June 8, 1944: Opa's Vacation

Letter from Opa to Grandmother, June 8, 1944.

Transcription:

Public Correspondence

Young Men's Christian Association

404 East Tenth Street * Kansas City, Missouri

Tuesday afternoon.

Dearest,

I took this afternoon off for a little vacation and went down to Swope Park. There is a nice little lake here, called the Lagoon, with boats for rent. I took one for an hour, and now, after having rowed some blisters on my hands, I am resting and reading "Jane Eyre." It is pretty here, awfully pretty. I am sitting underneath a willow tree, and its leaves are touching the water. Small hills with little forests in all shades of green are across the lake, and the water sounds so harmonious and peaceful; just like in the old days. If you were here now too, happiness would be perfect.

I sent you the silver set today; there are 34 pieces, a set for 8, and nicer than I had first thought. It cost 15.25; I enclose a money order for the balance. They apparently had quite a number of these sets, but they are selling fast. You can send it back if your folks don't like it.

What time of night did you get in that the house was locked? Don't they have bells at that place, or were you too embarrassed to ring? Anyhow, at a time like that you should go to a hotel, if only to a "Gladstone."

I finally found a pretty good ping pong set for Herb and Marianne and sent it to Des Moines. Hope that will induce him to write a letter to us.

It's awfully sultry tonight, I think there will be a thunderstorm.

No mail today, except your letter. I wished something would happen. Be a good girl and get in in time tonight, the way I do!

Love, 

Tom.

Opa took the day off. His June 7th letter spoke of how tired he was, how his sleep was restless because of his thinking about the war and D-day. So today, he took the day off, and he did it in style.

He meandered to Swope Park, which is where the Kansas City Zoo is. At the time, I'm not sure how large the zoo was (it was open), or if the lake was a separate section. The lake is a little circular lake, and from pictures it does look lovely. 

Opa spent time on his father's sailboat as a child (likely on the rivers that run through Berlin) and at the beach on the north shore of Germany. For him, water was a familiar and good feeling "just like the old days." The Nazis rendered the beach unwelcoming, and I'm sure his days on the sailboat were fewer as his parents separated, and then none when his Dad moved to Amsterdam. 

But the good memories had water: quiet, peaceful, harmonious. Opa reconnected with that feeling, treating himself to a rowboat for an hour, and then reclining under a tree with a book. You can tell what the experience did for his spirit just by the tone of his letter. 

He's found a moment of peace. 

Sometimes we need a vacation, but it doesn't have to look like a fancy hotel or big trip. We just need to reconnect with the sounds, smells, and views that speak peace to our souls. 

For Opa, that's water and the willow tree with leaves reaching down. Don't forget the good book. That all sounds pretty good to me, actually.

June 7, 1944: Invasive Dreams

Letter from Opa to Grandmother, June 7, 1944.

Transcription:

Public Correspondence

Young Men's Christian Association

401 East Tenth Street * Kansas City, Missouri

Honey, dear,

This is going to be a short letter, because I am awfully tired today. I didn't sleep very well last night; kept dreaming about that darn invasion.

Tell Mrs. Frazen she is nuts. You don't have to give her a day's notice before leaving, as long as you pay your room rent for one more month. That might be different in the nursery school; you will have to find out. I am awfully glad you are planning on coming this weekend; let me know whether you come by bus or train, what time you get here, and, if by bus, what bus line you take. They don't all arrive at the same depot.

No mail today, except your letter. Still no permission to go to K.C. I can't just go up and tell them the situation, because the U.S. Attorney to whom I report is in Topeka, and not here. If I don't get answer by the end of the week, though, I'll write to him.

I bet you have been busy without Mrs. Jones; is she back now? How are the brats? The darn viper of yours still alive? That girl from your hoe town is at least some company for you. Thanks for drawing her picture for me. She looks like your twin sister.

Good night, dear:

Tom.

Better find another mail box. Your letter, written June 5, was stamped 530pm, June 6. They may have a mail box in Lawrence that is taken out more than once a week.

Opa was right, it's not a long letter with not too much said. He's still waiting on word of whether he can work in his field and not at a restaurant. 

Opa said he was tired because his sleep was interrupted by dreams of "that darn invasion." I can only imagine. I know that now in this pandemic, my sleep has been more haphazard and my dreams more bizarre. I even have moments in my dream when my brain is just awake enough to say "wait, we shouldn't be here! We should be social distancing!" And then I wake up instead of enjoying a benign dream about a backyard BBQ. 

