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Young Bess Wallace, Young Harry Truman, handwriting background.

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The Dear Bess and Dear Harry Podcast, from Harry S Truman National Historic Site

Harry S Truman

From Harry S Truman National Historic Site; a chance to share some of the stories associated with Harry Truman, Bess W. Truman and their times. We will share letters written between Harry Truman, Bess Wallace Truman, Margaret Truman, and others. We will link to digital versions of the letters in case you'd like to see them. You may need to refresh the page for the latest episode.

Episodes

Dear Bess: March 28/29, 1918

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for March 29, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

A significant Dear Bess letter for you today, postmarked on this date in 1918. After several months of difficult drilling and training, Harry Truman is prepared to make the trip across the ocean to serve in the Great War. We can only imagine how conflicted he was feeling inside. On one hand, he volunteered for this duty, and felt it his noble calling as a man and as an American. But on the other hand, he was leaving behind his mother, his sister, the family farm, and a beautiful blonde haired girl with the most beautiful blue eyes, who he has loved now for 28 years. She wanted to get married before he left, but he declined. He knew the risks of what he was doing, and didn’t want to leave Bess Wallace a widow. Note how Truman briefly explains how the censoring of letters would work. But he needed letters from Miss Wallace more than ever. In his uniform shirt pockets, Harry Truman kept photographs of his mother and sister, and one of Bess Wallace. They were like a forcefield for him.

Here's the letter.

Jersey City, N.J.

Dear Bess:

It is eleven o'clock and I've got to arise at three in order to get my goods and chattels in readiness to go on the boat, but I am going to write you one last letter on this side on the last day I can. I didn't get to see Gates because they kept me here until nearly two o'clock reading orders and instructions as to how we must act, what we must say and not say when we arrive in General Pershing's jurisdiction. About all we can write is "I am well if you are well it is well," and if we were to put that down S.V.B.E.V. they'd destroy the letter and probably hang us for spies. I don't suppose I can even say I love you, because some heartless censor would cut it out as a state secret and spoil what was on the other side. If you get any letters with strips cut out of them you'll know that is what I said and that I'm always saying it. I am awfully sorry but I didn't get to go to White's for the same reason I didn't get to see Gates. It was too late by the time I got through here to do anything whatever in town. If I'd stayed here another week I'd be writing home for money and I haven't got anything for it either only a very uncomfortable pair of feet because of their not being well acquainted with hard pavements. Have two immense blisters, which I never had in all my Ft. Sill marching and countermarching. Bought me a Sam Brown belt today and I look real fussy in it. They're the kind that have a strap over the shoulder and a broad red leather belt in the center with loud brass trimmings. Have to carry a can of brass polish to keep it looking well. It has a hook for a saber but I never expect to wear one.

I didn't get a letter today and I'm terribly disappointed. I know its Uncle Sam's fault on the delivery and I may get it on the boat anyway. Hope so.

My new address is 129th Field Artillery Detachment, 35th Division, A.E.F. via New York. It will take two envelopes to get it all on. Wired you today and as you are reading it I'll probably be going out of Sandy Hook behind a warship.

Remember that I've always loved you and shall continue to no matter what happens, and when the Great God Ammon Ra weighs me for good and for bad I'm hoping that will be for the main and principal cause of the good outweighing. I am hoping to cable you from Berlin soon.

Yours always, Harry

A very significant letter for today...written by Harry Truman to Bess Wallace as he is preparing to ship to Europe to serve in the Great War.

A digital copy of the letter can be seen here, courtesy of the Truman Library: https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/march-29-1918-postmark

Dear Bess: April 1, 1911

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for April 1, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site.

This is not an April fool prank, but Harry Truman refers to April 1 in this letter from this day in 1911. This may have been about four months into their fabled courtship. It provides an exciting insight into his life on the farm in Grandview. Today, it takes us only minutes to get from Grandview to Independence. In their world, it was a much more extensive experience.

The Truman Home will be reopening for tours starting Wednesday, April 6, 2022, after a significant closure from COVID. We are open Wednesdays to Sundays. Come and see 219 North Delaware Street! And please visit the Truman Library, which has a wonderful exhibit focused on these marvelous letters.

Here’s the letter.

Grandview, Mo. April 1, 1911

Dear Bessie,

April Fool Day. Mamma says it is always customary to send blank sheets of paper today instead of written ones. Well perhaps you'd rather get the blank ones, but I am going to fill these and spoil the spirit of the day.

