Executive secretary to the president of the Bayer Company, my mother had formidable typing skills (on a tough-keyed manual 1940s typewriter, she could pound out 70-80 words a minute with seldom a mistake. She took shorthand at 80 wpm).
In this letter, which she typed, Mom congratulates Frank on the War Department letter (see earlier posts), updates Frank on the bad condition of his father’s knees, and adds homey tidbits written in a lively voice to talk about Chicago on the home front; from shopping to my dad’s latest deferment from military service.
In this letter, the National Die Casting Co. writes to the Selective Service, explaining why my dad’s work was crucial to the war effort here at home