Faded letter from 1929

No caption on this one, but it's pretty amazing.
Note the photo within the photo.

This is a very tiny little letter written with pencil on paper that's been crammed into an envelope for decades. When I post these letters, I smooth them out and store them flat, hoping to preserve them for the future. I'll do my best at figuring out what this letter says, but readers may need to excuse a few missed words here and there.
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Winnebago, Minn
Sept. 7, 1929

Dear Mary:

Sunday night, and we're all here: Regina asleep in her chair, Helen holding baby in the rocking chair, Floyd reading, George drawing pictures, Florence standing on a chair with her mouth going, Theresa standing by the table with her mouth also going, [illegible, looks like "Iha, Iha"] lying down, Edna with her big, blue eyes wide open listening.

There were seven cars here today, among them Mrs. Johnston, Will Hadley, Loyd Hussen and wife Anna Schoenfeld, Harry Duncanson, Walter Henry's family, Fred Doolittle.

I think you will have lots of letters to read and plenty of flowers to smell. I think we will get along alright with the threshing if we ever get at it. It's [illegible, misting?] outside now, so may not thresh tomorrow. Thursday, Billie will help in the house. Clara Daumanson said she would help if we needed her, but will probably not need her. I think I will go down there the last of the week with the kids, probably Saturday or Sunday. If I do, I'll be careful not to spill them out. Will close until tomorrow. With lots of love from Ray and the children.

Letter from 1927, mother to child

Floyd Van Amber, age 6 months

Hopefully, this letter won't be too frustrating to read. It's a very old letter, and it was written in pencil and folded up tight. Some of the lead has rubbed away and the pages are cracked and peeling. Additionally, punctuation seems to be optional here, so I had to take some liberties with phrasing and ordering. In any case, I think this is a pretty interesting find from the Udelhofen side of the family.

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May 6, 1927

Hear daughter, I will answer your letter that I received last night. I wrote you a letter so you ought to get it Friday or Saturday, and we sent that box of things 2 weeks ago today. We got a good, strong box and nailed it up good and I sent [illegible] shirt. I sent that sweater last Monday, but I couldn't find any coat. I think the coat is in that box we sent. We sent that box by freight. You might not get it for a month, but I hope you will get this letter.

Last Sunday was a nice day and I was here all day, waiting for some of the children to come home. [Illegible] got that cute little May to say "Grandma." Lost, I am just lost without him. That cute little boy. I think about him all the time and all the rest, too.

George is working on the section in Eagle Lake. John works in Mankato at the same place. He comes home nights and Hubbard is tilling. I went to Mankato yesterday. I saw Theresa and gave her that letter you wrote to her. She don't work in the same place. She works close by the Franklin Schoolhouse.

Don't let the children get too close to that fireplace or they might burn up.

I got a letter from [illegible]. Our step-mother is living, yet she is living with her niece. Georgie said last night that he wished he had May in bed with him. He [illegible] him to pieces. The boys did surely like him.

I got a letter from Clara yesterday. They are well.

It looks like rain this morning. It snowed once since you went away, and it has been chilly here. I don't believe I would like to live out in Washington if it is so cold at nights. The weather must be damp. Write and tell everything about that country. Write everything you can think.

I will close for this time.

From you mother, Mrs. Antan Udelhofen

Am soon, with love to all.

Farming in the 1920s in Washington

Sam Bursell and Beth Erdman, taken in Fairmont, Minn, in 1940.

Oak Lanes Farm
Elma, Washington
July 20-25

Dear Bro and All:

Your birthday greeting and gift just received and many thanks for both. And also for the children's pictures. The best of all. How does Mary keep them dressed and so neat and nice? I wanted to send Edna Beth something on her birthday, but Ray, we have lived in such a whirl this summer that it makes me dizzy-headed just to think of it. You and Dick were the only ones that even thought of my birthday. Beth said, "Well, Mother, this is the first time I ever forgot." I did not think of it myself.

