Jottings From Fifth & G: Memories from the past

Several years ago, I went to an Estate Sale in Northeast Portland. There were two shoe boxes on a high shelf in a walk-in closet. Upon opening the boxes, I learned they held letters written in 1942 and beyond. Realizing that I held first person history from WWII, I asked the estate sale staff how much they’d cost. We finally agreed on $5 for each box. The boxes were relocated to shelves in my closet where they remained undisturbed for several years.

After I retired in 2014, I rediscovered the boxes and their content. There were dozens of letters written to Barbara. Barbara was a student at the University of California at Berkeley. This was uncommon for a woman in the 1940s. Several of the letters were from her sweetheart who was serving in the military overseas.

Naturally, these letters could not provide information that could disclose anything that could be dangerous if the enemy obtained it. He returned one of the letters she had sent him with grammar and spelling corrections. I anticipated that this might not be a forever relationship. This prediction became reality when he went missing in action. The box also included a letter from a friend who provided night security for a Dam, which said that he refused to believe Dave was dead until there was proof. This was the only communication regarding this topic.

Some of the letters were from Barbara’s mother. My favorite is “Honey, I do wish you wouldn’t drink liquor with your meals. You know, Uncle George drinks liquor with his meals and you saw what happened to him. A drunk man is ugly, a drunk woman is even worse.” Barbara met and married John. Several letters were about their wedding and future. After reading and organizing the letters, I made it my mission to return them to the family.

Finding John’s obituary in a Salem, Oregon newspaper, I wrote to the pastor of the church about the letters and my hope to return them to the family. He gave my letter to their son who contacted me. His mother was still alive. She lived in a memory care facility.

In August of 2015, the son, daughter-in-law and I were able to meet in person so I could give them the letters.

They were amazed with the volume of letters that spanned over the decades and the variety of topics spoken about. A special wood box was kept in Barbara’s Room and was made to hold the letters so she had access to them any time. She had staff read them to her periodically.