Episodes
August 9, 1971: Halfway to Holding You
Send us a text In Miami, my mom writes to my dad in Vietnam about their baby — already kicking, already loved — as she reaches 18 weeks of pregnancy. She reflects on their growing family, the joy of feeling life inside her, and the deep love she has for both her husband and the child they’re waitin…
August 9, 1971: Counting the Days to Hawaii and Forever
Send us a text From Vietnam, my dad writes to my mom in Miami about their upcoming R&R in Hawaii, their plans for saving money, and the happiness he feels looking back on their first year of marriage. In a short follow-up note, he sends her the orders she’ll need for their trip — with a promise…
August 8, 1971: I Love You, Sarah Jane
Send us a text They’re only one month away from seeing each other again — for the first time since April. And for the first time, my dad will see my mom pregnant. Today’s letter is pure tenderness. He says it outright: “I never knew that love could be so beautiful.” It’s one of many moments where y…
August 8, 1971: You’re My Steak, I’m Your Potato
Send us a text Sarah writes from Biscayne Bay, sun-kissed and missing her man. She’s four months pregnant, floating through the Miami breeze, and dreaming of Dick. In this letter, she says it all — with passion, laughter, and...
August 7, 1971: Toast, Sun, and a Breeze off Biscayne Bay
Send us a text My mom writes from Miami on a warm August Saturday, resting, laughing, and soaking up the sun. She’s staying right on Biscayne Bay — a place I know well — and in this letter, we see how alive and supported she was during her pregnancy. She spends the day poolside with friends, goes t…
August 7, 1971: Fried Fish, Music Tapes, and Counting Down to the 22nd
Send us a text My dad writes from Vietnam after a long 24-hour alert shift. Nothing major happens, but he still manages to turn the day into something sweet. He eats fried fish and onion rings, works on music tapes for my mom, and mentions a call he’s hoping to make on August 22 — their anniversary…
August 6, 1971: Dolphins Tickets, Biscayne Bay, and the Birth of a Dr…
Send us a text Sarah writes from Miami in the middle of what feels like a real vacation — sun, friends, card games, and even tickets to see the Dolphins play. But tucked inside this seemingly lighthearted letter is something big: a glimpse of where it all began with Bill Cobbs. A view of Biscayne B…
August 5, 1971: Pie’s Champagne Confession
Send us a text It’s Dick’s day off in Vietnam, and Sarah’s living it up in Miami. What starts as a tender note turns hilarious — fast. There’s a little weather talk, some thoughts on marijuana, and then… Pie’s now-legendary line about drinking champagne in places champagne doesn’t usually go. My da…
August 5, 1971: Hot Dogs, Housing Loans, and a 10½ Inch Legacy
Send us a text My mom writes from Miami on August 5, 1971. She’s craving a hotdog, dodging a sailing invite while 4½ months pregnant, and accidentally capturing the origin story of my dad’s future career — and our family’s bar. This letter is where I first learn that Dick would go on to work for Bi…
August 4, 1971: Even in a Crowd, I’m Lonely Without You
Send us a text My mom writes from Miami — recounting Brandy Alexanders, receipts, outfits, poolside conversations, and dinner with old friends. But beneath the swirl of it all, she’s aching for my dad. This letter reminds me how much she could love being around people… and still feel completely alo…
August 4, 1971: Hello Pretty Wife of Mine
Send us a text My dad writes from Vietnam on a slow alert day, just counting down the days until he can hold my mom again — 36 to go. He talks about getting some sun, watching baseball, grooving to her letter, and imagining their hotel room in Hawaii. He also checks in on “the wittle one,” jokes ab…
August 3, 1971: RED Letter News
Send us a text Sarah writes from Miami with news that changes everything: for the first time, she feels the baby move. It’s a quiet, private milestone — but she captures it with joy, humor, and wonder. She’s feeling good, proud of her pregnant body, and more connected than ever to the life growing …
August 3, 1971: You, Me, and a Waterbed
