This is a continued effort to transcribe my Mother’s 1942 Journal when she was 14-15 years old. She never imagined that it would become a part of the World Wide Web… (Nov 17, 1926-Jan 5, 2004) In honor of my mother.
|Betty Mae Peters-15 years old|
Page #52 (Bottom)
September 2, 1942
|Bottom of page 52|
Hello again! Yep your’s truly is still enjoying the wonders of 171 King St. Oh luck! Oh Joy! O happy day! I met Richard (Dickie) Holt. Let me tell you he’s one of the golden 10 out of every thousand. He’s 26 and I’m going on 16. Nevertheless….
…he’s got something there that I like and I’m going to do my best to be one of the golden 10 in his estimation. Whoa boy! Yesterday Uncle Ed took me down to spend the afternoon at his job. (He’s an insurance broker at the Springfield Fire and Marine Insurance Co.) Did I have fun. I wore my pink sharkskin with the stitched pockets and the pleated skirt. It was the first time I had ever been in the building when it was occupied with workers (though I’ve been there often after office hours). Uncle Ed introduced me to everyone as his daughter, but only two people (2 women) fell for it. The other’s knew better. I spent quite a while with….
…Miss Hampton at the “Women’s House.” We had fun. Nelson Bryant was all over the place. (He’s taking me to the show again Thursday.) I was sorry not to see the clown Otis summerville. He was away on vacation. All in all the day was one well spent. Uncle Ed and I had a ball.
P.S. I sighed longingly in the President’s lovely office. Someday I hope to have a big office and a secretary too, I hope, I hope. As evening came on Lensie called informing me that she and Arnie Cannon were coming over. Having met Arnett the night before & Having been rather impressed, I was quite happy. They came over here then we went to Lensie’s. And yes Gods!!!! What a juvenile…
..smoocher. He’s around eighteen or nineteen & just at the puppy love stage. I really believe that a girl fifteen is older than a boy eighteen.. He was naucious. Oh he wanted to mooch, and boogie and hold hands, and hug and kiss and carry on. Doesn’t he know that junk’s antiquated and out (but definitely out) of style as far as I’m concerned. By 13 or fourteen I would have been thrilled to pieces, but now going on 16, I’m looking for higher standards of co-ed companionship. This “Hello messy, let’s get groovey?” stuff has got to go and so will Mr. Cannon (at least till he grows up.) I still crown Earl & Dickie as the best. They’re intelligent! Thank God!
Page #56 Top
|Page 56 Top|
Aunt Ivy has a boarder, namely Myrtle Gaines (Who’s a blip). We don’t know whether she’s a dope fiend or just a happy little moron, but something tells me (no matter what she is) that she won’t stay here long.
Saw Herbert Wilkins again in church. Then he dropped by. Too bad he’s marrying Rita & I’m not about 8 or 9 years older. Well so long, pal.