Every time I continue to transcribe my mother’s journal, I learn more about her as a child growing up in Harlem, NY. I also have realized that the amount of journaling does not matter, it is the fact that one does journal at all is what counts. I hope to leave something for my children and the next generations to read…and I feel that starting with my mom’s papers is a great beginning.
To read other posts of journal Day #1 Day #2 Day #3 Day #4 Day #5 Day #6 & 7 Day #8
|Betty Peters & Unknown Boy|
Tuesday, August 25, 1942
I’d better make this short because I don’t have much time. I’m up in Springfield, Mass. for the first time in 3 years. I’m sitting on the porch. I have just finished writing 3 letters. One to Mommie (telling her that Ruthie can’t come up with her this weekend.) One to Ernestine Reynolds (Who is now at Camp Atwater and whose picture along with Louise Shaw’s and many others appeared in the Springfield Union Sunday) and one to Ear Miller (A very promising fellow whom I met about 3 weeks ago at the Cosmopolitan Tennis club’s 1st Annual Dance). Sunday I met Rev. Herbert Wilkins whose going to marry Rita Davis. He’s swell. So’s she. Jennie? is being like a sister to me. She’s just…
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…swell. She’s told me about lots of people. I have met a portion of the Edmonds Family and also Coolerige Breathweight also plays the organ beautifully. I have not met Buddy, Lenny, Hal, Lucious, Lindsay nor Billy Gardner (Remember him). Tonight I’m going to the show with Nelson Bryant. He’ll do in a rush. Oh I shouldn’t say that. He’s nice. Well so long till the next time.
© Yvette Porter Moore-All Rights Reserved