You see I have been sowing oats all week, got done Thursday night, and hauled about six tons of hay yesterday. My face is a sight, as the girls say. You know the wind blew something "fierce" last Tuesday and Wednesday and the sun also had some effect. Between them I look like raw beef or a confirmed "booze fighter." My voice is also somewhat weary from yelling at the horses. You know we drive four plugs to a drill-have them abreast. It is an impossibility to have four with inclinations alike. I had four whose names may be some index to their character-William, Samuel, Jane and X. X is a bronc-if you know what that is-he has an insane desire to arrive at the other end of the field in the shortest possible time. You dare not touch him with a whip or let him hear one if you can help. William-Bill we call him of course-is an ex-buggy horse. He hasn't much idea of work but to get out of it if he can. I yell at him in my sleep sometimes. When I am not hallooing "Bill, Bill go on," I am saying the same to Sam. Sam is a very large ex-dray horse and he never hurries under any consideration unless I poke him with a sharp stick or land on him with a baling wire whip. Jane, as Mrs. Barclay would say, is just right. She goes as she should. Well when I land on Sam and Bill, Jane and X want to run away. So I have to take it out in lung work and unprintable names. You can just bet that I am glad I'm done. I always sow Vivian's and mine too. This time I sowed seventy acres in five days. That is moving some. Vivian is well had has been hauling hay for me while I sowed his oats. (I do wish I had your new bottle of ink.) Did you get an invitation to the high school reception for Professor Bryant? I did but I can't go. I have a "previous engagement" to a tacky party. I am going as I usually go when at home and I bet I take the cake. My very best friends would refuse to recognize me if they ever saw me in town in my farm rags. They are dirty and tattered and torn with hog snoot marks, splashed milk, and other things too numerous to mention in their makeup. You ask Ethel what a pretty figure I cut when I pretend to work. Mamma ropes me in once in a while and makes me exchange for a clean set, but they don't feel right until I wear them a day or two.

I am glad your "umbrell" is a useful as well as ornamental article. You know they generally are not both.

I would certainly be glad to attend church with you in Independence and hear your choir.

I guess you will have a fine time at the river tomorrow morning. I haven't been down on those bluffs since I was a time-keeper for L. J. Smith. You know I was once a hobo paymaster. Not a pleasant job either.

I am sorry to hear of Miss Dicie's illness but I guess she'll soon recover. Lively people are never sick long. I hope your mother is well by this time. Our whole family is in good health. Papa only has to hop on crutches but he'll soon be over that.

You say you have gone back to W. D. Howells, well I have never come to him yet. He must be all right for he was a particular friend of Mark Twain's. It's luck I guess but I have never read one of his books. I certainly did enjoy The Mistress of Shenstone. I have read The Rosary since I read it and they are both good. I have also been reading the history of Jenghiz Khan the Tartar. He is the only great man in history who had no effect on American history, according to Miss Phelps. You know she began with Adam and came down. But I never heard of Jenghiz till recently. Well I am wound up but shall quit here. Please write me when you have the time as I enjoy your letters very much. I am

Sincerely, Harry

A charming letter from Harry Truman to Bess Wallace from April 1, 1911. Some fascinating insight into Truman's work on the family farm in Grandview. Plus insights into what Mr. Truman and Miss Wallace were reading, and more.

A digital copy of the original is here: https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/april-1-1911

Dear Mamma and Mary (Truman): April 5, 1947

Transcript

Hello, and welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for April 5, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

Well, no Dear Bess or Dear Harry letter today…we thought we would try something different. Today, we would like to share a letter that President Harry S Truman wrote to his mother, Martha Ellen Truman, and his sister, Mary Jane Truman, on this date in 1947.

In a way we are lucky to have these letters. While preparing his memoirs, Harry Truman reviewed a lot of these letters, and his staff made photocopies. Mary Jane Truman, however, unfortunately destroyed the originals, so the photocopies are all that we have left. In letters to his family, Truman felt comfortable sharing his joys and frustrations as president. His family had the ability to be tonics for his soul. By the time this letter was written, Mamma Truman was in the last few months of her life. Mary Jane was the last surviving sibling, living until 1978.

Here's the letter.

The White House Washington

April 5, 1947

Dear Mamma & Mary:- I have, as usual been up to my eyes in work and haven't had a chance to write promptly. I was glad to get the Dr.'s letter and am hoping to see the pictures next time he takes them. I am glad Mrs. Lester i there with you and I hope you will be able to get Lillie when she leaves.

This has been a right hectic week. The Congress acts like a lot of school boys or even worse. They have been piddling around now for 90 days and have sent me four or five little bills affecting special things like extention (sic) of war powers in certain things and some special things for special sections of the country. But for real policy legislation - nothing.

The Atomic Energy Commission fight finally came to a test vote. Mr. Taft has succeeded in making a real fool of himself as have several other so called "leading" Republicans. I am of the opinion that the country has had about enough of their pin head antics.

Tonight I am to make a nation wide speech to the Democrats on policy. I hope it comes out all right.

Margaret will go to Independence Tuesday to be in Mary Shaws wedding. If the weather is good I may come out next Sunday. But don't count on it too much. Love to you both

Harry

We have a special treat for you today...not a Dear Bess or a Dear Harry letter, but a rare letter that President Harry S Truman wrote to his mother and sister. We're grateful to have these letters. Writing letters like these to his family was quite important to Harry Truman.

You can see a digital copy of the "original" here: https://catalog.archives.gov/id/165318606

(The "original" is actually a photocopy...unfortunately Harry Truman's sister, Mary Jane, destroyed the originals.)

