Mom's Best Friend 1960 Letter

Darrell and Myrna Wakely 1950's

For historical and genealogical reference:

December 14, 1960

Dearest Gennie,

Well I guess it’s time I answered your letters.

It sure has been cold for the last 2 days. But then, I guess it’s nothing compared to what you are getting up North!

Jerry and Darrell are both working for a fruit packing co. Jerry going on 2 weeks and Darrell one. It seems good to not have them under foot, but I miss my babysitter.

Roy is working from 12 AM until 8 am. So he is home all day now and it’s just like a mad house. I never get my work done. I hate it.

I was so in hopes we would be in the house by xmas. But that is another dream up in smoke. He hasn't done anything since it was plastered and tiled except make five windows and fix one closet. I guess he isn't going to. I asked him today if we couldn't buy the furnace. He says, “what with?” and we really aren't that hard up. God, he is a pinch penny. I don’t blame him for not wanting to spend all he has in the bank. But I don’t see how he can take this place either.

At least he has been home every day for nearly 2 weeks. I don’t know what happened to him. But I hope it continues

Gee, xmas will soon be here and I don’t have a bit of xmas spirit. Do you? I don’t like the holidays anymore.

Well I have all my uppers out except four and I've really had a time with them. My face was black and blue. This is the second week, and I've had enough jaw bone out to make a soup!

Well anyway they are all better now and I’m not going back until after xmas, as he said I need a rest and I agree, It sure took a heck of a lot out of me.

Roy Wakely, Erie, PA 1950's

Dam, my feet are cold. Mr. Brandy and Princess are sleeping. That is good, as I could just take one and knock the other in the head. I don’t usually feel that way

I sure hope your problems are dissolving and your life will be happier. At the best, life is hard isn't it? I've already received some xmas cards. I almost feel like Scrooge. Bah Humbug!

I haven’t seen Myrna and kids since Friday but I guess they are all fine.

I've got to go to the toilet and Roy is in there. Guess he has rented it. It sure look’s funny to see him stand there with the toilet seat in his one hand and Ha Ha in the other. Then, when you want to flush the dam thing, you have to reach on the back as the handle is broke. Well I hope he freezes his hand. Then maybe he will get busy. It’s been like that for about a year. Then he wonders why I bitch.

I've just got to get me some warmer clothes.

Wanda’s daughter is in the hospital. At first they thought she had polio or a virus infection of the spine but they still don’t know what it is. She can’t walk. Well anyway I guess she is better but still can’t walk.

I guess my husband is looking at furnaces in the catalogue. I hope he buys one, as I’m mean when I’m cold. And I’m cold.

Well I can’t think of any more this time except I love you very much, and when you are unhappy so am I. Just remember that everyone has problems.

The best way is to pray, and you really get the strength to go on. I know that the Lord is up there, and I know that it has sure helped me to keep my senses in my hum drum world because when I need Him, I can just feel Him. So, I know that He will help me, and protect me. Well, anyway, it is a wonderful feeling. And without that thought, I doubt that I could stay sane, as sometimes it’s pretty rough around here.

I don’t pray for me. I pray the Lord will just comfort me and give me strength. I'd I swear I do get strength, almost like I could feel His presence, and I know I’m not worthy. But I pray to Him a lot and hope, in my feeble way, He forgives me and loves me. I've never told this to anyone. But I hope you try it. Because if I couldn't have this feeling, I’d be more lost than even you was. At best, there is very little pleasure or comfort around here so, you see, I sure need something strong to cling to.

Love always
Laura and All

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Laura Wakely is my "Godmother", always called her "Aunt" Laura
Roy Wakely is my "Godfather", always called him Uncle Roy. He had black hair
Myrna Wakely is their daughter, (first born) was blond and pin-curled my hair
Darrell Wakely is their son. He had big blue eyes and was quite tall and my brother's best friend
I was baptized in St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, NF, NY
They were not Episcopalian, but somehow that issue was avoided. If I recall correctly Aunt Laura was a Baptist.

Princess and Brandi were their dogs. They always had pets and Laura was very fond of them.

They previously lived at 812 Ross St. Erie, Pennsylvania and moved to Cocoa Beach, Merritt Island, Florida. This letter to my Mom was written there.

