My sister and I found a large envelope of letters from my mom’s high school boyfriend while we were cleaning out her house to sell it. We started to read the letters while mom was still alive in a nursing home. We just could not do it. We felt like it was an invasion of her privacy. She had dementia. Sometimes she spoke of Louis like we should know him. Once she wanted to leave him a message over the phone.  She thought he needed to know where she went. Mama wanted to leave Daddy messages, too.  Both of them were gone by then. We just let her do whatever comforted her.

After Mama died, my sis and I were sorting contents of boxes we had moved from the homeplace to my sister’s house. Here was that envelope again. I opened it and started reading the letters outloud. Louis came to life right there in my sissy’s kitchen. His letters were full of what he was doing and what he was missing.

He was riding on a ship or a helicopter, hiking, digging foxholes, cleaning bunkers, standing watch, stringing barb wire and cleaning his rifle. He was missing deer season, trout season, football games and home.

His duty in 1951 took him to Kobe, Japan and then Pusan and Yanngu, South Korea. He describes the steep mountains and cold weather often.

He tells stories of a pesky mouse in his bunker that dropped things during the night. This caused some drama in the dark. There was also a lizard that drank coffee.

I have put the original letters, envelopes and photos in plastic sleeves and organized them in order in a big notebook. This treasure will be going to his daughter to be shared with her two brothers.

This young Marine was a great writer and storyteller. I see why my mom kept the letters for over seventy years. This is a window into the past of a nice person who ended up serving as a Marine for over thirty years.

I have always appreciated our military putting themselves in harm’s way. This is the first time I have closely considered their time away from friends and family, as well as the freedoms they give up to serve.

This young man missed his hometown, football games, hunting and fishing seasons, his family, his friends and my Mama.

Louis and Mama married other people, but they were great penpals for over three years. I doubt my Mama’s letters made all the moves of a Marine, but I am proud to give these to the children that missed precious time with their Marine father.

Thank you Louis.

FLOWER