Comments
I thought I had posted Roma and Fred #12 earlier, but now it’s not there, so I submit it again. It will probably be out of order as the postings are by the date they are posted; if I learn how to change the order, I will.
The start of the first letter from Roma suggests she’s a true free spirit, but I suspect she is quite calculating and knows how this suggestion of mystery gives her a special allure: “It is now about eight o’clock. I am just about packed, but do not know exactly where I am going. Maybe I will get some mail that will help me decide. Whichever way I go, I will leave about ten o’clock.”
In the next letter, she is very clear about her ambitions and takes pride in having worked so hard to make her life as it is. She talks about her need for money after having gone into debt to pay for her college education and money is still an issue for her. Her training is to be a music teacher but she would need supplemental income to cover costs of a nice wardrobe that being a music teacher entails, with the public concerts, etc. She talks about getting a teaching job in Columbus as the department head for the Portsmouth schools is someone she does not care for. She has an interview for a sales job at Lazarus, Columbus’ highly regarded department store, but they worry that she will just get married and leave. Either teaching or a sales job, or marriage if Fred would propose. She thinks they could live inexpensively, initially with his aunt and sister, but she still has debts she needs to take care of. She appears to have been engaged to a man who would have provided well for her, and money seems to have been her primary motivation for marriage to him. The engagement did not last, although she does not give the reason here. Money continues to be a concern, and she wonders if they might go into farming, possibly poultry farming or apple orchard.
[Bucyrus, Ohio, 9:30 AM, August 3, 1915.]
Dearest sweet love:
Your letter written Sunday was truly a beautiful benediction. Darling that was indeed a real love letter, and more than appreciated.
It is now about eight o’clock. I am just about packed, but do not know exactly where I am going. Maybe I will get some mail that will help me decide. Whichever way I go, I will leave about ten o’clock.
Now dear kind Fred, you will hear from me sometime, somewhere, I don’t know where, nor how soon, but remember that I love you and need your love.
Most lovingly yours, Roma.
Bucyrus, Ohio, August third, Nineteen-fifteen.
[Columbus, Ohio, 4 PM, August 4, 1915.]
I can’t make this fit in any envelope so will have to dissect it.
I
My own dear sweet “Daddy”:
How does that sound? I have been saving that dear sweet salutation for some time, and this morning as I feel so “effervescing” with love, I will bubble over. How do you like my bubbles?
Sweetheart, you used an awful word in your letter. “Damn.” When I said it I meant the “dam” that holds water back. You look and see if I didn’t.
Now I suppose you want an explanation for that good naughty letter I wrote yesterday? Well, dear heart, you can’t know the predicament I have felt myself get into, yet with it all, I have something big to be thankful for, if I hadn’t taken up this “agency work” (I hate that word) I never could have known you, and not knowing you, I might never have known what it was to love, and I can’t say for sure, or to be loved.
I have always had cares, responsibility, pride and ambition. Everything I am, and what I’ve done, I have gotten myself. It has all meant good hard work and sacrifice, but I have nothing to regret or be sorry for. It has made me strong and broad in a great many ways, and darling one, I find in going thru this world, that nearly everyone has burdens and sorrows to bear, and some are so much heavier and harder than mine, that I am happy and thankful, if I am living off from F.B. Winter now.
There really is not much in teaching unless you stay at it indefinitely. So many, many girls I know, get money from home, or else “dad” buys the clothes, which of course helps some. When I was teaching I got a larger salary than most girls starting out, and at that I had to pinch and save. I had my college debts about $500, and then my work was so public it was absolutely necessary for me to have a larger wardrobe than an ordinary teacher, but I h-a-v-e am here to say I have never had anything extravagant.
