Arthur said he had not heard from you concerning your financial future so I urged him to take the initiative and suggest some income-producing investments to meet your immediate needs. His advice has made such a difference in my life, and I know he would be glad to do the same for you. And since his business requires him to make frequent trips to Boston, he could meet with you personally at your mutual convenience.
I hope all goes well with you and the baby. The next few months will be the most difficult to endure. Like me, you went directly from your parents to a husband, and it is only now, as an adult woman with a child, that you have had to make decisions entirely on your own. You may not believe me yet, but your own experience will soon confirm my assurance that you are as qualified to make decisions as those you have previously allowed to make them for you. Indeed I predict that you will soon enjoy the process as much as I do.
Je t’embrasse—et courage,
Bess
November 2, 1920
Dallas
Dearest Papa and Mavis,
I have been reading the newspapers with such interest all fall, preparing to cast my first vote for President of the United States. There is no question in my mind who is the better man—Governor Cox earned my vote with his stand on the League of Nations—but how many times in the past have we seen the better man go down to defeat? I hope that will not happen this year, now that women have finally been allowed a voice.
I have been fortunate to secure the services of an above-average colored woman to supervise the household. She is a good cook and with my encouragement has begun to show an interest in enlarging her culinary vocabulary. Last night she prepared very passable “suprême de volaille” (boned breast of chicken in cream sauce). I was more nervous than she about the undertaking, since I had invited my friend Arthur Fineman for dinner, but the evening was a triumph.
She is also an experienced seamstress and we spend many afternoons profitably employed in redoing my fall wardrobe. While we sew, I share with her my opinions on a wide variety of subjects. Recently we have been concentrating on topics of a political nature in order to prepare ourselves to exercise the long-withheld privilege of voting.
At first my housekeeper insisted she would not vote in this election, thinking it presumptuous to claim the privilege the same year I did. She reminded me of how many years her forebears stood by mutely and watched their white masters vote before finally earning the right to do likewise. She felt it would imply disrespect on her part not to allow me to set a precedent in this area. But I was quick to point out that at least in the matter of voting rights the color barrier had long since been broken, and the two of us are equals in the current battle against discrimination on the basis of sex.
I discuss the merits of both candidates as we hem my petticoats and we are adamant in our support of the Democratic ticket. Not only does Governor Cox appear to be a man of high ideals and firm convictions, we are equally impressed with his running mate, Franklin Roosevelt. I will be very proud to cast my first vote for their ticket and I trust the two of you will do the same.
Your loving daughter,
Bess
December 1, 1920
Dallas
Dearest Totsie,
I was fascinated by your first article. The society section of a newspaper is the perfect place for someone of your background to seek employment. In addition to income, your new position will provide a legitimate introduction to the social life of the city. And for me, it is most comforting to see that someone with no professional training or experience can find a satisfying means of making a living. I have always felt that a liberal arts education and the experience acquired through travel equal the value of any purely technical training.
I knew Arthur was planning a trip to Boston in November but I was surprised that you could persuade him to stay and spend Thanksgiving with you. I had decided against taking the children to Honey Grove for the holiday weekend, not wanting to leave Arthur alone, and had even made reservations for the lavish holiday buffet at the country club.
However, I am glad the two of you could spend the holiday together, and the children and I did not lack for company at the club. I was surprised to see so many people dining there on a day traditionally reserved for family but apparently I am not the only one who enjoys leavening the conversation of family with the company of friends. I am now convinced that the holidays are better enjoyed in the combined company of family and friends and to that end I am planning a large open house for Christmas Eve. It will be the first time I have entertained formally since we moved into our new home, so I am inviting not only those I owe but also quite a few whom I would like to have indebted to me.
I await Arthur’s return to make a final decision on the menu since I consider his taste in this area infallible. I would ask you to give him this message but surely I will be seeing him before you read this letter.
Je t’embrasse,
Bess
December 15, 1920
Dallas
Dearest Papa and Mavis,
Once again I find myself dreading the approach of the holiday season. Scrooge is not the only one haunted by the ghost of Christmas past. On an ordinary day it is possible to be totally and mercifully absorbed by the present but at Christmas my mind is layered with memories. Perhaps that is why it is so difficult to be alone during the holidays. One’s thoughts are peopled by all the family and friends who ever shared the occasion and solitude is unbearable.
I am so disappointed you cannot be with us this year. I hope it is not the Christmas Eve party I am planning that is keeping you away. I know in the past we always have had a quiet family Christmas but at this time of the year, when the past stalks the present, I cannot escape the fact that, without Rob, we are not a family. Pretending that we are is more painful than admitting that I am a woman living alone with her three children and seeking a less traditional way to celebrate. When Rob was seated at the head of the table carving our Christmas turkey, I could happily close our doors to the rest of the world. But since his death, no gathering of relatives, however devoted, can keep me from missing my friends. And does not an “open house” reflect the true spirit of Christmas, reminding us of the night when every door was closed except those of a stable?