Dear Bess: April 14, 1918

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for April 14, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

A most important letter for you today, a letter written by First Lieutenant Harry S Truman, recently arrived in France, writing home to Miss Bess Wallace in Independence, Missouri. Lieutenant Truman shares his first impressions of France, shares a little about the voyage, and makes reference to the world of censoring letters, common practice in wartime. This letter is a splendid example of how Truman used his letters to Miss Wallace as a canvas, on which he painted wonderful illustrations with words.

Here's the letter.

Somewhere in France April 14, 1918

Dear Bess:

I landed today and have been trying to find a cable office that hasn't a U.S. censor in it. They won't let us cable for things like informing our people we landed safely because the wires are so crowded they can't send them. I guess you've got my cable I left in New York by this time anyway. My cussed pen went dry right up there and I had to get up and fill it. I am in a French hotel room about as big as your grandmother's room and the front hall combined and the floor's as cold as the top of a lake when it's frozen and the grip with the ink had to be as far from the bed as it could be. The electric switch turns off the light in the center of the room, and another turns lights on over the head of the bed. You can't light both at once—when one's on the other goes off automatically and as the bed is the warmest I am writing this in bed. We go to work tomorrow and I have been seeing this town, which is quite wonderful to me. It isn't Paris, but if Paris is as much livelier as it is bigger, Paris is some town. Wine and beer are sold here and most of the 35th Division have been in Oklahoma so long that they are trying to drink all there is here. They can't as the supply seems to be inexhaustible. Prices are marked strictly on the American plan in French money and they skin us alive. Our dinners cost as 10 francs apiece, about $1.80, so you see things are not so cheap. One fellow bought him a Sam Brown belt for 40 franks (I don't know why I spelled that with a k) and gave the man a ten-dollar bill. He got 60 francs in change and the belt so he made a belt and 3 francs by the deal and didn't know it until someone told him that ten dollars was 57 francs.

This is a beautiful place. I wish I could tell you where it is. (Call Boxley up.) The room I have at the Hotel des Voyageurs is furnished in mahogany with double lace curtains at its windows. It has a picture of Henry IV and his children on one side and Henry VIII of England at some state function on the other. There is a fire place (no fire) with a white marble mantelpiece, which has a Dutch clock under a glass case. (The clock doesn't run, probably on account of its age.) It is a beautiful gold affair with a couple of seventeenth-century pikemen on top of it. It is flanked by two exquisitely beautiful lamps and there is a large mirror over the whole thing about four feet square. The chairs are upholstered in red plush. It looks more like some count's bedroom than a hotel room.

I went to a picture show and saw Pearl White in one of the sections of a spasm that has been running a year or so over in U.S.A. The name and explanations were in French and I've forgotten its name but it was good old mellerdramer and I had not seen this episode. There was a comedy and another complete film that was good and a dancer named Miss Theer. We got tired and left before the show was over or I guess we could have been there yet. It began at two-thirty and we left at five-thirty, all for 1 franc 45 centimes—about 35 cents.

We had a most pleasant voyage and I found a well-formed rumor that we were sunk when we got to port. The navy has the army beaten forty ways for wild stories.

I've got to quit because it's 10:00 P.M. and lights go out at nine o'clock and I'm liable to get arrested.

Write me as below.

Yours always, Harry S. Truman, 1st Lt. 129th F.A. Det. 35th Division, A.E.F.

Today we feature an important letter from First Lieutenant Harry S Truman to Bess Wallace...a letter written shortly after Lieutenant Truman arrived in France.

A digital copy of the letter can be seen here: https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/april-14-1918

Dear Bess: Undated, Likely April, 1914

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for April 19, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

On this National Park Week, we thank all who allow us to take care of these special places and stories, and encourage all to visit their National Parks! There are over 400 units, in every state…there’s something for everyone. Find your park!

Have you ever felt frustrated by your automobile? Tires? The Engine? Well, this “Dear Bess” letter is for you. Unfortunately, Harry Truman did not put a date on the letter, but the postmark, plus context, makes us believe this was written in April of 1914.

Here’s the letter.

Grandview

Dear Bess:

I am two days late on the letter but I guess you have some slight idea as to the reason. I have been endeavoring to learn to push an auto. My head is rather thick I suppose. Anyway I'm not an expert chauffeur as yet. It is to be hoped that there will be some improvement by Sunday. Have had a puncture already, killed the engine times without number, and got the batteries all worn out by running on them. It is as old man Fred remarked, when you have an auto there is nothing else to cuss about. Your mind is entirely occupied cussing the auto. I managed to get up Dodson hill on high and then killed the engine, getting up about a 2 per cent grade. There is only one thing I can brag about and that is that I can stay in the road. Got by some thousands of telegraph poles without disaster and then ran over a horseshoe full of nails. You can imagine the result of that.

