Regarding Mary Schmich’s column “Love letters in the alley” (Oct. 18), our family has a similar trove. My mother, Mabel, who died four years ago at 108, cared for my four siblings and me in a two-bedroom apartment on Avers Avenue while our father worked for the Army in Nome, Alaska, over 1944-45. How she managed is beyond knowing. But she made time almost every night to write a letter to Dad in Nome, and he penned as many letters to her. We eventually learned of a box of their letters, but none of us siblings ever dared peek at them until we had to close out Mom’s apartment.
In a 12-month span, they wrote more than 600 letters between them, and many contain the sort of intimacy that could not be shared with us kids … until now. It is a mystery to us now what to do with them. They are documents of another time, full of love and life.
— Richard Ball, Oak Park
Handwritten letters are a joy
I just read the column by Mary Schmich about these old letters being tossed out. Luckily Eric Wolforth found them. What a treasure!
In a time when the world is upside down and you open the paper to read bad news over and over, here is this great love story from long ago. Eric did such a great thing to reunite these beautiful letters to the rightful owners.
I just wanted to thank you for such an uplifting front page! Those were the days of real love and romance. Nothing beats a handwritten letter.
— Marlene Krakowski, Chicago
Stamps speak of history
Because I’m a stamp collector, the photo of envelopes from the World War II era on the front page of Sunday’s paper immediately caught my attention. The hobby of stamp collecting is about so much more than just stamps. It’s history, as Mary Schmich’s column well illustrates.
In these pandemic days, some people are discovering how good it is to have a hobby — another world in which to live during troubling times. And none is better than stamp collecting. The American Philatelic Society is “America’s stamp club.” Its website, stamps.org, can open a gateway into this fascinating world.
— Rodney A. Juell, Joliet
A story of love and devotion
I was so touched by the story of Eric Wolforth and Catherine and Leo Lee placed right on the front page of the Sunday edition. The Tribune could have headlined so many other divisive and/or sad topics for this edition, but your staff boldly chose a heartwarming story of love and devotion of members of our Greatest Generation.
I was impressed by Wolford’s alley find and his subsequent tracking down of the family members so they could have these letters to pass down to their families.
We need more articles like this to strengthen our faith in humanity.
— Kathy Knapp, Henderson, Nevada
Hospital rules create heartbreak
The draconian restrictions that many hospitals and nursing facilities have put on patients and their families must cease. A very close family member of mine was recently hospitalized at one of the NorthShore hospitals. Due to his illness, he was unable to speak or care for himself. Because of the strict policies at the hospital, his wife of 57 years and someone he has known for over 70 years could not see him, could not vouch for him, could not touch him and could not care for him. NorthShore’s answer was that she could use Zoom or FaceTime. He couldn’t even pick up a fork to eat.
Mental health for someone’s care is oftentimes at least as important as his or her physical and medical care. I fully support social distancing and the wearing of masks. I am all for frequent hand-washing. Visitors to hospitals that have more open policies are rightfully screened for symptoms, checked for fevers and mandated to wear masks. A family member would not see other at-risk patients other than their own, and yet some administrators are keeping families apart, citing patient safety.
Who are they reasonably protecting by these measures? I see more people potentially at risk by going to the grocery store or the hardware store than going to a hospital to see one family member.
Hospitals cannot easily measure the mental health of patients, particularly those who are unable to communicate.
— Scott Luke, Northbrook
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