am with you more I can tell you how I feel. All I can say for sure right now is that I like and admire you very much, and am nearer loving you than anyone else.

This is a short letter, but I can’t write anymore right now. Will write a longer one later.

Sincerely
Ina

September 8, 1924

Monday Night
Sept 8, 1924.

Dearest Ina,

It was a blue Monday when I came down town this morning, but your letter and the fact that you have confidence in me, set everything all right. I think I have read it at least ten times and have looked at your pictures about the same number of times. You don’t know how encouraging you were in simply letting me know that you believed in me. You would have to know that I really care for you to appreciate just what it meant.

September 8, 1924

September 8, 1924

It is true, Dear, that we haven’t been together very much but that is no fault of our own, and I am thankful that I was with you even for the short while. I really mean it from the bottom of my heart, I have had just such a girl as yourself in a mental picture for a long time, though I didn’t think she could have those qualities and be so beautiful as yourself. As a rule I am shy of the girls for I usually find that they dance, that they are Catholics, or that they have some quality that I could never like. With yourself it seemed that we agreed on everything, and best of all you were not wearing a solitaire. Who wouldn’t miss a train?

I consder that the most pleasant time I’ve ever spent and I’ll always remember it, even if you should decide that you don’t care for me. I only wish that I could offer you more in a material way, but I doubt if that would mean real happiness to you. To my mind the happiest people are not the ones who have the most money or live in the greatest amount of style, but the ones who really enjoy the pleasures of one another.

I am really pleased to have you tell me that you don’t know whether or not that you love me, for with yourself it is different. I would want you to be sure of yourself and I realize that you haven’t been with me enough to know. I hadn’t heard of Mr. Parmans request but nothing in the world would please me more than to come to Uvalde and relieve him for a while. If I could be down there for a month and see you often, I am sure that we would know one another pretty well and it would be doing the fair thing by you. You might not like me near so well, but it would be better to find it out early in the game. I don’t know what Mr. Bishopp will do, for my stay is uncertain here, depending upon cases. He planned that I should make a survey in the state after Oct 1st and this would probably take about 10 days. No doubt he would want me to come to Dallas when I have finished the year’s work here.

He is inclined to favor me and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he would ask me to come down there before reporting to Dallas. He saw your pictures when he was here and is aware of my personal interest at Uvalde. He knows that a trip down there would be welcomed by myself. I was so proud of your pictures that I had to show them and it only took a glance for him to recognize them. He thinks you are mighty fine, and I know you are wonderful.

When there is anything that you would like to have me tell you, please ask me. I want you to know everything and I’ll tell you anything even if it hurts. But I don’t believe it would hurt to tell you.

You mean everything to me and I love you dearly. Here’s hoping I can see you next month.

Always,
Walter.

September 4, 1924

Thursday Eve.
Sept. 4, 1924

Dear Walter:

Your letter came this afternoon and – well, I can’t tell you how much I appreciated those things you said. When I wrote you about the prospects of losing my position, I didn’t know it was going to bring such a reply. I certainly didn’t do it with that purpose in mind, and I sincerely hope you will know that I didn’t. I believe you know me better than to think I would do anything like that, don’t you? I hope so. In fact if you thought I was that kind of a girl, I don’t believe you would have said what you did.

September 4, 1924

September 4, 1924

Walter, I don’t know what to say. I wish you were here right now so I could tell you just how I feel, and really, so I could know just how I feel. I would give most anything to get to talk with you tonight. So many, many times I think of lots of things I would like to say to you, but if you were to appear suddenly, I might not be able to say a word of it.

I will say, though, that I have admired you from the very moment I met you at the breakfast table at Reagan Wells, and have been admiring you more ever since. Not one time have you lowered yourself in my estimation, but instead you have gone higher. I have had confidence in you from the very start and now I have confidence enough to feel I shall never have reason to lose confidence in you. Guess I’ll have to confess that I like you mighty well. I like you better and admire you more than any other young man with whom I have ever gone. I know that seems to be saying a great deal, but it is true. Furthermore, I have given you more encouragement than I ever have anyone else (with the one exception that you know). Several times, after writing you a letter in which I revealed my feelings more than I thought I should, I have come very near tearing the letter to pieces – in fact, I did do it one time. I have been afraid so many, many times that you would think I was too easy to get acquainted with and that I gave everyone the encouragement that I gave you, but it isn’t true. It’s just because I admired you, liked you, enjoyed your letters so much, and felt like, as you said, we had so many things in common.

