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Victoria Whitaker's avatar

I've written letters to inmates occasionally over the years. More than one a romantic interest of sorts (none of which went anywhere, fortunately). One a family member. That said, I was an inveterate letter writer (likely nurtured by watching my mom sit at her typewriter tapping out letters to my dad who was stationed overseas). In the 50s and 60s (hell! 70s-80s-90s!) letter writing was a luscious pastime. I wrote to everyone--friends, boyfriends, acquaintances, etc. Besides the telephone there really wasn't much besides letter writing to stay in touch. Getting a letter in the mail was a heart-thumping experience. Especially if it was a thick envelope!

Suggestions to letter writers--It's okay to start with crap about the weather, but don't stay there. Your words need to resonate with intimacy (not physically romantic, though that is sometimes appropriate), rather craft a reflective conversation between you and the recipient. Avoid assessments like "cool," "good," "awesome," "exciting," and the like. Say why something or someone lS that adjective. That's the intimate part. Also--don't end your letter at the bottom of a page and sign your name on the final otherwise blank page. Better to squeeze in a tiny send-off and signature than to waste an entire page with nothing but your name.

I saved letters for decades (organized by time, divided by sender). I had boxes and boxes of letters (not as many as 45 and certainly not of international interest). I finally decided they needed to be shredded. Same with more than a few of my journals. I was pretty bitter and hollow with disappointment for large chunks of time.

Has anyone else saved letters?

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Mary Van Pelt's avatar

Hi Andi, Although my story is not the same as yours, I too was a college student when I met a prisoner through a friend of a friend in 1979. He was serving a life sentence in Canon City, Colorado, and I was living in Alamosa. I was 24 and he was 26. We were both starved for human connection when we began writing. The letters quickly became intimate, and healing, as we revealed our life stories to each other. I was a regular visitor, I drove 138 miles each way, every other Sunday. Our relationship changed significantly through the decades, but we kept in touch. He was out of prison and living in the Denver area when he died in 2021, at age 67. Our stories let others know they are not alone.

Prison is isolating for both the prisoner who is locked "inside" and friends and family in the "outside" world. Thank you for sharing your story.

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