February 29, 1944

Dearest Ward,

I was very happy to get your letter today for it made me feel as tho I wasn’t miles and miles from anyone I knew and most of all you. I’ve been exceptionally lonesome, for people here in Omaha aren’t a bit friendly like they were in Macomb. They all look and look at me but I know it’s because they can tell I’m a farmer, for I certainly do feel like one in this town. I find that I’m getting shy and am losing my self-confidence which is bad for a girl who wants to make good. I sure do hope you get in next Saturday for I need your company (if you’re not ornery.) I know I’d feel much more satisfied if I was cooking but today I’ve been sort of sitting tight and wishing they’d call me for the job out at the bomber plant. [I] doubt if they will, however.

Tomorrow tho, I’m going to the U.S. employment service and take the next best thing, I hope.

[It] sure seems like a week already since I saw you, the days seem to drag. [I] have written two other letters to you so you’ve probably heard from me by now.

The car is taken care of, for I rented a space at that parking lot for a dollar for a week. I rubbed and scraped the jalopy trying to get the mud off, without too much success. This Nebraska Mud sure cakes on and [I] try and get it off. It looks some better but not much. I’m really ashamed of it.

There seems to be quite a few waitress jobs available, but I’d prefer to work in a factory where I’d be sure to have Saturday nights and Sundays off to be with you. And I’m more used to a factory, tho I think I’d be a good waitress after about a week. I will take something like that if I have to, just to take up the time.

Have you written any letters back home? I have about three to write to [the] girls in the shop so I’ll see how many I get written this [evening] P.M.

I still feel ashamed for not getting out of the car Saturday when they had Retreat. Fine American I am, huh?

Some of my clothes are getting soiled and I don’t know how I’m going to get them washed and ironed. They have to be done by hand. If I only had a plug in this room. I mean a floor plug of course. (Tho I could use yours very nicely too.)

Why do men watch me so? While I was eating breakfast there were three that hardly took their eyes off me. [It] made me feel awful and I could barely eat, if you can imagine that. One had a girl with him too and when I went out he nearly broke his neck to open the door for me. Good God.

I dreamed of you and Mommy and the house this morning. It seemed that I was back home trying to get things together to come out here to you. And Mommy lined down to your Dads house. [It] seemed like I came up the hill to get my things and on my may I saw Tibby, and she acted the same as she used to before. And I recall how wonderful it seemed to have her old self [back] again and how relieved I felt. Then I went on into the house and it was all different, like dreams are. None of the furniture was familiar to me and it appeared as tho it hadn’t been lived in for a long time. There was straw and hay on the floor but my clothes [that were] there were all the same. I proceeded to get washed up and someone banged on the door and I said, “Wait a minute”. They kept right on coming and I was yelling for fear they’d see me and then it turned out to be Mommy. Then I woke up feeling so bad because I had yelled at Mommy. Such goofy stuff huh, but its something to write about.

Till I dream up some more goofy stuff, either in my sleep or while I’m awake, remember that I do dream of you always, when I’m awake.

Love,

Ruthie