Emma #140: Special Feature—Letters to Ruth
Letters and cards to Ruth from Emma, Estella, Miriam, and John Lohr
I found many letters written to Ruth toward the end of 1938 as she prepared for the birth of her first baby. These give a rich and intimate picture of the family, and some interesting peeks into history. Here are excerpts from several of them…and there’s a real gem at the end!
Dec. 8, 1938—Letter from Miriam to Ruth
Miriam was the wife of Ruth’s brother Gerald, who was in prison for forgery. She was living in an upstairs apartment in Mexico, MO with no running water, and raising their four children: Betty (15), Peggy (13), Jerry (10), and James Edward (7 months).
My Dear Ruth,
Have been wanting to write you for so long but as I am not working this morning I felt the urge to write. Have been trying to sew but every minute or so James Edward needed attention—has just taken his bottle, he can hold it himself and part of the time has it upside down or is flipping the nipple in and out of his mouth spraying milk all over himself and the buggy.
Have been up so much at night with him with the croup. He is much better now. Has been bathed, fed, had a nap and is sitting up in his buggy playing with a cardboard box. He thinks a bright colored box is the most wonderful plaything.
Of course he isn't spoiled. Betty and Peggy just try themselves to see who can spoil him worst. The other children are all very well. Jr. is gaining and so well since his tonsils were removed, and he brings home such good grades.
My work has been so poor lately, a month ago I didn't have work for over a week. Will be so glad when I get my dependent childrens pension, will get $54 a mo. until Betty is 16, then I'll get $42 until Peg is 16, and then $30 until Jr. is 16. Do hope I will be allowed to work too. I heard tho' that every thing I would make would be deducted from my check.
The Aid to Dependent Children program was part of the 1935 Social Security Act that was part of the New Deal. Designed to help families where fathers were deceased, absent, or unable to work. It provided $18 for the first child and $12 for each additional child.
I washed for a lady yesterday, it was so nice and warm and the clothes dried beautifully. I get 50¢ a week to do her work. Every little bit helps out, but it is so unhandy. I have to carry the water clear around the house and upstairs. Of course it all must be carried out again. Rent is so high. I pay $10 for these rooms, they need papering and are draughty and I’m supposed to pay anything over $1 on the lights, but I’m not going to pay it. I don’t have a radio and I go to bed early so I figure I don’t need to pay for their radio set.
I expect living is high in the city. Ruth Hough’s sister lives in Philadelphia, her husband is with the Norge people, says living is terribly high. She had a splendid job before she married, was supervisor of one floor of the largest children’s hospital in Philadelphia. She quit work when she married so I guess he has a real good job. While she was at the hospital, Libby Holman Reynolds had her baby there and was on Geraldine’s floor. One night the baby’s special nurse was sick and Geraldine took her place. She said it was real exciting with the police guarding both mother and baby so closely.
Libby Holman was a socialite and actress. In 1931 she married Zachary Smith Reynolds, heir to the R.J. Reynolds tobacco company. On the night of July 5, 1932, after a party, Reynolds died of a gunshot wound to the head. Libby gave birth to their child on January 10, 1933.
Mother writes that you want her to come East in February. I do hope she will be able to come. I have some things of James Edward’s I am going to send. He is outgrowing so many of his things. Be sure and have Mother make you several pair of the little crocheted booties. They are the nicest things I’ve ever had. They can’t kick them off.
Are you planning on staying home or going to a hospital? I had such a splendid doctor, a young fellow, but he surely knew his business. Graduated from Louisville, KY and interned at St. Luke’s in St. Louis. Is gaining a wide reputation as a baby doctor. His rules were so simple to follow. Eat what you want, but in small amounts so you may have a variety. Of course he didn’t recommend pies and such. Do not put on an extra pound of fat and take plenty of exercise.
According to this report, the American Society of Pediatrics, formed in 1930, reflected the growing importance of this medical specialty and the growth of knowledge about immunization, nutrition, and child development.
I started the baby on Pet Milk and he has done so well. He also gets haliver oil with viasterol. He should be getting more vegetables but as you know I have to get our store order from the relief; the vegetables we are allowed to buy are such a poor grade I’d rather not strain them and give them to him. I tried to give him Pablum but he didn’t like that.
This was an interesting curiosity trail of infant nutrition in the 1930s. Pet Milk was a brand of evaporated milk, which was widely used as an infant formula when mixed with water and sugar. And it turns out that halibut liver oil supplemented with viosterol (more information here) was marketed as a much more palatable alternative to cod-liver oil as a source of Vitamins A and D. Pablum is a processed cereal for infants that came to market in 1931.
