I got another one, from my mother this time. My mother is the baby of her family; her oldest sister was fifteen years older than her. At the time of the War, she was already married with children. Mother was 14, and was taking the train from Mt. Sterling to Ashland, to spend a few weeks with her sister, help her out with the baby and chores and such, because my aunt's husband was gone to war.
So Mom is this big, tall, gangling 14 year old girl, traveling alone on the train, and this soldier sits down beside her. He's young, too, not more than 19, and he's on his way back to base after a thirty day leave to see his family. They talked for a while, and he said, "I'm shipping out as soon as I get back to base. I have no girlfriend, nobody to write to me. Will you write to me?"
Mom agreed, got his address, and for the next two years, the two of them corresponded. There was nothing romantic about it, they were just friends and pen pals. But after the war, they lost track of one another, and she never heard from him again.
About three years ago, I was in church with Mother, and, during The Peace, she took my arm and led me to the back of the church, where an old couple were sitting. The man stood up and smiled at me. And Mom said, "Junie, this is Prentiss Rhymer. He was the boy on the train that day."
After all those years, he had just turned up in our church. He had kin in the area, and had retired here to be close to his family.