I can't imagine what Opa's dreams were.

June 6, 1944: Apathy

Letter from Opa to Grandmother, June 6, 1944, D-Day.

Transcription:

Public Correspondence

Young Men's Christian Association

404 East Tenth Street * Kansas City, Missouri

D-day.

Margie, dear,

Well, finally. I got two letters from you this afternoon; one you wrote June 2nd, and one from June 5th. I don't know where the first one was all that time, but not at the K.C. post office. I would have called you had I not heard from you today, for I was a little worried.

What do you think about the news? I was just terrible nervous all day. I read the Times in the morning, which gave just the first communiques, and I couldn't find out a thing until in the afternoon when I got off work. At the restaurant, they were so damn disinterested, I just burned up. Even now, I am so excited, that I go down every half an hour to buy the extras. Things look all right so far, but the Germans may use the same tactics as at Anzio and answer with the counteroffensives after bridgeheads are established. Probably, right now or pretty soon landings are being made in Belgium, Holland, or even further east.

I saw Winton last night, for an hour. He was on his way to Fort Leonard Wood, where he will be stationed now. It's a shame, just now where I am in Kansas City. We had hardly any time together, since Winton had to stay in contact with the other members of his squadron. We went to a bar, and Winton and I managed to sit a little off side the rest of the boys, so that we got at least some of the most important things talked out. If we only had known what would happen a few hours from then...

Still no permit from my attorney, but somebody from the 7th Service Command was in Manhattan, inquiring about me and checking on some of the references I gave. He seemed rather surprised not to find me there. I hope it won't have any bearing on the outcome of may application.

Another possibility for a job came up through another employment agency. I am through with those agencies, though, and won't even go for an interview unless the present chances are out. My preference at the time is National Geophysical, if they offer anything like they did when I interviewed them. I hope something turns up in the near future, for I don't care a bit for the atmosphere at the Fairfax Restaurant. It's just a little wilder than the Wareham. Fairfax is an industrial district, and the kind of people that work there are not of the best. The surplus of girls is dangerous and so strong that the waitresses flirt even with the negroes, but at times get downright vulgar with the few of us white boys left. Anyhow, I'll be glad when something else turns up.

So far, I haven't found anybody to pal around with here; the boys who stay at the Y are awfully young. Also, I don't have much time, since I have to go to bed pretty early to be in good shape when I get up at five in the morning.

Be sure to come up next weekend!

Yours, forever: 

Tom

Something I have learned (to my surprise, though I shouldn't have been), is that even if a person has been the victim of racism, misjudgment, and persecution, it does not mean that they will automatically be immune to being racist, judgmental, or persecutor. 

Opa is a German, Jewish refugee and he still considers himself to be higher in the social hierarchy than Black people.  It's pretty damning. 

Opa had never seen a Black person until he came to the United States. He wrote about it in his autobiography, and how foreign the racial situation of the United States were to him. Opa was not blatantly racist, in the sense that he did not advocate for harm or disenfranchisement of the Black community. However, when plopped down into the middle of the US, he easily adopted the hierarchy that had him higher. 

In case anyone wants to say that he didn't know any better, trust me, I would love to be able to let him off the hook. But I can't. In his Quaker youth group, he studied about the racism problems in South Africa. He had been a victim (and seen the real manifestation in his country) of racism against Jews. He had the tools and information to know better. It just didn't benefit him to know better. This is how it works even today, white people like myself aren't "blatantly" racist, but there are spaces when we fail to combat racism because it doesn't benefit us to do so. We have to do better.

The irony in this letter is a bit on the nose, but I won't let it lose the point. At the same moment when Opa makes an off-hand comment about waitresses "even flirting" with the Black patrons of the restaurant, he is also complaining that no one seems to care that there is a literal fight for the future of the world happening on the shores of Western Europe. 

His frustration is valid! The oblivious Americans who are so uninformed as to be apathetic, they need a gut-check too. Perhaps if they had cared more about world events there would have been a viable diplomatic response after the First World War. Perhaps not. 

