Dear B

En route -
April 18, 1948
9:35 p.m.
Now in Philly

Dear B -

A long time since I wrote to you
In verses, with a rhyme or two,
But since the man said what he did
'bout talents which should not be hid,
I'd better write while time is ripe
So when I can't I will not gripe
And find my time for doing such
Is all but gone and lost its clutch.

A thank you note this one should be,
For being so doggoned nice to me -
A thank you for the walks and talks,
And coping with me and my balks.
I'll miss you, dear - that's what you said,
And talk like that goes to my head.
I'll miss you too, in many ways,
And for three weeks will count the days.

I'll do my work, and get my sleep,
And carefully avoid thoughts deep.
I'm sorry that you seem to think
My pep is gone - I'm on the brink
Of nervousness, complete collapse -
But you are wrong I think, perhaps,
I need a rest, a change of scene,
But with our goal I'll be serene,
All will be well, I have no doubt,
And all we hope for will turn out.
________

We're out of filthy Philly now,
and farther from the land of cow.
Do let me know how it goes with you
The many things you plan to do.
Huh?

Love,

Fretting Florence

The sweetest greeting card

This was sent by Florence Delano to Clarence Brown in 1947. She was 30 at the time. Can you imagine a world where goodness like this ruled the day? (You may have to set aside frustration with gender-typing for a moment.) Isn't this just the sweetest thing in the universe? It makes me so happy to see this happy love.





This is the inside of the card.



268

From Florence (1947)

May 1947 ... an excerpt from page 5 of a wonderful letter from Florence after one of her first visits to the farm
....................................

referring again to your letter: and the parts of the activity, etc., i remember. jessie says i should have tried to drive the tractor, and and guess i should apologize for my stubbornness, if that's what it was. there is much i want to learn about farming, and it probably wouldn't hurt me to be able to do that ... i hope you were not disgusted with me because i refused so flatly. perhaps i should have feigned interest, though the truth would come out later and that would be more difficult ... frankness is one of my questionable qualities. i should watch myself in using it, i suppose ...

your instructions to "open with care" are unnecessary, for i open all your letters with care. you enclose so many interesting things i fully expect some day to find a live toad in one of the envelopes - but don't let me put ideas into your head.

the Comstock publishing company sen me literature about "Land for the Family" and a farm management manual, the latter for a dollar. do i want one? now that you have told me that you can provide pamphlets on subjects such as farm ponds, i don't leap before i ask. can you please tell me WHY the man has a bottle of mile in the middle of the vegetables? poetic license, i presume ...

enuf! you have work to do and i am keeping you from it.



240

Florence

236

Pop writes ... after their first visit together (1946)

189

The rest of the first letter from Florence (1946)

Dear Clarence (1946)

More correspondence between Jane's parents during their court-and-spark days. They met through a personal ad her mother placed in the Saturday Review of Literature. This is her mother's letter following her father's initial reply. More here.

______________________________

August 11, 1946

Dear Clarence,

Had you despaired of ever hearing from Box 419-Q, SRL. I am sorry if my delay in answering your letter made you think it was inadequate. It certainly was not, and since the day it arrived I have been trying to make time to answer it. Since you say you have little time except for "necessary" correspondence, I know you will excuse me for my delay. True, I asked for correspondents, and I do love to write letters. Actually, I can blame only my work, which keeps my busy all day, every day. I had thought the summer would be a little less busy, but it has been otherwise.

I dug into the World Almanac to find out what your dust-gathering key meant, and I am duly impressed. There are Phi Beta Kappa keys floating around in my family, but I am not the owner. I had two years in college (St. Laurence U., Canton, N.Y.) and found out that I was not a genius. I am more convinced of it now that I have spent ten years in the newspaper world where really intelligent persons abound. I came home from college to work with my father and sister in publishing The Amityville Record, which my father took over in 1904. I was born here in Amityville, and with the exception of my sojourn at college, I have lived here always. I know almost everyone, the same number of persons know me, and I do enjoy it. But you were quite correct in surmising that I long for new friends who can write and talk on a plane higher than the unusual trend here. I like people and I am interested in their joys and sorrows, but they are happy in their rut, and I get impatient with them.

For that reason it pleased me no end to read your description of yourself. To be fair, I must retaliate with one of myself. I am 30, as of a few weeks ago, 5 ft. 0 tall, black more or less curly hair (depending on how much dampness comes in off the Great South Bay), brown eyes (always wished they were blue), passable proportions and the proper number of appendages. I smile more often than not because it makes me feel good and doesn't seem to have ill effect on anyone else. I seldom laugh loud, but I appreciate clever humor and take part in family bouts of punning which I think help an active mind to stay active. (My college classmates groaned loud and long at my puns, but I always told them they were jealous of my nimble brain!) I am unmarried and quite happy about it because I would rather be that way than doing dishes for any one of the few who have proposed. If The Man comes along some day I will be glad to forsake my daily chores for housework.

Until that time, however, I will do as I do now: Up at 6:30, to work (two doors away) at 7. Report the news from its source or by telephoning the proper authorities; write it, read proof on it, put it in the forms, supervise the lockup, stamp the address labels on the papers, and make out the subscription bills. I'll continue to do the bookkeeping, make up ads, collect social items, attend village and school board meetings, be on hand at all public functions from band concerts to firemen's tournaments. I'll travel around the village on my bicycle, wave to friends and folks I think I must wave to, and spread goodwill where I can. I'll continue to attend Junior League meetings and try to rouse the housewives and working girls enough to show them the importance of being interested in local government, improvements, etc.

(Page two of this wonderful letter will be posted tomorrow)

87