Viewing page 78 of 154

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

LETTER EXCERPTS

[[line]]

[[underlined]] To Mother, January 1, 1925: [[/underlined]] Yesterday I spent the morning in Bldg.8 getting acquainted and spent some of the afternoon over in 41 in the engineering office getting acquainted there. This man Steenstrup whom I am working for, is supposed to be quite a man I guess. He is a German, I believe, (he was a Dane) and a wonderful mechanic and designer. He designed these furnaces I have been speaking about. The general Electric Co. can't patent the process because it has been used before, but they have all the patents on Steenstrup's furnaces, which seems to be enough to create a monopoly. No one else ever had the courage to attempt the process on a large scale -- said it couldn't be done.

[[underlined]] To Willie, January 3, 1925: [[/underlined]] The time coming back here (from Utica) seemed like weeks and weeks. I just sat looking out of the window and thinking how we had come along that selfsame path together so short a time (by the clock) ago. I have never in all my life had an hour and a quarter go so fast. It seemed as though I got on the train with you, we talked together for a moment, and then I got off. ...... Yesterday I received Mother's letter in answer to mine telling her about our happiness. Well, I just cried over it; I don't know why but it must be just for happiness. She was so lovely about it. I wish I could read you her whole letter. Just a little of what she said: "It seems so strange, and yet so natural, so fitting, that [[underlined]] my [[/underlined]] son should have found his dream-maiden waiting for him far from the turmoil of the world, out on the glistening rocks, surrounded by the ocean. It all seems like a lovely idyll of the sea, and the sky, and starlight, and two young souls meeting in a candle-lit chapel to worship the Father in spirit and truth. May this happiest New Year so far be for you both, the doorway to Life and Love and Joy." ...... It seems so strange to think how little I dreamed that first time I saw you what you would someday mean to me. Remember, we stood in line next to each other in the Rose Room and I asked you if you knew the Barnes family in Louisville. I can remember that so well, and how much courage it took to ask you that. I debated with myself long before summoning enough courage to speak. And then I have thought often of that evening we stood together last summer on the rocks and watched the Candlelight Service from afar. I think that experience one of the most perfect I have had and I believe that in it, was the dawn of my love for you although I scarcely realized it then. Remember that night, Willie? -- the darkness -- the roar of the breakers -- the fog -- the yellow light coming, burning, and then slowly fading away in the old chapel windows -- the sound of the distant singing -- the salt of the sea! Oh, I do hope we can get to Star Island next summer. It is so wonderful, I can scarcely believe that such a place can really exist. It is like our love -- so beautiful I have to stop every once in a while and tell myself I'm not in a dream. I do wish Louisville were not so far away, or that I could crawl through the radio or something –-