Tomorrow is P.T.A. at Eugene Field School where Jr. goes. I have to make him a choir robe tonight. Wish I were able to go and hear the children sing carols but I can’t take the baby. I have never been in this school. It is new and is just beautiful.
Build in 1936 with New Deal funding, Eugene Field School is still in service as an elementary school in Mexico, MO.
As soon as I receive a pension I am going to St. Louis and get a small radio and a small piano, if I can find one cheap enough. The girls want one so bad. I see so many advertised from $10 up.
You will have to keep me posted when Bob sings so I can be sure and hear him. The people down stairs have a radio but they play that hill billy music until I nearly go mad. I *never* want to hear any more yodeling such as they listen to and I’m sick of Salley and Sue, but I guess it is every person to his taste. Mr. J. thinks that anyone who *chords* can *really play.*
Good bye and love to you. Miriam
Dec. 15, 1938—Note from John J. Lohr to Ruth
John was Tell’s brother-in-law, and Ruth’s uncle.
Dec. 16, 1938—Letter from Emma to Ruth
This letter was written on the back of paper from a Christmas card.
Dear Ruth:
We were glad to get your letter this A.M. We got the family letter yesterday. Am glad you are feeling and looking so well. Katharine planned to buy you a maternity dress—new kind but when she looked at them she found they cost 22.50 which was a little steep for 2 mos. wear. She had thought them only 12.50. Said she was glad she had not mentioned it to you so you would not be disappointed. But it was too lovely a thought not to mention—”sez me.”
According to this article, up until the 1950s, maternity wear was designed to conceal the expanding waistline for as long as possible. In the 1930s, wrap dresses and skirts were very popular.
We are *hoping* to have gas. I do not know. The cook stove is going bad and we will need to do something. We would have the furnace heat piped to the kitchen. Have had such better cheese since turning the cows in the stacks, so we are taking them out.
Dad has been working out all day. It is not very cold. He thinks he will never get done. He just came in—wanted to know whom I was writing to. I said “Ruth.” He said to say, “Let not your heart be troubled.” We will try to see you through if you do not make it—we have the corn to sell for the rent and there will be more than enough for that. So as Dad says, “Let not your heart be troubled.”
Time to say Good Night & I love you. Mother
Dec. 25, 1938—Letter from Emma to Ruth
Dear Ruth:
We were surprised to have Linnie and Gerrit drive in yesterday. We had a letter saying they *might* come but not to look for them till they drove in. I have been having a touch of flu this week but managed to get the house in order…about 4:30 they drove in. We were very glad for otherwise we would have spent a very lonely Christmas.
I have had many gifts. This paper came from Besse. She gave Dad a handkerchief. We were happy to get your gifts. I don’t see how you made the little basket. It is pretty and I like the knitting bag. I like the material you chose for Roberta. I like Roberta much better than Gretchen. Don’t you? Used to hear about Gretchen in the fairy tales—one of the names I didn’t like.
Katharine sent me some undies—a slip and hose—so I won’t have much to do to get ready to come. I do hate to leave Dad alone but he is anxious for me to come. I think Linnie & Gerrit will go home tomorrow.
I hope you have had a nice Christmas. If the little thimble does not fit send it back & we will exchange it. I made few gifts—sent few cards. Did not feel I could do it this year. Have not felt well enough to be out much this week. Have heard some lovely Christmas programs. I have some baby shoes made. We send lots of love.
Mother.
Dec. 30, 1938—Letter from Estella to Ruth
Robert’s sister Estella was a nurse in Fort Dodge, Iowa. She eventually became a missionary in Africa—you can see some of the foundations of this “calling” in her letter. I only ever knew her as a fairly odd old lady, so it was fun to be able to picture her as a young nurse.
Dearest Bob’n’Ruth (as you so sweetly sign your letters).
It is already Fri. eve and practically the end of 1938. I intended writing you Mon. eve—but one of our “neighbor” girls here in the Hospital chatted with me until bed time.
You know, Ev and I now live in the Hospital, in the room next to the one you were examined in, Ruth. Yes, on the O.B. floor. Quite a place for us, isn’t it, altho we do like it here very much. The only drawback is, we get no outdoor exercise in going to and from work. We are our own bosses as far as being out at night is concerned—we don’t have to account to anybody for our whereabouts, which is a relief. Don’t misunderstand, we try not to abuse this privilege, and do appreciate the confidence in our integrity shown by this change of quarters. The other girls were very jealous at first, but that has quieted down too.
