When Richard (Dick) Ingram began writing letters to his wife Doris in the ‘50’s, inaugurating a tradition was not his intention. His motivation was more basic. He needed an economical way to maintain contact with her while serving in the Enlisted Reserves. Phone calls were too expensive. He remembers, “I found it relaxing to write letters.” Doris was most appreciative of his efforts and enjoyed his letters, and wrote to him, but admits, “Letter writing wasn’t as memorable for me.” Dick returned home, becoming very involved in family life and his career as a teacher and coach at Limestone Community High School. The need for letter writing was satisfied.
The couple lived in Bartonville with their three children, Pam, Teresa, and Tim. Fast-forward and Pam leaves for college at Eastern Illinois University. Dad starts writing letters to his firstborn. The tradition begins.
Letter writing is typically a Sunday afternoon activity. A yellow lined legal pad is the stationery of choice. Words are written front and back on the paper in penmanship that mixes writing and printing. The format remains intact today, with letters mailed to his children and grandchildren and other relatives and friends.
Letter writing is a passé art,” says Dick, but he says it’s not difficult for him. “I look forward to it.” And the people he writes to look forward to receiving the letters.
“My Dad is a more traditional kind of man on the phone,” says Pam who lives in Maine. “But when he’s writing letters, he’s much wordier and writes in such a thoughtful way. His letters have always meant a lot to me. It’s so refreshing to read them.”
Dick admits he’s not a telephone talker. He visits with family when they call, but he’s more comfortable writing a letter. He’s quick to credit Doris with sending thoughtful cards and emails, neither of which are his style. Pam says, “I think email feels artificial to him.”He prefers to write his thoughts and comments, not type them.
Teresa says her collection of letters from her Dad is one of the things she would make certain she took from her house if she had to leave quickly. Like family photos, the letters are very precious to her. Her sons have saved their collection of letters from Grandpa and stored them safely in a trunk.
Tim, the youngest Ingram, lives in Maryland, and is quick to admit he’s not a letter writer. But his Dad’s efforts are much appreciated. He remembers his friends in college and those he served with in the Army when he was stationed in Europe found it special that he received a letter from his Dad each week. Tim’s wife Nina says they’ve saved some letters, especially those written after the birth of their children or around holiday times. She says, “We all look forward to the letters. It’s always the same size envelope that arrives and we know what it is!”
Dick says, “I’m not offended if someone doesn’t write back. There’s no expectation of getting something in return. I’d rather have a one-way communication than none at all.” And while he doesn’t try to convince others to write letters, he plans to continue sharing news in his familiar style.
His family says his letters have a certain pattern. They begin with commentary on the weather, details about what he and Doris are doing, and news about people in the area or about the kids his kids grew up with. “He’s still very connected to people,” says Pam, “and it’s neat to read all that he writes.” Tim says the letters are very consistent, and almost always arrive on Wednesday or Thursday. “It’s very rare he misses a week.”
If imitation is indeed the sincerest form of flattery, Dick Ingram, a retired teacher and Guidance Director, can be proud. His three children all have pursued careers in education and one of his grandsons recently left a remembrance for his mom on her bed, a handwritten letter. And the tradition continues.
