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 13 10/28/1952 The Night Before Evolution
October 28th, 1952 — Joyce writes from Denver on the eve of a big genetics and evolution quiz, armed with her study outline but fretting over memorization. Campus life hums in the background: fraternity shakeups, pledge drama, and a visit to the Chuck Wagon café where an older man seeks an odd job for coffee. Friends squabble over shared desks, and Winnie’s birthday looms with broomstick jokes attached.
Amid lighthearted gossip and day-to-day routines, Joyce’s thoughts turn inward — remembering milestones in her relationship with Earl, from the jasmine he gave her to the Sunday in Central City when she realized she loved him. The letter is a blend of light campus chatter and deeply personal reflection, ending with her determination to keep studying and her heartfelt promise of love that will last a lifetime.
Topics Include:
- Preparing for a genetics and evolution quiz
- Fraternity impeachments and pledge trouble
- The Chuck Wagon café and an unexpected visitor
- Winnie’s birthday and broomstick humor
- Piano lessons and finances
- Dorm desk drama between friends
- Memories of love milestones — jasmine gift, Central City Sunday
- Reflections on realizing true love
October 28th, 1952 on the scratch paper. Before the evening gets to the My Darling, it says, love you and miss you very much. My Darling, tomorrow is the date that just about decides my fate in genetics and evolution. We have our quiz on EVO tomorrow, and unfortunately for me, it's sheer memorizing of the material.
I just finished making a study outlined to use in learning it all. I knew the crux of the stuff very well, but the examples and specific data I can't remember too well yet. I saw George today. I suppose Eddie told you he and Ron looked all over the house for you, in all the bars, et cetera, and couldn't find you. George says he has till Saturday.
George says he has a secret that no one is to know until Saturday. He asked me not to tell you, so I guess I can't. Eddie may have told you or George may be getting ahead of himself with the situation. Every he sees, he sees me, he leaks. every time she doesn't say time, that just says every he sees me, he looks at my ring.
So every morning before genetics, I clean it. The Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity impeached their president and vice president last night.
The story I heard from Connie, Jim was a Sigma Pi, is that it was done because they didn't get their pledges. But I have a feeling it goes deeper than that. The Theta Chi's have the rest of the year to get six more pledges or they have to go off campus. What's this place coming to?
A quite old man came into the chuck wagon this afternoon. Well, now we know the name of the restaurant. It's called the Chuck wagon and wrote a sheet and wrote on a sheet of paper that he would like an odd job for a roll and coffee or if not a glass of water. Johnny gave him a dime and he bought some coffee with it. He was sure a mess, but surprisingly enough, he could write not only legibly, but almost pretty writing.
yes. I told Johnny there was a place in Boulder he might look into. He asked if we would like to be his guests on a trip to Boulder Sunday. I told him I had no idea what you had planned, but I'd ask you Friday night when you come home. I don't especially care about going, but it's up to you, Why was, or is, I should say, George going to tell you his secret?
Maybe he's planning on joining us. Today, I finally wrote a real short note to Mother and sent it air mail so she'd get it sooner. This Saturday, I'm going to catch up on my correspondence to my sisters and girlfriends. My piano lesson is tomorrow. And I think I may do fairly well. The last lesson I had was the day you came home and I skipped work and went over to your house.
I've been reading my calendar and do you know there's only been three weekends that we haven't lain together since we started in July? What a record. It's 19 altogether. Today was supposedly inspection day, so I scrubbed and cleaned but they didn't show up. So tomorrow when the place looks like sin, somebody will show up to snoop.
Winnie and Connie are battling it out. I know how she, Winnie, feels. We have the, it says LR desks, and everybody who comes in just dumps everything they're holding on our desks and chairs. So Winnie and I just give it all a toss on another chair. But sometimes Winnie gets bitter and then the fight starts. Poor Winnie. She sure is frustrated. For days on end, the kids use her stuff and use her till she gets violent and then all hell breaks loose and we start all over again. I was reading Molly M today and some poor man wanted to know why his wife always described things as so much worse than they were. So, M.M. gave him a list of translations that are quite cute. I'll enclose them in here. We didn't, they're not in there, but I bet those would be funny. So far, this week's gone pretty swell. Work has been light and my time has stretched as far as it's needed.
I think maybe tomorrow I can take $35 to the bank, 15 of mine and 20 of mama's. I still, excuse please, still haven't paid for my piano lessons, but they are all that left. I want to have enough so if possible I will still have something to start on for third quarter. I'd like not to use all of the $300 too if I can get by alright. Winnie's birthday is Thursday. I hope I remember to buy her a card. She was born just before midnight. Her aunt told her she was born on a broomstick and never got off my aching back. This is the last sheet of this paper. Gads, where did the stuff go? Is it okay if I get some more like it to write to you, or do you want some figured stationery for a change? If tomorrow and Thursday go as fast as yesterday and today have gone, I think I'll live till Friday, sweetheart. And Monday mornings the week seems to stretch out ahead of me like time unending.
I guess it's cause on Monday I still feel like I do when we say goodbye and I see you disappear on Sunday night. I guess I'm in a mood for memories tonight. Isn't it strange how guilty I felt about going to your house? I guess I felt that since I wasn't serious about you, it wasn't fair to your family for me to be barging over on Sundays and I could have
cried when you gave me the jasmine. No one ever gave me anything before unless it was at Christmas time or on my birthday. I was so tickled with it. I showed it to all the kids and mother raper. And I remember the time you said you wished you could ask me to promise never to love you. Never to say love you. No way. When you can.
And I remember the time you said you wished you could ask me to promise never to leave you, but it was too early to say you promised if it was ever broken. I was thrilled that night too, because no one ever wanted me that much before. I think I began to wonder how I really felt about you that night, but I really began to love you the Sunday I played in Central City.
Then one day I realized all at once that I'd found someone to love and honor and trust and cherish to my dying day. Someone so closely filled the image, who so closely filled the image and had built of the man, so closely filled the image, I had built of the man I wanted to love and someone who loved and cherished me in return, which is the greatest feeling a person can have.
Sweetheart, it's 1030 and I want to study evolution. So good night and all my love and kisses are yours forever. Always. I love you, Joyce.
