In the the summer of 1946, two young teens Lawrence Burke and Margaret Warner spent a month together with their families in a vacation area in York Beach, Maine. Afterwards, they began exchanging letters. Recently, these letters were submitted for historcial transcription and available to be read here. This is the first letter.
August 1, 1946
Margaret,
Hello. I hope you do not find this letter intrusive or strange. To be frank, I’ve been wanting to write this letter since the day we parted. The time I spent in York Beach was the best summer I’ve had since I was a younger, more boisterous boy. Being around that serene beach was a treat that sewed the frayed ends of the year together. It’s been awhile since I felt that happy and free.Anyways, I am glad to have met you at that trip. How lucky are we that our families picked the same week to go to York Beach? I would pin that fact on fate if I believed in it. Our adjacent vacation houses were the perfect place to spend the days, watching the stars at night and playing, running along the beaches in the day. And even better, our parents got along right away. It was as if they were old friends.
How are your parents doing, by the way? They were absolutely delightful when I spoke to them. Your family seems like a really good, solid one. I wish I could say the same for mine. As much as I love my father, it is quite difficult being his son at times. He tells me that I am “the smartest seventeen-year-old he knows”, but I honestly don’t think he knows any other seventeen year olds besides me. Unless you’re seventeen (but from your looks, I doubt it.) Then I might have some competition.
What about your sister? Vivian seems like a sharp-witted girl, if she is a bit snarky. Was that rude of me to say? To be fair, you do not seem to be too fond of her either. Perhaps it is a sibling thing. Forgive me if that was not appropriate, in fact, do not write me at all if it was. I must seem like quite the jerk.
It would probably be best to end the letter here. However, as I am writing, I realize I selflessly did not give you an update on how I am faring. Or perhaps it was selfish, who knows. At any rate, my father is doing well. Being back home has made him more himself. His habit of making puns, however, has declined. I like to think he only gets a sense of humor when he is around other families.
My grandma, on the other hand, is not doing particularly well. She has gotten slightly more confused as each day goes by. She often forgets where she is or what time of day it is, but she has never once forgotten me or my father. I pray that her memory of us never slips from her fingers.
If you have deemed me worthy of a letter in reply, do so at your leisure. I hope to hear back from you, Margaret. Ending our friendship at our parting at the gate of the vacation center would be quite the disappointment.
Sincerely,
Lawrence Burke Jr.
August 1, 1946
Margaret,
Hello. I hope you do not find this letter intrusive or strange. To be frank, I’ve been wanting to write this letter since the day we parted. The time I spent in York Beach was the best summer I’ve had since I was a younger, more boisterous boy. Being around that serene beach was a treat that sewed the frayed ends of the year together. It’s been awhile since I felt that happy and free.Anyways, I am glad to have met you at that trip. How lucky are we that our families picked the same week to go to York Beach? I would pin that fact on fate if I believed in it. Our adjacent vacation houses were the perfect place to spend the days, watching the stars at night and playing, running along the beaches in the day. And even better, our parents got along right away. It was as if they were old friends.
How are your parents doing, by the way? They were absolutely delightful when I spoke to them. Your family seems like a really good, solid one. I wish I could say the same for mine. As much as I love my father, it is quite difficult being his son at times. He tells me that I am “the smartest seventeen-year-old he knows”, but I honestly don’t think he knows any other seventeen year olds besides me. Unless you’re seventeen (but from your looks, I doubt it.) Then I might have some competition.
What about your sister? Vivian seems like a sharp-witted girl, if she is a bit snarky. Was that rude of me to say? To be fair, you do not seem to be too fond of her either. Perhaps it is a sibling thing. Forgive me if that was not appropriate, in fact, do not write me at all if it was. I must seem like quite the jerk.
It would probably be best to end the letter here. However, as I am writing, I realize I selflessly did not give you an update on how I am faring. Or perhaps it was selfish, who knows. At any rate, my father is doing well. Being back home has made him more himself. His habit of making puns, however, has declined. I like to think he only gets a sense of humor when he is around other families.
My grandma, on the other hand, is not doing particularly well. She has gotten slightly more confused as each day goes by. She often forgets where she is or what time of day it is, but she has never once forgotten me or my father. I pray that her memory of us never slips from her fingers.
If you have deemed me worthy of a letter in reply, do so at your leisure. I hope to hear back from you, Margaret. Ending our friendship at our parting at the gate of the vacation center would be quite the disappointment.
Sincerely,
Lawrence Burke Jr.