Friday, November 29, 2013
June 16, 1969 Dear Mom, I haven’t written you for several months now. I am sorry for not doing so. I been on tour in north vietnam and havent had much time. I mean, I havent wanted to. Some times I am a different person. I have become ingulfed in the war mom and I want out. I have lossed control of who I am. I have done things that I would not normally do but had no choice. Today is the day after a fire fight in the jungle. It went through the night, all night. Most battles are done during the night to ware on the enimy, the fact is it wares on all.It is number 16 fire fight in the past month. It has been total caos and no joke. My friends that I have been with for several months are gone. Making new friends is out because most will die and I don’t need any more memories. I now sit and write my only friend, you. I miss my home town and as simple as it might seem I wish I could walk the streets of our town. I don’t know how to say it, the side walks I wish to walk now. My friend Tommy was shot and killed during the early morning. I tried to carry him to a medic but was taken down by a bullet to the leg. He died mom. This is some one I talked to and hung out with and trusted. No longer do I want friends they die. I am being patch up and they tell me that I am going home. I would like to come home now. waken up to you and your love is what I miss. I have no love now. Tell Dad to sell or give away my hunting guns away, I don’t want to kill no more. Please think of me when you can, it gives me strength. Love your son, Dess
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Nobody is saying it so I will. I would like to take a moment and thank the trend setters in the fashion world with regard to black tights and furry snow boots. It’s going to be a good winter. Recently driving through Keene, NH, a town built around a college, I encountered difficulty driving down Main St and staying focused on the road ahead of me. This reminded me to buy sunglasses, I was spotted several times gazing while entering a popular Irving gas station for coffee. Irving is good for cheap sunglasses. With my new set of “shades” I toured the town.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
A letter written to his son dated 1865, by Dess Dear D, It has been along time sence I have seen you. You dont know how much I miss you. My heart grows weak. I am sure that you have heard or read that I have signed up with Jesse and his crew. D., they call him a outlaw, I call him a friend. His motive is political mine is for the money. I going to make things right.I want a home for you and your sisters and this is what it is going to take. The trail has been hard on all that have been involved. I have seen many die. The rain on the trail hurts. The wet the cold D., I sit and think of you. Hope school is going well and your learning to write. Its a different time coming D.,watch and learn. People will talk bad about me, they are only romers. I couldn't write you untill now. We have been on the trail and it has been difficult for me to stop and write you. I have been inm fear of my life. The rain has just stopped after 4 days, I am wet and tired. Jesse has been getting angry at the news papers. They have been saying things that arent true. For the record, D. we are not horse thives as been stated in the papers, we leave are worn out horses for them. This is a must as we have been trailed for some time now. I dont like stealing horses but we need fresh legs to carry on. I will see you and be with you soon,,,keep me in mind it gives me straighth Love your Dad