creative writing Archives -

March 1964, age 12, The first letter

Looking at old photos, my daughter asked me how I found my pen pal Elisabeth. As with most photos, the story followed. The ad in Weekly Reader said to send in a letter, and the International Friendship League would match me with a pen pal. My father told me that something like this would be a commitment; I’d need to write back. Was I ready to follow through? I promised I would write back and he agreed. I filled out the application, and he took it to the post office for me as he would do with many letters in the years to come.

April 7, 1964: The second letter

“IMPORTANT – There is no copy of this list of names and addresses. Do not lose or destroy this paper, because it cannot be replaced. International Friendship League” (I still have that letter). Her name is Elisabeth, and she lives in Vienna! I sat down at my desk to write to my first pen pal!

May 1964 The ritual of the tissue paper envelopes

So began the ritual. Getting mail was, in and of itself, exciting. Still, the light blue tissue paper envelopes were unlike any I’d ever seen. I’d take the letter to my bedroom and use a letter opener, carefully slicing it open to release one or two sheets of tissue paper stationary. Elisabeth told me about her classes at school, her travels with her grandmother and how her family lived part of the year in Vienna and part in a house in the country.

After I’d poured over the details several times, I’d take the letter up to dinner and read it to my family. We’d talk about all the languages she could speak. I should study more languages, my father advised. I’d pass around the postcards she’d sent showing the places she and her grandmother visited. Everyone had an idea of what I should write back.

I fancied myself a proper lady sitting at my desk with my Crane stationary (ivory with a grey border) and my peacock blue fountain pen, answering her questions about America, asking questions about Austria. When I was done, I folded the letter, sealed the envelope, and handed it to my father, who carried it to the post office to be sure it had the correct postage for its journey.

The joy of hand written letters

Letter after letter, Elisabeth and I talked about the things that all young girls do: boys, books, and decorating our rooms. I remember once she asked if we ever saw Indians in Texas. I told her how highways and shopping malls had replaced the Wild West. She read War and Peace. I read Nancy Drew. She had to study hard to keep her place in school. I studied just enough to keep from getting grounded. She went on to law school. I studied Interior Design. All the while, the letters came and went.

Spring 1976 The phone call

“Susan, Line 2” I was working at a well-known interior design studio in Denver when I was paged to take a phone call. “This is Susan.”

“This is Elisabeth! I’m working in New York and have plans to travel west this summer. I would like to visit you if that is alright.” Elisabeth, my Elisabeth is here and coming to visit! Everyone in the studio shared in my excitement. She had taken a job with the Austrian government and had an office in downtown New York. She’d even seen the Tall Ships pass from her apartment as part of the Bi-Centennial celebrations. But she was amused that we made such a fuss over being 200 years old – her house in Vienna was older than that!

Long time friends meet for the first time

She arrived in Denver late summer, and as arranged, we went camping and had dinners with my family and took pictures sitting side by side on the front lawn; all the things that old friends do when they get the chance to spend time together, even if it is the first time.

Elisabeth’s next assignment took her to Canada where she began studying Chinese. I moved to the suburbs, had children, and became involved in volunteer work. The letters came less often and took longer to answer. My marriage was falling apart, and there wasn’t much worth writing about. Then, she was transferred to China, and communication became more difficult. Later, I would learn that she had found the love of her life, and letters to him came first. We lost touch.

September 11, 2001

As I watched the news coverage of the Twin Towers falling, it occurred to me that Elisabeth might have been reassigned to America, and her office could very well have been in the towers. I had to find her. I called every Austrian Embassy I could. No one had her name on the roster but then, they only had a local list. The New York Embassy phone line was busy for weeks.

I switched tactics. I wrote to her old address asking if anyone knew where she or her family had gone. No one wrote back. I checked the list of names of those lost on September 11. Her name was not there, so that was a good sign, but in my heart, she was still lost, and I needed to find her.

January 2007- Still searching

The Internet was growing up and Google had become a powerful tool. Maybe Google would be able to find Elisabeth. The result of typing her name in the search box was six pages of documents in either German or Chinese. I didn’t study those languages. In fact, I never studied any language long enough to become proficient. And then I did something I never do. I went to the last page of the search results.

There, at the very bottom, was Elisabeth Philips Slavkoff, artist. Her middle name wasn’t Philips. She was a diplomat, not an artist. I clicked. And there she was! My Elisabeth! It had been over 20 years since I’d seen her, but I’d know her anywhere!

Where to begin

Her webpage was great, her artwork was beautiful, and her e-mail address was right there! Not knowing for sure why we lost touch, I hesitated. What if her life was more exciting and I no longer had a place? What if she had “outgrown” having a pen pal? Cautiously, I penned a polite e-mail telling her I was glad she hadn’t been in New York, glad that she’d found her passion in art and wished her well. This time, the letter went by the click of a mouse.

“You’ve got mail”

Her response was amazing! So glad I found her! How had I found her? We must not lose touch again! Please write back and fill in the years! But e-mail, please. She had outgrown paper letters.

Since then, we have filled in all the missing years. Jean-Pierre Philips is a wonderful man and well worth all the years she waited to marry. Theirs is truly a love story! She has two grown daughters who came with this marriage, and we are both adding grandchildren to our family tree.

Meeting again and for the first time

In October, she and Jean-Pierre traveled to California for an extended vacation. I flew from Colorado to see her again, packing the bundle of letters I’d kept over the years. My family, cousins this time, gathered for a dinner party to meet the pen pal they’d heard so much about. As we sat around the dinner table, I repeated my ritual of sharing her letters.

We poured over them, reminiscing and sharing so many memories. Many of her photos and keepsakes had been lost due to water damage at her home in Vienna, and I had some of the very photos she’d lost. I was glad I had kept them safe so she could have them back!

Having one forever friend

Fifty years have passed. Our communication methods have changed – now I look for Facebook posts, not in the mailbox! But I still sit at my desk (like a proper lady!) and answer her questions, asking her my own. We are still two young girls sharing the details of our lives. I am glad that we committed to write back.

Elisabeth Philips-Slavkoff is a colorist painter with an extensive background in art history and painting techniques. She experiments with the interaction between color, shape, and material. Sources of inspiration are the ever-changing light on the coast and her regular journeys in China. Following her recent study of traditional Chinese painting at the China Academy of Art in Hangzhou, she now explores the fusion of Western and Chinese techniques and composition. She lives and works mainly in her native Vienna and in Oostduinkerke at the North Sea. https://www.google.com/search?q=elisabeth+philips+slavkoff&rlz=1C1RFPM_enUS795US834&oq=elisabeth+philips+slavkoff&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOTIKCAEQABiiBBiJBTIKCAIQABiABBiiBDIHCAMQABjvBTIKCAQQABiABBiiBNIBCTIwNTU4ajBqN6gCCLACAfEFGijHw_JQueY&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8