The Dead Letters File
Earlier, Robert Stein provided us with an excellent analysis of the sad demise of newspapers, magazines and books. While this is an important topic, particularly for those with an interest in history and how future generations will learn of our times, there is another form of the printed word which has already come to the point of extinction. That is the ancient practice of letter writing.
While composing this piece I searched my memory for my own track record in penning letters. As a young man I was dutiful in this area. When I left home to join the military on a six year journey around the world, I frequently wrote home to my parents and other family members. I shared with them my experiences, observations, triumphs and failures. (Along with the occasional begging for a plane ticket home at Christmas.) It was cathartic for me and kept them in touch with my life. This winter my mother, now in her 80′s, mentioned that she still has all of those letters in a collection of shoe boxes.
When is the last time I wrote a letter? To be honest, I’m not even sure. I think it was in the early to mid 90′s. I used to enjoy writing and receiving letters, particularly in the military. Long distance phone calls were expensive and sometimes not even possible. The internet was unheard of, so penning a letter was often the only, not just best option.
Letters form a significant portion of our body of history. I’m currently reading Jon Meacham’s excellent book, American Lion, about the life and times of President Andrew Jackson. Large portions of Jackson’s life are only revealed through the letters he sent to friends, family and associates, or letters they sent to him. People saved those letters, much as my mother saved mine. They were important and cherished. Beyond just presidents, much of what we know of most historical figures throughout our history come from these same sources. A large body of our knowledge of the American Civil War comes to us from the pages of anguished letters sent home to mom by soldiers in the field.
When cheap, long distance phone service became more widely available, letter writing decreased. I suppose it speaks to mankind’s fundamental attraction to instant gratification. Telegrams were slow, costly and not much more satisfying then postal correspondence, but phone calls could instantly take the place of a dozen letters written over a period of weeks or months. And, of course, e-mail was the final nail in the coffin.
Yes, Google will keep track of the “written word” on the web for some time, but e-mails are rarely if ever printed, generally discarded to the virtual trash bin after reading and leave no permanent record to be saved in a box. This is saddening to me. Many of us in the modern age will live and die leaving virtually no hard copy, written legacy to our thoughts, dreams and experiences. Is it too late to step back from the abyss? While I hate to be too depressing, I think that ship has sailed. We are cheapening our history, except for those in the most high profile positions, and the world will be the poorer for it.
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7 Responses to “The Dead Letters File”
Jazz, you expressed my thoughts exactly. My wife for many years had a box of letters I had written to her one summer. We eventually discarded them, but I can't see her having printed out e-mails to save them. There's just something more personal about handwriting. In fact, my son has had scores of offers from colleges. When he gets one that is hand addressed, or with a handwritten note, he actually reads it, even though he's already chosen a school. The other computer printed ones go straight in the trash.
I'm 35 years old and a solid technophile. And I miss the letter writing days intensely. I remember I went to summer camp the summer before 7th grade (courtesy of a great mentor of mine). I met this young lady there that left a huge impression on me. Here I was, a black boy from inner city Detroit and here was this white girl from the upper peninsula of Michigan. To me, she was like a light. So different to what I was accustomed to in the “D”. We talked and talked and talked. When camp was over, we exchanged addresses and promised to write to each other about anything and everything. We wrote each other consistently from 7th grade to the end of 12th grade. And we talked about boyfriends, girlfriends, parents, school, food, music, love, etc. And even though I was in my “black nationalism” phase as a teenager, I always shared another side of myself to her. I still have all the letters.
It's something intensely personal about a written letter, as you and Manchester have said. I haven't looked at that box of letters until I read your post Jazz. Man you've made a big ol' black dude get all misty eyed!
Jazz:
I share a similar nostalgic experience with Manchester. My wife has kept all the postcards (sometimes letters) I used to send her from my various “RON's” (Remain OverNight) during my young Air Force flying days. Once-in-a-while, she'll get the box out and we'll spend some time reminiscing.
You're right, we hardly ever write or receive letters anymore.
“Thanks for the memories”
Dorian
The other thing we want that phone calls provide that letters can't is instant feedback. The flow of conversation, even over the wires. But your points about what is lost in terms of letter writing are definitely valid. As a science fiction fan who has read the books about the history of fandom I appreciate what letters to the magazines and then letters to each other meant to the fans who started everything back in the '40s and onward. It is a shame that much of what is written by current generations will not have a place in future history.
Handwritten letters are apparently one of the 24 things about to disappear in America.
And I have friends who wonder why I'm so insistent that I at least send Christmas cards – real ones made of paper, that I put stamps on and send through the post office. This post has inspired me to get out what stationery I have stashed here and there, and send some thoughts to family and a few close friends, just because. Thank you!
I linked to this on my blog and challenged my readers to write one letter this weekend. It might be too artificial to revive the art, but if they can save a dead language, why not try this?