My favorite Dear John letters | TheFencePost.com

My favorite Dear John letters

John M. Sibbitt
Hyannis, Neb.

The month of May. Gyms and stadiums will soon be packed with relatives and friends witnessing for a fact that their kid is graduating from High School. That means in most small towns in the area, that Mother’s Day is pre-empted by the best gift a child can give a parent … leaving.

This important rite of passage for the American teenager signals the end of a certain way of life for the family. For some it will mean no more carting around van loads of students to sporting events. No more attending endless plays, recitals or contests of wits … freedom.

For the graduates they will leave lasting impressions on each other as friends or rivals; fellow sufferers of math and English classes, the culinary disappointments of nutrition breaks and lunch times. And what will end up being the most lasting impression?

The words inscribed in their yearbooks.

Many of us, in the dark ages – perhaps due to a lack of darkrooms – did not have yearbooks, but instead employed little autograph books to gather the signatures and sentiments of girls we wanted to impress or anyone we wanted to gawk at for a bit as they bent their head in pensive penmanship to scribble a particular smart little “ditty” that would be their trademark. At least, that is what we did at Curtis Ag, Class of 1940.

Even today, as I look at my autograph book, I am struck that none of the priceless poems, (well, tidbits of verse) ever repeat; each page of pearls of ponderings reflects its poet’s personality perfectly.

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So, graduates of 2010, may you take a page from my (autograph) book and someday know you, too, will look back on your time, with a smile and wonderment.

Oct. 18. 1939

Dear John,

Mary had a little lamb

She fed it castor oil

And every time it turned around

It fertilized the soil.

Lucille Williams

* * * * *

Nov 2, 1939

Dear John,

I loved myself

I loved me so

That I took myself to a picture show

I put my arms around my waist

And I got so fresh that I slapped my face.

Kathleen Scharf

May your life be like a snowflake, leave a mark

But not a stain.

* * * * *

Oct. 24, 1939

Dear John,

If these few lines

You ‘ine regret

Burn them and me forget.

But as you watch them ascend,

Remember they were written by a true friend.

As Ever,

Velma N.

* * * * *

Oct. 24, 1939

Dear John,

The higher the mountain

The cooler the breeze

The younger the couple

The tighter the squeeze.

As always, a friend,

Betty Mae Heater

* * * * *

Nov. 1, 1939

Dear John,

Though your list of friends be many

And of me you never think,

In you’re golden chain of friendship

Count me as one drink.

Sincerely,

Katherine Schroeder

* * * * *

Dear John,

Your life lies before you

Like drifts of pure white snow.

Be careful how you tread it

For every step will show.

An aggie friend,

Alyce Rasmussen

* * * * *

Nov. 20, 1939

Dear John,

Think of a bed bug,

Think of a flee

When one bites you,

Think of me.

An Aggie pal,

Mary Enfield

* * * * *

Oct. 24, 1939

Dear John,

Roses are red,

Violets are blue

Grass is green

And so are you.

Sincerely,

Georgianna Tawne

* * * * *

Oct. 23, 1939

Dear John, (Fibber)

Heartbreaker is your name

Single is your station

I pity the dame

That makes the alteration.

Always, A Friend,

Betty Loether

* * * * *

John,

Old Mother Hubbard

Went to the cupboard

To get her poor dog a bone

When she got there,

The cupboard was bare

Shame on the cupboard!

A NSA pal,

Edward

* * * * *

November 20, 1939

Dear John,

Peaches in the cupboard

Apples on the trees

Don’t go a’courtin’

In your Bee Vee Dees.

Your NSA Pal,

Mildred Delatour

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