Have you recovered from the big dose of music? I made the K.C.S. limited all right. It was exactly on time and I only waited about three minutes. Mary arrived the next morning and all she could do was talk music and auto. She has an insane desire to drive. She'll soon get it gratified for it's not much pleasure to me to drive. It's an awful amount of bother.

It is as I told you it would be when the car came home. It is raining like Sam Hill this morning and Papa wanted me to drive him to Independence! Ain't it awful what the weather can spoil sometimes. He seems to be fairly well pleased with the purchase. So does Uncle Harry, but neither of them are very anxious to let loose of any money. Papa is starting to the big town up the hill and I have to quit in order to get this mailed. I hope to arrive in Independence Sunday afternoon if nothing busts. Please don't expect the arrival too early but I'll get there some time if I have to take the train! Send me a letter this week since I'm behind almost two. Did you get the special Mary mailed?

Sincerely, Harry

A fun letter, likely from April 1914. Harry S Truman had recently bought a second-hand automobile, made by the Stafford company in Kansas City. It was a splendid touring car, but was always a maintenance headache for Truman. But as the car helped Harry Truman get to Independence to see Miss Wallace, it was worth it!

https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/april-1914-postmark-0?documentid=NA&pagenumber=4

Dear Bess: April 26, 1933

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for April 26, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

We’d like to share a very interesting “Dear Bess” letter with you today, written 89 years ago today, April 26, 1933. At the time, Harry Truman was serving as Presiding Judge of Jackson County, Missouri. Now Truman didn’t serve as a judge as we would typically think of a judge. Rather, in essence, Truman was presiding county commissioner. And in this letter, as presiding judge, it is clear that the effects of the Great Depression were hitting county hard. So hard that the county had to lay off hundreds of employees to cut costs. That is not pleasant under any circumstance, but it was difficult for Judge Truman, for he knew many of these employees personally. In 1934, Truman made his first run for United States Senator. How many of those laid off employees voted for Judge Truman for Senator? We will never know. Could you? Would you?

He also makes reference to “George.” He is referring to his brother in law George Wallace, the brother of Bess Wallace Truman. George Wallace and his lovely wife May lived in a charming bungalow home behind 219 North Delaware Street. Today, that bungalow is part of this National Park unit, and contains offices and workspace for the Park Ranger staff, and is maintained as part of the managed cultural landscape.

Here's the letter.

Independence, Mo. Thursday, April 26, 1933

Dear Bess:

I got a letter yesterday from you and it made the day livable and much brighter. It was necessary to make arrangements to discharge some two hundred people from the payroll and it was some job. If you don't think I had a headache when it was over you are mistaken. Then I expect to get the panning of my lifetime for not doing more of it.

I am glad you went to see the destroyer. It was a boat like that I rode on from Duluth to Chicago with the Naval Reserve. They are not as nice to ride on as the George Washington. It is a wonder Margaret would go where all those big guns are.

George went to work Monday and seems to like his job fine. He is looking fine. They were up for dinner last night. The old town clock is going full tilt now and keeping proper time.

I am hoping to get down there sooner than I expected although they have slated me for a talk on the radio for May 20th. The weather up here is still cold. I have my overcoat this morning. Tell Margaret I am sending her another funny paper from Mr. Cleveland. Fred sent her one Sunday I think. Please write as often as you can. Tell Kickie hello and kiss my baby.

Harry.

In this letter from 1933, Judge (Commissioner) Truman writes about an anguishing task he had to do...lay off over two hundred employees from the Jackson County, Missouri, government payroll. He had to do this as the effects of the Great Depression was hitting the region hard.

https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-truman-1921-1959/april-26-1933

Dear Bess: April 29, 1912

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess, Dear Harry podcast for April 29, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

A charming letter for you today, written by Harry S Truman, farmer, on this date in 1912.

Harry Truman certainly loved writing letters, particularly to that beautiful blonde, blue-eyed young lady in Independence he had met in 1890. In these letters to her, he opens his heart in a most wonderful way. Truman writes about his family, some business affairs on and near the farm in Grandview, and discusses some literature he and Miss Bess Wallace were reading. The story of the axle grease is absolutely charming. How blessed we are to have these letters!

Here's the letter, written 110 years ago today.

Grandview, Mo. April 29, 1912

Dear Bess:

Your letter came yesterday but I was so all fired lazy I didn't answer it. Do you know those ornery cousins of mine came out Saturday morning and went back Saturday evening, after I'd already made arrangements with the hired man so I couldn't leave Sunday. Wasn't that the height of pure cussedness? I guess they had a good excuse though. Aunt Ella was sick. We had a barbecue and land auction at Grandview Saturday and I had to stay home and work. Doesn't that sound unusual? So I didn't get to see the girls at all. I was just about to finish sowing clover seed and as all indications pointed to rain I couldn't stop. I finished at five-o'clock-115 acres, which means that I probably rode 120 miles on the drill. If you'd only prayed a little harder Thursday, I'd have got off but as it was it only stopped me an hour. Now I'm done and will have to go to plowing. It takes a deluge to stop a plow so I guess I'll have to wait until Sunday. This time Mr. hired man stays if all the relations in the county choose to come. There were about a thousand people at Grandview Saturday. Everybody and his brother was present. If he didn't happen to have a brother, he brought his mother-in-law. That what mine did. (My brother.) Mr. Davidson's feed was the most scrumptious affair you ever saw. He had roast cow and several roast hogs with salad and pie and all the trimmings for the whole bunch. He paid $10,000 for ten acres and got $16,500 for it. Probably made $3,000 clear in a month. Wish I could coin money at that rate. You know he made $3,000 on Jost's election.

