Showing posts with label Mamie's Letter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mamie's Letter. Show all posts

Friday, 23 August 2013

Mamie's Letter

Mamie's letter in full, with the transcriptions at the bottom of the page.















Page 1
Paris, Ontario,  Aug  1921

Dear Mamie,
In the first place, I’d like to know if I made a mistake or not in saying “Dear Mamie” and then if I spelt “Mamie” right.
I suppose you still think I went to the Allen on purpose Saturday night to meet you, but I didn’t. I went with Charlie to see Harold Pearcy.
Say, your cousin Durnham told me something about you that makes me think a lot better about you.
This is a great place up here and I am having a great time. Last night we had a picnic about 20 of us, old ladies and all and a friend of mine invited me. We played baseball and football and after lunch went up the river on a bicycle boat which can be hired out. We had smores too, and I certainly had a good time. This place up here is much (over)


Page 2
Like Whiteman’s Creek, only the creek is practically a river.
I’d like you to see some of the big black bass I caught up here.
The threshers were up at the neighbour’s farm to-day and I had to pitch hay and managed to get my eyes full so I don’t think I’d make a very good farmer.
So Charlie said he was going to fix up a bogus letter and send it to you and sign my name so as to get you mad at me so if you get an extra letter you’ll know that one is a fake.
I suppose you go over on the commons every night with Ron Fraser or Barney.
Are you still mad at Joe or is it he that is mad at you
Say, the next time I ask you to go to the show with me I expect you to go and not say you can’t.


Page 3
Like you did that night at the carnival.
I think Joe is waiting for Amy to come back to take her. Is she back yet? Have I spelt Amy right? It’s the first time I ever heard of such a name.
Gosh, but it’s lonesome up here at night to sit and hear the crickets sing and that’s when I wish I was  back home having some fun on the commons with you.
I bet your chickens are all dead by now because you fed them as well.
Have you read that Buffalo Bill story I gave you? It’s a (lob) of bull isn’t it.
I think it was mean of you to take that cigarette I had Saturday night because I haven’t had a smoke since.


Page 4
because you can’t buy any smokes out here except tobacco which is strong enough to kill a horse, so I might as well tell you that I’ve quit smoking.
Say, do you like bees, well if you do there is loads of them up here. It was just today that my uncle was cutting weeds when he disturbed a nest of humble bees and one stung him on the forehead.
Gee but this a great life if you don’t weaken I don’t think I’ve done anything yet but go fishing.
It’s going to eleven o’clock now and I intend to get up at five in the morning to go fishing so I think


Page 5
I’ll get to bed. It’s getting warmer. Isn’t it.
If this letter don’t reach you alone then I’ll say it with flowers. Don’t let anyone else see this letter not that there is anything in it but please don’t. But I’ll know you’ll be stubborn and do just the opposite and don’t forget to write back to me as your letter will give me a chance to spend more time
Here’s my address
Joe Ion
c/o Michael Collins
Paris, Ont.
Be sure and address it right.
Well I guess I’ll jump off here
(over)


Page 6
Because I’ve got to get up early in the morning so good-bye for this time.
I remain,
Your  ____________________
Joe

P.S. I don’t know what to put in after your please let me know.
I love the cows and chickens But that isn’t the life for me.
Goodbye.
Please excuse the writing, paper, ink, scratching, blots, holes, dirt, etc. but it’s the I could find. Let’s Go.
Hot Dog




Thursday, 22 August 2013

Mamie's Letter - Page 6

Because I’ve got to get up early in the morning so good-bye for this time.
I remain,
Your  ____________________
Joe

P.S. I don’t know what to put in after your please let me know.
I love the cows and chickens But that isn’t the life for me.
Goodbye.
Please excuse the writing, paper, ink, scratching, blots, holes, dirt, etc. but it’s the I could find. Let’s Go.
Hot Dog
Adorable.

We found a few Joe/Joseph/John Ions who were from the area at around the same time, but didn't find any real conclusive matches for this particular Joe. The closest we found was a Sgt. Joseph Ion who married during WWII and was listed as being from Paris or Brantford. Our Joe would likely be nearly 40 during the second world war: it is not outside the realm of possibility that it is the same Joseph Ion, but unfortunately we couldn't find conclusive evidence, such as an age at the time of marriage.

We researched a few of the other names contained in the letter: Joe and Mamie's friends, and Joe's uncle, Michael Collins, but all had such common first and last names and we know so little about these folks that finding matches and more information was difficult.

Mamie, or Clara May Woodard, lived at her home on Sheridan Street with her brother Gordon. She had a second brother named Blake, and lost her father and mother in 1936 and 1945 respectively. Mamie never married and didn't have any children, but as her obituary from the year 2000 states, she would be missed by her cousins and her friends.

These items were donated in 2010, when they were discovered by the then-current occupants of the home, who had found them in a box in the attic along with several other documents.

Hot Dog.