But what Opa is lamenting is this: apathy. Particularly apathy towards things that affect people in such vast and severe ways. Opa has shown his own blind eye to the plight of the Black community in America. He reveals the American blind spots of world events. We Americans are still culturally very bad at caring about things that happen far away from us. (And unfortunately, sometimes very far isn't far at all.) We have an apathy problem. I don't think we're the only ones with this problem, but we're pretty knee-deep in it.

D-Day was a turning point in the war, a time when perhaps more of America was paying attention and hoping that the end of the war would be soon. D-Day was the beginning of liberation for Western Europe. For Opa, D-Day was the first possibility in a long time of his Dad to be out from under Nazi rule. It was the first real indicator of whether the Allied forces could truly defeat the Nazis (and other Axis powers). He was paying attention.

May 29, 1944: Immigration Journey Continued

Letter from A.W. Klieforth, American Consul in Canada (Manitoba), to Opa, May 29, 1944.

Transcription:

The Foreign Service 

of the

United States of America

American Consulate General

Winnipeg, Manitoba,

May 29, 1944.

Mr. Thomas W. Doeppner,

1011 Moro Street, 

Manhattan, Kansas.

Sir:

The Consulate General has received your letter of May 24, 1944, stating that you have filed application for pre-examinaton with the Immigration and Naturalization Service at Philadelphia and requesting to be advised of the necessary documents in order to make formal application for an immigration visa.

There is enclosed an information sheet listing the documentary requirements for an immigration visa and a questionnaire which should be completed and returned to this office.

While no assurance can be given that a visa will be issued prior to the applicant's personal appearance at the Consulate General, documentary evidence may be sent by mail for preliminary examination and you will be informed if they are sufficient and satisfactorily. 

Very truly yours,

A.W. Klieforth

American Consul General

Enclosures:

Information sheet,

Visa questionnaire.

Here we go, another attempt towards becoming an American citizen, a journey Opa has been on since he arrived in 1939. He was shuffled between temporary visas, with large gaps in between when he had no legal status at all.

This time is similar to times in the past when he applied for pre-examination at the American Consul in Canada. The plan would be for him to cross the border, apply and receive the visa and then enter the United States on a regular immigration visa, the first step on a long journey towards naturalization.

Will it happen this time?

May 27, 1944: Sunflower Plant Plans

Letter from Opa to Grandmother, May 27, 1944.

Transcription:

Manhattan, Kansas

May 27, 1944

Dearest Margie,

I guess this will be my last letter to you, at least before you get to Lawrence; for this reason, I shall make it reasonably comprehensive.

To begin with, I would like to express my sincere gratitude for the honor of having my name dedicated to those lovely creature of the pig house. You don't know how much I appreciate that. By the way, are you sure they were al of the proper sex? I don't believe that a lady would appreciate the handle "Thomas IV." (You might change it to "Thomasine.")

If I ever was so inspired it was last night. Missing the 7:10 mail in Aggieville by about a half a block, I, after the proper amount of god-bless-you's, went downtown. Ruthy had my bike, so I had to walk. And whom did I meet but our beloved friend Mrs. Paustian. We walked and she talked all the way to town, where she went in order to buy some beds at some auction (to have 100% single beds.) She was just as friendly as during the first days of last year's summer school, asked all about you and me and why and how. Downtown, I stopped to talk to a bible-school student for a while and then, when I decided it is more than time to go home, I met Bob Seaton. We went to a drug store and argued till eleven o'clock, got thrown out, and kept arguing outside till after midnight. The topics were extremely interesting and of major importance: first we argued about whether a person's IQ depends solely on his hereditary quality, or whether environment can influence it. After this problem was solved (?), we somehow or other switched to Einstein and discussed the question whether or not the Doppler Effect is in contradiction to Einstein's theory of relativity and the Lorentz transformation. Just what is your opinion on the matter?

Among other things, I made a very unpleasant discovery today: I shall have to work ten more hours in the library after Monday. Somehow, I had miscounted my time.

No word from either RCA nor Kansas City yet, but I didn't really expect any yet anyhow. I might decide to take a job at the Sunflower Plant in Topeka until I hear something definite from Kansas City. That won't be much farther from Lawrence than K.C., would it? Sunflower Plant offers good wages on an hourly basis, that means I could quit any time I got the job in K.C. or in the East.

