Found inside a thrift-store record, this wartime letter returned to the man who wrote it (representative image). Image Credits: ChatGPT
In January 1945, Bill Moore was a soldier serving in Europe with the Third Army. Moore was already 90 years old by then, living in an assisted living facility in Aurora, Colorado. Moore and Bernadean had been married for 63 years.
When you are separated for that reason, wondering whether you will ever see that person again, every chance to communicate felt wonderful, he said. Moore’s daughter, Melinda Gale, said this is the only love letter from that time that survived. “It probably gets worse,” he said. Talking to Lindsay Watts from 7NEWS, he said, “I was really surprised. Speaking of her, Moore said, “I loved her.
He had been on furlough when he met his future wife, Bernadean Gibson. Away from her, he sat down to write a letter which begins with the line, “My darling, lovable, alluring Bernadean. He tells her that he is the luckiest guy in the world and that even her name sounds lovely to him. He also writes that he had never been so homesick for anyone in his life. Years later, Moore reflected on the significance of such words. Then the letter turned up in the most surprising place. Ilene Ortiz bought an old record at a thrift store and found Moore’s letter inside it. She thought it was such a romantic letter that somebody should have it. Ortiz reached out to the Denver television station KMGH, or 7NEWS, asking for help in locating the owner. 7NEWS located the family, and the letter found its way to Gale. She explained that the letter meant a lot to her mother, who talked about it often. The author of the letter wasn’t far away after all. As he read his words again, he cried. However, he could also laugh through his tears at his choice of sweet words. He added that he had no idea that the letter would show up in such a way and actually reach him. His daughter called the letter a wonderful gift, saying it felt amazing to go back to the very beginning after so many years together.