At this date (2012) Laura and Roy have passed away. I believe Myrna (Courtney) and Darrell still live in Florida.

I don't know who Jerry is.

What's in a good book?

Get a good book in my hands and I don't want to be bothered except to make a cup of tea, and a sandwich. You probably already know how to do that with a book in your hands, your eyes feasting on the page, if you enjoy reading as much as I do.

Reading Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, was an exercise in suspending reality. Not in the sense that it was not factual. Well written fiction can be based on fact, but does not have to be boring. Well written fiction stretches fact into fascination enough to get one's attention and be enchanted.

Bel Canto was enchanting in the same way as the main female character was enchanting. So much so, that every man in the book was in love with her, and there were more than 58 of them from my reckoning. Not counting the terrorists. I was never really sure how many terrorists there were. Though not as many as there were captives. I'm sure. One could say this is a love story of immense proportions, though quite one sided. But, this is not chick lit. There are bad guy revolutionaries with guns in this book too.

You will wonder over and over again, as I did, when the captives will overthrow their captors. But I got to the point where I didn't bother to wonder anymore with the interesting twists and turns this story held. I was captivated myself, and not willing to put the book down and walk away until .

There have been many terrorist plots over the centuries, their stories receded into history. Who doesn't like reading history? Dry history? Dates to memorize? Unpronouncable names of famous dignitaries who changed the course of history? Raise your hand. I didn't think so. Only some guy, with thick glasses, pasty skin and spends all his time in the library? I like history and I don't fit that profile, and I'm sure many others don't, too.
This story plays back in a gentler form, a part of history I've already lived, remembering the early 70's news reports from Central and South America.

Politics and intrigue often go hand in hand with well written history. And history written softly into fiction with Ann Patchett's prose is very easy to swallow, even for those looking for a good story to read who don't care about history.

Do you like Opera? No, not Oprah, the daytime TV show hostess. I mean, Opera, where "it ain't over til the fat lady sings". I don't think in today's culture many people understand Opera, like opera, or even want to hear it. Author, Ann Patchett, didn't know diddly squat about opera. so, why would she plan out a book with a main character who was a world renown opera singer?

Writer's, unless they really know their background information, must do research in order to create a believable story. That is exactly what Ann Patchett did. According to her, she fell in love with opera after her research. You don't have to like opera at all to enjoy this book. It would be the same with any incredible star, whoever that might be. Mick Jagger? Madonna? You name it. The love of the fans is what weaves all the parts of this book together, explaining the characters strengths and weakness for them. It also explains to me, why all the male characters in the book are in love with the opera singer. Did I mention that already?

The one thing I had a problem with in reading Bel Canto was the redundancy. Though she wrote with fresh words, it was still the same old fascination with the opera singer, who isn't, incidentally, the most fascinating character in the book. I found the supporting cast of characters, so to speak, much more interesting. Ann Patchett can write a well rounded character and slip it into the story like a popcycle into a child's mouth, cool, tasty, dripping with sweet and begging for more.

The thread of mystery and suspense is what kept me hooked on Ann Patchett's, Bel Canto. I read this book in a day and a half. It would have been a day, if I hadn't been interrupted. Don't ya hate when that happens?

Reading this book until 2 A.M. was totally enjoyable. I have thanked Bel Canto for the good read. Though she now sits snuggly on my shelf, she wont be there for long. I know soon, I will kiss that book good bye.

It will stay there until it magnetizes itself to someone who simply must read it. The eyes will lightly scan my book shelves. The hand will reach out, being pulled without force. The question will be asked. "What's this one about?" Before I can go into my speil, the book will be clutched and carried out the door.


Will I ever see it again? Probably not. I don't lend books. I give them away. I think we all have to let go sometime. To keep a book on a shelf for 20 years and never having it opened and read but once is my idea of a sin. That's like locking the Vintage Chrysler in the garage and never taking it out into the sunlight so others can feast their eyes. Or keeping the "good" china high up in the cupboard for a "special" occasion that never happens.

Books are published for one purpose only and that is to be read. All the energy and work it takes for an author to produce and give birth to a book, the nicest thing for us to do is to appreciate it. Unlike a movie, we get to imagine the scenes, the tone of voice, the fragrance of the wisteria on the vine, and in this case, the smell and sound of gun casings when they hit the floor.