Chili on love and medicine

Chili writes:

Dec 8 1949 

My baby,

Received two letters from you on Tuesday past and now that I have read and re-read them avidly and thought over their contents. I’m ready to answer and give my opinion as to your future plans.

As regards staying on in Washington after July 1st as opposed to serving a residency here in NY or practicing I would ordinarily say you should do what you think best. But since you have already anticipated that answer I suppose I should offer something more concrete.

I have purposely refrained from expressing any opinion out and out although I no doubt have dropped several innuendos as re my feelings. I didn’t want to put any pressure on you. But since you have arrived at your own decisions I feel somewhat freer to express mine.

I honestly believe and have stated that the present arrangement is impossible. This is strictly emotional and possibly selfish since I know that what you’re doing down there is invaluable in so far as your future medical career is concerned. However I have always believed that a member of the “weaker sex?” in medicine must decide which is of prime importance marriage and everything connected with it or medicine and the practice thereof. Of course it really isn’t that hard and fast, but one or the other must take precedence, however, slight. The two are compatible, understand me and I am strongly convinced that you are capable of doing both and doing a good job too. Nevertheless one will of necessity infringe on the other at varying stages along the line.

I am of the opinion that our relationship to date makes marriage inevitable and as you say the sooner the better. I am also of the opinion that marriage and separation (physical that is) just doesn’t work, at least not right at the start. SO if we marry in June as planned I’m sure I couldn’t bear to be a “grass widower” in July. To make a long story short, come on home in July!!

If you can get a residency here in NY all the better since the only change then would be in place – your medical training would be uninterrupted; we would be married, together and happy.

If you can’t get a residency you could practice as you say or better still go about setting up a home having little brats, discharging your marital and motherly duties until you could go into practice without the inconvenience of pregnancy intervening.

In any event, come July, I should be in a position (financially) to support a wife and later a family in the style that I have always hoped for. So regardless of what you yourself did after you came home we could make a go of it – of that I’m sure. I only want to be sure that you yourself will always be happy.

And lastly in spite of everything I’ve said in this letter I do want to see you remain active in your chosen profession at all times in some shape or form. And what’s more, I want to see you in practice sooner or later since only then does one feel the true fruition of all the time spent in preparation.

If this has been confusing and in some instances apparently contradictory it’s because I can’t convey my thought in writing as well as I might verbally. So if you are confused we’ll wait until your next journey home. OK?

PS will send application for Harlem in next letter. 

C"

Of the nearly 200 letters that my Grandma and Papa wrote to each other during their courtship, this one is my favorite.

After months of fretting, phone calls, exchanging letters and infrequent visits, he finally shares with her everything he's been holding back about a decision that's been weighing on the both of them….

At this point in their relationship, Chili aka Dr Charles Hunt was a visiting physician at Harlem Hospital, preparing to hang his shingle and start his own family practice on Madison Avenue – not too far from his father's print shop on 135th St., Hunt's Printing Company - Printers To Particular People. 

Boot aka Dr. Pearl Foster was completing her residency at Freedman's Hospital in Washington D.C., somewhere in the middle of her rotations for the year in Male Medicine, XRay, and Female Medicine. 

So there they were, two young, intelligent first-generation black doctors laying the foundation for their careers and future, and yet distracted by this seemingly impossible circumstance that they were in. 

A life changing decision would need to be made and Boot has called the question. It's time for Chili’s response. 

This is the context behind his letter.

I have read and re-read his letter several times. I don't think Chili intended it, but in my humble opinion, he writes an incredibly beautiful love letter. 

He speaks to Boot in love languages. 

He offers her acts of service: "[I] will send [you an] application for Harlem in next letter"

He gives her words of affirmation: "marriage and everything connected with it or medicine and the practice thereof….I am strongly convinced that you are capable of doing both and doing a good job too.....in spite of everything I’ve said in this letter I do want to see you remain active in your chosen profession at all times in some shape or form. And what’s more, I want to see you in practice sooner or later since only then does one feel the true fruition of all the time spent in preparation….

It's a selfless love. "I didn’t want to put any pressure on you."

A nurturing love. “I only want to be sure that you yourself will always be happy.”

A supportive love. “I should be in a position (financially) to support a wife and later a family in the style that I have always hoped for. So regardless of what you yourself did after you came home we could make a go of it – of that I’m sure.”

A love without ego or pretense. 

I love my Papa's thoughtfulness. The vision he has for himself and for their future. The struggle he displays in communicating his honest, yet "contradictory" thoughts. The genuine respect that he has for Grandma as a woman and a professional. The space that he holds for her duality as a working woman and future mother. 

Chili would later send the application for Harlem. There was one spot left. 

Boot decided to move back to New York. She took the open spot at Harlem Hospital. 

His father printed the wedding invites. 

They got married on June 25, 1950. My mom was born June 19, 1951.

I am here to tell you that (for the most part), it all worked out. It wasn't happily ever after, but life was very good.