My Dearest Margie: August 6, 1940

My Dearest Margie:

Well I guess this will be the last letter to reach you before you leave. That sure sounds good to me because it means the time is getting closer, although these last few days will seem like ages.

That's swell about your being able to stay with your friends. It will save you a lot of money and anything that will help to enable you to stay longer is great with  me. You can't stay long enough to suit me so why don't you just plan to live here until September and then travel along with me. (quit dreaming Hastings.) Then I wouldn't have to ever let you out of my sight. Darling I'm going nuts waiting these last few days. I can't even sit still. But don't worry about me not being able to get to the train because Al is planning on bringing me down.

I looked up your friends' address and they live on the next to last street in north Evanston. It's about 3 miles from where I live, but we shall figure out someway to close the gap. After 2,000 that seems only a hop and a jump. But I'm liable to be very selfish with you, and if they want you to spend some time with them they'll have to get an appointment from me. But all kidding aside I think it's swell for them to ask you to stay and I really appreciate their offering to take me to the train.

I finally got a letter from home. The reason it was so late was due to to the operation on my brother's eye and they were waiting to find out how it came out. It was a success and he's doing fine. I wrote them a letter today telling them about your coming so if you get a chance to get over and see them I know they would be delighted. I would too. I explained your trip the way you wanted me to, to them.

The weather back here is perfect now. It must know you are coming. Do you have as seat by the window? I know you shall enjoy the ride because it is very comfortable, or at least it was for me because I can sleep standing up if I'm tired. Watch the wolves on the train and if any of them bother you I shall fix him when he gets off, after I get through with more immediate business.

It's hard to write this letter because with you coming back I want to save everything for then.

It still doesn't seem possible and I probably won't believe it until I can feel you in my arms and hear you talk. I think we found out just an hour before I left and now that we have the chance to experience it back here where we don't have to worry about people timing is more than I could have ever hoped or. So if you feel like me, these last few days will seem like snails moving along. When I see you I'll probably be in a stupor and you'll have to knock it out of me and convince me it's really you.

We have a guest tonight for dinner and they're waiting for me again. So Darling I'll be anxiously waiting and counting the hours until I can take you in my arms and tell you I love you. So until that wonderful moment I can just send all of my love by Uncle Sam.

Always yours,

Jim