Pull Yourself Up a Chair

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Fourth Letter Page 1

 

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Charles’ wit showed up in the most interesting places in his letter. He wrote his feelings much more honestly than he spoke when it came to sharing his thoughts with Olevia. The evening of November 4, 1943 brought a level of happiness into Charles’ heart he had never felt before. Nothing came close to it. Giddiness filled his entire body, so much so that he couldn’t sleep. Love had found its way into his soul.

Oh, how he hated to leave Olevia at the train station again. A place of joyful meeting and sad departing, the Boise Depot created mixed feelings in his gut. The Depot, where he had proposed to her as soon as he got off the train the night before and where she had said the one word he longed to hear, would forever be etched in his mind and life.

Goodbye came too quickly the following morning. Once they waved farewell and he got settled on the train, Charles wanted to tell everyone the news so the rest of the passengers could share in his overflowing joyful energy of having found the love of his life!

“Olevia said, ‘Yes!’ Do you hear? She said, ‘Yes!'”

Everyone on the train would applaud and holler, “Yeah!” Some of the men would pump their own fist in the air and then shake his hand and congratulate him. Others would slap him on the back with friendly affirmations. Some of the women would clap and nod and get a little misty-eyed for Charles and his new fiance’. Everyone would share in his happiness. The train ride went quickly that day. He only wished Olevia could have been with him so he could introduce her to every single passenger and afterward snuggle in the seat with her and wrap her in his loving arms and never let go.

Wasn’t it ironic how the war that had brought them together in the first place was the very thing that once again separated them from each other. Why did it have to be that way? Damn!

Since he couldn’t be with her right then, he chose instead to write to his soon-to-be wife about what love meant to him and how happy Olevia had made him. Today could not have been any better. Halfway between Ogden and Salt Lake City was when he settled down enough to write.

This was the fourth letter from Charles to Olevia and the first time he spelled her first name correctly. No doubt that subject was part of the conversation before she said, “Yes!”

Charles Meets Olevia

The middle of nowhere. Wendover Field had been built on the edge of the salt flats that didn’t have much else going for them. The mountains created a visual diversion from the colorless, desolate panorama. Charles Westbrook (my dad) decided to like it. He found advantages of being in a new place like this. It was part of the deal when he enlisted. Summertime allowed his body to acclimate to the season in this part of the vast United States. He realized he had never spent a winter further north than Oklahoma.He didn’t know if he would even be stationed here that long. Used to the stifling humidity and complete lack of breeze of inland Mississippi for the majority of his young life, the dry air felt good to his skin here and the cool nights brought a deep, restful sleep after working all day. He enjoyed exploring the surrounding areas on foot and bicycle in his free time, noticing the quality of the soil and whether it would be beneficial for raising crops. The farmer in him couldn’t help but analyze the arid earth. It reminded him how much he loved the green, lush landscape of Boise and the beautiful woman who lived there.

His mind once again drifted back to the days just before meeting her in June, 1943. He recalled talking with his buddy Wes. They had known each other for a couple of years now. After being transferred to Gowen Field in Boise, during one of their conversations, the subject of  Charles’ desire to meet a nice young woman came up. Wes smiled as he asked, “So, C. W., would you prefer a blonde, brunette, or a redhead?” C. W. was one of Charles’ many nicknames.

Charles didn’t hesitate. “How about a redhead!” A blind date was planned and a few nights later they walked up the three steps to Wes’ fiance’ Carol’s home. Wes knocked on the door and Carol let them in. C. W. immediately noticed a pretty redhead sitting on the couch in a flattering navy blue dress.

Wes made the introductions. “Olevia Harris, may I present Charles Westbrook.” C. W.’s heart picked up the pace. “Charles, may I present Olevia.”

“How do you do, Olevia?” C. W. reached for her hand as she stood up. He felt a quick rush of excitement and noticed with a hint of surprise that her lovely dark hazel eyes looked straight into his. This woman was a tall drink of water. He was six feet. Her soft, gentle hand fit into his rough, weathered one perfectly. She shook his hand with a somewhat firm, but not too firm, handshake.

“I’m very happy to meet you, Charles.” Olevia smiled deeply as she felt the blood rushing to her face. His curly black hair made her heart skip a beat. She sized him up in a few seconds. He looked very handsome in his uniform and his blue eyes seemed to smile right along with the rest of his tanned face. He was taller by a couple of inches – perfect for a dancing partner. She wondered if he liked to dance as much as she did. C. W. hesitated a second before he let her hand go.

C. W., Olevia, Wes, Carol, Jones, his girl Peg and a few other friends went to USO dances and clubs together, along with enjoying movies and bowling. It created a much needed distraction from the current events going on in the world. Time flew when they went out together and before he knew it, C. W. got his transfer orders to Wendover Field, Utah, about 300 miles from where he now wanted to be. Olevia drove him to the Boise train depot in her 1935 Dodge coupe that dreaded day where their kisses lingered and their embrace tightened. If only they could stay close to each other a little bit longer. They promised one  another it wouldn’t be long until they could be together again. As Charles reluctantly boarded the train and took his seat, he shook his head and wondered how he could be leaving so soon. He had barely met this woman who took his breath away even though he didn’t know much about her. He had been to her home a couple of times and met her mother. They hit it off immediately. He certainly wanted to know more about Olevia. As the train started to slowly chug away from the station for Wendover Field, he looked anxiously out the window for one last sight of her. Olevia stood alone, waving to him slowly, trying her best to smile through the tears that she unsuccessfully tried to hold back. She wondered if she would ever see Charles Westbrook again.