Ed. note: This is the last letter my grandfather wrote home while in the Navy. He and other people continued their correspondence with his family, and those that were saved will continue on this blog.
Brooklyn, New York
August 17, 1919
Dear Mother,
Am on liberty, and John and I have just gotten back from dinner with some friends of his by the name of Rasmussen, who live here in Brooklyn. We cam over to New York this morning about 10 o'clock and had chow, then came over here and go out to the house about 3 this afternoon. We went to a show and are now in the Sailors' Club about to turn in for the night. Our liberty is up tomorrow morning at 9 o'clock, so we will get to sleep in til seven.
The Blakeley stays here until the 25th, and then joins the squadron at Newport for fall maneuvers. I hope and think I'll get out -- rather than be transferred off the ship to a receiving ship for discharge before she sails again. Everything is so doggone uncertain, however, that I am up in the air and don't know when I'll get off.
The weather is cool here because it is misty and disagreeable since we landed. Most of the subways and el's are on strike, so that makes it pretty hard to get around very quickly.
We got all our back mail yesterday, and I got about twenty letters, which made me feel pretty good.
Am not going to write a long letter until I know something definite. Besides I am tired and sleepy, so will turn in.
Love,
Heywood
(Postmarked Brooklyn, New York, August 18, 1919)
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