Dear Mr. Misner

January 17, 1979

Dear Mr. Misner,

I am writing to you after I heard the news of your sentencing. Reportings about you have reached Burlington, Texas all the way from Orlando. I have been following your trial on the radio and in the newspapers, and I believe I know more about you than about the President in the White House.

The thought of you sitting alone in prison and awaiting your sentence pressed me to write. I hope you have a pleasant day.

Cordially,

Linda Longstreet

February 9, 1979

Dear Miss Longstreet,

Your letter was a very welcome surprise. My time here has been drab and dreary, but your warmth and kindness shine through every word. Did you know that your name means beautiful in Spanish? There is also a German word, lind, that means tender. You are the very embodiment of your name.

When you have the time and the inclination, I ask that you write back, and please - call me Kenneth.

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

February 23, 1979

Dear Kenneth,

Your last letter was mighty kind. I didn’t know that about my name. You know so many interesting things, and I was so impressed that you were your own lawyer during the trial. I think that many people would have been too afraid or too intimidated by the judge and the prosecution, but it didn’t stop you. I believe you did a fine job, too.

I want to go to college, but someone has to take care of Momma. She’s sick now, but I think that once she’s better, I can go. I have thought about becoming a court stenographer, which would be so exciting. I could also be a nurse, since I’ll have experience already with taking care of Momma.

Best Regards,

Linda Longstreet

March 14, 1979

Dear Linda,

I was delighted to receive your letter. I believe you’d make a wonderful court stenographer, nurse, teacher, or anything else you dream of. Your compassion and cleverness is evidenced by the very words you write. If you were a court stenographer, then we could have crossed paths during my trial. If you were a nurse, we still could have met - I’m afraid I’m rather clumsy!

Unfortunately, our correspondence may come to a close, as I am running low on funds and have no way to purchase more stamps from the commissary. If you have any pennies to spare - please wire them to my name at the Florida State Penitentiary. The Western Union should be able to help you.

I hope that I hear from you again, Linda.

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

March 28, 1978

Dear Kenneth,

Did you get my wire? I rushed to Western Union the moment I got your letter. I’d be so blue if we couldn’t write anymore. I check the mailbox every day hoping that there will be something from you.

Momma and I have been living off of her checks for a while now, but now she’s saying that I need to get a job to support her. I asked who would be taking care of her if I was at work, but I guess I didn’t realize that I could still do that when I wasn’t working. Momma says I don’t always think too straight. I should be more grateful, too, that she gave me a home with hot meals and clean clothes. Momma says I forget that too much.

I suppose, if Momma is feeling well enough for me to go to work, then she’ll feel even better and I can go to college!

I’ve enclosed a picture of myself - it’s my Senior portrait, so it’s a few years old, but I don’t think that I’ve changed too much. I have pictures of you that I’ve clipped from the newspaper, so I think it’s only fair that I send you a picture of me.

Best Regards,

Linda Longstreet

April 15, 1978

Dear Linda,

I was so pleased to hear that your Mother is feeling better. It is certainly a welcome development. There is no shame in working for a few years before school - I myself left college to work and volunteer. When I was ready to come back, I graduated in just a few years and with honors. Looking back, I can’t dream of going straight into college after high school, and studying for four unbroken years. Perhaps in a few years, you will also agree with me.

It’s hard to believe that the photograph you’ve sent is one of a schoolgirl. You already radiate sophistication and maturity. There is an air about you that proves you have the innate capacity for great things. I will admit that I guessed you were a brunette, but I must say that your eyes are kinder than I could have imagined.

Thank you for your wire. This will help us exchange letters for a little while longer.

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

May 2, 1978

Dear Kenneth,

I blushed so much when I read your letter, I really did. No one has ever said those things about me or made me feel so special.

I will try to remember your words the next time that I’m at work. I got a job at the roller rink. It seemed so fun at first, with the colorful lights and the music that Momma won’t let me listen to at home. But yesterday, a few of the local girls came to skate, and I could hear them giggling at me and pointing at me. But what could I do? I had to stay behind the counter and keep renting skates. I tried to pretend like I didn’t notice them. I practiced that a lot when I was in school.

What made me feel just as bad, I think, was watching them skate round and round. They were skating with their friends and boyfriends, singing along to the music. Everything seemed so easy for them. It just felt like they were on a different planet than me. I hate that I don’t know how to get to that planet.

