Dancing In a Jar (14 page)

I hope by now things have settled down at Hillside Avenue. It is only natural that you would’ve had a major adjustment in going back to your childhood home as now a grand married woman! Mother says she has been by to visit you twice and that you look well.

I ran into Ena Farrell at the post office and wasn’t too happy to find out that she wrote you about Mrs. Edwards. It was a very sad affair, but you must remember that this was her fifteenth childbirth, not her first. Aunts and uncles have been recruited to take some of the smaller children and I have given her husband, Joe, time off to sort out arrangements at home. It riles me that the Catholic Church encourages this sort of unbridled childbearing, regardless of family income or health risk, but I’ve had this argument with Father Thorne many times and to no avail.

Anyway, you’re not to think about things like this in the next while.

Celestine Giovannini has been a godsend at the mine. We are at peak production with two shifts running seven days a week. The men are happy about the extra money in the run up to Christmas, so all is quiet on the union front.

We are expecting a ship to pick up that last big order at the end of the month before weather closes in for a while. Then I’m on the next ship to New York City. Hurrah.

I see there’s a meeting of Bucknell Alumni at the Harrington Hotel right after Thanksgiving. I hope you can make it and give everyone my regards.

That’s it from this end for now, but I’ll keep this letter open until I have to run to the post office.

Love,
Don

. . . . . . . . . . . .

I knew I would have more news. I forgot to mention that I dug up some great carrots and parsnip from your garden of plenty on the weekend. I was worried about leaving them in the ground, but around here lots of people do. They say that they sweeten up a little giving you a wonderful surprise in May. So our baby will have fresh Newfoundland vegetables from her mom’s garden next spring.

Mail boat is rounding the Cape and I am on the run.

245 Hillside Avenue
Nutley, New Jersey

November 28, 1934

Dear Don,

You will not recognize me when you see me as I have become considerably rounder. I would like to think it’s all baby, but I indulged hugely at Thanksgiving. I don’t remember Mother putting on such a lavish affair, but her Scottish tendencies were not in evidence on Thursday past. We dined like kings and Daddy had invited several people from the church and his pipe band. Ivah was home from Bucknell and brought three girls with her who couldn’t go all the way to their homes for the holiday.

Do you think university life has changed that much since we left? I don’t remember so much nattering about parties and boys, but maybe I’m just becoming an old married woman! I think they certainly saw me that way and since I wasn’t aching to be part of their conversation, that suited me just fine. Mother thinks I have become very quiet at these events. I think I just prefer it when what people say actually adds up to something.

On Friday I went to your house for leftovers. Everyone was so kind. Your father seems to be spending a lot of time in Philadelphia where he says sales are firmer than in the city.

Dr. Lee gave me a good going over at my appointment yesterday. He seemed shocked that I knew my blood pressure history, and seemed genuinely well prepared for the birth. I told him I had an English nurse who had worked in a Grenfell Mission hospital and he was most impressed. He told me when he was a student he had gone to hear Dr. Grenfell speak in New York City and left enchanted.

That’s all from here at the moment. I am counting the days until you both arrive, hopefully with you coming first!

I’m grateful I brought my rug hooking. Mother keeps trying to interest me in painting dishes with her, a task I never enjoyed before and certainly can’t appreciate now.

I’ve sent some beautiful cotton fabric to the Etchegary girls. I discovered it in my hope chest and can’t think of a better use. They can make shift dresses for their work at the telegraph office and I know they will love it. I’ve written Olivia, Gertie, Ena, and Mrs. G too, so if you see them tell them a letter is winging its way.

Daddy will mail this on his way back to the drugstore. Everyone sends their love to you, especially me.

U

St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

November 30, 1934

Urla darling,

I’m dashing you a quick note that will hopefully get to you from the Grand Bank post office. We have had three days of strong SSWesterly gales, filling the harbor with pans of ice from the Gulf. As a result, the ore ship can’t get in, and nothing else either. Mr. Louis is attempting the road to Grand Bank tomorrow morning so I’m giving him this to mail.

I don’t want you to panic yet, but it won’t be possible for me to leave
here until the ore has left the wharf. Of course, it won’t be possible for me to leave here until the ship lands to take me. In any event, we need a good wind change to make either possible.

Father Thorne insists he is doing everything possible in the upstairs department to get me there.

I’ll get this over to Mr. Louis now. He and I have a regular evening date to listen to
Amos and Andy
. He became a fan while he was rum running in the States and insists it was part of the reason he bought a radio. Of course half the population of the lane also comes to listen!

Keep your fingers crossed and spirits up.

My love always,
Don

245 Hillside Avenue
Nutley, New Jersey

Christmas Day, 1934

Dear Don,

Not in my wildest dreams did I think I would be celebrating this Christmas without you. I think about you every moment and I’m so glad you are joining Mrs. G again for Christmas day. I can picture every part of your day and that gives me some comfort.

Nor in my wildest dreams did I think I could love a little creature as I love Barbara. She is so pink and vibrant and round that it brings a smile to my face just to clap eyes on her. She is so interested in everything going on around her that sometimes feeding can be a frustrating affair, but I quickly forgive her. She is just two weeks old today and has regained to her birth weight. Mother and Dad have fixed up my own infant cradle, so Barbara and I are quite comfortable for now.

Christmas here threatens to be very quiet and I can’t help but compare to last year. Here, most of the excitement happens outside the house—in restaurants or theaters or ballrooms whereas in St. Lawrence it all comes to you or to a neighbor down the road. So enjoy it all for me please.

