This is the twenty-ninth of 87 letters exchanged during World War II between Nicholas Salvatore and Elizabeth Galloway. For more see Nicholas and Elizabeth.

Chicago Cubs Dugout 1929

April 20, 1944

Your guess is as good as mine

Dearest Elizabeth,

I don’t know what to say. That must have been something, seeing your father like that. Even if it wasn’t him, for that moment everything in your being reacted as if it had been him. I don’t know what it means. Relationships with our parents are anything but simple. At least not after we’re grown-up. When you’re a kid you accept things as they are because that’s all you know. They’re larger than life. My father was distant and removed most of the time but in that way he seemed even more like a character in a book. He was permanent and unchanging. Something I could revisit year after year and expect to be the same. He must’ve been different before my mother died. From what I’ve heard about her she was a romantic and I can’t see her falling for my father as he is now. He’ll be happy though – I heard the Cubs won their first game of the season. I can picture him, declaring that they’ll set a record this year as the first team ever to have an undefeated season. He does the same thing every year when they win the first game.

No, you don’t need to be rich to live a rich life. Sure, I imagine it would help with a lot of things and I certainly wouldn’t turn down a bucket full of cash, but no, if you’ve got the passion to live there’s always a way, it just takes some creativity. Once this blasted war is over and they clean up the mess, I’ll take you all around the world. We’ll see history. See what generations have built and preserved. Back home we have such a short history and what little we do have is always being torn down for something new. I want to take you to all the great capitals of the world. What do you say? We’ll spend a month in each of the greatest cities that history has ever known. After that we can go anywhere you want, even while away the rest of our days in the suburbs for all I care. Better start planning, kid!

Love as always,


Next letter – May 1, 1944