Sunday, February 9, 2014

Friday, March 3, 1944

The Navy courts were lacking in court reporters, and they Grandma's help.  They went through her commanding officer and requested her specifically.  Her Naval reputation is starting to proceed her.

"I have to be a court reporter today.  They are short on yeoman so they called my commander  asked if they could borrow me for 2 days.  I have never taken dictation like that but it will prove interesting.  You have to take down everything that is said & just as it is said."

Thinking of being a court reporter on a type writer where you do not have the capability to erase with the touch of a button cause me anxiety.  I never would have gotten through high school if I had to type all of my papers on a typewriter.  You can also forget about handwritten papers; my handwriting is still illegible.  

Flagler Gardens is the hottest place to shake it down.  This is the second weekend in a row that Grandma danced the night away in its halls.  Then her Miami life and her Missoula life collided on the dance floor.

"Last night I went dancing to Flagler Gardens & who should I see there but Raymond Pete. ... I went to high school & university with him. ... We were surely glad to see each other.  He is leaving Saturday for home."

WWII shrank the world in so many ways  Grandma was thousands of miles away from home and she still ran into a friend form Missoula.  The world shrank then and it keeps on shrinking.  Unfortunately so do Grandma's letters, as she says at the beginning of her letter:

"This is just going to be a line."

My line ends here.  Night y'all

No comments:

Post a Comment