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Family Throwback Photo

A Bryant family photo in DC circa 1942.Back row (l-r) Theodora Preston, Elizabeth Preston Bryant (Lala),Herbert Sydney Bryant, Katherine Bryant Kingsbury (Kitty), Herbert Preston Bryant (served in the Army in WWII).
Front row: Preston Deane Kingsbury and Bryant Kingsbury with an unknown pet
Back row: Theodora Preston (Lala’s youngest sister) never married, Elizabeth Preston Bryant (Lala), Herbert Sydney Bryant (Bert), Katherine Gertrude Bryant Kingsbury (Kitty), & Herbert Preston Bryant (Herb), Kitty’s younger brother by five years (served in the Army in WWII).
Front row: Preston Deane Kingsbury and Bryant Kingsbury with an unknown pet

This house will be one of the stops on our Washington DC road trip this summer. It is either the house on Drummond Avenue in Chevy Chase that Joe, Kitty and the boys lived in for several years or the home of Kitty’s parents, Lala and Bert Bryant in the area now known as Manor Park – 304 Rittenhouse Street. Bert and Lala moved to that house when it was first built in 1919 and lived there until some time after Bert’s death in 1950. Shortly after that, Lala moved to New Brunswick, New Jersey where Herbert, her son was living and working on a newspaper.

For almost all of 1944, Kitty lived alone with the boys because Papa Joe was on assignment in Iran as Assistant to the Personnel Director of the US Financial Mission to Iran. My uncle Deane (younger than Bryant, my father by four years) has a great story about the FBI coming to the house to investigate reports of someone making a bomb. It was related to something my father was working on in the basement (probably not a bomb but knowing my father’s curiosity and scientific bent it might have been a bomb or maybe fireworks – it was definitely something explosive!)

Need Deane to fill in this story and others with more detail this summer.

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Family History Road Trip

peggyandme.3.21.19I saw my cousin Peggy Kingsbury Rice last week on my annual visit to Charlottesville, VA for the Virginia Festival of the Book – a five day book festival with an amazing variety of authors and topics. It was our second visit in two years. Peggy’s father Deane is my father’s younger brother. Even though we didn’t grow up together and have almost a ten year age difference, when we get together the conversation flows easily and the family connections shine through.

Peggy and I have been talking about taking a family history road trip to Washington DC and have settled on the perfect time to do it. Peggy’s parents, Deane and Nancy will be visiting her the first week of June. They fly in and out of Washington DC so we’re planning a day trip around DC that will highlight places that are significant to our family history.

My father, Bryant Kingsbury (1932-2007) was four years older than his brother Preston Deane Bryant. Their parents were Joseph Bush Kingsbury (1890-1983) and Katherine Gertrude Bryant (1902-1959). Joe and Kitty met in Washington DC at a party in December 1926. From his letters to her in the year preceeding their marriage on 4 January 1928, it’s obvious he was smitten.

Although Joe Kingsbury often travelled for work and took an assignment out of the country near the end of World War II, Kitty and the boys stayed put in Washington DC until the family moved to Bloomington Indiana in 1948, when Joe joined the faculty of Indiana University. Kitty had grown up in Washington DC and there were strong connections to DC on both sides of her family.

Those are the people and places I’ll be blogging about over the next ten weeks in preparation for our visit in early June. When I refer to “our great great grandfather” I am including in the term “our” my two cousins Peggy Kingsbury Rice and Stacy Kingsbury Christiansen and me, so I’ll be citing the relationship to ancestors counting from “our” generation. Kitty is our grandmother, Papa Joe (aka Joseph Bush Kingsbury) is our grandfather. Kitty’s mother and father (Elizabeth Monica Preston and Herbert Sydney Bryant) are “our” great grandparents; their parents are our great great grandparents (sometimes listed as 2G grandparents) and so on.

We know a lot about our Kingsbury-Bush ancestry because of the “Blue Book” created by our great uncle Forrest Alva Kingsbury in 1958. In it, he captures the American ancestry of the Kingsbury and Bush families beginning with Joseph Kingsbury who came from England in 1637 and settled in Dedham, Massachusetts.