I don't remember what I have written about the farm, but it is situated just like the John Eygabroad place. House in the city limits and farm outside, and we are on the Olympic Highway, paved from Seattle to Portland and we are about 1/2 way between. Our plan is to let the young people work the place. We had a ton of gooseberries, 1/2 ton of cherries, 250 crates of strawberries and raspberries. But a poor crop of loganbarries was a failure. We are going to dig most of them out and plant more strawberries, as they yield well and there is always a good market. We have 30 acres of grain and potatoes, a big pasture with river running through it and wood enough to last a century and swift little mountain stream running through the farmyard. Lots of oak trees everywhere for shade. It is very hard to get berry pickers. "Young America" for this country doesn't seem to work.

We have had lots of company also. A party of 8 from St. Louis were here a week, making 14 in family. It was Mr. Erdman's sister's family. They drove to Los Angeles to the Shriner Convention and went home this way. Next Saturday, we are going to meet Dick in Seattle and attend a pageant put on every year (religious). A cast of 5,000. I have always wanted to see it. Dick will come down then for a couple weeks.

You asked me once to tell you what I thought of this country for a home and better change of course. I have always liked it here and should love to have out out here, but with your family it would be taking quite a chance if you are doing well (and Mary might be homesick). There are so many things to think of; I never like to advise anyone. There is lots of logged-off land here to be got, but it has to be cleared and one must live in the meantime. Most of the men work in the woods or mills or in town, while clearing their farms. I wouldn't advise any working man without money to come to the Spokane Country. There are always hundreds of idle men there in winter. I think it is better here as one can work all winter. We have no snow and only about 2 weeks of cold weather. Everything is fresh and green all winter.

We have just hired a family to work the farm. They are Germans and were deported by the Bolshevicks (spelled wrong) to Siberia and were in a concentration camp there 4 years. Finally got to Germany and some friend persuaded them to come to America. It cost them $1,200 to get here, and then no work and no money and they are so homesick and want to go back. They have 3 lonely children and seem like very fine people. We have a house for them to live in, and they seem so thankful to have the work and Beth is teaching them to talk and we are letting them have everything we can spare from the house until they get started. We pay them $10 a month and furnish house, wood, potatoes, milk and eggs, so they should do pretty well. I think they want to save their money and go back to Germany, but they may get over it when they learn to talk.

We are only 40 minutes from the beach, but I am not as crazy about the ocean as some. One day is as long as I care to stay. It seems to overwhelm me with its magnitude.

I owe Isa and everybody a letter. Want to write to Orrin, too. I hear Percy is back in W. Hope he will do well.

Beth's husband sells for the Portland Utilities Company, so is not home very much of the time. That is why we have to keep help. When we get things in shape, I am planning to go to Almira and let the young people run the farm. But it has been neglected and is awfully run down.

I forgot to say that we had 3 cows, 400 laying hens, 2 calves, 1200 young chicks.

I don't believe I have ever even thanked the children for the lovely Valentine's card. They certainly did fine. I found some more simple and even prettier materials of [illegible].

I must close and get busy with a number of things. Will try and not keep you waiting so long next time. We are always so glad to hear from you all. Beth says, "Ray writes such fine letters."

Yours with love to all.

This is your birthday letter.

Letter from Truman, Minnesota in 1916

Caption: Helen Van Amber

This quirky letter really needs no introduction from me.

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Truman, Minnesota
November 17, 1916

Dear Mary:

We have just had supper, and so will write some. I suppose Aunt Hell [think this is the right name] told you all about the kids. I go in to see Florence every day. She is right at home. George and Floyd was in to see her the other day. Mrs. Hadley asked George if their baby wasn't better than his. George says that's our baby. Everything is all right here. Don't worry any.

Say Mary, maybe I hadn't better come even if you have an operation. I couldn't do you any good only for company. You will have the best of care, and if you shouldn't happen to get along just as good as you ought, they would phone and I could be there in short order. I would like to come. It will be lonesome for you, but we can afford to be lonesome a week or two for $12 or $15. That amount would get you a pretty good washing machine and then some. But I will come if you think you can't stand it. Well, we will see what you say in your next letter. Have to get the eggs sold. We are trying to follow directions, just as you told us to. I even lock the door, because I am always thinking you will say, "Did you lock the door?"

