1935 - Letter to Jewel from her Mother and Dad

This letter is transcribed below for easier reading but the handwriting is so beautiful to see. Jewel Mae Jacobson attended the Arizona State Teachers College of Tempe (currently Arizona State University) from the time she graduated high school until she married Clarence Crandall. Her Major was in education with emphasis in music. Jewel's mother, Sarah Loella Wright-Jacobson (also known as "Nellie" and "Ma Jake") was also a teacher.

(Click on each page to enlarge)

Page 1

Page 2

Page 3

Page 4

Page 5

Friday Night Nov 15, 1935

Dearest Jewel Mae,

I was so glad to receive your precious letter and the good news! I was thrilled over your grades. But look what you could do honey if you would study hard. You would be a 1 student. This pleases me very much. Gives me a good warm feeling inside, also your success in the play.

I read in the paper the Tempe News and saw where Mary Jacobson had a lead in the play. I wonder if there was a mistake in the name. I hope not as I know [Larie?] watches the news. She said she did and another thing I would like to cut it out.

I am so happy because you are so happy and satisfied with your school. I want you to make a name for yourself. You have the talents and intelligence to go far and where much is given much is expected. Sometimes I am afraid I will love you so much my ideal will fall and I will fall with it.

I have never had an occasion to mistrust you once and I hope my dear I can allways say the same.

Well now for some of the happenings since you left. Ray went at six o'clock tonight to Mesa. A party of twelve boys with Bishop Marvin Clifford, Brother George Russell, Grant Layton, and Kemp Clifford.

They are going to do baptisms in the Arizona Temple for the dead. There were also twelve girls went with their chaperones. I surely think it is a wonderful privilege for those youngsters.

Daddy has gone to the fight being P.J. He gets in all the fights and wrestling matches free and he likes it.

Conover has broken his glasses and he is lost without them. He would like to go to Phoenix and see a good eye Dr. He hasn't had his glasses changed since he was eleven yrs. old. I surely hope he can go. There are several things he wants to do. I suppose he wouldn't care if I told you. He wants to go to the Temple and place his name on the altar and also to have his endowment. I am going to do all I can to help him accomplish his desires. He is such a good boy, and so worthy of the best.

Genevieve spent the day with me and we enjoyed the day so much. She feels pretty miserable. But I do not fear so much anymore. Jewel, I want to write you something I read. It expresses my thots exactly. Let the girls read it.

The Believer Speaks

I like this generation. I like this world in which this generation lives.

I like the way it laughs - with head thrown back and wide mouth ful of wolf white teeth.

I like the way its built - slender and supple as a willow wand, to bend and not to break.

I like the way it moves - like a bird swooping direct and certain, but graceful withal.

I like the way it talks - distinctly, plainly, chary of words and prodigal with laughter.

I like the way this rising generation works - matter-of-factly, and with a proper pride.

I like the way it plays - wholeheartedly, gaily, with a nice appreciation of the fine points of every sport, with a really sporting spirit and a liking for them all.

I like the way this rising generation dresses - riding hatless in the easy comfort of jodshpurs and open shirt, or swimming in bathing togs - its street clothes trim as a clipper ship - its evening dress formal to the degree of elegance and charm.

I like this rising generation - its nonchalance that lifts a politely bored eyebrow at reference to the "Golden Rule" the while it tucks a steadying hand beneath Old Age's elbow.

I like this generation, it's wisdom and the poise it gains therewith and I like its delightful occasional descent into infantile ingeniousness.

I like its canniness - that leaves a picnic ground immaculate but strews its small belongings from attic to front door at home, for those whose best love shows itself in service to pick up.

I like this rising generation - I admire its standards, its overwhelming honesty, its clear wise mind in a clean fit body, it's persistence, the sporting spirit in which it takes it's knocks - or having attained a measure of success, the whole-heartedness with which it extends the helping hand to the next fellow. I like its perfect grooming - from dense bright hair to shining finger tips and well shod high arched eager feet.

I like its friendliness and cool indifference.

I like its level-headedness in danger, it's efficiency in difficulties. I like it for its daring to do , it's basic strength and fineness.

I like this rising generation - with its future held securely in both hands, strong slim hands, a smile on its lips and high hope in its young heart, it's desire to be charming and lovable. I like this rising generation. (Selected.)

Darling, this was a task to copy but it is so much of my own that I wanted you to read it.

So good night my love,

From Mother.

Dear Jewel, It is Sewer collecting time and I have been quite busy, and I missed my little helper in making out the Sewer cards, but I am making it O.K. Mother told you about all of the news, so be good until I see you again, on Thanksgiving.

Dad.