When I get to thinking of the short time that we were together and our brief acquaintance, I feel foolish, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world for us to understand each other so well. Are you sure you care for me so much? You see you haven’t really been with me much, and do you suppose you would change your mind if you were with me again?

I can’t say that I love you, because I don’t know, but I do know that I am nearer loving you than I am anyone else. I wish you could be here so we could be together a great deal, and then we could know how we felt. Yes, I realize the sacredness of love, and am so glad you regard it the same way. It is a wonderful thing, and you may rest assured that I am not going to treat it lightly. I have thought about it very, very seriously, and I am going to continue to do so. The things you said in your letter are sacred to me, and you don’t know how deeply I appreciate them. Yes indeed, I will “keep them in mind.” I can’t help it. Maybe when I am with you more I will know whether or not I love you.

I had the most pleasant surprise a few evenings ago. Claudelle and I went up to Mr. and Mrs. Parman’s, and, while they were talking of the visit they expect to make to Tenn. in October, Mr. Parman stated that he had written Mr. Bishopp, asking him if you could come to Uvalde to take up his work during his absence. I am afraid I didn’t succeed very well in hiding my joy over the possibility of your being here during that time. I didn’t intend writing you anything about it, because I thought I would let you mention it to me first, but you didn’t say a word about it in your letter today. Are you going to accept? I would be so glad if you would – that is, of course, if you thought it best. We would have a good chance to know each other then. I am so anxious to know whether or not you are coming.

I haven’t found out yet whether I am going to be re-appointed next year or not. I fully expected to talk to Mr. Shirley last Saturday, but he was not in town. However, I think I will know soon. I may have to call on you for that recommendation after all – you have seen me work so many times, I suppose you are in a position to sing my praises as Deputy Tax Collector, aren’t you?

It is mighty nice of you to go to so much trouble to get that picture framed, and I surely do appreciate it.

It is after eleven o’clock, so I must get my “beauty sleep.”

Sincerely,
Ina

September 1, 1924

Jacksonville, Fla.
Labor Day – Nite

Dear Ina,

Just received your letter and it was a good one. Sorry that I haven’t been able to get the frame, as the man is sick and had not returned today. I rather liked the one I selected and for that reason have been waiting until he returned.

September 1, 1924

September 1, 1924

I note with interest what you said about the election and how it may affect you. I don’t see how anyone could get some one else when there is a chance of getting you. Tell him that I said there wasn’t a nicer or sweeter one anywhere in the world and that he needn’t look any further than his office for the best Deputy.

I wouldn’t like to see you go to San Antonio when Dallas is so much more desirable. If you let me, I’ll see that you get a place in Dallas. Nothing would please me more than to be where I could see you real often. I’ll get you a place that won’t change with political changes and one that you can always have if you want it. I wouldn’t make the same offer to anyone else. You could be your own boss and get up when you pleased. It might be necessary for you to come to Florida next summer and live where you can go in the surf everyday, and at times I’d expect that you would accompany me. In fact I would want you with me just as much as you cared to go.

This may seem a crude way to put it but no kidding, Ina, I mean it. I wouldn’t ask you to decide soon, but I would like to have you keep it in mind and think about it. I intended to ask you in the right way but I couldn’t resist the temptation to “spring it” at this opportunity. I’d much rather tell you than write it, but it seems that I can’t see you very often now.

Please don’t think that I treat such things lightly by my crude way of writing it, for really that is a most sacred thing and one that should be considered well before attempting it. I know that you realize it, from what you have told me. It is true that we have not known each other very long but we are well enough acquainted to know that we have much in common and so far as I know, there is nothing to keep us from being congenial. We seem to agree on everything of importance.