Ivah is home but always dashing to the latest and shiniest event, like a crow. She has been into the city a lot, taking in a number of Broadway plays. She has met some high-fliers at varsity and I wish I could like them more than I do, but I find them all quite superficial. Otherwise, it is great to see her, and she is her adorable self when she’s around Barbara. Even Mother has been caught humming and smiling to herself!

Dorothy and Bill have visited with Sweet William, who looks like he will be a tall serious boy but for now is a very pleasant little chap. Bill is besotted with him and I have to admit to pangs of jealousy when I see the fun he has with him. But I’m hoping you will get to see your
little girl very soon. Please let me know as soon as ship traffic resumes and we can fix dates for your arrival.

I won’t last much longer tonight as I rose early this morning to a little beak looking for food, and then off to church where I bounced Barbara from one hip to the other to buy some silence. Remind me, if they ever visit, not to bring Mother and Daddy to church in St. Lawrence. Between the Latin and the multitudes under ten years old it might just be the end of them! I had forgotten how solemn the Methodists can be.

The mummers will be heading your way tomorrow night, so fill me in on who you recognize and who manages to fool you. Please give my love to the Giovanninis, big and small, and know that I think of you every moment.

Love,
Urla and Barbara

1935

St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

January 5, 1935

Dear Urla,

I know by now you have received my telegraph. I know that you are as disappointed as I am.

We certainly did not see this one coming and Celestine Giovannini was more shocked than me. We think that over Christmas, with time off and liquor really running, Aloysius Turpin was able to convince a lot of men to stage a strike. I guess we had fooled ourselves that promises made in October could keep the men going through to Spring. Now we have a real problem, certainly a bigger one, and I have to put my thinking cap on for this one.

It doesn’t help that I can’t reach Siebert anywhere. I know they have friends in Vermont and go there regularly over the Christmas period. I have sent telegraphs to his office and home, so am hoping for some direction very soon. I still feel showing up here in his tweed plus fours, felt fishing hat, and a fly rod straight out of the catalogue did not help convince anyone that this operation is truly strapped for cash. But that’s the party line and I have to follow it and encourage the men to do the same.

On a lighter note, a shipment of goods from Saint Pierre managed
to come overland through Grand Bank. The ice had dampened everyone’s spirits and supply of spirits! So Christmas was made brighter with some wonderful brandy and scotch, the finest I have ever tasted. On New Year’s Eve, Mr. Louis offered me delicately preserved dried fruit and chocolate and I dared not ask the provenance. Mrs. G’s Christmas dinner also seemed to benefit from some foreign supplies, so there were many contented faces around the table.

For now, I will be doing what they call a “half board” at the Giovanninis. That way I can be sure of two good meals a day but go home to sleep. I’ve had lots of offers to help take care of me in your absence but prefer to keep things official especially as we go through this strike business.

Don’t feel the need to defend me around any dinner table as I am happy to take care of that myself. I know no one there can appreciate the immediacy of this situation nor my need to be on site.

Love to you both,
Don

24 Wayne Place
Nutley, New Jersey

January 21, 1935

Dear Donald,

Urla has just left with baby Barbara so I thought I would get a note off to you this evening. She really is the most darling baby and Urla doesn’t appear to have a feather out of her. I can’t imagine it is easy living with her parents and I offered her a place here with us if need be.

I held afternoon tea for the Ladies Guild as I wanted them to meet the baby. I had to remind Urla to dress Barbara in the layette they had sent from Burgdorf’s. She looked very handsome indeed and
everyone was tickled pink. Your wife has inherited her mother’s stubborn streak and for some reason always dresses Barbara in odd matinee jackets. She acquiesced today and everybody looked resplendent. We had the fine Decker china too and cream cakes, so you will be happy to know the family was well presented.

We are well into winter here. The fireplaces are going constantly and I am tired of asking your father to install central heating like the Vannellis have next door. He travels to Philadelphia a lot these days, going by train, often coming back with another salesman he has met. So keeping the house warm while he’s gone is a chore. Howard seems to have eyes for no one but Violet and darned if I can figure that one out.

Poor Edith is back and forth to the city, even when it is thirty degrees outside. She is working so hard and has auditioned for some minor parts off Broadway. You would be so proud to see the time she puts in practicing.

I hate to remind you but it would be so lovely if she had a fur to keep her warm going back and forth. I understand they are very reasonable up your way and I’ve seen quite a few at Sunday church. Mine can certainly wait but perhaps you could find your way to send one home for E? If that isn’t possible, would you mind if we took the money from your account here and looked around for a bargain?

King is scratching at the door, so I will close this letter for now.

Love always,
Mother

P.S. Pop says all kinds of opportunity is opening up in Phila and you would only be a couple of hours away.

245 Hillside Avenue
Nutley, New Jersey

February 2, 1935

Dear Don,

Well the groundhog certainly went back into his hole today, as the sun is filling the sky. I swear I could almost feel Spring when I took Barbara for her walk this morning. I think that might be the first sun she’s had on her face and, like a good Poynter, she seemed to revel in it.

We left Hillside Avenue and walked along Grant, watching the squirrels scampering about in the old leaves. We stopped in to visit Daddy, aka Grandpa, at the drug store where I had my favorite vanilla soda while Barbara slept, oblivious to her many fans. That was her Nutley walk.

At night, in the quiet of our bedroom, I take her on walks in St. Lawrence. Sometimes we head down to Farrell’s store, greet everyone around the wood stove, and buy molasses candy before we continue on, around the landwash, looking for bottles with messages in them.

Other times, we go down to the telephone office where Florence and Kathleen make a huge fuss over her and she plays with their balls of wool like a kitten. Maybe we go to visit Mr. Louis who bounces her on his knee, clapping her hands in time with his feet.