Well, my point is, I was just about straight with the world, and had gotten many of those little things a girl likes to have before getting married, and as a result of course had no money saved, as there was no question about my not being married, and as my fiancé had more than one in ordinary circumstances, and dear, I might say that that is the nearest I have ever come to marrying for money. I truly never thot of it that way, but he was so grand to me, so devoted, and seemed to love me so much, that I guess it influenced me, anyway I know now I never loved him, and thank heaven I am not married. Anyway you see the position it left me in. I don’t feel that there is any reflection on me for I have done the best I know how. But to go back, to why I did not want to let you know where I was. I had but one desire and that was to go some place where I could get a stipulated salary. I did not know where to go, nor what I could do. I thot I would go to Cleveland. That would be so far away you could not see me, or know what I was doing. But some compelling force made me come to Columbus. The thots, coming on the train, that the miles were fewer to Portsmouth, made me happy, and I thot that twice you had traversed that distance just to see me. Oh you old darling, when I think of how grand, kind, and good you have been to me, I am silly to let pride enter in, but dear, it is not so much my pride as yours. I would not for the world do anything to humiliate or embarrass you, not if it cost me my life’s happiness. So here am I, in the Y.W.C.A. writing to the sweetest man I know.
I called on some of the stores this morning to see what was “doing.” In the ready to wear department of Lazarus store they think they will need one or two to take the place of some girls who are ill. If I clerked there is no department I would rather be in. Now dear, as to my teaching, but first let me say I will know about this place Friday morning.
I really smiled when I read your suggestion, “teaching with Miss Hopper.” We can all plan the ideal, but to make it work out. What I should like to do is, be assistant supervisor in some city school. Then the responsibility is on someone else. Supt. Shawan is out of town at present, and Supervisor Roberts is in Chicago, but as soon as they return I am going to see them. Dear, I made no mistake in specializing in public school music, because they pay so much larger salary than any other line, unless it be drawing. They pay about the same, but the positions are hard to get. I have been in no position to get a line up on anything, and then I have no desire to go back in the school room. If I do, it will be for a career, and it doesn’t seem as tho that is what I am cut out for. If I would go into my profession with my soul, and take a little post graduate work, I could be a howling success as a director. I don’t say this for conceit, I say it because I have been tried, and know what marked success I have had. Also have been told by people who are capable of judging those things. But dear, a success like that comes high, you pay for it with your life, especially a nervous high strung temperament like mine. I never do anything by halves. (except sell books) Of all places to teach, I should rather go anyplace than Portsmouth. That would be a very difficult position to fill, to being with, the students would not be given credit for the work, and you know about nine out of ten are working for credit. That would be the greatest difficulty, and if you have not got the support of the school you cannot get results. Supt. Appel is a hard man to get along with. His sense of appreciation is peculiar. He thinks you should be able to rule by personality alone, and that must be stoical. Can you see me stoical? Then too, I think the people of Portsmouth very critical. They would be especially so because of you and Mr. B.
Now dear, if I seem to have repeated what I have said in former letters, please forgive me. I just want you to know the whole truth, and understand. Now will you love a little store clerk, as much as the book agent or school teacher? Lover, if I clerk I can quit at Xmas time, and if I teach I can’t. Now sweetheart, am I to put in my best licks for a career, or do you want me? I don’t want anyone to feel that I am forced upon them, but sweet love, I don’t think it is lack of desire on your part, else, I could not write this way, but I do think you are putting too great a commercial value on the whole affair. I should want you to have more than “fifteen cents” in your pocket, for I’m afraid someone would get ten, the other five, and your dignity of being the older and bigger, might give it to you, while if it were left to your generosity it might all be mine. But dear, aren’t you looking too much for the luxuries, instead of the necessities of life? You said I had tasted them. Yes, at somebody else’s expense, but dear heart, I could not be one tenth as happy with the richest man on earth, as I could with the man I love in real moderate circumstances. I don’t believe in marrying in real extreme poverty, but I don’t think that spells you. I’m whispering to you now. I want you to come and get me at Xmas time, and live with you, mother and Aunt Mary, then by summer or spring you will have a line on something. Why dear, you can’t keep a good man like you down? Think of the excellent chances you have had? Why should they all cease just you have a wife and are in the prime of life? If I did not have some debts I wanted to pay, I would try and have you marry me now. I don’t want to use my best strength and days teaching school, I want to give them to you. Dear, you asked me how long I would wait for you? How long would you want me to wait? You have been most generous dear, and unselfish, and offered to “give me” to someone who you thot could do more for me but I guess you didn’t know how much I loved you, did you? d-i-d-? Every night I want to cuddle up so close to you, all alone, and have you kiss me, and love me, and then how we could plan and visit. And dear, the long winter evenings, how happy we would be.
