[Image Text] “The Gutter Letter”Â
This letter was found by a Gay friend among a stack of papers and boxes lying outside a Greenwich Village apartment house. Attracted by the file folders, he did not realize what they contained until he had lugged the many boxes home. What he found were love letters, general correspondence, leases, copies of wills, and photographs portraying the Lesbian relationships of Eleanor Coit, a labor activist and educator. She had just died and these letters had been thrown out as trash. The discovery became symbolic to us and we refer to the following letter as the gutter letter, emphasizing the reality that the documents testifying to our love are too often considered garbage, and are destroyed by dismissing or frightened familes.
This is a “very quiet” letter, Eleanor dear, and you won’t read it when you are dashing off somewhere in a hurry, will you– please.
I’m writing by the light of the two tall candles on my desk, with the flaming chrysanthemums you arranged before me. It’s such a lovely soft glow and I’m glad because this is a “candle-light” letter. I wish you could know what a wonderful person you are, Eleanor darling and what joy your letter written last night gave me. Not the part about me– that is pitifully wrong and only a standard for me to measure up to– but you make it all so wonderful and are clear about it. You know I feel terrible much the way you do abut it all, but I never could say so, even in incoherent fashion, and so many times back back of my nobler resolves I am just plain selfish about wanting you to “look at and talk to” especially in the future when I know you won’t be there. And that’s why you are so wonderful darling, because now I never can be but I shall have to strive oh so ardently to ever measure up and be worthy at all of you. And I’m not at all afraid, dear, I know our love will help– oh so much– and not hinder, dear, it never does that, not even in my weakest moments.Â
“High thoughts and noble in all lands
help me: my soul is fed by such.
But ah, the touch of lips and hands–
Warm, vital, close, life’s symbol dear–
These need I most, and now, and here.”
It is true isn’t it, but the glorious part of it is there can be both…
The candles are burning low, dear heart, and the world is very still and beautiful outside. And I am so, oh so happy that I know you and love you. And may God bless you through all time.Â
from the Lesbian Herstory Archive 1981 Newsletter
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