Forrest Kingsbury (1883-1972) was the oldest son of Wayland Kingsbury and Flora Jane Bush. He grew up in Osage, Iowa with three younger full brothers, Frank, Joe and Dean and one younger half brother, Clark. Flora Jane Bush Kingsbury died in 1900 and Wayland remarried Annie May Walker in 1902. All of the boys shared great love and affection for their new mother.

Forrest was a professor of psychology and taught for a number of years at the University of Chicago before moving to Redlands California where he taught at the University of Redlands from 1948 to 1952. Redlands is in San Bernadino County, east of Los Angeles. Forrest and his wife, Cornelia Hasselman (1887-1980) never had children but what a wonderful legacy he left for his nieces and nephews and their descendants.

We learned very little about our grandmother Katherine Gertrude Bryant growing up. Kitty died in 1959, when I was only four years old. Peggy and Stacy were not born until the 1960s. Contributing to the lack of information about her is that Kitty struggled for most of her adult life with alcohol addiction. This undoubtedly meant that many of the stories her sons might have remembered about her were too painful to share. I know this because I have a collection of my grandfather’s contemporaneous writings that provide a very detailed and sad account of how their lives were affected by her drinking.

So without dwelling on her illness and the effect it had on her family, I’ll start with what I know about Kitty’s side of the family, beginning with her paternal grandfather Levi Jesse Bryant (1839-1920). Fortunately there is a family genealogy, much like the one Forrest created for the Kingsbury Bush family about the Bryant family. It was published in 1938 and is entitled Charles Smith and Rachel Amy Bryant: Their Ancestors and Descendants. The author, Tenney Smith, was writing about the ancestors and descendants of his parents and by extension, at least on his mother’s side of the family, our Bryant ancestors as well. His mother Rachel Amy Bryant was the older sister of our great great grandfather Levi Jesse Bryant.

It can be dangerous to rely on previously published family histories without evaluating the data, but it offers a shortcut that I’m willing to take in this instance, to know a little more about our Bryant family. Several of our early Bryant ancestors were in Massachusetts as early as the Kingsbury family but living in Plymouth and Duxbury, which are south and a little east of Dedham.

Our first Bryant ancestor to arrive in America was Stephen Bryant who came to Plymouth, Massachusetts from Essex, England as a young man. The exact date of his arrival is uncertain but from the references to him in the records of Plymouth it seems he arrived sometime around 1632. He was on a list of Plymouth men able to bear arms in 1643, married Abigail Shaw in 1646 and became a freeman in 1651.

Fast forward a 150 years and we find Prince Bryant and his wife Rebecca Everett living in Springfield, Massachusetts. Rebecca came to Massachusetts from Northern Ireland with her parents when she was 13 years old. She is the source for some of our Irish DNA although we get another dose from the Preston side of Kitty’s family. Rebecca and Prince Bryant married in Springfield in 1798 and left for Monroe County, Illinois in 1800. Their second son, Jesse Bryant, our 3G grandfather, was born there on 8 Mar 1802.

Jesse Bryant married Betsey Williams on 18 Jun 1826 in Monroe County, Illinois. Betsey was the daughter of Zopher Williams and Ama Ludington who came to Illinois in 1815 from Tioga County, New York. Jesse bought land from his father’s estate and built a stone house near Waterloo, Illinois, where most of his children, including our great great grandfather Levi Jesse Bryant were born. The house was still occupied in 1935 when Tenney Smith researched his family genealogy.

In 1844, Jesse and Betsey loaded their eight children into covered wagons and moved to southern Missouri. There they encountered “malarial fever and insects beyond endurance” (p.46) and one of their younger daughters, Electa Elizabeth, died at the age of three in October 1845. The family loaded the wagons again, traversed the state of Illinois from south to north, and stopped briefly in Argyle, Wisconsin, where Betsey’s family was living at the time. They journeyed west to Jackson County, Iowa where they lived for a couple of years before returning to Moscow, Wisconsin, where their last child, a boy named David Zopher Bryant, was born in December 1847. Moscow is about 15 miles north of Argyle, Wisconsin, which means that Jesse’s and Betsey’s children grew up in close proximity to their maternal grandparents.