The newspaper had an article about you recently. I clipped it out and saved it. They used a picture of you that I’ve never seen before, but they also had a picture of one of the girls. I didn’t want to keep her picture, but it seemed disrespectful to throw it out, given the circumstances. I burned it instead. I think that was a fair compromise.

Best Regards,

Linda

May 18, 1979

Dear Linda,

Photography has had many taboos associated with it. There are cultures that believe taking one’s picture is akin to stealing their soul. The Pennsylvania Amish seek to live without pride, and view pictures of themselves as violating that tenet. I believe you understand this innately, and acted in the best way you could.

I am afraid that I have bad news - as I prepare my case for appeal, I have been utilizing the prison library. However, I am running out of money for paper and photocopies. Please, if you have anything to spare, it would make all the difference in my defense.

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

June 2, 1979

Dear Kenneth,

I sent money as soon as I could, and I do hope you got it in time. I would never forgive myself if I had the chance to really help you and failed.

Momma said that working at the roller rink isn’t enough, and I had to find another job. Now that the weather is hot, I thought working at the ice cream parlor would be nice. We used to go sometimes when Poppa was around, but haven’t since he passed.

I thought it would make sense to work at the ice cream parlor during the day and at the roller rink at night. I guess I didn’t think that I’d get so sore from scooping ice cream that I’d barely be able to lift a pair of skates. On the nights that I close the roller rink, I’m dead tired the next day at the parlor.

No matter what time I leave or come back home, Momma is always in front of the TV in her bathrobe and smoking her Virginia Slims. The doctors told her to stop, especially since she complains about her heart, but Momma never listens to them. I think she’s doing better than she was last fall, but I don’t know if she’s still improving. I’m still taking care of her when I’m not at work.

These past few weeks, I’ve felt like one of those balloons that children get at carnivals and fairs. I remember being very little and holding onto a balloon like that by the string. When I let the string slip through my fingers a bit, the balloon would inch up higher and higher. It wanted to soar into the sky, float away from me and from everyone else.

I wish I could float away from here. I imagine myself curling up into a ball, closing my eyes, and drifting up into the air like we all drift off to sleep. I’m not even sure where I’d want to go. I don’t think I care, as long as it isn’t here.

When I was little, I remember feeling so bad for the balloon that I let it go. I wanted to set it free. Momma got so cross with me for wasting her money that she slapped my arm and left a red welt.

I hope your appeal case is going well. How do you prepare for something like that? It seems so complicated that I don’t know where I would even begin. I’d be so overwhelmed, but you know exactly what to do. I must admit that I am in awe of you.

Yours Truly,

Lindy

June 18, 1979

Dear Lindy,

I have received your wire, but I am afraid it’s too little - much too little. If you are serious about helping me, as your letters claim, then I will need you to wire substantially more. Your past letter described the two jobs that you work. I implore you to consider my plight before spending your earnings on ice cream and roller skates.

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

July 3, 1979

Dear Kenneth,

I am so sorry and so ashamed that my wire wasn’t enough. Your last letter broke my heart, and I ran out to wire you everything I had saved up. I want to help you, I truly do. I work at an ice cream parlor and at a roller rink, but I am not spending my money on those things. I’ve been saving a portion for tuition and textbooks, but that’s a dream for someday, and you need it more than I do right now.

I’ve only been at the ice cream parlor for a month, but I think I am already getting stronger. My boss says that I should try scooping ice cream with my left hand. Otherwise, my right arm is going to be strong and my left arm will be weak. He says that if I do more things with my left hand, I could become ambidextrous. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I hadn’t. It means you can do things, like write or scoop ice cream, with your right hand as good as you can with your left hand.

It’s getting awfully hot here in Texas. We don’t have air conditioning because Momma says she didn’t grow up with one, and I don’t have to either. She says that it would spoil me worse than I already am. We have one fan, the kind that swivels back and forth, that she puts in front of her when she’s watching TV. She takes it into her bedroom at night, too. She says that I don’t need it since I’m working in air conditioned places all day while she’s stuck at home. I guess she needs the fan more than me since she’s still not feeling better, but when I come home after working at the ice cream parlor and the roller rink on the same day and see her sitting in front of the TV, I get this dark feeling in my stomach. Maybe that’s also why I haven’t slept too good the past few days. Sometimes, I get so dizzy from the tiredness and the heat.