Most of today, besides taking my yearly scrub, was spent packing. All my books are stored away in boxes, and so are the major part of my clothes. If you now some Boy Scout who hunts old paper and magazine, tell him there is a gold pit on Moro St. I never knew I had that much junk ready for the incinerator.

Jim Logan went to Leavenworth, doing his darnedest to get into the Navy; he is color-blind though and will have to go to the army. Too, too bad.

Today I'll make that 7:10 mailman, by cracky!!

Love, 

Tom

P.S. I bought a special Parker-51 ink for my fountain pen; it's just marvelous; dries instantly and is almost readable.

First things first: in the pen collecting world: the Parker-51 maintains its legacy (both the pen and the ink) as one of the most popular pens/ink made. Opa wasn't the only one impressed.

Moving along to Opa's letter. I love Opa, I really do, but my goodness he's a little smug. I know he's trying to be funny and I'm sure Grandmother took it as such. However, I rolled my eyes at his monologue about all the intellectual arguments he got into with his friend Bob, and then the ending when he asks Grandmother what her opinion is on the Einstein discussion. Obviously she doesn't know (nor does she care), and he's sort of teasing her about that. 

At the same time, how much more "American College experience" can you get? This is the time and space for hours long discussions on theories and whatever else floats your boat. There is nothing wrong with that (I think it is good!). Just maybe don't flaunt your knowledge to someone who isn't in your major. We all have our spheres. 

Opa is making plans (or trying) and packing for a move that he does not yet know the destination. He's hoping to hear from one of the major corporations who have expressed interest in him despite his German-ness. In the meantime he has a lead with the Sunflower Plant. 

Here's what it looked like in 2015. In 1941, when it was built, it was the largest smokeless powder plant. Opa says the plant paid decently and hourly, so it was a great back-up plan for him until he heard from the other companies. It's a good plan. 

Opa has gotten use to making it work and flying by the seat of his pants. Only now he has Grandmother as a nice companion for the ride. 

We'll see how it goes! 

May 26, 1944: Jittery

Letter from Opa to Grandmother, May 26, 1944.

Transcription: 

Kansas State College

Manhattan, Kansas

May 26, 1944

My dear little Monkeytail,

I am glad you are kept busy at home; it keeps you out of mischief and from thinking too much. I hope the pigs enjoyed seeing you in your pigtails; did anybody else?

All quiet on the Manhattan front; no more news from either the immigration officials or any of the companies. I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do after my library work is over if I haven't heard from either company yet; probably service radios, either here or in Kansas City. One thing I am going to do, though, is start packing today. Your bad example convinced me that this might be a good thing to do. I'll dig up some card-board boxes some place and pack my books. By the way, try to get some lumber for your file cases in Selden; when I asked for it here I had the same result as though I had asked for silk hosiery.

I read some of Dorothy Parker's short stories last night; they are asinine, but not as bad as I thought they would be. One of them pictures a couple in that precarious situation after the wedding ceremony, but before the wedding night. If you are going to act the way that girl acted, I'm going to sing you a song for every meal. Remind me that I show you that story when you are here.

Are you still afraid of catching the Measles? Our neighbor boy got them now; please do not tell Sophie about it; she will have me put in jail for contaminating the whole damn town. I saw her the other day, and she gave me that happy-go-lucky smile, as though she thought, "thank God that's over with now."

Three and a half more days, and that 4:00am train gets here. Are you sure it won't be late? It better not! Did you write Mrs. Polson when you are coming, or are you not planning on staying there? If you want me to, I'll dig up some dinner invitations for us for Tuesday and Wednesday, but we'll probably prefer to have that time for ourselves. Anything special you want to do those days?

I'm kind of jittery these days; I think invasion may be coming up this or next week end, but I'm not going to bet on it. Quit picking your face! Quit scratching them mosquito & chigger bites!

Hugs,

Tom.

I keep being reminded of the strange ability we have as humans to hold the mundane and everyday life in one hand and the drama of the world in the other. D-day is around the corner, everyone knows it. It's just a matter of when and how successful it is. And yet, Opa is in Kansas, packing up and preparing to move on to his next thing after his library job is up. He's getting ready for a visit from Grandmother and reading short stories by Dorothy Parker.

I kind of agree with Opa, Dorothy Parker's short stories feel asinine, but I think that's her point. The wedding night story is a series of circular arguments between a newly wed couple who can't really believe they just got married and clearly have not learned how to communicate as a couple yet. They both take everything the other says in the worst way, and nit-pic and fight about it. When Opa said he would sing Grandmother a song if she acted that way, he was being funny because he wasn't a good singer. 