The children will miss having you here for Christmas morning and so will Santa Claus. Like any entrepreneur, he thrives on an audience. Perhaps you will drive down later in the week when the holiday pace has slackened and our thoughts are turning toward a New Year hopefully unburdened by memories of the past.
All my love,
Bess
January 10, 1921
Dallas
Dearest Totsie,
Dwight gave you the best possible Christmas present by returning your stock portfolio and renouncing all interest in your investments, though I can guess the cost to his pride. I hope you see now how wrong it would have been for you to take the baby home for the holidays. Surely spending Christmas alone was a small price to pay for financial independence.
Our open house on Christmas Eve was a huge success, as you can see from the enclosed clipping. Unfortunately the reporter from The Dallas News does not have your eye for detail but at least the photograph will give you some idea of the house. It is not a very flattering picture of me but it does show my dress to advantage and I think Arthur looks very handsome.
Though his name was not on the invitation, Arthur graciously acted as host, which relieved me of a great deal of responsibility. He of course knew most of my friends in a business way, but now that we are seeing each other regularly, they have come to accept him socially as well and seem to enjoy his company as much as I do. And to my surprise, we are accepted as a couple here with no questions asked.
The party was much larger than I originally planned and I was afraid the children might get lost in the crowd but they were the center of attention. They spent all week deciding what to wear and the night of the party spent more time getting dressed than I did. Whe
n I was first planning the party, I thought of inviting a few children but all three were vehemently opposed to the idea. I have discovered that children settle for the company of other children only when there is no alternative. Given their choice, they much prefer the society of adults. On Christmas Eve they were the objects of enraptured attention and the three of them were still glowing from it the next morning when they came downstairs to see what Santa Claus had left.
The best present I received on Christmas Day was the unexpected arrival of my father and his wife from Honey Grove. They planned to spend only the afternoon with us but we prevailed upon them to stay the night. It is so rewarding when one is finally able to enjoy a friendship with one’s family.
Now that you are in charge of your own finances, I can wish you nothing better than a happy and prosperous New Year!
Bonne Année,
Bess
April 10, 1921
Dallas
Mrs. Martin Banks
Program Chairman
Dallas Shakespeare Club
Dallas, Texas
Dear Exa,
I am putting this suggestion in written form so that you may submit it directly to the program committee—providing of course that it meets with your approval.
I have discovered to my surprise and delight that my colored housekeeper has an impressive acquaintance with and deep appreciation for the works of Shakespeare, and I would like to propose that we include interested members of our household staffs in some of our activities.
For example, on the days when the club invites a guest speaker, the servants could sit in the audience—in a special section reserved for them, of course, and suitably located toward the back so they could exit inconspicuously before the social hour began. In addition to their edification, such an arrangement would provide a built-in staff for the club, enabling us to serve more substantial refreshments than we are able to do at present. Indeed I have long felt it would be appropriate and quite pleasant to follow our meetings with a light repast. Food and fellowship would undoubtedly enhance our enjoyment of the scholarship that preceded it.
I hope you will give this proposal your full and immediate attention. I look forward to your response.
My best,
Bess
April 18, 1921
Dallas
Dearest Totsie,
How happy you must be—back in Boston as a free woman! Though I know this was a long and difficult winter for you, at least your enforced residence in Nevada allowed us to show you a little Texas hospitality en route.
I trust you are profiting from Arthur’s presence in Boston this week. Once you start receiving the increased returns from your reinvested capital, you will again be able to live in the manner to which marriage accustomed you—and still enjoy all the advantages of living alone.
The baby sounds adorable. Two is an exciting, albeit exasperating age, as one enters the world of the spoken word. What a sense of power language instills in anyone not afraid to use it. No child is ever reluctant to employ any word with which he has even a passing acquaintance. It is only as adults that we shrink from employing the full power of our vocabulary.
Arthur must have been enchanted to hear the baby speak his name. He has always treated my children rather like foreigners, addressing them with the utmost courtesy but with no hope of achieving true communication. However, it is undoubtedly easier to make friends with an infant.
I will miss seeing you this summer, but my life has become so centered in Dallas that I have no wish to leave for even a week. I am learning to play tennis. It is a very demanding sport—both in terms of time and energy—but the sense of well-being that follows an afternoon on the courts is unlike anything I have ever experienced.