Will close now and wait for your next letter. With lots of love, from Ray.

Long letter from Elma, Washington from 1926

No caption on the back of this one,
but that little dog sure seems unhappy!

This is a really long letter, and since it includes information about Christmas and is dated in June, I'm assuming a long time had passed between letters. Sadly, this is a photocopy of a letter and it's been creased and refolded multiple times. As a result, there are a lot of illegible words. The letter is worth a read, however, as the writer provides a lot of historical information, and a lot of that is really interesting. For example, she predicts that Elma, Washington, will never get very big. As of the last census, there were about 3,000 people! She was right!

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Oak Lanes Farm
Elma, Washington

June 22, 1926

Dear Brother and All:

I usually destroy letters as soon as they are answered, but I find I have 4 of yours and don't know now when I wrote or what I wrote, so I will answer them all. And first, I want to thank you for the pretty gift. The older I grow, the better I like bright, pretty things [rest of the sentence is illegible]. I did not put a "do not open" sticker on the package, as I thought you could do as you liked, but we never open anything until Christmas. The box was not as nice this year as I could have wished it, but it is much more difficult to get things in a little place like this. I like to send the package early before the mails are so crowded. I am a great hand to do things, yesterday anyway. I certainly think you did well to remember anyone outside your family, and Beth would not think of your sending them anything. Emma wrote me what you send her, and she was greatly pleased. I send her things every little while, and money when I can. It seems so hard for elderly, helpless people not to have a cent to use and when they are so richly deserving. Emma has a comfortable little home, and Herbert and Myrtle pay her bills, and it seems as though the rest might furnish her with a little money, but they never think of it. She cried about it and said if she could have just a little money to use, she would be so glad. She is staying with Myrtle this winter. I packed a box and sent it to them. 1 dressed chicken, 2 pounds butter, 2 dozen eggs, jar of cranberry jelly, for Christmas dinner. Myrtle is a fine woman, but was married at 18 to a kid like herself, and he was absolutely worthless so they are divorced, but she has a fine boy in high school, so he is quite a comfort and will soon be able to help.

You spoke of snow at Raymond, Washington. There is snow in the mountains all around us, and there can be a wonderful change of climate within a few miles, but I have seen no snow for 2 years. I think it would look good to me. In Spokane, I never saw anything more beautiful than the pine trees with branches laden with snow and the sun shining on them. We have a flurry of snow here once in awhile and some mornings we look out and the whole country has the appearance of being a lake and the [light?] comes up to 10 miles away and has been known to come up to the Chehalis River clear to the Elma School house. In a few hours, the water drains off and is borne on its way to the sea. We are only 40 feet above sea level. You are 1,000. Spokane, 2,200. Last week, the men plowed the big field. Having no winter, we have no [illegible -- zest? rest?]. Our rains are like April, and I just love to be out in the rain. And as you say, I feel fine. The meadowlarks sing their sweetest when it is raining.

Centralia is a nice town. Chehalis also. We live in the Chehalis Valley, but I think Elma is the prettiest town I have seen yet, and some lovely homes here. It probably will never be very large, but is building right along, and one thing I enjoy about this country is the vast undeveloped possibilities and resources. It hasn't been scratched.

We are [raising? working?] 9 cows, but own only 3. The others we get to keep until the first of May. We have been selling $70 worth of eggs a week, but they are a little cheaper now. The climate of England is almost exactly like this, and I have sent there for some choice flower seeds. Food will take time to grow. Flowers I shall start them in a hot bed. Things grow here like weeks, and weeds grow like mushrooms. The day before Christmas, Beth and I went down in the woods and gathered ferns and greens and red berries and snow berries and made wreaths and we had a tree in the corner of the living room and spread moss over the floor and planted ferns and even added some moss-covered legs to make it look like the woods.