Send us a text My dad writes from Vietnam after getting one of my mom’s letters in Miami. He jokes about her sleeping on a waterbed, talks through his slow day at the hooch, and shares a tender moment imagining the baby she’s carrying — me. What we’re really seeing in these letters is a pregnancy j…
August 2, 1971: My Wittle Chickie and the Dream of Miami
Send us a text In this letter from August 2, 1971, Sarah writes to Dick from Miami — not just soaking up the sun but dreaming of the life they’ll build together in this very place. She passes along a touching letter from her grandmother Pearl and gently asks Dick to write her — just one page. It’s …
August 2, 1971: A Room at the Hilton and the Sound of Tina Turner
Send us a text Dick writes not one but two letters to Sarah on August 2, 1971 — one full of music, excitement, and planning for their R&R in Hawaii, and the other a quiet love note before bed. He books them a room at the Hilton in Waikiki by mail, tapes Jackson 5, Tina Turner, and Diana Ross on…
August 1, 1971: Sunshine, G&Ts, and a Quarter in the Bank
Send us a text Sarah’s in Miami, and this Sunday letter to Dick is full of rhythm and joy. She’s playing cards, reconnecting with old friends, eating steak, and slowly feeling more like herself again. The mood is lighter, the pace is easy, and there’s even a little teasing at the end — a promise of…
August 1, 1971: Punch, Pictures, and a Promise in Hawaii
Send us a text It’s Sunday in Vietnam, and Dick is recovering from last night’s party — and the punch he made that got the better of him. He’s back on alert duty, writing to Sarah about her decision to go to Miami, how his smoking’s going, and how much he’s looking forward to seeing her in Hawaii. …
Three Months In: A True Story in Letters
Send us a text After three months and over 150 episodes, The Allgoods has become more than just a podcast — it’s a window into a year-long letter exchange between a young couple separated by the Vietnam War. Through their real-time letters, we follow not only a love story, but a vivid record of lif…
July 31, 1971: Ray Charles at the Coconut Grove Playhouse
Send us a text In today’s letter, Sarah wakes up slow, naps in the beanbag chair, and ends the night with something unforgettable: a live Ray Charles concert at the Coconut Grove Playhouse. She’s in Miami, feeling surprisingly close to her husband. And though he’s halfway around the world, she brin…
July 31, 1971: Ribs, Ray Charles, and the Life We Choose
Send us a text It’s Saturday night, July 31, 1971 — and on opposite sides of the world, Sarah and Dick are each having the kind of night they’ll never forget. She’s in Miami, swaying to the sound of Ray Charles at the Coconut Grove Playhouse. He’s in Vietnam, serving ribs, chicken, and “Allgood Pun…
July 30, 1971: Palm Trees, Pool Days, and the “Lucky Guy”
Send us a text Sarah’s in Miami, swimming laps and soaking up the sun — but the real heat in this letter comes from the parties, the old friends, and her love for one “lucky guy” back in Vietnam. She’s four months pregnant, feeling strong, and starting to enjoy the countdown to September. There’s a…
July 30, 1971: A Suite in Hawaii, Eggs Benedict, and You
Send us a text Dick’s letter today reads like a dream. He imagines their upcoming reunion in Hawaii in vivid detail — a suite overlooking the ocean, champagne in bed, and eggs Benedict served with love. He’s counting the days, longing for the wife and life he’s aching to return to. And while he say…
July 29, 1971: A Ticket to Paradise and the Arms of My Wife
Send us a text Dick has big news — their long-awaited R&R is officially on the calendar. In today’s letter, he confirms the date, imagines the moment they’ll reunite, and signs off with all the tenderness of a man who’s count...
July 29, 1971: Ground Rules, Frick & Frack, and One Hell of a Blowjob
Send us a text It’s July 29, 1971. My mom is four months pregnant and visiting her friends Judy and Dick in Miami. It’s hot, breezy, and full of freedom — a chance to rest and reset. She’s sleeping late on a waterbed, drinking G&Ts, and laying down some very clear house rules. But even in the s…