Jesse Bryant died on 21 Sep 1853. From this point on, the family stayed put (at least for a time) in Wisconsin. That’s how Levi Jesse Bryant, who was 14 when his father died, came to enlist in the Wisconsin 3rd Infantry at the outbreak of the Civil War, which is where we’ll pick up the story in my next post. His older brother John Prince Bryant also fought for Wisconsin (Company B of the 18th Infantry) during the civil war. He died in Corinth, Mississippi on 3 October 1862.

One of the reasons I enjoy genealogy is because I like to imagine what our ancestors were like. It is very difficult to find enough information in most sources to form a good picture of their personalities but Tenney Smith does a great job describing his grandmother Betsey Williams Bryant, who was born in Candor, New York in 1807 and left for Illinois, “an almost untracked wilderness,” (p.53) when she was just eight years old. She is our 3G grandmother. Of her, he writes:

“She was a worthy daughter of an honored mother. She is remembered as an old lady with full, round, pink cheeks and a halo of white hair. Her placid face beamed with loving kindness. It was a face that attracted children at sight. They liked to be with her. That face did not come from having led a sheltered carefree life. It came from having lived a life of unselfish devotion in the service of others and the care of children.” (p. 53)

Betsey’s final days were spent as a pioneer. She joined her youngest son, David Zopher Bryant when he travelled west to Clay County, Nebraska, where they each took up a homestead. “They had a house on the line between their homesteads and lived together in one house. There the end came to the long and eventful life that had been hers. She was found sitting in her rocking chair , with her knitting in her lap. Just fallen to sleep, without pain or suffering.” (p.54)


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1937 – February Letters to Kitty

Joe’s Letter to Kitty – Monday February 15th

Darling:

Nothing to write about, but this will be something to take out of the mail box and read on the streetcar. Hope you had help in moving and are more settled than you were.

No check for me, but they may be along later in the week when our time reports get there. I wrote a check for $15.00 cash today – had to buy postage and envelopes for the office.

I spent Sunday in bed with a sore throat, headache, backache and temperature, but am OK today, although I suppose I will have a week or so of nose blowing. I felt it coming Saturday night so took a physic and filled up with aspirin, and didn’t eat a thing until Sunday evening when Miss Stratton sent up a tray.

FOE has us all on the jump – he may have to leave this weekend. I felt week today but by going out at 10:30 for some Bovril (Bovril’s great bracer) and at 3:30 for hot chocolate, I got through the day.

Did Bry get over his cold? and how are you ? Write me everything.

Love, Joe

Tuesday Evening

February 16th

Darling:

6:30: FOE , Kerr and I are all back at the office grinding out stuff. I have spent most of the day conferring with FOE and Bradford. B will be satisfied if we set up salary scales for college teachers of various types, and make some recommendations about how many there should be of each rank, qualifications etc. So that is settled. I am chief of staff, signing letters as such.

FOE remarked that since your are settled in Washington I probably wasn’t interested in California any more, but I told him I still was. He said I might be there a long time.

I enclose a statement of income I got from Headquarters. Since it was not reported by G&A, I take it our figure doesn’t have to agree with this, and we might forget the payment of last January (1936). We’ll talk about it when I see you.

I am missing you and the boys terribly now. Hope things are going well. Boarding house routine is not too bad. I have a good bed, and go to bed early and read almost every night. Get up at 7 and am at the office soon after 8. Feel OK.

Hope to have a letter from you in the morning.

Love, Joe

Commentary:

Here’s a mundane day-to-day exchange between a husband and wife, with two sons, Bry (4 – almost 5) and Deane (6 months). True to my uncle’s recollection, their mother worked (I wish I knew what her job was) and a Negro woman took care of them. That woman must be Daisy – someone Kitty hired to look after the boys while she worked after returning to Washington DC in January 1937 while JBK continued on his job for Griffenhagen & Associates in Richmond, VA.

I see a recurring theme of stress in a marriage – finances. Also I see that Kitty handled the banking (as I do) in the family and that JBK would just send her the bank statement and let her know what checks he had written. Oh dear, sounds like a recipe for disaster if he didn’t know how many checks she had written!