The man who is undertaking my instruction is an attractive engineer named Sam Garner who recently moved here from Philadelphia. We met at the home of mutual friends, Grace and Frank Townsend. He was married to a doctor who interned with Grace, but I gather he is in the process of getting a divorce. He is a kind and sincere man, despite rather strong views on the subject of professional women, and I see in him a zest for life that matches my own. He has made his own way in the world with great success—and I suspect before long he will make a substantial place for himself in this community.
Has spring arrived in Boston? It is everywhere I turn today. The azaleas have worked their annual alchemy upon the drab banks of Turtle Creek, their beauty doubled by their reflection in its green water. And flowering fruit trees are everywhere, their blossoms promising a harvest that never comes. (I have yet to pick an edible piece of fruit from any tree in any garden I have ever had.) But in this season a promise is cause enough for celebration.
My own garden is in full bloom. I planned it very carefully last fall, but the most spectacular colors this spring have come from the iris which emerged uninvited between my neat rows of tulips. I suppose they were set out according to a careful scheme by some former owner, but now, independent of my design, they appear of their own volition, in wild and glorious profusion. How arrogant we are to think the survival of any life that begins in our shadow depends upon our continuing physical presence. Indeed our shadow too often stands between the new life we create—in whatever form—and the sun’s life-giving rays. Like the former owners of this house, would we not do better to go where our lives take us, with no thought to the seeds left planted in the soil we once owned? How can we not rejoice in the knowledge that strangers are now admiring beauty that began with us?
Next Saturday I am having a large afternoon garden party with a string quartet for dancing on the terrace. With the passage of that unfortunate prohibition legislation, invitations to afternoon tea have become increasingly popular here, though the gentlemen always accept in the hope that their hostess will provide an unadvertised beverage of a stronger nature. And any hostess who hopes to provide male dancing partners for her guests will, of course, oblige.
I do wish you could be here to take part in the festivities and then take note of them for the newspaper. I love reading your clippings and envy all the places your job has taken you. You are the only woman I know who can attend parties without having to reciprocate. A single man is always welcome—his mere presence considered payment enough for any invitation he receives. But a woman not only must repay an invitation, she also must attempt to outdo her previous efforts if she hopes to continue on the social circuit. It is indeed exhausting, even for someone who enjoys it as much as I do.
My best to Arthur. How much longer does he plan to be away?
Kiss the baby for me and teach him to say “Bess.” It’s surely easier than “Arthur.”
Je t’embrasse,
Bess
May 5, 1921
Dallas
Dear Lydia,
Your letter caught me completely off-guard. I had no idea you and Manning had any interest in buying the farm in Vermont. Have you considered the difficulty in overseeing property located at such a distance from your place of residence? It is not that I have any proprietary interest in the farm. My life is here—at least for now. It just seems like such an impulsive move on your part. Except for the pleasure it will provide, I cannot see that the farm has much potential as an investment. Leasing it for the summer is one thing, but buying quite another.
When will you be leaving? Please keep me informed of your plans so that I may share at least vicariously in the pleasures of your pastoral summer.
Love to you all,
Bess
June 7, 1921
Dallas
Dear Dwight,
It was a surprise to hear from you but nothing compared to the shock of learning from Arthur and Totsie that they plan to be married at the end of the month. Their letter preceded yours by several days but I have yet to answer it, not knowing what to say. I believed with all my heart that Totsie was on her way to an independent life and it was to this end that I introduced her to Arthur. I never dreamed their friendship would even approac
h the area of marriage. Indeed when they met, I myself was enjoying a rather special relationship with Arthur, but obviously in recent months I have failed to convey to him just how much his friendship meant to me.
It feels strange to be confiding in someone who was the object of so many of the conversations Totsie and I shared last summer. However, I suppose intimacy between two people can be achieved in any number of ways, and events of the past year have brought you and me closer than we ever expected to be. We both have a stake in the decision just made by two people we loved and trusted (or at least I loved and trusted both of them), and we must now decide what course of action is still open to each of us.
I never thought you would lose Totsie when she decided to live alone. Indeed I was convinced that once you became accustomed to leading separate lives, your relationship would resume on a more equal footing. But I guess some people are just meant to be married and Totsie clearly falls into that category. If I had known it at the time, I would never have encouraged her to leave home and I certainly would never have introduced her to Arthur, since apparently he belongs in the same category.
I suppose we have no choice now but to broaden our thinking to embrace the two of them as a couple. I realize this will be easier for me than for you since each of them has already earned a place in my affections. Though Totsie will never be your wife again, surely you will choose to keep her as a friend. Please do not allow your pride to add to your loss.
Dear Dwight, try not to be unhappy. You have nothing to gain from despair. But thank you for writing me. Even though your letter began in anger, I felt it ended with the promise of affection, and I am a woman who holds a man to his promises.