This letter is a sort of "continued in our next." I started it at noon, then went and plowed a half day, and now I hope to finish it if Mary doesn't announce supper too quickly. I raked all the hide off the end of my left thumb this afternoon while trying to punch a hole in a strap. It wasn't my Sunday knife, so you needn't be afraid to use the one I carry on holidays. You have no idea how very inconvenient it is to try to wash your face with one hand, especially if that one is the wrong one. I did mine as Tom Sawyer did his-gave it a lick and promised it a better one Sunday maybe. Won't I be pretty by then? I'll come down and let you see how I look if you will be at home. I'll stop at a barber shop on the way though and except for an immense amount of sunburn I'll be as usual. I got axle grease all over my nose this morning. That was before I scratched my thumb and also before dinner so I got it washed off. You've no notion how big my nose is until you see it blacked. I was greasing a plow and got a gob of grease on my glove and for some unknown reason immediately smeared it on the side of my nose. I guess I was trying brush off a freckle. I 'm trying to erase it from the side I did a good job and plastered the whole thing. You'd think that would take a whole bucket of grease but just the little bit I had on my glove was entirely sufficient.

This stationary is a box Mary bought me Saturday so you see I don't have to use a tablet. Though I have one I use on my cousins and my aunts. I hope you and Mary had a good time on the chaperon job. I suppose the reason they take you two is because they don't need any, isn't it?

"The Jingo" is a story with a brazen moral I guess, and like The Squirrel Cage, won't be fit to read in a few numbers. Did you read the article on Getting up Pinafore in Everybody's? It's a killer. Please send me a letter for this, and may I come Sunday and also May 19 to hear the Bishop and a few other times if I get a chance?

Sincerely, Harry

A charming letter written 110 years ago today! Harry S Truman, farmer, writes about his family, some business, and about some literature he is sharing with Miss Bess Wallace in Independence.

A digital copy can be found here: https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/april-29-1912

Dear Bess: May 5, 1914 (postmarked)

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess, Dear Harry podcast for May 5, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

An intriguing letter for you today, postmarked on this date in 1914, likely written the day before. In this letter, Harry S Truman, farmer, describes some life and work on the family farm. He also talks about an opportunity to invest in some land speculation. Truman was keen on improving his situation, if only to show himself worthy to Miss Bess Wallace and, likely, her mother. Most guys do that…we want to make sure that we are worthy. He was determined to win Miss Wallace’s heart.

Here's the letter.

Postmarked May 5, 1914

Grandview Dear Bess: I am going to get your letter off on time even if I am a sleepyhead this evening. I have to go to the city in the morning after the hired man's daughter and I know very well I won't get a chance to do another thing. I almost did a day's work today! Put away all the meat. We have ten hams and three shoulders and some bacon. Here's hoping it lasts till hogs are ripe again, because gasoline is spot cash.

I got home before the rain and only thirty minutes after Mary did. It was just ten minutes after twelve when I came into the front gate. It rained like the mischief at about 12:45. If I'd had to take the K.C.S. I'd have gotten soaked. It will be an awful comedown if that old machine ever refuses to go. I don't know how I could manage to walk from Grandview. The tires are standing up fine. (I have my hand on wood.)

Almost I went to Montana tomorrow. Mr. Hall is going and was very anxious for me to go. But on account of our picnic Saturday and for reasons of expense I have decided not to go until two weeks from today. My claim doesn't come up until June 3, and I don't want to pay over two weeks' board if it can be helped. I haven't much hope of getting a good claim. I've heard a lot of adverse criticism on Ft. Peck in the last month. I'm not going to be bluffed out by conversation though. I'll have to be shown. I think every real estate man in Montana has written me a letter to offer his services in locating me—for fifty dollars. They are very liberal and they all know every foot of the reservation. You know it is only fifty miles by a hundred, and there are only 1,200,000 acres to be homesteaded. So, you see, these men are exceptionally bright and capable and their services ought to be cheap at the price. Think of holding a platte of Jackson County in your head. Ft. Peck is some six times as big. I doubt very much whether it can be done. Anyway I'm not going to part with my fifty dollars until I'm absolutely certain it's a safe proposition. I've an idea that a person will have as good luck just to shut his eyes and put his finger down on the map. One of our hired men (the other one) is off on a toot. He's been gone since Saturday. He's drawn all that's coming to him too. Also it's all he'll ever draw I guess. No boozers for mine. Our hand of help is almost equal to Luke. First one and then the other has a tantrum. No man that's any good would be a farmhand, though, so it's not to be expected that good ones can be found. One good thing, they are plentiful and are not hard to break in.