I hope you’re staying cool, and I hope your appeal case is going well.

Yours Truly,

Lindy

July 20, 1979

Dearest Lindy,

I apologize fervidly if I distressed you. I merely wished to impart the urgency of the situation. When a man is facing the possibility of capital punishment, he will move Heaven and Earth to see that it doesn’t come to pass. You, Lindy, are my greatest asset and my greatest ally. None of this would have been possible without you.

I have heard of ambidexterity - from the Latin ambi, meaning both, and dexter, meaning favorable. When you are ambidextrous, both hands are favorable. Training to be ambidextrous is good for the brain, too - and my dear Lindy, your mind is too precious not to develop further.

Your time at the ice cream parlor is not wasted. As you build your strength and receive your payment, remember me as I build my case and await your help.

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

August 5, 1979

Dear Kenneth,

I am so sorry I haven’t wired more money. Momma caught me trying to send you some. She took it all and hollered at me all night, saying how she ought to kick me out for being such an ungrateful brat.

Usually, I can ignore her yelling. I’ve gotten pretty good at that. But that night, she stormed into my room and emptied out all my drawers onto the ground until she found your letters and the articles about you that I’ve saved.

Momma started screaming that I was so stupid, I was never going to go to college. It was my turn to stay and take care of her, and that’s how I was going to repay her for years of raising me. She said it was the only thing I would be good for, because I was never going to get married. No man would ever take me for a wife, not even one who was locked up across the country. 

I thought I was going to throw up. All my clothes were on the ground. She had torn up the articles and crumpled your letters. Maybe it was how hot and stuffy the house had gotten, or maybe it was the things that she was saying, but it all got under my skin, it truly did. There were weights in my stomach, pinning me onto the floor. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t remember that there was a whole other world outside my house. It felt like I was stuck in that house forever, and as long as I lived, I would only know Momma’s screaming and my bedroom wrecked and all my mementos ruined.

The heat and the humidity and Momma’s awful, awful words felt like they were pressing down on my throat and choking me. I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted everything to stop.

Kenneth, you’re my dearest friend. I have a question, and I need an honest answer. Did you hurt all those girls? Because when I started writing to you, I really believed that you didn’t do any of it. Now, I wonder…if you had, maybe that wouldn’t make you such a monster. Maybe there’s some situations where it doesn’t make you a terrible person.

Yours Truly,

Lindy

August 7, 1979

Dear Kenneth,

Momma’s gone. She had a heart attack in her sleep. At least, that’s what the doctor reckons. She did always complain about her heart, and the doctor says that the heat must have been too much for her.

I feel like a vinyl record right before someone lowers the arm. Everything is spinning and there’s no sound. I suppose there’s many things I have to do. I suppose I should plan a funeral, but I don’t know who would come. Momma’s only family was me, and she didn’t talk to anyone else. She wasn’t too friendly.

I suppose I can think about going to school now, but I wouldn’t know where to begin. Maybe I need a few days for this all to feel more real. Maybe then I can start to think about what comes next.

I feel like I owe you an explanation. In my last letter, I asked you if you hurt those girls. I didn’t ask it to judge you. I was just wondering, if you had done it, then I wanted to know what it felt like. Was it like letting go of a balloon?

Yours Truly,

Lindy

August 20, 1979

Dear Lindy,

I am sorry to hear about your Mother. 

I have to admit that I am surprised at your question. I have always maintained and advocated for my innocence. Otherwise, all the work for my appeal - all the work you’ve helped me with - would be for nothing. Do you think that I am working for nothing?

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

August 21, 1979

Dear Sandy,

Receiving your letter was a delightful surprise. While my time here has been tedious and monotonous, your short note has been a beacon of light. Your wit and charm shine through every word. Did you know that your name, Sandy, can be traced to that of Alexander the Great? A great ruler and phenomenal military leader, Alexander the Great was also a lover of poetry, tutored by Aristotle, and a patron of the arts. I can see how you yourself possess his strength of character and acuity of mind.

If you feel so inclined, I ask that you write back, and please - call me Kenneth.

Sincerely Yours,

Kenneth Misner

September 6, 1979

Kenneth…Who is Sandy?

-Lindy