Summer Vacation: Linda at home; no letters.
Linda and her mother, Dorothy, work in the school office for several weeks during the summer to help defray tuition.
There are some letters missing during the work time and the first weeks of the 53/54 school year. If we find them, we’ll stick ‘em in.
Onward and upward…
October 3, 1953
Three fifteen Friday afternoon, a very hot day. I’ve done about all the work I can do well today; anything beyond this would probably have to be done over on Monday anyway, so why not write to Linda? Nothing on my mind, beyond being a little sleepy. Time out for a minute, I want to check with Ken Harris about a tennis racquet for you.
(asterisks indicate time lapse)
I’ve got the dope; we’ll see what we can do about a racquet this weekend. As you know, Ken is a fine, if vitriolic, tennis player. He knows most of the good players and sees all of the top local matches and tournaments. He gave me the names of several good frames and suggested that they be strung in nylon-twist, instead of gut, has just as much spring and is much more durable. He told me where to go, too: a little tennis store at the North Vermont courts in Griffith Park, just north of Los Feliz, about a half mile from where Herb Young lives. I believe you are very wise to take up tennis. It is a game you can enjoy all your life, is a fine social pastime that girls and boys can do together and is excellent exercise, developing long smooth muscles like swimming muscles and riding muscles. I hope you like it.
Speak of riding muscles, I’m trying to lure Donn [Harter] into riding with me. It seems he had an unfortunate experience with one of those big lantern-headed white horses they sometimes have in riding stables. The bastard scraped him off on a tree, like in “City boy” and then stepped on him, breaking his toe. Donn’s toe that is, not the horse’s. Well, Donn made the mistake of not immediately remounting and teaching that horse and himself who the boss was. So he developed a fear of horses, one he would like to overcome, so I’m going to call him up one morning, perhaps next week, without warning and take him out riding with Gene and me. That does seem to be a cardinal and important rule: If you have an accident with a horse, get the hell back in the saddle. And quick.
I’m going to let this letter simmer until Monday. Ah’m getting’ too sleepy to consecrate or concentrate rather…Have a nice weekend…
We spent the weekend thus: party at Harters Saturday night, Gene [Poddany] and Luby [Shutorev] were there, looking very well. Luby is heavier and looks swell. They send their love. Sunday we drove with the Harters (as if you didn’t know) to visit the Hamners and then to Nana’s for dinner. We drove out on Palos Verdes to see that beautiful new glass church at Portuguese Bend, a magnificent, truly beautiful building, almost enough to draw me to church. Not quite, though. We received two letters from you, very fat, very grateful. I love you and I’d better get this letter away
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Chuck xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thy sire xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx