No. 8

Mrs. Quinn to Mrs. Lafayette: (Yes)

 Mrs. Lafayette

3245 N Southport Ave

Chicago, Illinois

June 25, 1940

Dear Mrs. Lafayette,

Thank you for your long and meaningful letter to my husband, Detective Quinn, who died before I could read them to him. What you wrote—about your life and stage work, and Julien and now of course, of course, you simply must finish the story about this Miss Minnie or “Win” as she liked to be called and now that you leave me hanging on. For want, yes, I do want a distraction.

On the morning he died, my husband insisted that I go to Mass and talk to the priest about arranging for the last rites, which I did do but we did not get to him in time, though I believe my good man had nothing but venial on him, well that’s all I can bear to carry, for I never did witness nothing mortally sinful about him, though certainly for sure I know he was tempted to hate all those criminals he rubbed against and as he pushed and shoved them down and against the walls, tossing them in the transports, but I can only believe in my own fainting heart that he wanted to stay with the Lord and was I afraid when I came home to find him dead, and here you might tell me some made-up ugly truth tell gab that he died all alone, but now, we don’t believe in that. No—for I brought the holy water home and placed it on his forehead and lips as I kissed them the last time and asked him, in confidence, for sure, to kiss Jesus, Mary, and Joseph – all of them – as well as my own kin, my side of the family, which he never knew much about, but I told him stories and stories of them so I am sure he will recognize them when he gets out of Purgatory and into Heaven, hopefully saving a place for me!

I will make you trust in me, Dear Mrs. Lafayette, for my husband is gone! Nothing more would give me comfort to know that you felt the call to write all that you did, to share with us all that you did.

Take it from both me and my husband, that we are pleased that you drove down to check on the other family of your Julien and now you must, I pray, trust that we—well, just me now, but I'm not afraid—can manage any secrets you may be inclined to disclose and take care of each other, two old birds you and I, could enjoy a conversation about truth and disappointments, and the hand holding we can do from afar. Please do tell me about who “Win” was on that farm.

Yes, please write! Start with, pray, with the farm. I do not understand how Julien could work on a farm at all, but do go on and let it out will you, sweetie?

Yours in Christ,

Mrs. Quinn

2025 Copyright Christine Friesel