2270 South Vine
Come with me as I meet my Mother through this series of letters, she died when I was 6 months old and this is my very first real glimpse into her world, who she was, who she wanted to be and how she loved my Father.
A collection of 36 letters hand written by my Mother Joyce at University of Denver and sent to my Father Earl at University of Colorado Boulder when they were first engaged in 1952. The letters span from September 1952 - January 1953. My Mother died from Breast Cancer in 1971 at the age of 40. The original language of the letters is read intact to maintain the integrity of the authenticity of her words, 1952 is a very different time culturally and economically.
2270 South Vine
Letter 2 09/24/1952 Navigating College and Friendships
Description: In this letter from September 24th, 1952, Joyce discusses her experiences with her roommates and the dynamics within the dorm. She shares her thoughts on her classes and her plans to approach her boss for a raise.
Highlights:
Roommate dynamics and dorm life. Joyce's academic pursuits and class experiences. Plans to negotiate a raise at work. Reflections on family and friendships.
Hashtags: #DormLife #RoommateDynamics #1950sLoveLetters #CollegeChallenges
September 24th, 52 on University of Denver Dormitories stationary and the phone number is SH 1951 Dear honey, this is that stationary I promised I'd write on. Jazzy, isn't it? Winnie and I are home all by ourselves since we are the only two not in sororities. The rest of the clan are at rush parties.
Did I tell you Sandy piled in the two girl room with Connie uninvited? Well, I'm afraid the battle is just about launched. Connie has been on edge and crabby as heck all day. Anne says Connie isn't friendly enough to her. Marilyn thinks the place is too dirty to live in and no one wants to help her clean it up. Winnie is very unhappy because she's got too many men she doesn't want and the one she thinks and says she's in love with won't have her. The bus last night took all the back roads and stopped at a couple of small towns to pick up mail bags. I caught a 1150 number eight bus and got out here at 1215, just before they locked the doors, luckily. I was in bed at 1230 and went right to sleep thanks to my sweetheart. This afternoon, all I did was sleep, wash and iron.
So tomorrow I'll go over and see Dr. Hatch about botany and ask Mr. Williamson about that popular and lyric form class. So far I still haven't gotten in touch with Miss Seaman. I really should have done that by phone this afternoon. I went to try to get my trunks out of dorm five, but they can't find the master key. When they dig it up, I'm going to see if the fellows who are bringing new furniture to the apartments
will pack them up in their truck and drag them over. So long for a few minutes, I have to go over to the union. That was quick. The trade at the restaurant is picking up considerably. One of these days, I'm going to approach her for a raise to 75 cents. In this morning's mail, I got a letter from mother. She says that Uncle Marcus's disposition is no worse so far anyway.
Ray's mother had to move, so Cleone and another daughter-in-law went through the attic and the basement, picking out the junk they wanted.
I can see Sniff's apartment now. Sniff is what I call my little sister. My big sister wrote me a letter too. Her letters are the most fun to read of my family and quite typical of her personality. I'll let you read a couple of them. Statistics was the course she was worried about because she didn't do many of her assignments. The louse came up with an A.
Always she does something like that. If she had been expecting an A, she wouldn't have been afraid to go back and get her paper, so she says. I guess.
I guess I owe you an apology, pet, for the length of this letter, or lack of it, rather. I usually write six to eight pages. In most all letters, I write, but it's 10, and I promised myself I'd get to bed early. Bye till Saturday, and I love you loads, sweetheart.
Love always, Joyce.
