January 1, 1968: Party Pooper

Letter postmarked January 4, 1968 (Part 3):

This part of the January 4 letter covers Sunday, December 31, 1967 and Monday, January 1, 1968. (New Year's Eve and New Year's Day.)

Sunday we went to Knott's Berry Farm. The girls wanted to go to Disneyland, but there just wasn't time - I had to be home by 7 o'clock to get ready for our New Year's party. The girls were supposed to meet us at a certain time and Mary just turned them loose. (Yes! I kept David Wayne with us.) Well, they didn't show up until about 40 minutes after the appointed time which made everything very rushed for me (like I didn't have time to change clothes, comb my hair, or put on lipstick for the party.) But our day at Knott's was a lot of fun and we even had one of those chicken dinners out there - delicious again!

[Yet another trip to Knott's Berry Farm. Here's a fuzzy picture of Dad and Cliff sitting with some women other than their wives.]

[And here is a picture of me standing next to a snowman that probably wasn't made out of real snow. This is one of those rare photos in which my clothes appear to fit and you can't see that growing belly of mine.]

[Before we cover the New Year's Eve party at our apartment, here is a picture of all of the guests except one, I think.]

[The people in the back row are Cliff, Suzie Dirr, Gene Dirr, Hartford (Christmas Eve guest), Barbara Hansen (red dress), and Erland Hansen. The people in the front row are Ginger and Lynn (Cliff's stepdaughters), and Mary (Cliff's wife). I'm pretty sure Hartford's girlfriend was there, too, because in the same area of the photo album there is a picture of him and his girlfriend sitting on our couch, and she isn't mentioned in the letter describing Christmas Eve.]

[In that group photo it looks like Erland may be holding a camera in his left hand. The table is set up for serving a lot of food, so I'm sure everyone had a great time.]

Now for the party, which was a complete bust!

[Well, maybe everyone didn't have a great time.]

Mary allowed her girls to stay up for the whole thing and they were so loud and silly that they were the whole party, much to everyone's disgust (except Gene and Suzie). I've never seen kids behave in such a manner and get by with it. To top that - The Dirrs brought their puppy.

[Oh good, a one-bedroom apartment with 13 people milling about, plus a puppy that isn't housebroken. Let the fun begin!]

We couldn't believe it. After several new puddle circles on our rug and shooing it away from hosiery, I blew! I told (not asked) Gene to take the damn pup home and not bring it back. Dave backed me up all the way, bless his heart. Does that sound like me? Gene took the pup home, but unfortunately, he and Suzie stayed - she in my bathroom crying and he making a general nuisance of himself. As I said before, the girls and the Dirrs were so loud and silly that no one else could talk. That was our party - "The Sandbox Crowd." Everyone stayed until midnight and we ate (food was good - ham, potato salad, black-eyed peas, cornbread) then all left and I didn't blame them one bit.

Monday morning I just said, "To hell with it!" I stayed in bed until 10 o'clock, fixed only coffee for breakfast (except the girls and David Wayne had Toast'Em Pop-Ups), and I wrapped up ham, bread and potato salad for them to eat and just sent them on their merry way. The rest of the day was spent with relaxing and just talking, talking, talking.

[Can you tell Mom was a little upset? That late trip to the airport on Christmas Day made it the best Christmas ever, and now the puppy and the loud young girls made it the best New Year's Eve ever. I bet Mom and Dad breathed a huge sigh of relief when our company left.]

[This concludes Part 3 of the January 4 letter. I'll post the 4th and final part on January 4.]

December 26, 1967: The Unexpected Guest

Letter postmarked December 28, 1967 (dated December 26) (Part 2):

Here's Part 2 of the letter Mom started writing the day after Christmas in 1967. Today we'll cover the Saturday and Sunday before Christmas Day.

We just rested most of the day Saturday and about 9:30 that night Hartford Jenkins came. Now, Hartford is another Texas examiner - the fat one that Linda Kay and I do not like. He comes to Los Angeles all the time and has many friends here. Since Dave is very fond of Hartford, he invited him to come eat with us Sunday. I was nervous about cooking my first turkey and dressing and I sure hadn't planned on company, but what could I say?

[I remember Hartford from a few times when he came to our house in Texas. He was a really big guy, especially considering what was "normal" in 1967. I'd describe him as the stereotypical jolly, cigar-smoking fat man. Give him a long white beard and a red hat and he's Santa Claus. Here's a picture of him standing next to me and the Santa pinata that night.]

[You can't help but feel a little sorry for Mom for finding out less than 24 hours before her first big holiday meal that there is an extra mouth to feed, it's somebody she doesn't particularly care for (unbeknownst to me until I read this letter), and this person apparently likes to eat. A lot.]

I cooked most of the day Sunday and we ate around five o'clock. My "first dinner" was a gigantic success - please don't think I'm conceited because no one was more surprised than I.

Dave and Hartford both said that it was the best dressing they had ever eaten - what's more they both ate enough to make me believe they meant it! Everything turned out delicious and Dave was so proud of me and Hartford bragged so that I felt like a queen. Here's what we had: Turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes, giblet gravy, fresh green beans (the kind you start snapping at the break of dawn), fresh corn (cut off the cob), fruit salad with whipped cream dressing, hot sourdough rolls, and for dessert (that no one could eat until the next day), pumpkin pie and whipped cream. Calories! I know it was just beginner's luck, but the turkey was juicy, dressing moist, everything turned out well and I am so proud. David Wayne ate so much turkey that I expected him to "gobble, gobble" and Dave has eaten more dressing than any four men could.

[Here's a picture of Dad carving the turkey while I'm chowing down on the drumstick.]

[Here's a picture of me, Mom and Hartford sitting at the table with the meal Mom prepared. Yes, I'm still working on that drumstick.]

[I'm really glad the meal turned out well for Mom, especially with the last-minute guest. She was obviously a little nervous about it in the weeks leading up to it, based on the previous letters.]

[We'll conclude Part 2 of this letter here. Part 3 will cover the remainder of Christmas Eve and then Christmas Day. And remember these wise words from Donkey in Shrek The Halls: "Christmas ain't Christmas till somebody cries!"]