I have always had an ideal girl pictured in my mind, but have never met her until I knew you. I have never before met one whom I could love, make happy and be congenial with. I would try to always be considerate and kind to you, Ina, and if within my power I’ll make you happy. I know that I would always be proud of you and that I would love you with the most tender affections.

I would not ask you to decide now for I am not sure that you could love me. I only hope that you can and that you will believe in me. You need not give me an answer until you have had time to decide, but I hope that I can call you “sweetheart” in my next letter. May I?

With a sweet good night, I am

Always,
Walter.

July 4, 1924

Friday, July 4th.

My dear Miss Ina,

I was surprised and words can’t tell you how glad I was to get your letter this morning. I was wishing that I could hear from you for it seemed such a long time since I saw you. I am mighty glad that you didn’t wait until you received another letter from me after I had arrived at Dallas.

July 4, 1924

July 4, 1924

When I came by the post office and found your letter, I had just returned from the garage where I carried the Elgin yesterday. It was promised this morning but the mechanics quit work at noon yesterday so as to get a good start on today’s celebration. I had wanted the push rods adjusted and also the carburetor set for this climate as it had not been changed since the cool weather in the Dakotas. Had rather planned that I would look at some property this afternoon with a view of making a deal. It will probably be Sunday afternoon before I can use it now as tomorrow will be a busy day.

Mr. Bishopp is expected home this noon so I understand.

It has been misting rain and has been cloudy all day, which is not very favorable picnic weather. I wonder how you are spending your 4th, then. I wish that I could be with you. You don’t know how very much I enjoyed being with you and I feel that I know you pretty well. Especially since you have some confidence in me. I realize that you confided in me, and “Angel Eyes” I can’t help but love you for it. The frankness with which you told me was something that I’ll always remember, and something that I’ll always admire in you.

Had I stayed over until Monday night some of your friends probably would have remarked about it, but certainly they could not have said anything unfavorable about you. I don’t believe that any of them could say anything except of a complimentary nature. I might have been criticized for not returning with the other folks, as they might have felt that I was not on the job. Your personality and the sweetness of your smile are sufficient evidence of your character, and everybody admires you, they can’t help it. There isn’t another like you, Miss Ina. You have a personal magnetism which accounts for your host of friends.

I could not expect anything else but that you did go pretty regularly with young men and I rather expected that there were about seven, for the simple reason that there are only seven days in a week. I know that each of them would want to see you at least once each week. I would consider myself fortunate if I were one of the seven. At the present I only hope that you will not be disappointed in me and that I may be favored with an occasional letter as nice as the one received today. In the short time we have known one another we have found that we have lots in common, and I trust that in the future we will find that our ideas are even more similar. To be congenial is the basis of all happiness and while it is impossible for two people to always think alike, there should be a tendency to go a little more than half-way. Most people have good intentions if we could always get their viewpoint, but there are some who consider it a weakness of character to agree with anybody.

Yesterday I posted a photo which was selected by some of the office people in Aberdeen as being the best likeness of “yours truly,” but I am of the opinion that they had a mental picture of me when I had to deal with some of the disagreeable customers. I can assure you that I am not so “hard boiled” or “half baked” as the corners of the mouth would indicate. However, this is the only pose that I have a photo of and I am taking a chance by sending it. I also enclosed one of “Johnnie Osh” and myself. I’ll try and find another one of him as he was really a cute little kid. The view from the hotel Consolation gives a fair idea of the scenery near the Swiss border and in the foothills of the Alps. I am told that other sections are more beautiful in the interior of Switzerland, but we were not permitted to cross during the War. From an airplane one can see the snow-capped Alps and get a fairly good idea of the Swiss scenery that so many rave about. It isn’t like what Mark Twain said about Arizona. He said that in Arizona one could see more cows and less milk, more chickens and fewer eggs, and see more country and see less than in any place in the world. However, there isn’t much in the foothills of the Alps except beautiful scenery and timber. We frequently listened for a yodel song but the only time we heard one was when one of our men would sing it. Johnnie’s favorite song was the “Madelon,” though he often sang “One keg of beer for the four of us.” He picked up the Army songs and could sing them before he knew what they meant.

