Dear Bess: February 11, 1913 (postmarked)
Transcript
Welcome to the Dear Bess/ Dear Harry podcast for February 11, 2022, from Harry S Truman National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service.
We have a great letter for you today, postmarked on this date, February 11, in 1913. If you ever need proof that Harry S Truman was ever completely head over heels in love with Bess Wallace, the first few lines of this letter will suffice. It’s wonderful, too, to hear Truman refer to his father, John. John A Truman was a much respected livestock trader, with a good reputation in Grandview, Independence, Kansas City, and elsewhere. It’s unfortunate that John Truman, who died in late 1914, didn’t live to see the successful adults his children became, including one President of the United States.
Here’s the letter.
Postmark February 11, 1913 Grandview Feb. 10, 1913
Dear Bess: You have succeeded in enlarging the size of my hat. The idea of anyone, especially you, ever wanting to decorate my striking likeness with a silver frame has almost made me unable to contain myself with any degree of satisfaction. I even smiled when Mary informed me we were out of water at 6:30 P.M. after a hard day's work too. You know it is necessary for us to haul water a half mile. Also it was dark at six-thirty this evening. I had to hitch up a horse to get that water and eat supper all alone. I can only attribute my good humor to that request. Hang the chaperon. She generally (he I should say) doesn't know straight up about common sense. She (he) can write piffle about how may fingers to stick out when you eat salad and if it's proper to eat pie ala mode with a spoon when ice cream is slushy but for good sense she (he) is no authority. You may be sure I'd never have the effrontery to offer my photo to you because that, it seems to me, would be a case of rank egotism. You want one, you ask for it, you swell my head, make me feel good which is a good deed anyway Q.E.D. Hang the chaperone. I have had a very strenuous day my reason factory is not very good, but you'll get that tintype if I have to bust one dozen cameras. A silver frame! I can't live it down. Now don't forget I want yours worse than ever.
My dad arrived with his two loads of cows last night at seven o'clock. Mamma said he was on his ear in proper fashion when I wasn't there to meet him. He called me in the morning from Lowry City, and the K.C. central had to repeat the message, and instead of leaving that town at 5:00 P.M. he left at noon. She called at twelve o'clock and five o'clock. I'm glad she did. There was no harm done and I spent the evening where I wanted to. We have more old cows now than you have chickens I guess. Fifty-two new ones and thirty we already had. It sounds like the stockyards on a busy day. Of course there are some calves and the cows have more trouble sorting out their proper calves than the people did their babies after the Virginian's mixing them up. Instead of being two hours night and morning tending to the cows it is now twelve hours all day. I am of the opinion it will grow pretty old before grass comes. Anyway Papa is very happy he can get up at unearthly hours and cipher around with a lantern and stay out at night long enough to use one. He would rather yell at a cow than eat a meal. I would rather eat. His being away from home has caused me to get in bad with the W.C.T.U. The mayor of Grandview arrested the saloon man for selling whiskey. He asked me to go his bond to keep him out of jail. I went it same as I'd go a preacher's if he asked me to. This man's a pretty good fellow only he sells booze. I don't suppose it would have done him any good to stay in jail and I'm sure he likes me better. The only ones who will have it in for me are the "backyarders" as Uncle Harrison calls the North Carolinians. I'm not hankerin' for their friendship anyway. They yell temperance and want to lynch a saloon man but they'll go to the city and get gloriously stewed. I told them if they wanted really to shut up the saloon to do as I do and drink no booze, then the saloon man would have to get a pick and shovel and go to work.
I am going to send for Mr. Faversham's tickets for Thursday evening of the week he's here. Will that suit you? We have a man from St. Claire County here. He came home with Papa. It is my duty to show him K.C. tomorrow. Do you envy me my job? I don't. He's a fine man and I like him but I'd rather do something else. He's never been to K.C. and I don't know what to show him except Emery, Bird, Thayer's Eleventh Street entrance and the Shubert (from the outside). Maybe he'll get down to the stockyards and be so interested we can spend the day there. Let's hope so.
You owe me a letter. Also may I come Sunday as usual? Wait till we sell a cow and I'll get you that tintype.
Most sincerely, Harry
Another fun letter for you today. Miss Wallace wants to frame Mr. Truman's picture! In a silver frame!
And always nice to hear a little bit about Harry Truman's father, John. He died too soon, and too young.