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Dad crossed out that last part pretty good, but it can still be read it through the scribbles.  Probably best not to go around comparing who feels more lonely.  The picture is one that was included in the letter.  And no, I haven’t a clue what kind of name Cheathan is, but I swear that’s exactly what it looks like he wrote.

Postmark August 10th, 1967. Denver, Colorado.

Tues eve.

Hi Fuzz,

Well, I got a job, but I decided not to take it… yet anyway. If I did I wouldn’t have been able to make it back for Labor Day. When I found that out it didn’t sound nearly as attractive. A guy I talked to said there were nearly always positions open so if I decided to take it later I could – after L.D. weekend. It was as a salesman at a Phillips 66 Store and Station. No grub work. Guaranteed salary plus commission. Not too bad a deal except for working holidays. Maybe later.

What I want now is something for a couple of weeks until I hear from IBM and Neodata. That kind of job is harder to find than permanent work. If nothing turns up tomorrow morn. I’m going to do some bailing for a farmer north of Denver to earn a few bucks. Oh yeah, I got paid from Collins today so I got a few bucks in my pocket again. Spent a lot today, too. Gas, food, etc. Then Bob and I went up to Boulder to a show. It’s really idiotic to go running up there when the same show is on at a theater about 10 min. drive from here. It’s good to get out of the city though. We went to “Up the Down Staircase.” Pretty good.

We haven’t been able to find the manager all day, so we don’t know if we got any mail yet. If I have a letter from you sitting there and I can’t get it I just might clobber someone. She’s probably out drunk in some bar or something.

Well, it’s late. More tomorrow. Love you very much. Good night – smack – more tomorrow.

J.


Wed. morn.

Hi beautiful – I’m back.

Guess what – we had an earthquake this morning. It was a good one too. Nearly rolled me out of bed. Not quite that bad, but the glasses and lights were bouncing all over the place. On the radio they said it was felt over 100 miles away. Some property damage but no one hurt as far as I’ve heard.

I got a letter from the folks today complaining that I haven’t written enough (a postcard and a letter to them and a letter to Brenda) so I wrote a quick one to them this morning so they’d get it before they went on vacation. Now is when I ought to come back – then you and I could move into our house for a week. I think I’d kind of like that, yeah!

I found out why we couldn’t find a manager yesterday. She and her husband skipped town. You meet the nicest people in Denver!


Wed. eve.

Just got back from picking Bob up. He’s in a very quiet philosophical mood so he’s writing a book to Ruth. I think he’s found out that taking off this way isn’t the big lark he expected it to be. I’ll bet if I suggested we head back home tonite he’d be ready to go in two minutes flat. So would I for that matter, but at least I’ve got some good opportunities open to me that he won’t have for 2 months yet. I really doubt that he’ll stick it out that long.

I called the folks this evening, collect. Must have talked for 10 minutes. Good to talk to them. Mom’s having back trouble though. My cousin is getting married on the 19th and wanted Dex and I to be ushers. Wish I could make it back for a few days but I told the folks I couldn’t. So she’ll have to find someone else, I guess. That’s one of my cousins from Irene, by the way, not the one who will be here this weekend.

I was just talking to Bob. He’s not at all sure he’s going to be back Labor Day, back to Denver that is. We’re going to talk this thing over tonite. The way it sounds I may be coming back here alone after Labor Day. If I got a good job, of course. Bob is so hung up on Ruth he just can’t stay away. If he only knew how I felt! Maybe I’m just too stubborn to give up so easy. I just feel that if I’m not going to go to school like my folks want me to then I’ve got to make it on my own. I’m going to make it, too, if it kills me.

You said something in your letter about not being able to tell me all these little things like you used to. Sure you can! I miss all the little things too and hope you’ll write anything you want. Of course it won’t be the same as if we were together but I’d like it anyway. Besides – you still have to tell me how Cheathan’s going away party went – and that pint of vodka. Things like that and your “skinny dippin” are what I like to hear, plus those three beautiful words “I love you.” Especially those three words. Hope you can always say that like I’ll always be able to. I love you.

Hey, you still have to send me that picture of you I took in your old beast. Send it! Now! Immediately! OK? I still don’t have my 25 pictures. You’re falling behind. And if you want to make it 50 that will still be fine with me. I love you, and if I can’t be with you I want all the pictures I can get. Sometimes I just sit and stare at your pictures for hours on end, and they’re getting wore out from use.

Well – Bob’s in a hurry to mail these letters so best I sign off – I love you and miss you very much – and you think you’re lonely?

Love,

J.

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Jeff and Rita on her 17th Birthday

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