The paper said this morning that the land was at $10,000,000.00. So there must be about fifteen poor men in it or a hundred and five I don't know which. They're out to land the Shrine Convention for Frisco in 1915. They're welcome to it as far as I'm concerned. I know that if I had $57,000.00 I wouldn't spend it to get a Shrine Convention.

Papa is very much put out at the defection of this second hired man. He was so very pleased with him that he'd take his advice in preference to mine. I've had a good time rubbing him the wrong way all day. I've told him two or three times to wait till Charlie comes and ask his advice. He finally got so mad that I fear Charlie would have gotten his head smashed if he'd shown up at all.

Our picnic is not injured by the rain. If there is not any more after today the roads will still be fine. Anyway if we can't do anything else we'll go as far as we can and have a picnic any way. Uncle Harrison says it's bound to rain two more days this week because it rained on Monday. Lets hope it sprinkles on Tuesday and Wednesday and satisfies the supersition [sic] anyway. You know it might be so perverse as to wait until Friday night to satisfy it and then put in two days hand running.

I shall look for a letter early this week as there's not much chance of my getting in. I'll have to work! (Maybe!) Please send the letter anyway.

Sincerely, Harry

This is a nifty letter from May 4/5, 1914. Harry Truman, farmer, describes more work on the family farm in Grandview, talks about the trouble with hired hands, and describes an opportunity he has to make some money. He is trying to make himself worthy in the eyes of Miss Wallace and her family.

You can see a copy here: https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/may-5-1914-postmark?documentid=NA&pagenumber=6

Dear Bess: May 12 1912

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for May 12, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

An interesting letter for you today, written exactly 110 years ago. In this letter to Bess Wallace, Harry Truman describes some hijinks with family and friends. But the most intriguing part of the letter is found in the second half, when Truman describes an ongoing court case his family is embroiled in.

When Harry Truman’s maternal grandmother, Mrs. Harriet Louisa Gregg Young, died, she left the bulk of her estate to the Truman family, meaning John Anderson, Martha and Harry Truman. This caused a rift in the family that took a while to settle out of court. This came at great expense to the Trumans, in terms of money and hard feelings in the family. One ripple effect lasted for decades. To pay the expenses of the suit, Martha Truman had to take out repeated mortgages on the family farm. Eventually the mortgages became too large to overcome, and in 1940, while Harry Truman was running for reelection for the United States Senate, the Truman Family lost the Farm Home. It took the family over five years to get it back. By then, her son had ascended from being Vice President to President of the United States. But “Mamma” Truman never lived in the Farm Home ever again.

Here's the letter.

Grandview, Mo. May 12, 1912

Dear Bess:

I got your letter this morning and was very glad. As I have to go to the burg after Mary this evening to bring her from church, I will try to write you one and mail it as I go up. The reason you got the other one in such good time is I gave it to Uncle Harrison and he mailed it in town. I gave it to him so those ornery girls couldn't see it. They led me a dog's life while they were here. I guess I about kept even though. I caused Aileen to take a header in the yard and get her shine spoiled and her dress muddy. Grace upset a glass of milk at the table while trying to put butter on my face, which I had smeared on her arm. We told her she'd have to stay over Monday and do a day's washing, but her beau was coming Friday so she had to go home that evening. Aileen said she was going to send her dress to the cleaner's and the bill to me and that I could set ‘em up to a shine the very first time she caught me downtown.

They played their stunt Thursday evening. Two Grandview girls came down to call and find out who was here. When they came in Grace and I happened to be at the piano trying to sing the words to "I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls" in the front of the libretto and play the music in the back. We found it couldn't be done and were being roasted by Mary and Aileen for creating a disturbance when these girls came. Mary didn't introduce Grace as Miss Waggoner from Independence, but the frying pan she gave me was hanging up in the parlor-and Mamma made an unintentional break by saying it was too small for Grace and me to fry eggs in. She said she meant it because Grace gave me the pan. Those hens took it the other way and I blushed like a school girl at a play party. Aileen had been reading a story in Ladies Home Journal called the "Twenty-four of June" and she and Mary kept up a conversation on the subject until those girls had it all figured out that Grace's amethyst (How do you spell it?) ring was a present from me-and the next twenty-fourth of June, the day. I was so mad I could have busted open. I had to take them home. When they went to leave, one of them said she guessed these girls must be the cousins I went to see in Independence. The girls never said anything only just yelled and laughed, which was all the evidence they wanted. My strong denial only made them surer. I told them going home that Grace's father was a paint manufacturer in K.C. and she was only a friend of Mary's but they only asked if amethysts were her birthstone. I could only say yes because Grace's birthday is in February too. They think they're awful smart. Let them have their good time. I'll get even with the whole bunch, Grandviewites and all. You needn't be afraid of meeting them because if you do they'll only get more thoroughly balled up. They seem to take more interest in attending to my business than in anybody's around here.