I don't know how Opa isn't more nervous about his job prospects, but his optimism seems to be keeping him afloat. I don't know what happened between Opa and Sophie, but Sophie clearly does not like Opa, and he does not seem to like her. I wonder if there was some animosity towards Opa fro folks who were uncomfortable with his German-ness. At Kansas State, the college doesn't have quite the same investment and intimate knowledge of Opa that McPherson had. Opa is just another foreign student. At McPherson he was their foreign student that they rescued. Especially now that the United States is in the thick of the war, anti-German sentiment must be at an all-time high.

I wonder what Opa is feeling under those jitters about the coming invasion. Is he thinking of his family? I can't imagine he isn't. He ends by fussing at Grandmother not to pick her face. I'm sure it's a joke, and it reminds me of what his step-mother Emma would say to him. She said this to "help" him keep from getting acne. I don't think he loved it.

Jittery is about right when there's a chance that the war will shift in such a way that could change everything, and potentially give him news about his family. Good or bad.

May 25, 1944: A Pound of TNT

Letter from Opa to Grandmother, May 25, 1944.

Transcription:

Margie, dear, 

I thought that one of the few advantages of your absence would be an increase in the amount of sleep I get, but somehow or another, this is not so. Last night, after typing letters for a couple of hours, I got tired of watching that typewriter ribbon spin around its axis, so I took out for a show; went down to the State, threw my legs over the seat in front of me, and watched four gangsters kill four other gangsters, with a bunch of private detectives imitating Dick Tracy. 

I don't like the way you treat our good friend, Euphrosine. In the first place, Euphrosine is a female name, and you should therefore call her "she;" in the second place, I don't believe that one ant is sufficient in vitamin B for her, and, last not least, in the third place a worm spelled with an "e" has not nearly the nutritive value as a worm spelled with an "o." 

News is rather scarce these days; eight hours in the library do not furnish a fraction of the excitement that eight seconds with Marjorie do. These days, we are getting volumes ready for the bindery; a monotonous occupation with definite lunatic tendencies.

I am so glad you can get here a little early. I shall try to get my work in the library over with, so that we have all Tuesday and Wednesday together. You will probably have to leave sometime around noon on Wednesday, won't you? 

If RCA should really make me another offer, I shall go east, at least to see what it is all about. They will furnish transportation and hotel expenses on the way up, so there won't be any risk in it. If I should go though, I would plan to be prepared to stay. However, the Kansas City job is still very definitely among the possibilities. I wish somebody would throw a pound of TNT into the pants of whoever is working on my permit. It's ten after seven, time for the mailman in Aggieville. 

Lots of love, honey:

 Tom.

I have been looking back at older letters from 1940, and I know that he no longer has communication with most of the people he wrote then. He no longer even knows for certain who is alive. But yet, he still has many letters to write, the two hours he mentioned were probably to the INS and the places he applied for jobs. 

I wonder if he's keeping up with friends from McPherson and the few folks he knows from his family connections in the US. Either way, he still writes away. I love his impression of the Western movie he saw- it sounds about like most western movies.

He still has the energy to tease Grandmother about the mouse he has named (I'm assuming it's a mouse). 

He would much rather spend time with Grandmother than watch westerns or do tedious library work, but he has to keep at it so that he can get the job he needs!

I reminded myself that RCA and other companies that Opa was applying with for jobs, had much of their work involved in the war effort. That proved to be particularly tricky for Opa, as many companies either would not hire foreigners (as a policy), or had to go through a process of getting permission to hire one. Not only was Opa a foreigner, he was the worst type. What company would go out of their way to hire him?

This is a big bummer since Opa's skills and training (education) are in areas that are all pretty much tied up in the war effort right now. There was no avoiding it. 

Opa remains optimistic, and notes that the RCA might throw him a bone and pay his way to the East Coast to check things out (maybe an interview?). Opa is ready to make it a move if he can. Was Grandmother ready to move with him? He didn't seem to make any mention of that, but he did say that the Kansas City job was still a possibility, so maybe that was his way of showing her he was trying to stay in Kansas.

I love the expression "throw a pound of TNT into the pants..." I'm going to use that some day.