April 22, 1945
Letters from Theodore Katz
April 22, 1945
Dearest Helen –
The dam that has been holding up the mail is beginning to show signs of cracking. Exhibit “A” being two V-mails from you – April 4th & 5th and joyfully received as always – perhaps a little more so because of the recent dearth.
The gift from my favorite father & mother sounds fine – and so utilitarian – you can never tell when we’ll be caught in a fire.
The task of moving sounds complicated indeed – and I’m sure that the moving man finally ended up at the booby hatch. I’m waiting to hear how it all came out – to hear that, at last, all of your belongings will be under one roof again.
I have made more additions to my apartment to supplement the stove incident of yesterday’s letter. Seeing as how the room is without windows, I foraged amongst neighboring “dwellings,” unoccupied of course, and found a complete window, with frame – which upon my return, I found to be too large – but undaunted, I simply nailed it around the window opening. My other “window,” I covered with cardboard and odd lots of wood leaving just enough opening for the famous stove pipe. And now I have surcease from the wind which has been howling through here like a tornado.
And now we have a quiet, little homelike scene. Three candles glow softly and all is quiet except for the scratching of three pens. To my right is Dave, my erstwhile roommate – or perhaps I should say perennial – and Jack, attracted by the warmth of the stove and our pleasant company, of course, is writing, huddled up next to the stove, for, this room is the paragon of all rooms in the house – being the only one with a stove.
This letter has just been interrupted – while we moved a large piece of furniture (some kind of a funny looking closet-cupboard arrangement – and incidentally our only piece of furniture) out, and Jack in. So now, you and Edith have nothing on us – Jack and I, also share an apartment – the only trouble being that, in most cases, we no sooner get settled than – out we go – and then the process starts all over again. Sometimes, it seems never-ending – and at times it’s impossible to convince myself that someday it will all be over.
But, tonight – my crystal ball tells me that if we’re patient just a little while longer, I’ll be back in civilian clothes and with a name instead of a number – and with you. All our memories are very strong tonight – and it will be so nice to just lie back and think about them.
Goodnight and –
All my love,