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Letters to Lou

February 10, 1944

Letters from Arthur Singer

watercolor painting of a darkhaired man in uniform

Singer's self-portrait


Dear Lou

This unusual delay in answering your last letter was due to our moving. Since then there was much to keep us busy.

It’s no longer a “dry run”, Lou, and I expect it won’t be long now. However, we’ll keep writing each other as usual. Naturally, we are not getting furloughs – they are out of the question now.

The other night we got out on pass that allowed us a few hours in New York. You can guess where I headed for. But when I got to Bellaire I found out from Judy’s mother that Judy went to a friend’s house for the whole night! Did I feel low! Furthermore, the only information she had was that the party’s name was Jacobson and she lived at Creston Avenue in the Bronx. Judy, of course, didn’t know that name of the I was coming in since I could [not] phone or send a telegram and she hadn’t received my latest letters. Her mother was upset and excited almost as much as me. So we took off for the Bronx. I knew where Creston Ave. was but not where it started and ended. I inquired and went to Tremont Ave (the beginning) and her Mom took one side; me the other and we went into every house reading names in the hallways. We had a couple of false alarms. Finally, I found a Jacobson and rang the bell. A man came to the door and I knew I had hit the right place. I had met this girl my wife was visiting and I knew this must be her brother because of the resemblance between them. I asked for Judy and when I walked into the room she was so amazed she couldn’t say a word. I flew down the stairs to tell Mrs. G that I had found Judy. When I came up again Judy was crying. It was pretty sad – she had picked the wrong night for a visit. She couldn’t have known I was coming in, but you know how it is this might well have been the last time I could see her and here we were – in a friend’s house, with the hour getting very late and me having to leave to catch a bus in 1 ½ hours. It was a pretty terrible predicament. I was happy and amazed that I had been lucky enought [sic] to find her, but here we were dying for each other. Well, everyone left us alone while we were there and when the time came we left and I took a taxi all the way downtown. The emotions we both experienced that night were the extremes and when I returned to camp I was knocked out. I only had ½ hour’s sleep and had to go on K.P.!! So for the next 16 hours I was like a man in a daze I was so “beat to the socks.” I hit the hay fast last night. I’m happy though because it looks as though I’ll get home again to see her for a few hours.

Interesting story, eh Lou? That’s how it is in the Army. I was never one to ever get good breaks but one good break I got in my life was marrying Judy – and that one is so big that it overshadows all others. I’m hoping for the day when we can get back to normal life. I hope you get that rating soon, Lou. As for me, I’ll never get one – I just don’t know how to “buck” and shoot my mouth off. I never did even in civilian life every success I had there was due to the quality of work. So you know the story, I don’t have to tell you.

I got a letter from a friend of mine – Jack Golden (is his name familiar to you). He went to studied painting with Harrison, is a top notch photographer and he took over my position at Sackheims after I left. He has been in the Army some time. He had gotten married shortly before he went in. Recently his wife had a baby boy. He is in Oklahoma – and here’s a hot one. He was visiting a friend of his and there was another fellow there who had room in the house. Jack started talking about painting, painting led to Harrison – when he mentioned Harrison the last fellow popped up that he had studied with Harrison too! Then Jack said he worked at Ben Sackheim’s. The fellow shouted – “why you must know Artie Singer!” Maybe you’ve guessed it by now – the fellow was Milt!!! By the way have you heard from the sonofagun I haven’t – for ages.

Well keep writing, gate, you have my A.P.O. number and I have it on this envelope. Give my love to Ann.

Your pal,


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