Monday, 19 August 2013

Mamie's Letter - Page 5

(From last page: "It’s going to eleven o’clock now and I intend to get up at five in the morning to go fishing so I think")
I’ll get to bed. It’s getting warmer. Isn’t it.
If this letter don’t reach you alive then I’ll say it with flowers. Don’t let anyone else see this letter not that there is anything in it but please don’t. But I’ll know you’ll be stubborn and do just the opposite and don’t forget to write back to me as your letter will give me a chance to spend more time
Here’s my address
Joe Ion
c/o Michael Collins
Paris, Ont.
Be sure and address it right.
Well I guess I’ll jump off here
(over)
We did some research about "I'll say it with flowers". It's a popular enough saying, but we couldn't find reason why he'd mention that in such a non sequitor fashion. Maybe it was a song lyric or a film title that was popular at the time, but we couldn't dig up any reference. It may be an inside joke!

One last thought before we post the 6th and final page of the letter: "Don't let anyone else see this letter..." ... Oops.


Thursday, 15 August 2013

Mamie's Letter - Page 4

(From last letter: "I think it was mean of you to take that cigarette I had Saturday night because I haven’t had a smoke since...")
because you can’t buy any smokes out here except tobacco which is strong enough to kill a horse, so I might as well tell you that I've quit smoking.
Say, do you like bees, well if you do there is loads of them up here. It was just today that my uncle was cutting weeds when he disturbed a nest of bumble bees and one stung him on the forehead.
Gee but this a great life if you don’t weaken I don’t think I've done anything yet but go fishing.
It’s going to eleven o'clock now and I intend to get up at five in the morning to go fishing so I think...
Some people may recall an older family member quipping "It's a great life if you don't weaken", or you may be familiar with the phrase from the Tragically Hip song "It's a Good Life if You Don't Weaken". The phrase was initially coined by John Buchan, Lord Tweedsmuir, 15th Governor General of Canada who was a politician and novelist of Scottish origin.


Monday, 12 August 2013

Mamie's Letter - Page 3

(From last letter: "Say, the next time I ask you to go to the show with me I expect you to go and not say you can’t...)

Like you did that night at the carnival.
I think Joe is waiting for Amy to come back to take her. Is she back yet? Have I spelt Amy right? It’s the first time I ever heard of such a name.
Gosh, but it’s lonesome up here at night to sit and hear the crickets sing and that’s when I wish I was  back home having some fun on the commons with you.
I bet your chickens are all dead by now because you fed them so well.
Have you read that Buffalo Bill story I gave you? It’s a lot of bull isn't it.
I think it was mean of you to take that cigarette I had Saturday night because I haven’t had a smoke since...

In case you missed them, here are pages 1 and 2.

Mamie kept chickens on Sheridan Street apparently. When did it become a by-law that people couldn't keep chickens within the city? If it's not a by-law, I want to start keeping chickens!

We also found it interesting that Joe had never heard the name "Amy" before.

Stay tuned for page 4 on Thursday!


Friday, 9 August 2013

Mamie's Letter - Page 2


Like Whiteman’s Creek, only the creek is practically a river.
I’d like you to see some of the big black bass I caught up here.
The threshers were up at the neighbour’s farm to-day and I had to pitch hay and managed to get my eyes full so I don’t think I’d make a very good farmer.
So Charlie said he was going to fix up a bogus letter and send it to you and sign my name so as to get you mad at me so if you get an extra letter you’ll know that one is a fake.
I suppose you go over on the commons every night with Ron Fraser or Barney.
Are you still mad at Joe or is it he that is mad at you
Say, the next time I ask you to go to the show with me I expect you to go and not say you can’t.

Last week we posted the first page of a charming letter written to a young Miss Mamie Woodard from a lad named Joe Ion. This is the second page of the letter, which details Joe's futile attempts at farming, his concern with what Mamie thinks of him, and possibly a bit of jealousy at Mamie's being able to go to the commons with other little friends. 

What do you think of this line: "Say, the next time I ask you to go to the show with me, I expect you to go and not say you can't". Way to be bossy, Joe!

Watch out for pages 3 and 4 next week, which will be posted on Monday and Thursday!

Friday, 2 August 2013

Paris, Ont. Aug. 1921

Paris, Ontario,  Aug  1921
Dear Mamie,
In the first place, I’d like to know if I made a mistake or not in saying “Dear Mamie” and then if I spelt “Mamie” right.
I suppose you still think I went to the Allen on purpose Saturday night to meet you, but I didn’t. I went with Charlie to see Harold Pearcy.
Say, your cousin Dunham told me something about you that makes me think a lot better about you.
This is a great place up here and I am having a great time. Last night we had a picnic about 20 of us, old ladies and all and a friend of mine invited me. We played baseball and football and after lunch went up the river on a bicycle boat which can be hired out. We had smores too, and I certainly had a good time. This place up here is much (over)...


Dear Mamie...


This letter was written in the summer of 1921 by a young man called Joe to a girl named Mamie. Research shows that Mamie would have been about 15 years old at the time, and was living on Sheridan Street in Brantford. Joe was visiting Paris, Ontario over the summer, possibly to visit family and to go camping with his friends; the lad appears to be the same age as Miss Mamie.

Check back next week when we'll be posting Page 2!