Please remember me when you have a picture of yourself. Haven’t you a Kodak picture that you could give me? The bobbed hair is all right. You did not have yours clipped so close on the back of your head and it will be long again pretty soon, but don’t wait until it grows. I’d like a photo of those eyes and your smile, so please favor me with one. I am enclosing another of Johnnie. Found that I had duplicates in a Kodak album.

Miss Ina I’d like to have you call me Walter if you feel that you know me well enough. The “Mr.” sounds a little distant. May I leave off the “Miss” when writing you? I’ll use it when I am talking in the presence of some one else. Several times in this letter I have almost called you sweetheart but to do so might mean that I won’t get an answer. I don’t want to take that chance now, for I want to hear from you as often as you care to write. I’ll think of you as one and with tender affections but guess I’d better keep this part in reserve. But I told you I’d tell you everything and why should I keep this.

I’ll be mighty glad to get another letter real soon if you care to write, and I won’t think you are a “flapper.” Had I formed that opinion I would hever have asked you for a date. I simply feel that we have so many beliefs in common that it didn’t take us long to get acquainted. I love you, and you might as well know it now as at any other time. I hope you have confidence enough in me to believe it, for I love you far more than you have any idea.

Always,
Walter,

Box 208

June 30, 1924

“Written from The Menger, San Antonio”

Dear Miss Ina,

Had I taken Mr. Parman’s advice last evening I would not have left Uvalde until 5PM today. This would have made it possible for me to reach Dallas just as soon, and I probably could have seen you again this noon. I had a “hunch” that I was leaving too soon, but remembered that during the Army days in 1917 I went from here to Dallas in the afternoon. It gave me quite a while to spend here and I rather enjoyed it, but I would much rather have seen you again. But maybe it is best as it happened, for some of your friends might have had an occasion to talk about it. Not that they are different from other people, but in a town of less than 15000 population, everyone knows the affairs of everybody else.

June 30, 1924

June 30, 1924

I realize that we got pretty well acquainted in a short time, but I want you to know that I realized that the time would be short. There was no intention on my part to force myself upon you and monopolize so much of your time, but if we hadn’t gotten acquainted then it would have taken a very long time in letters, and in writing there is always a chance of being misunderstood.

I believe we understand one another pretty good, and you don’t know how glad I am. Ever since you were at Regan Wells, your smile and your eyes have “haunted” me and I had to know you better. I’d like to call you “Angel Eyes” but had better wait to see if I may. Your frankness in telling me about the ring is something that I admire, and I can assure you that I think even more of you. I know that you are not fickle minded, and that you want to be sure of yourself.

As a rule I am quite shy of the girls, and with the exception of the case I told you about, I don’t believe there is anything to tell. Certainly I would tell you if there was more to tell. In the eyes of the public there is a double standard for men and women. So many expect the girl to be as pure as a lily and at the same time know that the men sow their wild oats. I have always entertained the idea of an equal standard and have tried to live as clean a life as I would expect of a girl. You won’t know whether to believe this or not, but nevertheless it is true. I hope that you will have confidence enough to believe me, but can hardly expect you to on such a short acquaintance. The most trying place was in France, and I hope you will believe me when I tell you that I did not have a single date with a girl over there.

I have no girl friends in Dallas and it is seldom that I go any place with one. The girls I knew years ago have all been married for a long time and I haven’t met any new ones, except yourself. As long as you will write and don’t give me a “cold shoulder” I don’t care to go with anyone else. I don’t expect to find anyone with whom I have as much in common, and with whom I could be as congenial. Pardon me for writing it so soon but I want you to know.

I’ll write you from Dallas tomorrow night and I’ll be glad to hear from you anytime you care to write.

Kindest regards to your Mother, Sis and everybody and very best to yourself,

I am,
Sincerely
Walter

Box 208 – Dallas.