Lover, you spoke of the farm. I don’t know whether that was serious or sarcasm, but let me tell you, the farm looks awfully good to me. I don’t think the isolation would mean so much to me as to you. Then there are few farmers that would be in our class, altho Mr. Holt the editor, my brother-in-law’s partner, has gone on a farm in New Mexico, and he is the kind of man that has been entertained at the White House by President Roosevelt. Then in North Dakota the greater part of the farmers are U. graduates. Dear, have you ever thot of the poultry business? My S.L. friend treasures of the Baker Lumber Co. (fourteen retailing yards) wants to quit the office and raise poultry. He thinks there’s scads of money in it when run properly. There should be the price eggs are in winter. That would not take so much capital, and the returns would be sooner coming in. The fortune teller told me I was going to marry a man in the lumber and oil business. Maybe eventually you will be mixed up in that.
Darling do you remember telling me once you could not be angry with me no matter what I did? Well, we’ll see. Those beautiful clippings you sent me, which I more than appreciated, and which you asked me to return, I can’t find. I have put them somewhere for safe keeping in packing and can’t find them. When you were good enough to send them, I should like to return them if you wish them. Maybe they are in the trunk.
I went to the hotel just before I left to see about the comb, but they hadn’t found it at all. I am indeed sorry.
I suppose your mother is home now. I hope she is not too fatigued and tired out and had a pleasant time.
[New page—“VI”.] Do you want a short one next time?
(This tablet was a bargain??? They told me it was a twenty-five cent one, and they were selling them for fifteen. I think more than a nickel is robbery. The “bargain” was what struck me, and it was night, and I did not examine carefully. Please excuse the yellow pages, caused from old age. I am saving my money.)
Dearest love, that which I do not like on your letters is nothing to worry about. Just think, what one or three things have you put on every letter you have ever written. By the way, let me assure you have no trouble in deciphering your letters. I do have to look up a big word once in a while, and I want to say that your two last letters have made me so happy. They are the essence of love, pure and holy.
What was the legacy I spoke of? I have forgotten.
I am reading a small book called, “Love for an Hour is Love Forever”—when it is true love—(is given on the inside) by Amelia E. Barr.
I heard an old man lecture down town this morning, saying he had been telling the people for thirty-five years that this is the end of the earth, that these wars, earthquakes, cloudbursts et cetera would be the forerunners. He said just as surely as there was a God, Chicago was going to be destroyed I think by earthquake.
If Mr. B. says anything to me about love, or getting married (which is improbable) I am going to tease him, and tell him he told Mr. W. to go to it.
This is a grand cool day for loving. Dear love, you don’t know how helpful and comforting it is to know you have someone to love you “when he knows all about you.”
This writing may look like nervousness, but believe me it is cramped fingers.
I hope you have to pay two cents extra, then you will, I was going to say appreciate it, but precious love, you do appreciate me and my love and I do love you with all the love I have.
Yours without a struggle (that is not original) Roma
Columbus, Ohio, August fourth, Nineteen fifteen, General delivery.
[Columbus, Ohio, 6 PM, August 6, 1915. On Lazarus stationary.]
Waiting Room The F. & R. Lazarus & Company Columbus, Ohio
My dearest sweetheart:
Did you say some wise person who acted on the “Great Stage” said “love was blind”? Well, dear, I am sure it is true, for if it were not, you would know I did not know how to spell “Damn” and was trying to evade the issue. Mr. B. said I was the best evader he knew, I don’t think you think so.
I am in writing room waiting to see Mr. Fred Lazarus, Jr. I should like very much to get in here, then I can on the side, look for a school position, but dearest sweetheart, I don’t want to. It isn’t the work I want to shirk, indeed I will welcome it, as I have said my positions are hard to get, and if I were fortunate enough to secure a position this late in the year, it might take me so far away I might never see you again.
Dear do you notice any difference in my letters since your visit to Bucyrus? I feel such a difference I never believed you truly loved me until then, I thot I just amused you. I found it hard to write. Things I wanted to say I felt restrained, and I feel the freedom of tongue and pen, and how sweet it is.
