More Love Letters From 1941

In this letter George talks about a not so pleasant moment with Fran. What did you do Grandpa?? I guess Grandpa didn't think it was very unpleasant at all. I can just imagine Grandma telling the priest about her most unpleasant moment with Grandpa the next day in confession. I wonder how many Hail Mary's she got for that one?? Good excuse though Grandpa....a fella and a gal can't go around all the time praying...classic! Something tells me that if Fran's Mother knew about the not so pleasant moment, she would worry more when Fran goes out with George!


February 26, 1941

Dearest Fran

Received your letter yesterday, which sure was a surprise, and this is the first chance I have had to answer it. I was going to write last night but I worked until 12:30 disinfecting chicken fountains for the peeps, then I had to get up early this morning and help load hogs, with the boss. A swell job before breakfast, you should try it some time. I believe you would eat better.

Fran, I am glad to hear that your Mother doesn't worry when you are with me. It makes a man feel good to know that. I know that my Mother thinks a lot of you because she is never up when I get home, as long as she knows that I am going out with you, everything is ok. As far as our not so pleasant moment that you call it Fran, it looked alright to me at the time, because I sure do love you Fran, and I believe that you feel the same about me, at least I hope so. A fellow and girl can't go around all the time praying, after all we are only human. But i guess we can find other things to do, to keep us occupied, when we are together. And I want us to be together for a long, long time.

Things out here on the farm are moving along rather nicely, we are beginning to see some sure signs of spring. Five of the hogs are getting ready to have pigs, and incidentally we had twin lambs today. Mother and children are doing ok. That's three lambs out of two sheep, not bad. Six more sheep to go. Well honey I have lots more to tell you, but will wait until I see you. It seems that Friday will never get here. Good nite Fran.

Love George


My Grandpa the cad! Thanks for not praying all the time Grandpa!

Fran worked as a telephone switch board operator for the local telephone company in New Oxford. I believe that one or two of her sisters also worked there too. I will have to check on that more? I do love how once again George gets inappropriate and asks for the job with her as long as he could work with one hand! I'm also not sure what he means by his P.S. comment?

March 4, 1941

Dear Fran : -

Please excuse me for not writing at an earlier date, but this is the first chance I have had to let you know, that I am still thinking of the most beautiful, most precious, one and only, piece of humanity in the United States, including Canada, all points, N.E.S. and W. Hi honey.

Boy oh boy, what a weekend, snow shoveling from 6:30 Sat morning until 5 Sat night. I don't care if I never see snow again. There wasn't a bit of snow in the fields, it all seemed to drift out on to the road.

Coming home Sat morning I tried to drive around one of the drifts and skid into a ditch, so there I was at 2 in the morning, a mile from home and without a shovel. The next time I will listen to Mother. So I left the car sit, and walked home, boy my ears are still thawing.

It took the neighbors, a tractor and about 3 hours of shoveling to get the car out the next morning. After that we had to open the rest of the road.

The neighbors sure had a swell time kidding me. But I told them the date I had the night before was worth it so that shut them up.

How about seeing you again Friday? Or do you work that night? If so, write and let me know what night suits you best. They're all the same to me.

How's everything in N.O./ including yourself? And how did you make out with the night operator? if I can work the same hours as you do, I'll take the job. Providing I can do the work with one hand.

Well honey I guess I had better close and hit the hay. it's 12:30. If you can't make this out, blame it on the shoveling. so long Fran.

Love
George

P.S. a few pills, for your strange illness
xxx