I saw Earl Defon Wallingford up town this morning. She said to tell "Bessie hello when you see her." I guess my dear cousins weren't so mum as they pretended they were.

I am very glad George could decipher that note. It wasn't loaded with dynamite. I guess I must have unintentionally handed him a hunch and he did not want you to see it. I told him I could think of bushels of hot air but I supposed he knew it all anyway (the hot air). That I guess is the reason he won't let you see it. You mustn't tell I told you.

My Uncle accomplished his errand and if there's not a slip between now and Tuesday we will probably be able to bring up our case and dispose of it. I hope so because when you pay a lawyer $100 a month and court costs and trip costs it certainly bends your finances badly when they are limited anyway. Mary Colgan called Mary up and told her not to let me make a date for Saturday May 18 as she is going to have a party. She called on last Monday. I told Mary to tell her to have her party on some other day-I couldn't possibly come because I was going to another one. She nearly bit the phone in two. I don't care. I'd rather see Manon (that's the worst one I can think of) with you than go to two of her parties, and I know that Margaret has Manon as badly beaten as Mark has Geo. Eliot. Well, you see I told you about the stunt. Of course it is my point of view, but Mary's or Aileen's couldn't be much different I don't think. You know people see what they want to see.

I guess you are glad that Frank didn't take that grounded boat. I hope he arrives safely. I'd like to see what a card mailed on the high seas looks like.

Please send me a letter and I wish tomorrow were the eighteenth. I'll get done planting corn on Thursday at noon if it doesn't rain, and will be my own boss Saturday at noon so pray for clear weather this time.

Sincerely, Harry

A fun letter. There had been some hijinks in the Truman Farm Home in Grandview, and Harry Truman describes them beautifully in this letter to Bess Wallace.

Truman also makes reference to the litigation that was still ongoing between his family and the other children of his grandmother, Harriet Louisa Young. This process played out over the next decade.

https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/may-12-1912

Dear Bess: May 19, 1913 (postmarked)

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for May 19, 1922, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

A sweet and fun letter for you today, postmarked on this date in 1913. The Truman’s home on the family farm in Grandview could be a busy place. Not only were Harry Truman, his sister and his parents living there, there were farm hands coming and going. This sometimes led to privacy challenges to the residents, as you hear early in the letter. Uncle Harrison Truman, for whom his soon-to-be-famous nephew was named, makes an appearance, and those appearances are always welcome.

But, as always, Harry Truman is trying to impress and show his affection for Miss Bess Wallace in Independence. It was his most important campaign.

Here’s the letter.

Grandview, ( postmarked May 19, 1913 ) Dear Bess:

How do you appreciate my ability as a weather prophet? We had a small rain out here this morning. I hope you had none and that we'll have more.

I started this letter before breakfast and had to quit because there were so many congregated around the desk to see what I was about. We have the freshest hired man that ever hopped a clod. He has to know where every letter comes from and to whom every one goes. I informed him that I was writing a business letter and it was none of his affair where it went. He immediately got the Sunday Post and said he would peruse the personal column and see if he couldn't find a reason for a business correspondence. He found one which said a rich widow desired to hear from a bachelor of some means, object matrimony. I suppose he is going to investigate. I told him he was no bachelor; he's only twenty-one – a perfect infant. He thinks he's older than I am. I told him I was forty-two my last birthday. He had to go to work with a post auger this morning.

I am sorry the picnic note didn't arrive, but I shall look forward to another one later. Uncle Harry pulled out this morning. He's going to Monegaw Springs in the morning. He says they have the finest set of hillbillies in America down there. They give a formal dance every Wednesday evening during the summer. Full dress consists of a hickory shirt and blue overalls for the men, and red calico dresses for the ladies. They must have a good time. He said he showed them how to dance the pigeon wing and crawfish wire, evidently two very complicated steps if names count for anything. I have an idea that he would make a better instructor in poker and seven-up than in dancing. He's too pigeon-toed to dance. It is all he can do to walk without getting tangled up.

I am going to Harrisonville today and Wednesday night too if nothing happens here at home and it will keep on raining. It looks very much like we were going to have a trash mover. I suppose you and the Southern girls will have another party if it rains. You ought to have played tennis yesterday afternoon. It was an ideal day for it. You couldn't possibly have gotten too warm at it. Mamma has a broom just raising sand in here. I never saw anyone but Aunt Sallie who takes any more pleasure in creating a disturbance with a broom than Mamma. The coldest day in winter she'll raise all the windows, get a broom and a dust rag, and just be perfectly blissful while the rest of us freeze. Whenever the dog and cat see her coming with a broom they at once begin hunting means of exit. They know by sore experience that Mamma's broom is a poor implement to get in front of. When eating time comes though they forget the broom as well as the rest of us do.

Please now you owe me a letter if you'll let the stationery count for one. Do you approve of Electric Park? If you do we'll go out when the weather gets warm enough. Mary saved me a dish of strawberries. I can't imagine what she wants, a new dress or hat I bet. See you Sunday if not sooner?

