Wednesday evening, July 8, 1964 Dear Patricia: You were very sweet to me last evening—as was Jon-when the three of us had dinner at 17 West and then went to the Hyatt House to dance. I especially appreciated Jon’s letting me have the last dance with you-though I thought perhaps he would want one more with you. Perhaps he was tired and the hour anyway was late. However, I want you to know –perhaps you do anyway-how grateful I am for our trust and love (I hope) for me how much each association with you deepens my affection for you and my appreciation of you as a person. You are the brightest most vital and refreshing young person who has entered my inner circle in a long, long, time. I am one who must have the real love of at least a few young persons to sustain me. If I had to face the prospect of having my inner circle of beloved persons-young and old, the latter those with still vital minds, replaced by the truly old who have given up their ideals and spirit of adventure, I would shrivel and die of loneliness and depression. My wife and I, as most person who knew us together were well aware, lived a very full land at times an intense life but always it was filled with young persons of all ages, for we worked mostly with them. My love you is such that I would gladly adopt you as my foster daughter-were that possible or necessary to establish a relationship that I could freely tell to anyone. Certainly I could no more proud of you, nor could I love you more if you were my very own daughter! Or, I should be happier than I could say, if you were to do as two or three others do—call me “Uncle Dunc,” for the solves many questions that otherwise might arise. Anyway, sooner or later, it seems that some such “quasi-formal” relationship needs to be established to protect our relationship and especially to protect you. Actually, though I feel close to you as a very dear and beloved young friend-but more as an equal than as anything else. I know it looks much better for you to be in the company of a young man such as Jon than with me, unless some socially approved status for our relationship we can be established that will leave us free to be our own individual selves who can—in subtle ways, but without any crippling inhibition, express our feelings, share (within due measure) griefs and joys, discoveries and exultations, etc. This is a primary reason for my wanting an additional dinner date with you as soon as you are settled and can spare the time. I need to know what you want me to be to you, what the limitations of expression of my feelings toward you (and conversely) must be to leave you feeling completely free so that every wholesome relation or feeling between us can be expressed as occasion makes desirable. Certainly I do not want even to appear to impose any attitude or maintain any relationship toward you could hurt you in the least. I’d rather fold up, disappear, an die. But I do not think that necessary. I admire you for your intellect, for your accomplishments in spite of economic strain-for your pride in wanting to solve all your problems as long as possible. I do not want you to undergo any real or unnecessary hardship or deprivation and I am able to help as I have explained, so I do want you to feel free to call for help if and when it would solve any real problem for you. Of my helping you would ease your problem of helping your mother and your little brothers and sisters—please let me do so. Let me do something for you. I’d like you to feel as free to call me for transportation. For example, the rest of the summer I will be on “vacation “officially for me and I can arrange my time and affairs pretty much as I wish-even with dental and optometrist’s appointments, occasional weddings of former students and friends (as on Aug. 1) thrown in. But do let me do something. And please, do (in whatever way I am entitled to it) let me know that you love me—say it in English, German, Italian, or hattentot [?]—or just with your eyes or your voice-it will be no matter. I’ll respond with occasional poetry as I have already. No one else has ever stimulated me so much with poetic expression. My wife and I met more on a plane of earnest endeavor-with admiration, respect, and affection all along the way—but she was not poetically inclined--[she] did not seem to feel the need of it (though often I starved for it silently)—so I am doing her injustice in saying this-and she would freely declare were here. There also were a couple of areas in which I suspect I rarely satisfied her hopes or longings—this seems to be true of most persons-though few of any your friends realized this and most though so completely complementary that they might have been astonished had we ever discussed our few inadequacies with them. Mostly we were too busy doing things with and for young people of all ages even to have to worry much about inadequacies. Our musical tastes, to different some respects and were alike in others. In areas where your interests lie, I also have interests-but much to learn I these. I look up to you and admire you. I ask sometime to hear you sing for the sheer joy it will be and not with any shred of thought of critical judgment. I can learn much from you-in the time you can afford to give me-and I’ll ask for no more. But I agree with your statement when you said that for fullness of life one needs several loves and having found you (I hope I am not according too much importance to anything that has happened these last ten days). I feel that you are one of mine, deeply, profoundly, sweetly, and genuinely. I hope that I may continue to merit your return. Do I seem to be laboring this point too much? If so-I can say, that once we can understand each other in terms of the external form our relationship should take—I’ll have no more reason most of the time even to mention it. I’m just so fond of you that I’m somewhat scared. Many things are easily understood and accepted by all of our associates when we are out on a Field School location. When the “maddening crowd” surges back on campus in the fall, it will not be so easy and this what I want to prepare you for. So-I hope you will be going to the reunion Sunday at Bryon’s. If you stay over with Carol and Reggie that will be fine. I’ll see you there-and the day lights up with sunshine whenever I see you or hear your lilting voice-but if I can transport you, I’ll be delighted beyond words. I will meet any program any program you set-up, starting as late as you wish so just as to get there in time, etc. With a full heart and hoping that you’ll excuse my four sheets of writing—“Je T’amie” etc. and I am thrilled when you call me “Carl.” Carl.
