My own sweet angel: The Love Letters of Peter Page

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Peter M. Page and Ann Pearman

For Valentine’s Day, we bring you a love let­ter. Peter M. Page joined the US Naval Air Corps after grad­u­at­ing with Prince­ton University’s Class of 1941. The fol­low­ing let­ter is part of the cor­re­spon­dence between Page and his fiancée Ann Pear­man (nee Aigu­ier) dur­ing his train­ing and mil­i­tary ser­vice. (The Peter M. Page papers are housed at the Mudd Man­u­script Library on the cam­pus of Prince­ton Uni­ver­sity. Click here for more about Page.)

Tran­script below images:

Approx­i­mately Jan­u­ary 20, 1942.
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Peter Page:1942 let­ter page 1

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Peter Page: 1942 let­ter page 2

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Peter Page: 1942 let­ter page 3
My own sweet angel–

I had the most mar­velous con­ver­sa­tion over the tele­phone this evening I ever had in my life, with the most mar­velous cre­ation in the his­tory of the world — you’ll never know how I felt this after­noon from the sec­ond I read that let­ter until I finally go you on the phone — as soon as I read it there was only one thing left for me to do and that was to call you as soon as pos­si­ble and find out just what was the story, the trou­ble, the sit­u­a­tion — if you ever doubted in all your life whether I love your or not today should have proven to you just exactly how ter­ri­bly much you do mean to me — if I’d had to go thru this entire night with­out know­ing the answer, with­out know­ing whether you loved me, it would have been too much. I’ve proven just how weak I am, that I couldn’t live with­out you — you mean so much to me that it ter­ri­fies me to think what would hap­pen if you left —– I was going to stay in town tonight and have a few drinks with the boys but after talk­ing to you, every­thing else lost all inter­est for me and after a nice big steak din­ner I came back here to the bar­racks where I could write you for the third time today. All I can think of is you, my dear-heart; you’re in my heart twenty-four hours a day and fac­ing the next four months with­out see­ing you is the black­est out­look pos­si­ble — how can I live four months with­out my “better-half” — its like liv­ing with­out my heart.

Dreamt about you last night — we were back at 10 Rad. Rd and were hav­ing some trou­ble con­vinc­ing Jean­nie that the upstairs instead of the down­stairs was the place for her — she finally gave in, dear­est, finally —
Good night my pre­cious — I wish you were here with me now, now and always, for­ever — be a good girl and love me as I love you, com­pletely & eternally
Yours and I do mean Yours
Peter
For good­ness sake don’t worry about Ma — how could she keep from lov­ing you as I do — and she’ll just love to see you because she knows how much I love you — You’re get­ting as silly as usual and that’ll never do.

Peter Page lost his life on Feb­ru­ary 13, 1943 in the after­math of the Guadal­canal cam­paign serv­ing as a Marine Corps pilot. Ann Pear­man calls Peter her “first real love” and was dev­as­tated by the loss; how­ever she went on to grad­u­ate from Vas­sar and has lived a long and pros­per­ous life.

The beginnings of American Football

Super­bowl Sun­day is once again upon us. As we head toward the “Big Game” you can’t help but think back to when inter­col­le­giate foot­ball gained its begin­nings right here in Princeton.

In the book A Prince­ton Com­pan­ion author Alexan­der Leitch notes that the first Amer­i­can inter­col­le­giate foot­ball game was played between Prince­ton and Rut­gers in New Brunswick on Novem­ber 6, 1869.

The Prince­ton Uni­ver­sity Archives, housed at Mudd Man­u­script Library, con­tains a trea­sure trove of mem­o­ra­bilia, pho­tographs and pro­grams from the early days of Prince­ton football.

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Prince­ton foot­ball team from 1879.
A Sou­venir Pro­gramme from the Princeton-Pennsylvania Foot-Ball Game from Novem­ber 5, 1892 gives a descrip­tion of the game. See the tran­script below.

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“Our Game of Foot-Ball” from a Sou­venir Pro­gramme dated Novem­ber 5, 1892.

Tran­script:
Our Game of Foot-Ball.