The book dear I referred to, I am going to send to you. I don’t suppose it is quite right, yet I am sure it is not a popular book and will not be missed. You can send it back and I’ll return it. There are so many good passages, both unique and helpful. I have penned a number of the passages I thot good and in some instances applicable. I am sure I missed a great number of choice passages due to the fact I was forced to read it hurriedly. The one where it says, “If you can’t support a wife, better not take one” or words to that effect, almost keeps me from sending the book, but sweetheart, take that real literal not figurative. When I say real literal, I mean that it does not mean you have to have the luxuries of life to be happy. Dear which means more to you, to now you have “silks” or to have your “hearts desires” satisfied? When reading that beautiful love story yesterday, I realized how fully and wholly I loved you, and dear no one now can ever make me happy but just you. I can enjoy other gentlemen’s company, but I want you.
Mr. B. wired me yesterday, but I did not get the message, so consequently did not meet him. He phoned me as soon as he got in, and I met him at the “Busy Bee” and we lunched together. Dear, to see him, and feel him (I mean his hand) did not make my heart beat one bit faster. It must have been seven thirty before I saw him, then we ate, went to the “Eternal City,” and by the way, the picture you cut out of a paper and sent me was taken from it. I was in by ten o’clock. He asked me about the “Old Rose” and said he was going to put them on. I said no, they were old now, it was only new ones that carried that privilege. He said we would get some new ones tomorrow. Dear heart, I do not know what you mean by saying, “Be careful what you say to Mr. B. on those two subjects.” However, I want you to know that you are my lover, Mr. B. my dear friend, and things between you and me are sacred and holy and I shall guard with my life any confidence or secret given. Are you satisfied? Do you trust me? I have told you things about Mr. B., because I knew you would keep them, and I want to be his friend and want him to like me, but dear, I don’t want to wound him. Elucidate: “Dear heart, I have (reluctantly) mentioned some of these things, because you have given them prominence in your letters, however, it was a very proper thing for you to do.” Are my letters read by anyone but you? Dear, you will have to explain that at length.
Your letters are always a pleasure, but this one was so different. I indeed see nothing strange about the letter, or the paper, which I suppose is for typewriting, but lover, what I want to know is, “where is the strange place at midnight.”
3 P.M.
Dear, I have been asleep and been sleeping on this letter, I am sending it just the same, because I think you ought to know how careless I am.
I had a grand visit with Mr. Fred Lazarus, a long one. Dear they want me in the store, but are afraid I’ll get married. He asked about my past, last year etc., and I frankly told him why I did not teach last year. He said he was afraid that man would come back and I would get married I said “No Sir” emphatically, but I did not suggest there might be a chance for another man in the game. I feel rather guilty, because I know I don’t want to go in there for more than a year, and not longer than a month, if I can get a teaching position. Then we dickered on salary. He said he would like to pay me a hundred a month but knew I was not worth that to them now, but might be after. Anyway, I suggested that I try it a month and it seems to meet with their approval. I have got to go back and make final arrangements. He said he was afraid they could not pay the salary, so I could live as I have been used to. Lover, why do people who do not know me, suggest that I have been reared in the lap of luxury? I can’t understand it. I like it in a way, for it makes me feel that maybe I am the least bit unique, rather than common, then again, I don’t know as I do like it. Anyway it is the way I “growed” and I can’t change it.
Dear, do you know what grand apples are raised in Mich? Wouldn’t it take forever for them to become fruitful? I mean trees. I think if you have a fruit farm in view, couldn’t you start the farm then, winters at least, for the first two or three years travel on the road, but you have got to take me with you.
Sweetheart do any old damn thing you please, but remember, I want you to come and get me and I will go anyplace with you.
I expect Mr. B. back tomorrow.
I like those beautiful little “blessings” you close your letters with. I can’t give you yours on paper, but the dear Lord hears them every night and morning.
Most lovingly – Roma.
My precious Roma;
The keenness of this August morning air whips my desire to write to the sweetest girl in Columbus, no, in Ohio, no, in the U.S.A.—well I just mean the sweetest girl I know.
A card mailed you Tuesday evening has already apprised you of my safe arrival.
