up with a cat instead.
Tomorrow is Independence Day. I wonder what they are doing in Zumbrota.
Love,
Isabelle Anderson
July 4, 1944
Dear Papa,
Did you see the fireworks in heaven? We stayed up until dark and Mr. Frank lit sparklers in the backyard. We were going to go to his family picnic today but Mama didn’t feel good.
Happy Birthday to the United States of America.
Love,
Isabelle Anderson
July 5, 1944
Dear Papa,
Guess who is going to have a baby?!
From,
Isabelle Anderson
July 6, 1944
Dear Papa,
Will Mama still want us here when Mr. Frank is the papa of this baby?
From,
Isabelle Anderson
July 7, 1944
Dear Papa,
Will the new baby be Catholic or Lutheran? When we all die, will the baby go to heaven like us? Aunt Izzy doesn’t seem to know for sure.
Still hot,
Isabelle Anderson
July 8, 1944
Dear Papa,
The baby will come at Christmastime. That’s a long time for Mama to be tired. She’s tired, Papa, but this time her spirits are high.
Aunt Izzy is helping me with the book about you. She said there were quite a few things that weren’t exactly right but that I could leave it as it is and just call it Historical Fiction. That sounds like it should go in a library so I am going to continue. We are adding a chapter about the shenanigans you pulled as a boy. I am letting her write that one. I asked Mama if I could interview her for the “Courting, Marriage, and Early Years of Family Life” chapter but she said that book’s been written, read, and put on the shelf. I’ll have to look for it. Ian is getting to be a good artist like Jimmy so I asked him to make lots of drawings. I am even letting him use some of the new pencils that came with my birthday pack of paper. I hope we see the nun again so I can show her the completed book.
From,
Who else?
July 13, 1944
Dear Papa,
The train took Aunt Izzy away today. It was all packed with servicemen going to meet Uncle Sam. They were hanging out of the windows in their sailor hats. Their duffel bags were crowding the floor. There almost wasn’t room for her.
I had just gotten used to having Aunt Izzy comb my hair and stir up the talk at dinner and now she’s gone. Who will play cribbage with me? She left her board here. She was going to leave Mr. Right, too, but when she heard our history with pets she decided to let us visit him instead. Mama and Aunt Izzy hugged and hugged today. Mama cried. I want to tie a string on the wrists of all my favorite people and tie them all to my wrist. Going to the bathroom would be a problem.
The baby will be Mr. Frank’s real child and Mama’s real child but my half brother or sister. Will the baby be related to you at all? I should have asked Aunt Izzy before she left.
With love,
Isabelle V. Anderson
July 14, 1944
Dear Papa,
Seven weeks until school starts.
“Why don’t you get out and play with some neighborhood children?” Mama asks.
I believe I will.
On my way out,
Isabelle
July 15, 1944
Dear Papa,
I led Ian and Ida on an adventure today to stay out of Mama’s way. We walked twice all the way around the block and drew a map of where the houses are and which ones we think have children. Then we picked out one where the children were outside and walked on up.
We met Sylvia, Betty, and Shirley — named after Shirley Temple — ten, eight, and six. Their house looks all-covered-in-vines spooky and they said it is spooky inside, too, except they are used to it. Probably ghosts live on the third floor, Betty said.
“Ha!” said Ian.
“We’ll show you,” said Shirley, and they did. We didn’t see any ghosts and didn’t hear any either but we pretended we were hiding out from Nazis. Ian was the air raid warden. Then we played we were orphans. They had never met any stepchildren before or anyone whose father died of an allergic reaction or ran a filling station. They go to private school.
We’re going back to their house tomorrow.
From,
Isabelle
July 20, 1944
Dear Eleanor,
Hi! How
Tomorrow is Independence Day. I wonder what they are doing in Zumbrota.
Love,
Isabelle Anderson
July 4, 1944
Dear Papa,
Did you see the fireworks in heaven? We stayed up until dark and Mr. Frank lit sparklers in the backyard. We were going to go to his family picnic today but Mama didn’t feel good.
Happy Birthday to the United States of America.
Love,
Isabelle Anderson
July 5, 1944
Dear Papa,
Guess who is going to have a baby?!
From,
Isabelle Anderson
July 6, 1944
Dear Papa,
Will Mama still want us here when Mr. Frank is the papa of this baby?
From,
Isabelle Anderson
July 7, 1944
Dear Papa,
Will the new baby be Catholic or Lutheran? When we all die, will the baby go to heaven like us? Aunt Izzy doesn’t seem to know for sure.
Still hot,
Isabelle Anderson
July 8, 1944
Dear Papa,
The baby will come at Christmastime. That’s a long time for Mama to be tired. She’s tired, Papa, but this time her spirits are high.
Aunt Izzy is helping me with the book about you. She said there were quite a few things that weren’t exactly right but that I could leave it as it is and just call it Historical Fiction. That sounds like it should go in a library so I am going to continue. We are adding a chapter about the shenanigans you pulled as a boy. I am letting her write that one. I asked Mama if I could interview her for the “Courting, Marriage, and Early Years of Family Life” chapter but she said that book’s been written, read, and put on the shelf. I’ll have to look for it. Ian is getting to be a good artist like Jimmy so I asked him to make lots of drawings. I am even letting him use some of the new pencils that came with my birthday pack of paper. I hope we see the nun again so I can show her the completed book.
From,
Who else?
July 13, 1944
Dear Papa,
The train took Aunt Izzy away today. It was all packed with servicemen going to meet Uncle Sam. They were hanging out of the windows in their sailor hats. Their duffel bags were crowding the floor. There almost wasn’t room for her.
I had just gotten used to having Aunt Izzy comb my hair and stir up the talk at dinner and now she’s gone. Who will play cribbage with me? She left her board here. She was going to leave Mr. Right, too, but when she heard our history with pets she decided to let us visit him instead. Mama and Aunt Izzy hugged and hugged today. Mama cried. I want to tie a string on the wrists of all my favorite people and tie them all to my wrist. Going to the bathroom would be a problem.
The baby will be Mr. Frank’s real child and Mama’s real child but my half brother or sister. Will the baby be related to you at all? I should have asked Aunt Izzy before she left.
With love,
Isabelle V. Anderson
July 14, 1944
Dear Papa,
Seven weeks until school starts.
“Why don’t you get out and play with some neighborhood children?” Mama asks.
I believe I will.
On my way out,
Isabelle
July 15, 1944
Dear Papa,
I led Ian and Ida on an adventure today to stay out of Mama’s way. We walked twice all the way around the block and drew a map of where the houses are and which ones we think have children. Then we picked out one where the children were outside and walked on up.
We met Sylvia, Betty, and Shirley — named after Shirley Temple — ten, eight, and six. Their house looks all-covered-in-vines spooky and they said it is spooky inside, too, except they are used to it. Probably ghosts live on the third floor, Betty said.
“Ha!” said Ian.
“We’ll show you,” said Shirley, and they did. We didn’t see any ghosts and didn’t hear any either but we pretended we were hiding out from Nazis. Ian was the air raid warden. Then we played we were orphans. They had never met any stepchildren before or anyone whose father died of an allergic reaction or ran a filling station. They go to private school.
We’re going back to their house tomorrow.
From,
Isabelle
July 20, 1944
Dear Eleanor,
Hi! How
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