I have to remark on the working woman dilemma. So many of my generation seem to think we were the first to deal with the “family/work balance dilemma” but in reality my grandmother was dealing with it 50 years before I did. It is also interesting to see that JBK was considering a job that would keep him in California – “for a long time” while his wife and young sons lived in Washington DC. That seems a bit odd, but maybe he assumed that if he went to California, Kitty and the boys would move out there to live with him. Or maybe he planned to live apart from his family for an extended period of time. Again – an issue that this generation of dual income families seem to think they were the first to deal with.

Next time you feel a cold coming on – be sure to take a physic (not something I’ve been able to find a modern explanation of) followed by Bovril and hot chocolate.

 


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February 3, 1937 – A Two Letter Day

In reviewing my grandfather’s letters from the 1920s and 1930s I am struck by a few differences between then and now.

First, the idea of a five day work week seems to be a  benefit that we take for granted. When JBK worked as a clerk in the Department of Agriculture while attending school in Washington DC from 1910 to 1914, Saturday work was the norm, not the exception.

Second, when he was working for Griffenhagen and Associates he often had to cover his own expenses out of his salary. Expenses that today are covered by the employer – like paying a typist or office assistant. Meals and travel expenses were not reimbursed and JBK often wrote about cheaply he could get by for a week.

Third, the postal service seemed more efficient than it is today. Letters travelled faster and mail was delivered more than once a day. I have no idea how it worked.

On February 3, 1937 JBK wrote two letters to Kitty, who had just moved back to Washington DC while he remained in Richmond VA, finishing his work with Griffenhagen & Associates on the personnel study for the Commonwealth of Virginia.

Wednesday

Darling:

Sorry to hear that we are on the rocks again.(1) I wrote EOG (his big boss) that I would have to have money by the end of this week, but later FOE (his project manager) told me had been told to help me out on expenses until about the 20th. If necessary I’ll call on him for a loan; he will have to pay the office force this week. I deposited the annuity check, and won’t write any checks until I have made a deposit.

You probably read of Woodcock’s resignation. (President of St. John’s College) How would you like to be at SJC now? I imagine everybody is pretty worried. I don’t see how the place can stay open much longer.

Doubt if I can make it home this weekend, but next week we should be easing off. I’ve been working on the report the last two days. FOE and I are barely speaking; I despise him and I guess he knows it. I shall try hard to locate in Washington.

Love, Joe

(1) This means out of money – a frequent topic in their correspondence throughout most of the time they spent together. Although I only have JBK’s letters to Kitty, I get the impression she frequently wrote complaining about not having enough money, needing more money, wanting him to get a job that made more money – etc. Money – always a big stressor in relationships, especially when two people have very different ideas about it.

Pretty strong words from my mild-mannered grandfather who I can’t imagine ever despised anyone. Of course, he had probably mellowed a lot by the time I knew him. Age has that effect on people . I hardly despise anyone these days!

His second letter on February 3rd is as follows

Wednesday – 9 pm

Darling:

This is two letters to you in the same day; don’t get too flattered, and don’t expect two every day. I came back to the office after dinner and have done two hours work, but it still goes too slowly. Thought you might call (he didn’t have a phone in his boarding house and had asked Kitty to call the office if she wanted to talk to him). The telephone rang but it was CW asking if Bob was there. They are having another crisis – he hasn’t been with her since they came back together on the bus Sunday night. The visit to her family made him think she had serious designs, and he is trying to break away. Last night she sent him word that she was going out (he found out it was with the man she calls her uncle – really her uncle’s law partner who gives her money). He wrote a note telling her that was the end; showed it to me and I suggested that it might have the wrong effect. She came down to the office three times today on various pretexts, and told Mrs. D she felt terrible – cried all morning. Bob said he was going home and go to bed early but I wouldn’t be surprised if – – – oh hell, I am getting more and more uninterested in what happens to them, but it does make me feel we have something to be thankful for, and that there are troubles worse than finances, which I once thought impossible.