My recent visit to you has furnished much food for serious thought, and reflecting upon it all gives me joy in elegant abundance. The stay at the “shrine” where I love to “worship” has made me better. I felt so much the need of refreshing my mental image of you. I cannot forget and sincerely appreciate the unusual welcome accorded me by your gracious host and hostess, Mr. and Mrs. Todd. I should have to indulge in many, even extravagant, superlatives were I to attempt to express my estimate of the kind reception given me. The interest shown and confidence placed in you make me feel proud and is a further flattering testimony of the sweet character that makes you the charming girl I know you to be. To me you seemed as a precious jewel amid the palatial surroundings and fittings of that beautiful home, adding, indeed, a true garnish. I know that you appreciate and recognize what a superior woman Mrs. Todd is.
The Donnelleys, their guest and myself took a spin with Mr. B. last evening in the “Silent Knight.” Later in the evening, after leaving the Donnelleys at the Columbia, we called at the church for Miss Marting and along with my niece from Detroit, we drove to the former’s home and enjoyed a concert on their new Victrola.
I found a great deal in the Los Angeles paper that looked tempting. It furnished part of my entertainment en route home.
I’ll make my regular Thursday call at the wharf boat this afternoon. Mrs. D., who knows of the trade we have been trying to make, told me last night that I was trying to run them out of town. I guess she is about right. Affairs at the Chemical are as usual.
And now, dearest Roma Belle, I must close my message. I trust this will find you as sweet as when I left you Tuesday afternoon. Make good use of the enclosure. Remember me kindly to both Mr. and Mrs. Todd.
I am hoping that an early mail will bring me a good letter from you. They are appreciated and highly treasured and I simply must have them.
Lovingly, Fred
To my only sweetheart:
You ask how I like your “bubbles”—well dearest, I like them and everything else you have, say and do—and I guess that’s pretty strong, eh! You stand before me like a Christ before Pilate—I find no fault in you. But love, I recall having heard that someone reputed to be wise and who played his or her role on the stage (you know, “all the world’s a stage”) of human events before you and I made our advent said “Love is blind.” I shall not even attempt to affirm or deny the truth that may be contained in that trite saying. You said that my two last letters made you so happy and when you say that you pay me a compliment indeed. You further said that they were the essence of love, pure and holy. My dear girl, I want to reply by way of reiteration that you are the very quintessence of love and every adorable and lovable attribute that attaches to a sweet girl. This is not the first time I have told you this.
To reach home at noon to-day and find a letter from you was the surprise—but oh, so agreeable—the taste that was left after reading your final from Bucyrus was painful beyond expression. The world suddenly became large—so large that you became lost and you cannot imagine how I felt. To think of you without an address was awful. Hell, I am glad you have landed geographically speaking.
Yes, I did use an awful word in that recent letter. You did use the dam that holds back water, but I thought you meant the more popular “damn”, but had misspelled it. I won’t do it again.
My dear girl, you have spoken wisely and well when you say that “everyone has burdens and sorrows to bear and many are heavier and harder than mine.” I would advise no one to take up the profession of teaching for the money that was in it but for the love of the work. The satisfaction of knowing you have employed your talents in lifting that part of the world with which you come in contact to a higher place is a joy that gold cannot buy.
When I suggested “teaching with Miss Hopper” dear, I had in mind only this—Miss Hopper’s influence or that of her family might be valuable in locating you in a position, desirable to you, in her own city or in a place nearby.
I feel that you are admirably equipped and qualified both by temperament and training to fill successfully the position you desire in the music department of any school. I surely agree with you that you made no mistake in taking up public school music as a specialty. It requires two things (at least) to make a success in any calling, vis., ambition and talent “useless each without the other” the one being the complement of the other. You possess an abundance of the one and of the other, you (judging from your credentials) need not hesitate to offer your services anywhere. Your comment on Portsmouth and its superintendent is appreciated by me and I think your opinion is well founded. People here are very critical, especially as to music, i.e., the many do criticize whether qualified to do so or not. So pet, I cannot imagine you stoical. Yes, I could love a little store clerk as much as the book agent or school teacher, provided it was you.
My dear girl, you have asked me some serious, aye, some sacred questions. I wish I were with you at this hour and could talk to you and you to me about these matters of such great import. You know my desire and you know my heart. There has been no change in either, though you expressed a fear in a recent letter that there might be. In fancy I see a rainbow reaching from my heart to yours and its beautiful colors, blending so harmoniously, symbolize and betoken faith, hope and love, that trinity of Christian graces—the greatest of which is love. Sweetheart, you ask if I am not “putting too great a commercial value on the whole affair.” Its consideration is highly important now rather than later; it dare not be ignored. It is absolutely essential because the business side of this is of sufficient weight to warrant most serious consideration.
