I’m a whole heap younger than you, being an ignorant 23 years of age. But I’m sure that years don’t really determine age, aren’t you?
I don’t find much in common with the boys of my age. They’re so silly. And all the 65 year old men in my little town are married.
But oh how I long for real intelligent, mature talk with someone. So I’m not forward, Mr. Singleton. Really I’m not. I’m just real lonely down here in this little town in the sands of South Carolina.
I thought your face, in that little picture in the news letter, was the sweetest, kindest, most intelligent I have ever seen.
Dear me, now I know you will think I’m a forward girl, but really I’m not. My poor old mother says I carry my honesty beyond the point of virtue, and I suppose that’s true. I just can’t be dishonest. It hurts me inside. So I had to tell you honest how I felt about your picture, and feeling that way, I picked you of all the men in the news letter to write to.
I don’t make a practice of this kind of thing. Really I don’t. But we’re both members of the same lonelyhearts club and that makes a difference, doesn’t it? I mean, it isn’t just like writing to a stranger, is it?
Your friend (?)
Trudy Bell
P.S. It must be awfully exciting, being the retired owner of a big fertilizer factory. I’m just dying to hear all about you, how you had all those hundreds of people working for you and gobs of salesmen out on the road selling your products.
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2643 Elm Ave.
Centerville, S. C.
July 14
Dear Mr. Singleton,
I’m ever so grateful you answered my little old letter so fast. After I mailed my letter, I almost wished I hadn’t done it. I couldn’t help but think that I had written to a strange man. I didn’t sleep a wink the whole night through. Honest I didn’t. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand my writing a strange man, and I was purely fearful you’d think my letter plumb silly.
I feel much better now, thanks to you. I have to be honest. So I’ll say that yours was the sweetest, nicest letter I ever had from any body. Not that the mailman breaks his back with letters to me, ha, ha. Especially with letters from strangers. Yours was the first of that kind I ever had. But what I mean is, letters from my own darling mother were never so sweet and understanding as yours. I know you must be a great man, and I’m humbly thankful for your friendship. I was real pleased that you enjoyed my letter so much. I sure enjoyed yours. My, I know you’re a strong spirited man to have borne up under all the responsibilities of your business life. Why, the way you started out as a young man with nothing and built up that fertilizer factory reads just like a story book.
I truly feel sorry that you lost your wife three years ago. I know what you mean by that statement that you feel like you’ve been living “in a vacuum”. Loneliness is such a terrible thing. What a shame your wife never had any children. Like you say, you’ve felt that there is just you on an island of loneliness in the midst of the whole world.
I feel like I know you real well. We have a feeling in common, and I know it was a lucky day for me when I wrote you, if you get what I mean.
I am honestly flattered that you’d want a picture of little old me. I am not bad looking, if I do say so myself. Course I don’t claim to be a raving beauty, but these silly boys, with only one thought in their empty heads, seem to think I’m sexy. That’s why I want the friendship of a mature gentleman. Not that I’m a prude, but a lady doesn’t like to fight a wolf every time she has a date, and it’s my one desire to be everything he wants when the right man comes along. I’d die before I’d be anything less.
Oh, how embarrassed I feel, pouring out my heart to you this way. But in you I feel I have found understanding, and I’m sure so fine a gentleman will take my comments as they’re meant.
To get back to the picture. I don’t have many pictures of myself. I think someone who has a lot of pictures made of themselves is kind of self-centered, don’t you? Maybe I’m wrong. Just one of my little old ideas.
I do have a picture taken of me at the beach last summer. It isn’t in color, so I have to tell you that my hair is blonde and my eyes are blue. I had to take my dear mother to the beach for her health, and that boy lolly-dallying in the background is my cousin Ruel. He’s a sweet young man, always looking after me. It was him that drove me and mother down to the beach. She felt ever so much better after her little vacation.
I really have to run now, for I’m a working girl. I work because I feel young people should have a sense of responsibility.
I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you again, Mr. Singleton.
Warmly yours,
Trudy Bell
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2643 Elm Ave.
Centerville, S. C.
July 19
Dear Amos,
It was so nice of you, Mr. Singleton, to ask me to call you by your first name. I think Amos is the sweetest, nicest name ever. It makes me think of wisdom and gentleness.
I have read your letter over and over. At first I didn’t know how to take your remarks about the picture of me in my bathing suit. Then, I have to admit, I got a little thrill by the warmth of what you said, and I decided that I rather liked the compliments. You tease you, I’ll bet there are