The package from mother came today and I forwarded it to Bry this afternoon.

You should see my boarding house. It is just opposite the vacant lot where we bought our Christmas tree. I have the front room on the 3rd floor this week, but it’s a double room, and when she gets two men to take it I’ll have to move into the backroom with a young business college student unless there is a single room vacant.

Everything is old and bare, but the beds are comfortable, rooms are warm and the food is good enough. Navy bean soup, ground steak, string beans, tomatoes, celery, rolls, ginger snaps & coffee. It reminds me somewhat of army food, on which I thrived. I can stand it, if I can stay cold and aloof enough from the other boarders. My next door neighbor is an electrical construction man working at the Dupont plant. He has to be on the job at 7:30, so for five nights he stays home and reads & goes early to bed, but Sat. & Sunday he gets drunk. He burned his car up while tight, and last week-end had a terrible fight with another inmate named Applebury, who they call “fire chief” because he sometimes goes to sleep smoking and burns the bed clothes.  I’m learning how the other half lives.

I collected $1.00 from the T&E laundry, and I still have $9.00 (after paying room & board, buying a tank full of gasoline, room at the Y, express on the trunks, etc.) – almost enough to last thru next week.

I hope the difficulties of finding an apartment and a nurse haven’t got you down. Your assignment is tougher than mine. Luck, and all my love

Joe

This letter is a good example of how I establish dates and times for certain events. By JBK’s reference to his boarding house being across from the lot where they got their Christmas tree – I conclude that the family lived together in Richmond in December 1936. I know my uncle Deane was born in Osage Iowa in August 1936 and he was a bit early so Kitty and the boys stayed there for at least a month. This means she moved to Richmond, where JBK was already working, in the fall of 1936. So my uncle spent his first Christmas in my hometown – Richmond VA! Another instance of overlapping ancestor tracks which I think I’m gonna start calling – OATS.

The gossipy part of JBK’s letter seems a bit out of character for him but I assume that Kitty knew the people he was writing about and was probably interested in the story. One observation I have though – admittedly from a woman’s perspective – If Bob was trying to break it off because CW had “designs on him” why should he care whether or not she went out with the man she called her “uncle.”  He should have relieved but I guess he was using that as an easy excuse to get out of the relationship. I can’t wait to see what develops in the coming letters.

And last question – how do you  collect money from the laundry? Is it possible they paid in advance and then had laundry done there while Kitty was in town and there was a balance in the account? Interesting perspective that my grandfather was able to live for a week (including his rent and food) on what I just spent on my Panera salad at lunch! (I do think Panera is too expensive.)


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Life in Bloomington, Indiana

Joseph B Kingsbury moved to Bloomington, Indiana at the end of summer 1946 with his wife Kitty and their two boys, my father, Bryant Kingsbury who was 14 at the time of the move and Preston Deane Kingsbury who had just turned 10 in August that year. The family had lived in Chevy Chase, Maryland (just on the edge of Washington, DC) before the move and that was also where Kitty and the boys lived when JBK was in Tehran, Iran for most of 1944.  

The moved marked the beginning of JBK’s career as a professor of Government at Indiana University, returning to university teaching after many years in government service and working for a private consulting firm. In an early account from this time JBK writes: 

October 31, 1946 –We have been in Indiana 2 months. The country is charming, the weather has been beautiful and warm, the faculty and townspeople easy to get along with. The boys like school better than ever before and seem to have more friends than they did in Chevy Chase. I could be happier than ever before but Kitty seems determined not only to wreck herself, but to take us all with her.

 This is the first account in a file labelled “KBK” in my grandfather’s neat, distinctive print. The file is an inch thick with letters, both typed and handwritten, mostly from JBK documenting four years of Kitty’s drinking habits and bizarre behavior. There’s no benefit to blogging about the details, other than to say they provide a lot of insight into what my father and uncle lived through and leave me even more amazed than ever about my grandfather’s patience and resilience.  

I’ve read through most of JBK’s letters before but I always find something interesting that I missed the first time. Today’s tidbit comes from a letter in the KBK file dated May 17, 1949 in which JBK analyzes his behavior to evaluate the merit of Kitty’s claims that he is responsible for all of her unhappiness.  