Dick was over 2 weeks and is coming again in August. Beth is taking an extension course in poultry husbandry from the Washington State College at Pullman and will go over for a week February 1 to get practical training. If Beth was only strong, she would be a wonder, but she can only endure so much. While I am so healthy as to be vulgar. Juanita is 12 and just entered the 7th grade. She is a campfire girl and is almost as tall as I. Junior is 8 and he was 18 months when I took him. He still calls me "Mama."

Beth's husband is a big, strong fellow 5 years older than Beth. Quick as a cat and there is nothing that he cannot do. He can repair [illegible] all kinds of machinery, and if he hasn't a tool, he will make one. And he is fine with animals. He is also a natural-born salesman and can make more money to work at that and keep a man on the farm. We attend to the chickens and the light work. Gather the eggs 3 times a day and feed the kale and grain, look after the mash hoppers, sour milk and water. In fact, we couldn't trust it to him to keep, for on these seemingly little things depend the profit. All of the spoiled eggs have to be cleaned with steel wool or washed. This takes 2 half-days a week.

I got a Kodak for Christmas, so will have some pictures to send. The one I am enclosing was the first one taken with it. The children can see just how Aunt Edna looks. Beth says it could not look more like me. This summer, I will take some and send you. Did I send you a picture of the house?

Ray, what farm do you live on? Who owned it 2 years ago? I do not dare to hope that I can go to Minnesota and see you all next fall, but if we have good help and Beth is really well and nothing comes up to prevent it, I think I will take a chance. However, it is too early yet to bank on it. I certainly should like to see the children. Emma wrote how fine-looking they were.

We just had the news of the death of Edwin Thatcher's wife in Jamesville. She died of that dreaded disease, cancer.

We entertained a house full of church ladies Wednesday. Yes, Ray, I am glad you went to church even once, as I think churches are for men as well as women and children and how fine it is for the whole family to go.

A neighbor came in last night and asked Betty whose girl she was. She said, "Daddy's." He said, "Won't you be my girl?" She said, "I can't love two men, and I must love my Daddy."

Chicken feeding time. Good bye. Write soon.

Edna

Letter from Dawson, Minnesota, December of 1916

Helen Van Amber, Helen Crandall, Florence Van Amber, Clarence Sieberg, Edna Van Amber

This is a letter from Rena, otherwise known as Katherine, originally born to Anton and Eliza Jane Udelhofen. If my math is right, she would have been about 21 years old when she wrote this, and it sounds like she was working as a housekeeper for a family, perhaps living with them as well as working for them. She may have been lucky to find any work at all, since the economy was so tight due to the ongoing war, and she sounds grateful for the opportunity in this letter.

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Dawson, Minnesota
December 10, 1916

Dear Sister:

I received both letters and also the card from you. Am well and hope you are all well. Was glad to hear you didn't have to have an operation. You will have to be careful when you have your tonsils out not to take cold.

Mrs. Hadly was good to care for the baby while you were away. I'll bet she is cute. Is she as good looking as your big daughter? I'll bet Helen is a little talker. Is Georgie getting to be a man now? No questions need be asked about Floyd, for we know he is a good little boy. Mrs. Sage says George perhaps is as nice as the rest, but she says Floyd was hers and she didn't care.

Well, Thanksgiving is over and will soon be Christmas again. We had a nice Thanksgiving dinner. Teddy was home. He is some guy.

I had a letter from Clara. She told me Michael Cahillo was dead. It's too bad. I feel sorry for them. The only boy and was getting big, too, but it was the Lord's wish, so it must be for the best.

I had a letter from Catherine the other day. She said Mrs. Champlin was sick in bed and has been for a month. I feel sorry for her, but am glad I am not there.

I am sending you my [illegible -- "comona" is what this word looks like]. I suppose you will laugh at me, but I never touched it since I was at your place. I thought you could make a nightgown or something for the children.