It is proper to call it our game,for the rea­son that Foot-ball, as you will see it played to-day, is pecu­liarly an insti­tu­tion of Amer­i­can Col­leges. From the time, how­ever, that man’s con­struc­tive genius evolved a large but airly light sphere, he has delighted to kick and chase it about in rivalry with his fel­lows. There­fore, Foot-ball, as a game, is not ours either in the sense of Amer­i­can or mod­ern. We read of games in the Mid­dle Ages, in which hun­dreds of men par­tic­i­pated, and the bounds of which were miles apart. Who has not laughed at the descrip­tion, in “Tom Brown’s School-days,” of the game into which the silk-hatted, gold spec­ta­cled grad­u­ates rushed-forgetful of dig­nity and clothing-remembering only the glory of their school and the intox­i­cat­ing delight of the game. Show me the boy or man even — indeed I will add old woman — who can see a foot-ball rolling tempt­ingly near the foot and yet feel no desire to kick it, and I would advise the con­sult­ing of some sen­si­ble physi­cian. But it would be well to speak only of our game. Among the spec­ta­tors there is undoubt­edly a large minor­ity who know actu­ally noth­ing about the tech­nique of “Inter-Collegiate” Foot-ball. Prob­a­bly half of the remain­der know just enough to arouse their curios­ity, and many of the other half feel that they do not know it all. Hence it does not seem untimely to describe the game in such a way that any, so desir­ing, may, by care­ful read­ing, know and enjoy Foot-Ball better.

THE GROUNDS
You will see, spread out before you, a field enclosed by white bouandry lines. Its length is 330 feet — its breadth 160 feet. Width-wise across this field you will see other white lines, drawn par­al­let and exactly five yards apart. Three of these “five-yard” lines are marked more heav­ily than the oth­ers. These are twenty-five yards from each end and the one in the cen­tre of the field. The end lines are called the “goal-lines.” In the cen­tre fo the lines you will see two posts twenty feet high, eigh­teen feet and six inches apart and con­nected ten feet from the ground by a straight bar. This-H like struc­ture is called the goal.

THE TEAMS
If you are prop­erly enthused, you will expe­ri­ence con­sid­er­able excite­ment when the teams come on the field about two-fifteen. Until the game is called there will be about twenty men at each end of the field, warm­ing up by pass­ing the ball, falling on it and kick­ing it. When it is time to play, how­ever, eleven only of each side strip off their sweaters and assem­ble at the mid­dle of the field. The con­ven­tional method for these men to line up on ordi­nary plays is as fol­lows: Seven of them, called “Rush­ers,” stand in line to pro­tect he “Backs,” who are the other four men. Of the Rush­ers, the man in the mid­dle is known as the Cen­tre Rush, and is the man to put the ball in play. On each side of him are the Guards — the one on his right being known as Right Guard, the other as Left Guard. The next man on each side is known as a Tackle, and the end men are known respec­tively as Right and Left End Rush. Of the Backs, the man who plays directly behind the Cen­tre Rush and takes the ball from him when he snaps it back is know as the Quar­ter Back. The other three backs stand in a line about five yards from the Rush­ers and are know respec­tively as Right and Left Half Backs and Full Back.

THE OFFICIALS
Con­sist of a Ref­eree and an Umpire. The prin­ci­pal duty of the for­mer is to watch the ball — tell to which side it belongs, how many downs it is, how far to gain, and whether the ball has been prop­erly put into play. The Umpire must watch the play­ers — keep them on side, pre­vent unfair hold­ing, decide with regard to the fair­ness of inter­fer­ence and pre­vent bru­tal­ity by send­ing from the field all men who strike, kick, throt­tle or are unnec­es­sar­ily rough.

THE GAME
When it is nearly time for the game to begin, the Ref­eree calls the two Cap­tains together and, by flip­ping a coin, deter­mine which team shall have the ball at the kick-off. The Cap­tain who does not get the ball always has a choice of the goals, and usu­ally chooses to defend the one from which the wind is blow­ing, so that the kick­ing may be more effec­tive. The Ref­eree now placed the ball in the exact cen­tre of the field, and the team hav­ing the kick-off forms itself into the shape of a V, with the apex over the ball and a man stand­ing in the angle to run with it behind the pro­tec­tion of his V. The Ref­eree asks each Cap­tain if he is ready and then shouts, “Play!” The game is now begun and con­tin­ues an hour and a half, with a rest of ten min­utes in the middle.

Above items were found in collections:

In addi­tion, you can see film high­lights of Prince­ton foot­ball games on our Reel Mudd blog.

Early films of Prince­ton foot­ball, 1903–1951.
Post-war Prince­ton foot­ball news­reels, 1947–1956.
Prince­ton Foot­ball, the Win­ning Way,” 1975.

For more infor­ma­tion about Prince­ton Foot­ball and the Uni­ver­sity Archives visit the find­ing aids page of the Mudd Man­u­script Library website.

Addi­tional read­ing Prince­ton Foot­ball: Images of Sports avail­able at Fire­stone and Mudd Libraries.