Most sincerely, Harry

A fun letter today. Some interesting insights into the crowded house on the Truman farm. Uncle Harrison Truman makes a fun appearance, as does Mamma (Mrs. Martha Ellen) and Mary Jane Truman.

You can see a digital of the original here: https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/may-19-1913-postmark

Dear Bess: May 23, 1911

Transcript

Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for May 23, 2022, brought to you by Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.

We would like to share a fascinating letter with you today, written by Harry S Truman to Bess Wallace on this date in 1911. If the December 31, 1910, letter is indeed the first “Dear Bess” letter, then this letter is from the first six months of the courtship. Truman’s cousin Ethel Noland makes a brief appearance, as do Truman’s sister, Mary Jane, and his brother, John Vivian. Family dynamics and a discussion about literature make this letter a treasure. At the time this was written, Harry Truman was still dealing with a broken leg, which was problematic for a farmer. Who would do his work? Less productivity can result in less income.

Note at the end of the letter Truman makes reference to a telephone. The Truman farm home has no electricity in 1911, but there was a telephone, with a party line. While these letters were a primary communication tool, we know that Bess Wallace and Harry Truman spoke by phone too. If only we knew more about what they spoke about.

Here’s the letter.

Grandview, Mo. May 23, 1911

Dear Bessie: I guess there is nothing for me to do but wait until I am able and then remove Ethel's wig. I sure thought I was consigning your book and Life to a safe messenger when I gave them to her. Vivian hasn't said a word about them to me. I shall corner him tonight. I have an idea a certain lady friend of his could tell me where they are if he doesn't. I shall try and make reparation for the book anyway if it doesn't eventually reach you.

I have enjoyed Nicanar immensely. I suppose it depicts Norman life realistically but I like for them to be more cheerful about it. I am going to read the book again. I found out the name of a Roman Emperor that history never says anything about in it. He really existed too. You see I haven't anything to do but run down historic rumors, and every book I read since I have been laid up that mentions anyone at all in history I never heard of causes me to look him up. I always forget him five minutes afterwards but I have the satisfaction of knowing [who] he was anyway.

I really wish Rex Beach would do something with that Ne'er-Do-Well and be done with it. It makes you feel like the end of the year instead of the middle the way he draws it out. I've an idea the poor boy'll lose his job now and his girl and then have a love feast with her old man, come back and get the girl and the Pennsylvania Railroad and live happily until alimony time. What do you think?

Mary's (mine also) cousin in Texas sent her two horned toads in a box by mail the other day. She thought it was a box of pills. It was all wrapped up and very small. You ought to have heard her squawk when she opened the box. You know they have tails and horns on their heads (their tails are not on their heads) and are furious looking little brutes, but are harmless. They feast on flies, ants, etc. I don't see how these two lived for the box was air-tight.

Mary and Vivian went to the Ruskin High School Commencement Thursday night. Said it was fine.

I guess they are all fine the first few times but when very many pass they get old don't you think? They sure must be getting nifty in Independence if the ushers wanted to wear claw hammer coats. That's spreading things thick. The Kansas City Post has offered ten dollars for the prettiest graduation dress not to cost over five dollars. Do you suppose one can be made for that?

That rain was the finest thing this year. If it hadn't come we would have gone to the wall sure enough. Now we expect to raise something anyway. I hate rainy days generally but these last ones sure looked good to me.

I have an illustration of what happens to people who set grocery store eggs. I am enclosing it. Did any of yours come out that way? Literature, etc., do not go very well with poultry, do they? One good gang of poultry does more for the country though than all the art Charles Yerkes could buy. You know I think a man artist or pianist is the last thing on earth. They do no good for themselves or anyone else. I never did see one who paid his debts if there was any way to avoid it. That shows his artistic temperament, that, a lot of long hair and a kangaroo walk. Sometimes they go dingy or get two or three divorces. That also is a temperamental sign. Some French artist says that geniuses are insane anyway. I guess he is right in some cases anyway. It is all right to be an artist or pianist if you are a real genius like Lhevinne or Hofmann or Turner or Whistler, but the ordinary run of everyday artists and pianists who imitate these men won't do.

I really thought once I'd be an ivory tickler but I am glad my money ran out before I got too far. Who knows, maybe I"ll be a Cincinnatus and be elected constable someday.

If you had called up the other day I'd have made it to the phone some way. I can get around the house to some extent. Soon as ever I can persuade the M.D. to take the cast off I'll do fine. I hope you'll consider this worthy an answer. I'd like to see [illegible] Smith. I bet it's fine. This is the end of my stationery.

Sincerely, Harry

In this letter from May, 1911, Harry Truman and Bess Wallace were still in the early months of their courtship. Many family members make an appearance. Harry Truman was recovering from a broken leg, so these letters to Miss Wallace were another source of therapy for him. It's interesting to read his insights on piano players.

A copy of the original can be seen here: https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/truman-papers/correspondence-harry-s-truman-bess-wallace-1910-1919/may-23-1911

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