I am going home a week from Thursday. We are going to have a big dinner here next Saturday night, and a card party in the evening. The dinner will be given at 6 o'clock. Mrs. Sage doesn't go home anymore at Christmas time, so I won't have to keep house for Mister. He just loves to tease me and says I have been wearing his shoes this morning. And he teases about every old man around here, but you bet I get back at him.

I had just one tooth filled about a week ago and it cost me $3. Everything is so high and I don't know what we are all coming to. I hope we have better crops next year, and the war over too so it would seem as it used to.

Well, I will close for this time. If you write before the 20th, send it here but will be home after that.

Love to all from,
Rena  

Letter from Spokane, July of 1919

Regina and Roy Van Amber

This unusually long letter has some interesting details about some sort of impromptu adoption in the household. Sounds like this was part of the war effort, but I'm not sure how long these little ones ended up living in Spokane with the Thatchers, away from their blood relatives.

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Dear Brother and Sister:

Your card bearing a birthday greeting came today, and was the only one I have received. In fact, I had almost forgotten that I had a birthday or that 8 other members of the family have one this month. You know they say it is policy to forget our birthdays after reaching a certain age. I certainly should not know by my feelings that I was more than a kid, but my glass tells me that my hair is getting a little grey, a few wrinkles are coming and I am too fat to be taken for a 16 year old.

I am doing YWCA work for a couple of weeks, so have a little time to write between trains. I leave home at 5:30 and get to bed at 12 at night. We have had two of the hottest days for years, and I thought I should become a beautiful grease spot before I could get to the car.

Beth is home for vacation and is caring for the children when I am down here. You may have heard of my new family. I wrote about Isa, Geraldine age 8, Juanita age 5 1/2, Junior almost 20 months. Their names are Erdman and their mother died last February with influenza. I have had them since April 7. They had been only a year from Decatur, Illinois, and have no relatives. Were perfect strangers to me. I don't know just how they happened to come to my door, but they did and I took them in. This is part of the reconstruction work following the war, and I have the conveniences of health and a reasonable disposition for managing children and someone must do it. Why not I? With only 2 days notice and never dreaming of doing any such thing, of course it made me hustle to finish a baby bed and find a highchair, etc. But I am getting on fine and the father seems to appreciate the home he has found for them. The boy is so sweet, and good as can be, just learning to talk.

Roy, our soldier boy, landed in New York yesterday and will soon be home. Dick is coming up and we are all going camping for 2 weeks at Newman Lake. Went out last Sunday and rented a cottage with five beds in it, as there will be 9 of us and I am going to take the children. We want the baby for a plaything. I got him a little bathing suit and he looks too cute.

I owe everybody a letter, so am not getting any. Isa wrote how bad off Willie Harlot was. How terrible. I have not seen Emma for an age. I can't get up there very well with the children, and she does not get over. Herbert has a Ford, so he can take his mother out, and I am so glad. They are so comfortable and cozy. Herbert is good to his mother, unusually so, and gets good pay. He works for the RR Co. Claude lives near them.

Did you move from Will Hadley's farm, and where are you living? How much does Edna Beth weigh now?

Beth will teach at Hartline this year. It is 9 miles from Almira, where she taught last year. She has learned to drive an overland this summer and is in her glory. (The ink ran out of my pen so I had to use another).

My last train has just been marked up for an hour, so I shall not get home until morning. I just put two little girls on the train going from Portland to Ohio. Took a woman from Iowa to the W.Y., and have an Indian boy to look after. A lady was in just now who, with her husband and 3 children, had just arrived from Brainard, Minn., in a Chevrolet. Had quite a visit with her. The soldier boys that Beth has been playing big sister to are beginning to show up. [Illegible] was here and stayed a week, and a few days ago, another one Thomas Edward Drummod telegraphed that he had just landed in NY and would be in Spokane soon. So, you see Ray, what you are coming to with girls?

Well, Ray, this is your birthday letter, and I wish you many happy returns and must close for this time with much love to you all.

Sister, EMT