Letters from the Heart

CHAPTER ONE Secret Treasures of My Mother’s Heart, 1988 I opened the chest, and the pungent scent of cedar filled my nostrils as I sat cross-legged on the raw wood floor under beams that angled up and held my house together. I inherited this cedar trunk when my mother died unexpectedly in November, 1985. It was not an unusual or attractive piece of furniture. In fact, it was a plain, old, rectangular, wooden chest that was heavy and bulky. Although my mother never talked about this chest, I knew intuitively that it was meant for me. I sensed the chest was an important tie to my mother’s life, although I really didn’t know why. My husband and brothers moved it from my mother’s house to mine, and even though I was curious about its contents, I stored it in the attic and avoided opening it for three years. The sudden loss of my mother to a heart attack when she was sixty was shocking and painful, and in my grief I was not able to handle her belongings. It was also a hectic time, and I had other distractions that enriched my life. I was married to a good man and was now a mother, too, and I stayed busy tending to my daughter, age three, named Ruth after my mother, whose name was Ruth Evelyn, and my two-year-old son, Dana, named after my father. I also worked thirty hours a week at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville and created a balance of quality time with my children and family while working outside the home. The days went by in a blur. On this chilly, fall, Sunday afternoon, I decided I was ready to see what my mother kept in this mystery chest that I knew so little about. It was half full and held an autograph book from my mother’s teen years and a 1941 East High School annual from her senior year. I sorted through hand-stitched towels, crocheted doilies, and a completed stitched flower design from a crewel embroidery kit, all in perfect condition. In awe, I realized this must be my mother’s hope chest, given to her by her parents when she became engaged to my father in 1944. 1944. The world was deeply entrenched in World War II, and I knew my father was a P-51 pilot stationed in Europe during this time. Under the handmade items in the trunk were my baby book from 1948 and a framed baby photo of me with hand-painted, soft pink cheeks and a carefully arranged lock of real hair in a curl pasted on my head. I came along three years after the war. I found several pairs of keepsake bronzed baby shoes and two cloth soldier dolls in good condition that belonged to my younger twin brothers. Suddenly, I was filled with a longing for my mother. At the bottom of the trunk I found three shoe boxes tied neatly with ribbon. The cardboard was worn and had ragged edges. I untied the string around one of the boxes, lifted the lid, and found letters addressed to my mother. Instinctively, I knew who had written them. I lifted the boxes out of the trunk, flipped through a stack, and looked at the return addresses—Flight 17, Keesler Field, Mississippi; Squadron F-2, Nashville, Tennessee; Craig Field, Selma, Alabama; Perry Army Air Field, Perry, Florida. There were two hundred fifty letters in the boxes, all postmarked in the 1940s, all still in good condition as if waiting to be found. My heart skipped because I knew instinctively that they were the words of my father. I picked out a few to read. Golly, Ev, I wanta see you so darn bad it hurts. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love you in these letters. 11 February 1944 The letters would tell a story of the day my father met my mother at a USO-sponsored dance at the YMCA in Nashville, his journey through flight training, and his travels overseas as a fighter pilot during the war. I have a secret ambition to fly a P-51 Mustang. Man alive, give me one of those and a couple of good wing men, and lookout Luftwaffe. 23 March 1944 I start night flying tonight, and if I can stay on the beam and not have any accidents I’ll be “in.” Now, if I’m made a Flight Officer, I’ll be just about the happiest guy in the world. Wings and bars, a furlough slip in my pocket and on my way to see the most wonderful gal in the world. 28 February 1944 My intuitions had been correct. This trunk was a very special secret of my mother’s heart that she kept safely hidden away. I began to cry. My mother had kept these letters for over thirty years as a reminder of a love that even death could not end. I don’t know how I can tell you how much I love you, after having you in my arms just two short days ago . . . Golly, baby, I feel like a new man, no kiddin’ . . . I go around telling all the guys I know that I’m engaged . . . to the sweetest girl in the whole world. 15 March 1944 My father trained at different air fields in the South, then was assigned to the 328th Fighter Squadron and the 352nd Fighter Group stationed in England and later Belgium during the war. These letters must have sustained my mother and held her together during the war years and after her husband’s untimely death ten years later. I think about what I’m going to do after the war. If I make the grade and get my wings and outlive the war, I’m going to try and get a connection with an airline . . . I’d sure like to retire after the war and just love you! 15 March 1944 BACK COVER Letters from the Heart is a story of Dana A. Webb, Jr., “Cobby,”, a P-51 pilot, assigned to the 328th Fighter Squadron and the 352nd Fighter Group stationed in England and Belgium during World War II. It is a work of nonfiction based primarily on letters written by Cobby Webb to his parents and his girlfriend, Evelyn, who later became his wife. There are more than 250 letters telling the story of a young pilot in training and in war, a son devoted to his family, and the love between a man and woman who meet by chance and find magic that lasts a lifetime. The book reads like a diary and includes stories and information related to daily life at home, at various aviation cadet training sites, and historical events happening in the United States and abroad during 1940's wartime. World War II, unlike other wars since, brought the United States of America together as a country, united for the good of all. The generation of men and women who grew up during the Great Depression and went on to fight in World War II or contribute on the home front became known as “The Greatest Generation.” They sacrificed and fought because it was the right thing to do, and afterward, they rebuilt America into a world power. This book holds the experiences, feelings, and words of two of America’s greatest generation.