I have just re-read your last 2 letters—oh, you dear kids. How I do admire your faith and pluck. I marvel at the way God does provide for you, and I know He will continue to do so. “Only trust Him.”
I see you are counting on a son, Robert. I’ll hope so, too, then—only—either son or daughter will be equally welcome, I’m sure, as God sees fit.
We have worked each night this week, & last night I worked with Mrs. Minor after choir practice, trying to get her in shape to play for me Sunday a.m. I’ve given all I could to train her, & she could do it—if only she would give just a little time & effort to organ work. She feels she has too many other things that have to be done, and last night after our work out said she believed she would have to give it up—& right now when I had planned on having a substitute to fall back on. I don’t for the life of me see how I’ll manage—for I am “on call” & not supposed to leave the building. Very few people seem to have what it takes to see something that is hard thru, I guess. This makes 3 people I have trained and each has gone back on me, after the hardest days were over. I’m leaving this problem—as all others—in God’s care, and I know it will work out someway, but I how I cannot now see.
I have had a wonderful experience tonight—Ev’s mother has been here, talking with me while she ate her supper (here in our room). A friend of hers is a patient here, expecting to leave in the A.M. for an operation at Iowa City. She sent for Mrs. Kulild, with the entreaty to help get her right with God before leaving for Ia. City. Dear Mrs. Kulild has been relating blessed experiences of the past, when she has had the privilege of being used of God in saving other souls. I had sort of planned to go home this eve, but have decided to spend my evening here quietly, & want to go to the chapel & pray for dear Mrs. Kulild, that God will give her the words to say tonight.
Well—back to Christmas. It was indeed a wonderful Christmas, following a dreadfully busy week. I had off from 8 P.M. Christmas eve until 9 P.M. Christmas night. I stayed at home Sat. eve & we all got up & went to 5:30 Christmas morning service which was simply glorious! Uncle Albert’s arrived at our house shortly after 10 A.M., and we did so enjoy them. We had “Santa Claus” before eating our dinner. We all thought your gifts so original and extra nice being you had made even those dear little dishes. Thank you so much!
Donald & Bernie sent me such a lovely motto—I must send you the words—
"My Prayer" "Dear God, another day is done, and I have seen the golden sun Swing in its arch from east to west and sink behind the pines to rest. I thank Thee that Thou gavest me the power of sight that I may see The tinted glories of thy skies, an earthly glimpse of Paradise; The power to hear the evening breeze swelling in organ harmonies; The power to feel the tender grasp of loving hands in friendship clasp. I thank thee for these gifts to me. But one thing more I ask of Thee: From out thy bounteous gracious hands give me the power to understand— To understand—to sympathize To note the pain in others' eyes; To have the power rightly to read the kindly motive of each deed."
Don’t you love it too?
I have read very little since I’ve been in training, but read “The Citadel” about a month & a half ago. You would like it very much, Ruth. And about 3 months ago I finished a fine novel in the Women’s Home Companion—“Night Must End” which would be very much worth your while in looking up the issues with that one. It is the story of 3 obstetrical patients who arrived at the hospital at the same time. Very good.
Dad got my sewing machine fixed for me for Christmas, Mother & Howard gave me candy, Ev gave me a house coat (which comes in very handy here at the hospital). Erika gave me a night dress & a pr. of hose, Aunt Minnie gave me a set of body pwd. & bath salts, as did one of the girls here at the hospital, Sister gave me some lovey perfume, and Yardley’s soap & socket pwd., and besides I received 5 lovely kerchiefs and a clinical thermometer & case (a dandy), cookies, & some home made candy from Mrs. Moeller.
Mother & Dad are both feeling good again. Home is so different without Helen & Ed, and I think they are quite contented on the farm, so Dad says.
It seems human friends & dear ones prove to be very disappointing at times—and the realization of “what a friend we have in Jesus” has been brought home to me quite forcibly of late. I am so glad you two are so happy together. I am *so* happy for you—and now in your sweet anticipation of a truly “Blessed Event”—my love for you seems to overflow. God bless each of you richly is my fervent prayer for you in our new year 1939.
Thanks for everything, & my love. Estella.
Dec. 30, 1938—Postcard from Emma to Ruth
This one is my favorite—a message written in code! I’ve put the decoded note in a footnote1 in case you want to try it yourself first. (There are a couple of “typos,” which I have fixed.)
I hope you’ve enjoyed this special edition of the Emma project. We’ll bring you her entries from January 1939 next week.
Dear Ruth, Dad says I am to come to Philadelphia soon. Fun? I’ll say. Lovingly, Mother. Lake City, Jan 30, 1938 [it’s postmarked Dec. 31, 1938]