Letter from High Chimneys: Bars going broke, Rue stops drinking

Three of us left Detroit, October 1941. All the mothers and sisters were crying. I guess the old man was glad to get rid of us and the tuition. My Dad was sending money for my dog that was going to the University of Michigan with me taking a speech course. Dad came out to see our expensive educated dog. I said I shot him as he kept telling about the affair you were having with our maid. Dad replied, “are you sure the S.O.B. is dead?”