November 5, 1933 - Sunday

George darling,

This letter and the one I wrote yesterday I’m afraid are very messy and hard to read but I have to use what materials I can get when I am not at home. Alice was very embarrassed yesterday ship’s stationary was all that she had to offer me. She said that she was just out of stationary but she hadn’t gotten any more yet because her birthday is coming in a few days and she hoped she would get some then.

Nothing happened this morning and when I left Vallejo that was particularly interesting. Jack had left the house when I woke up. He was on duty today so I didn’t see him again. Alice and I had breakfast late and then I left on the bus that leaves Vallejo at about 12:30. Jack sent Steve a message that I was going to be in Berkeley until Monday or Tuesday because I tho’t it would be fun to see him as long as I was down here. I told Alice and Jack about you. I particularly told Jack (not just out of a clear sky but in conversation and in answer to his questioning) because I tho’t as long as he is such a close friend of Steve’s and they are both going to be stationed in San Diego and will doubtless see a lot of each other. So I tho’t he would make Steve realize the situation. He and Alice both said that they had sort of hoped that I would join the Navy one of these days. Jack noticed my badge and said “That’s a fraternity pin isn’t it? Aren’t they supposed to be pretty serious? I said I wouldn’t say that they were as a rule but that this one was. He said he didn’t take anything like that seriously until the final knot was tied. Alice and Jack will be going down to San Diego about next Saturday or Wed. As soon as the submarine he is on gets out of dry dock. Jack will have to go down there on the ship so Alice will have the drive down there all by herself. She tried to persuade me to go down with her. That would be a swell lark but the big difficulty would be getting back. Alice asked me to stay down there a couple of weeks with her. For a moment my hopes sored because I remembered Mr. Cresap saying something about having to go down there on a business trip sometime in the next month but they threw cold water on that idea as soon as I got here because Mr. Cresap had found out in the mean time that it wouldn’t do him any good to go down there after six months some how.

Steve called up tonight and said that he had just gotten Jack’s message. He said he was so sorry he hadn’t been able to see me. He said he had to go aboard tonight and that he was leaving for San Diego at eight tomorrow morning. I told him (foolishly perhaps) about Alice’s proposal and of the difficulty. He said by all means come down and we would drive his car back. I asked how he would get it back again. O, he said he would come up and get it. It is an awful temptation but of course it would be taking unfair advantage of Steve. I know you would disapprove and rightly.  It is a brand new car and it would be such a lark and a change. I didn’t tell Steve I wouldn’t come because his boat was waiting for him and I knew if I said no he would just argue and keep the boat waiting. Isn’t temptation a terrible thing? If my life weren’t so routine just now there wouldn’t be any temptation at all. But the temptation will be past as soon as I get home and Mom & Pop tell me how impossible it would be.

I am enclosing a notice that I saw in the Berkeley Hi Weekly paper about Slick’s little brother. June says if he ever comes to Oregon let him pledge Sigma Nu. In fact June wants a whole paragraph in this letter. She says to tell Bill Sloth to write to her. She says to tell you this is her pencil and paper so it is due to her you are getting a letter today and lastly she says had it in for you for keeping her awake while I write to you.

So, you see dear, I had better close this long scrawl. I love you. Sweet heart. We are going home tomorrow afternoon so by this time tomorrow I will be eating up your letters that will be waiting for me.

Goodnight, lover

Ann

P.S. June and Lavinia (The Cresap’s oldest) have come to the conclusion after much deliberation that Ann Hibbard would look much better than Ann Bedford.

George darling,

Horror of horrors! I left my precious pen that everyone likes so at the Cresaps. But never fear. I will get it again. Don’t rejoice too soon because you are not freed from the curse of it yet!

We are in Ventura tonight. It is about sixty miles north of Los Angeles and about two hundred miles north of San Diego. Alice wants to get there tomorrow soon after noon. We left San Francisco about eight fifteen this morning and got here about 12 hrs. later stopping off for lunch and supper. There is my report. Alice is loads of fun to travel with but I am real tired tonight. And is my face red! Wind burn – ha, ha you tho’t I was embarrassed but not a bit of it. I have us.

Please, forgive me if I cut it short but I can hardly keep my eyes open.

I love you, sweetheart

Annie.

Dear Family,

This has been one of the most exciting weekends in the history of the University. the trouble with the State Board of Higher Education has blossomed out in full force again, and this time something is going to pop for sure. Mr. Morris, the Dean of the Law School, is fighting Kerr and his cohorts tooth and toe-nail, and he is a fighter of no mean ability. Both his speech in the Alumni luncheon here Saturday, and Mr. Nelson’s speech in reply to it are printed in full in the Oregonian. I hope you will both read it, because there are to be some momentous changes around here soon. After the events of this last week, the University faculty has taken a definite stand which they will not go back on. Either Mr. Kerr and Mr. Nelson will have to resign soon or Mr. Morris will lose his position with the faculty. In the event of the latter, there will be no more University of Oregon, for the faculty and the students will both walk out. We have been subjected to just a little too much around here, and the end has come. Under the leadership of Dean Morris, we have at last put everything out on the table, and it will take very little time for all this wrangling to come to an end.

I will come home either Friday or Saturday. I don’t know just when, so don’t prepare anything for me. I will just blow in. I will return sometime, Sunday, but I will stay long enough for Sunday dinner. There is a young lady here on the campus that has always been a very good friend of mine. She is Frances Johnston, and her brother is a Chi Psi. I have taken her out this term when I have indulged in such things, and she is certainly a fine young lady. I would like to have you both meet her, so I am asking permission to have her over to our home for Sunday dinner. I don’t know that she will be able to accept, but I would like to ask her if it is at all possible. Write and tell me your decision in the matter.

It is now past twelve o’clock in the evening, and I am badly in need of sleep. I hate to go out and crawl into bed, through, for it is like crawling in a sheet of ice. It is very cold down here, and it is no fun sleeping out there on that porch. When I come home, I am going to get my wool pajamas.

Bye and love, Brother.