My darling Ruth,
Perhaps I can write you a decent ^sort of letter today. For the last two or three days I’ve been so down-hearted, cross, and altogether disagreeable I haven’t even been fit company for myself, but since I have those spells once in a while you might as well find it out before it’s too late. Of course it’s foolish and all that, but emotionally my reactions are on about the same level as those of a six-year old, for I’m hurt when no hurt was intended, I brood over things, I say things as a result which I don’t mean at all, and am a pretty unattractive person at such times. You have been so sweet to me that my heart aches at the memory, and yet I act like I do on account of one or two little things of which you were probably entirely unconscious. We can thrash is all out when you get home—letters are so unsatisfactory; however, if you don’t return pretty soon I’m likely to be in solitary confinement.
There has been no interest paid on the loans at all. I couldn’t see any virtue in borrowing money to pay it. Last year I talked to the Treasurer, Mr. Zumbalen‹1›, who said I could just let it go and he would do nothing about it. This Spring I talked to Dr. Clopton‹2›, who said it might just as well be let go, and who assured me that I need not worry about repaying the principle ^principal at the rate called for on the notes if it would interfere with my internship, since, as he put it, they wouldn’t loan me the money to go through school then force me to have the most important part of my training more or less ruined. So what is the use?
Just four more days until Friday and the exam. As usual, I sort of loafed along with the study for a while, and am making the drive more intense the nearer the time for the test approaches. The [illegible] finishing of my last examination is one of the ambitions of my life.
But the thing to which I look forward with the greatest eagerness is your return. Everything would be different if you weren’t away—that is probably what has caused most of my ill humor. No matter what I may do or say you can always be certain that,
I still love you dearly,
Harold
2 Comments
wow, Zumbalen’s an easy one — first google hit returns this, which informs us that:
AccessGenealogy.com has a nice bio.
Malvern Bryan Clopton (1875-1947) [photo] appears in three oral histories, largely in the context of his involvement as Chief of Surgery in Base Hospital No.21, a WW I medical unit from WUSTL, and later as commander of Mobile Hospital No. 4. In 1934, Dr. Clopton was a professor of clinical surgery at the WU School of Medicine and Chief of Staff at St. Luke’s Hospital. He was also President of the Corporation of Washington University at this time, which may have been the context for Harold speaking to him about his loans. He was one philanthropic cat — at different times, he donated buildings, medical equipment for entire hospital wings, and an 800-acre farm to WUSTL.
The Malvern B. Clopton Jr/Sr. High School in Clarkesville, MO is presumably named for him. The Malvern B. Clopton Experimental Farm (formerly Brookhill Farm), also in Clarkesville, was gifted to WUSTL for experiments in nutritional agriculture, but it seems to no longer be in WUSTL’s portfolio. One might assume that this farm was once the Walker summer residence (q.v. below).
Bugger… I’d typed loads more and then closed the window by accident. Most of the lost references came from the NY Times archives — search for “Malvern B. Clopton,” “Gerard B. Lambert” and a few other names for the straight dish.
• Lily Lambert was an heiress of the Lambert Pharmaceutical Co., responsible for Listerine, among other products.
• James Walker was heir of the Ely & Walker Dry Goods Co. (incidentally the same “Walker” that puts the “W” in G.W. Bush”)
????: Lily Lambert and James T. Walker wed and have a son, James Theodore Walker.
1906: James Walker (Sr.) dies in a gasoline explosion near the garage of his summer home in Clarksville, MO, leaving Lily a widow.
1909: Malvern B. Clopton marries Lily Lambert Walker.
1911: Lily Lambert Walker Clopton dies (circumstances unknown), leaving a $5 mil inheritance to her son, James T. Walker.
1927: Shortly after graduating from Princeton, James T. Walker dies in a plane crash. He was flying with a George Lambert (a relation?) when their plane lost a wing. Lambert survived the crash landing. James’ will leaves $3.75 mil to his stepfather, Dr. Malvern B. Clopton.
1928: Dr. Malvern B. Clopton crews on the Atlantic, a schooner owned by Gerard B. Lambert, brother of his deceased wife Lily Lambert Walker Clopton. They place 2nd in the King of Spain’s trans-Atlantic Cup.
1933: Gerard B. Lambert divorces his wife, Rachel Lowe Lambert.
1934: Dr. Malvern B. Clopton marries Rachel Lowe Lambert (July 14,1934).
All very intricate and inbred bluebloody, what-what?
The Clopton Family genealogical site has a brief bio of the man.
There’s more at Access Genealogy, where the entry notes that “Dr. Clopton resides at No. 5391 Waterman avenue,” about a block and a half from Ruth.