I love it for his succinct but accurate description of the Kingsbury and Bush families. When I think about my Kingsbury and Bush ancestors who moved to Iowa in the early to mid- 1800s I tend to lump them together under the labels – religious, hard-working pioneers; strong, mid-western stock; salt of the earth. It’s interesting to read JBK’s perspective on the differences between the two families and his perspectives on self-analysis. 

I don’t know anything harder to do than see ourselves as others see us. Too much introspection is like a disease; I know, because I suffered with it between the ages of 12 and 30, and I have been trying ever since to get over it. But when we are in a cold war, with no referees and no rules, I had better examine myself as critically and objectively as possible and see if I am as right as I think I am. I have no illusions that I can see all my faults, but I shall make an honest attempt. This is my story and it is bound to be one-sided. If I bring you in, it is because it is impossible to leave you out. We are still husband and wife. I shall not go back into history any more than is necessary to explain the present situation. 

It would be foolish to deny that I am still influenced by my parents and early life. I am the product of two rather different families, the Kingsburys, Vermont and Iowa farmers; hard-working, thrifty, puritanical in their religion and morals, undemonstrative, but capable of genuine liking for and kindness to people. The Bush family were more sensitive, imaginative, humorous, and demonstrative, more intellectual in their interests but equally devout in their religion. I was brought up to believe God punished wrong-doing, and the Bible and the church were necessary to keep one straight. I was 25 years old and in graduate school before I had serious doubts that the Bible and the church had all the truth. Then I reacted rather bitterly against churches, but I guess I never lost my fundamental religious nature and never will.  

In my reaction against early piety and strictness, forbidden pleasures became very alluring: smoking, drinking, gambling, forbidden books, women, etc. That was the Prohibition era and the gay 20’s when many young people lost their inhibitions. I had a short and very unsatisfactory affair with a high school teacher in St. Louis – aside from that I was terribly innocent and ignorant of women and quite content to be a bachelor. When I met you, I was beginning to see that bachelors usually turned into queer, selfish, old-maidish persons, and I didn’t want to get that way. The thought that a girl as young, beautiful and sophisticated as you could be interested in me was exciting and flattering.

 Of the early days of their relationship he writes: 

I suffered tortures between the time I met you and the time I asked you to marry me – and milder hell from that time until we were married. My natural caution told me not to, and my study of Sociology told me we were too different to get along well. My newly awakened gambling spirit and my physical desires said “do it.” In the end I think my decision was rational. I convinced myself that I could get along with anyone and you were a very desirable creature.

I will always think of the first 5 years of our married life as happy ones. I was proud of your beauty, your social poise, your hospitality, your initiative, your hard common sense, and many other qualities. I thought it was a case of two quite different people supplementing each other’s lacks and proving that common likes, values and traits were not necessary to successful marriage. We did have some good times those first 5 years, and we were proud and happy when the first baby came.

 Hope I’ve left you wanting more – I just can’t get enough of my grandfather’s writing. I never knew Kitty, but from reading his letters, I get an image of what she was like.

 


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My Grandfather’s Love Letters

My grandfather was a college professor. He was 65 years old when I was born in 1955, but I enjoyed a 28 year relationship with him that profoundly influenced my life. The letters he left behind continue and deepen that relationship. I am so thankful for his written legacy.

I am taking the liberty of sharing a side of Joseph Bush Kingsbury that most of the world never knew. I’ve decide it is okay to do that. When I read his letters they are completely in line with the person I knew him to be and yet they reveal a side of him most people who knew him never got to see.

When my grandfather met his future wife he was 36 and she was 24. They married 11 months after they met. Thank goodness – or I wouldn’t be here! It’s kind of crazy (and a little selfish) when you think of things that way but I wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t be reading this if those two people – who seem like such an unlikely pair in so many ways – hadn’t gotten married on January 4, 1928.