My affairs in a business way are chaotic and the immediate future is not clear. Income has been sliced more than I dare tell you. I had some fairly definite plans outlined and up until within a few weeks ago I felt hopeful of setting them in profitable operation.
As to the luxuries, dear girl, I, as well as you have tasted them, and some of that “taste” is lodged in the blood and is not easily eradicated i.e., not willingly. I have gradually felt myself leaving the cotton for the lisle then to the silk with a consequent increased draft upon the exchequer.
Dear heart, I have (reluctantly) mentioned some of these things, because you have given them prominence in your letter, however, it was a very proper thing for you to do. Oh, the whispering of that Xmas dream! What a grand cool night for loving! ‘Tis just cool enough for a light wrap. If I had you close up to my side, where I could fondle, caress, kiss and love you and hear your sweet voice whispering the sweeter words of that Christmas dream, love, I don’t know what I would do. It would be really dangerous.
My dear girl, when you write “Think of the excellent chances you have had”, I am reminded of those well known lines “Of all sad words of heart or pen, The saddest are these, It might have been.”
To quote again “I don’t want to use my best strength and days teaching school, I want to give them to you—sweetheart, you cannot know the tremendous effect of the appeal implied in those words. Dear Roma, this, as an “affair” of the heart, is sublimely beautiful, and at this very moment there comes rushing to my mind the oft-quoted words “The heart is a dangerous steed and if given too much rein, may throw you.”
“How long would you want me to wait?” is a question most difficult for me to answer with satisfactory definiteness to either one of us. If the plans I had hoped for (and I almost said prayed for) could be realized, the answer to that question wouldn’t be at all hard. The uncertainty of it all is not conducive to my happiness and I am trying to avoid having it interfere with the happiness and peace of others. You said I have been generous and unselfish and offered to “give” you to another for reasons then explained. Let me say to you that that was not an easy thing to do and only my great love and regard for you allowed me to say what I did. Dear Roma, my generosity dwindles to small proportions when compared with yours—“to give me your best strength and days.”
My love, I have heard it said that a man never loves but once, if that be true, I am in a dangerous position. What I told you and what I had before told Mr. B. remains true. There you have it. Say, do you know that you used one of the sweetest words in our language when you wrote “cuddle.” I wish I was close enough now.
I note all you say on the subject of farms. Give the chicken proposition a wide berth. The idea of the fruit farm in Ohio (not out West) is appealing and I have gone into the matter quite a bit. I took the short Ag. course at O.S.U. with a view of developing a commercial apple orchard on the farm I then owned. I later discovered that my place was not well adapted for the purpose, so I sold it.
I almost forgot to mention that I called on Capt. C today and found he was not well so I did not open up our business affair. I had a check for him for last week’s freight. I’ll see him soon.
Don’t worry about those blue penciled clippings. I’ll not be angry with you no matter what you do. I simply couldn’t. Should you find them return them at your convenience. Forget the comb.
My mother arrived home Tuesday night bringing along my niece from Detroit.
Maybe the old man you heard forecasting those dire events is speaking as “one having authority” however, I shall not worry about those matters and I hope you won’t.
Be careful what you say to Mr. B. on those two important subjects. “Do you get me?”
I want to be the kind of a “friend” described by the orphan boy.
I believe I have discovered the defect in my letters. Perhaps you’ll note the change, beginning with my last letter.
I enjoy and appreciate a letter from you any time whether it be written on “bargain” tablet paper or on “scrap” found in a Cleveland park. Be sure and make them long and fat. Today’s was fine. I trust there are no big words in this letter, that will require your looking up. Perhaps your remark about big words is sarcasm.
I like the title of the book you are reading, wouldn’t it be nice if we could read it together and discuss the paragraphs or stanzas as we went along?
Dearest, the hour is very late, most twelve o’clock midnight and I must close this lengthy message. May it bear to you further evidence of my esteem, admiration and love. My He, who never forsaketh the righteous keep and guard over you both by day and by night, and may an unfaltering faith and trust sustain you.
Lovingly, Fred.
P.S. This letter is written on strange paper in a strange place but I hope it won’t sound too strange. F.
QBA 