This letter was written about a month before their wedding when he was on assignment in Columbus, Ohio and she was living at home in Washington DC. I’m pretty sure she worked at the Library of Congress, which is so COOL!  (If you haven’t been to the Library of Congress it is one of those places that I think all Americans MUST visit. Right up there with Gettysburg – but for entirely different reasons.) He worked for a Chicago consulting firm, Griffenhagen and Associates, doing studies for state and local governments on personnel policies and salaries, usually in an effort to come up with a uniform salary structure that equalized compensation based on training and experience across many levels of government.

When I read my grandfather’s love letters to Kitty, it’s bittersweet. I know their relationship didn’t work out the way he wanted it to and they had many years of unhappiness. But when I read of his “head over heels” love for his young bride to be, I’m happy to know that he had these feelings.

I also like these letters because I get a bit of an idea what Kitty was like. I met her, but I have no memory of her. She died in December 1959 when I was 4 years old.

December 1927

Monday Night – Columbus, OH

Forgive me, darling, but I have another sentimental spell on, and I can’t go to bed without writing you again. Went to a romantic movie tonight (The Road to Romance – good too) – maybe that’s all that’s wrong, but I think it’s something deeper. Lately I’ve been so happy that it’s almost alarming. I’m likely to forget my dignity and do something childish most any time. I haven’t worried about anything for several weeks, and the world looks like a good place to live.

When I first knew you and we used to talk in a sophisticated way about love and marriage I said I thought marriage didn’t change anyone much. I’m beginning to think it does – at least the immediate prospect of it does. I may be kidding myself, but I think I am changing a little. For one thing – I can look back just a few months and see what a baby I’ve always been. I’ve just naturally thought of myself first and expected everybody to do things to please me, and if they didn’t I wouldn’t play. Probably you’ll have some occasions yet to remind me of this, but I’m beginning to grow up, at least.

Just think, a year ago I didn’t mean anything to you nor you to me! I don’t know yet why I fell in love with you – I certainly didn’t intend to. It was a rash thing to do, but having been cautious and deliberate all my life I enjoyed being reckless and I think it’s the wisest thing I ever did. As usual, I’m talking as though I did it all. As a matter of fact you just happened across my path and having seen you I was done for. For some unknown reason you chose to let me stay and now I’m your prisoner for life, and don’t want to be anything else.

Writing is so unsatisfactory. If you were here I would hold you so tight and kiss you till I made you promise never to let me go.

                                                                                                                Your lover


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Celebrating my Father’s Birthday

I’ve gotten so far behind on posts on my personal blog that I posted about my father’s birthday there but here’s a link for you to read about it.

Interesting tidbit about my father’s name. He has no middle name even though he spent most of his life using the initials BBK. Growing up, everyone in my family called him K.B. – not sure why except that those were his “Navy initials” last name first.  On his birth certificate his name is Bryant Kingsbury. The middle name he often used, Bush, was his father’s middle name. So now for the interesting tidbit.

According to my father, who apparently knew that he did not have a middle name even though he used one, the reason he began using Bush as his middle name is because when he was born, a friend of the family dedicated a book to him and she used the name – Bryant Bush Kingsbury.

“And that’s how I got Bush as a middle name.”

TitlePage.Murder in Maryland.1932

When my father was born, his parents were good friends with another professor at St Johns College and his wife. The professor’s name was Ford Brown and his wife was Zenith Brown who had some success as a mystery writer using the pen name Leslie Ford. One of her novels, Murder in Maryland, was dedicated to my father.

 

Leslie Ford was born Zenith Jones (nee Brown) in 1889 in Smith River, Calif., where her father was a missionary among the Indians, and spent her earliest years in a papoose, raised among the Indians to whom her father ministered. She studied to be a journalist and started freelancing in 1928. She wrote her first novel, Footsteps on the Stairs in 1931 and her last, Trial for Ambush, in 1962. In-between, she wrote more than 60 mysteries, created two major crime series (as Leslie Ford and David Frome), and was a foreign correspondent in the European and Pacific Theaters.

from: http://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2012/07/leslie-fords-fall-from-grace.html

Thanks to my very thoughtful husband, I have one of Leslie Ford’s books. When he heard the story I just recounted (from my father, I had never heard it before) he ordered the book on line. Maybe I’ll even read it one day!