Episodes
June 24, 1971: “I Just Can’t Remember What Life Was Like When We Didn…
Send us a text After more than two weeks apart without a successful phone call, Dick and Sarah finally get to speak — even if the connection isn’t great. In this letter, written the same day from Da Nang, Dick reflects on how deeply their love has changed his life, how much he cherishes her voice, …
June 24, 1971: “Can You Believe That You and I Are a State of Mind?”
Send us a text In this deeply personal and poetic letter, Sarah writes to Dick from San Antonio after another brutally hot day in the operating room. She shares a poem about ESP and emotional connection — wondering aloud if their bond is so strong it transcends time, space, and reason. She also ope…
June 23, 1971: “Your Voice After Two Weeks”
Send us a text It’s June 23, 1971 — and after more than two weeks of missed connections and shutdown phone lines, the call finally goes through. Sarah hears Dick’s voice, and everything rushes in at once: the relief, the longing, the ache of being apart for so long. She writes this letter just afte…
June 22, 1971 – “You Better Be Saving a Whole Bundle of Kisses” (S.D.…
Send us a text On June 22, 1971, Dick Allgood hadn’t received any letters in three days—and it left him wondering if Sarah had forgotten to write. Of course, she hadn’t. But it speaks to how closely they watched the mailbag, how much those letters meant, and how deeply they missed each other. This …
June 21, 1971: The Broken Tape
Send us a text In this letter from June 21, 1971, Sarah writes to Dick after a crushing disappointment: the tape he sent her snapped halfway through playback. She had waited eagerly to hear his voice—only to cry for over an hour when it broke. The rain outside mirrors the ache inside as she describ…
June 21, 1971: A Quiet Letter From My Huby
Send us a text This letter might not look like much on the surface — it’s short, it’s simple, and nothing dramatic is happening. But that’s what makes it hit me. My dad wrote this to my mom, Sarah, on a slow Monday in Vietnam. He’d been on alert all day, but nothing happened. He couldn’t get throug…
June 20, 1971: His First Father’s Day — and a Love That Was Real
Send us a text It’s Father’s Day, June 20, 1971. And for the first time in writing, Sarah tells Dick what they’d both been hoping: he’s going to be a father. She’s writing from Texas. He’s flying rescue missions in Vietnam. They are thousands of miles apart — but what’s between them is something ra…
June 20, 1971: Midday in Vietnam — A Note to My Wife, Just Because
Send us a text It’s Sunday, June 20, 1971 — Father’s Day — and Captain Dick Allgood hasn’t been able to reach his wife Sarah on the phone for over two weeks. So around noon, while on alert in Vietnam, he picks up a pen and does the next best thing: he writes. This isn’t a long emotional letter — ju…
June 20, 1971: A Love Most People Never Find
Send us a text It’s past midnight in Vietnam, and Captain Dick Allgood has just stayed up trying to reach his wife Sarah by phone — again. They haven’t spoken in more than two weeks. But instead of going to sleep, he writes. Because he misses her. Because he wants her to know that she’s his home. T…
June 19, 1971: Roast Beef, Fireworks, and Raw Desire in Vietnam
Send us a text This is the 30th letter my parents exchanged since my dad left for Vietnam 54 days ago — and it still manages to surprise me. It’s June 19, 1971. My dad, Captain Dick Allgood, is in Vietnam. But instead of writing about danger or despair, he’s writing about fireworks, roast beef sand…
June 19, 1971: Coconut Cravings, Bra Sizes & Big Love
Send us a text It’s June 19th, 1971, and Sarah is in full pregnancy mode — craving coconut cream custard, upgrading her bra size (34DD, thank you very much), and missing Dick so badly it hurts. In this funny, raw, and tender letter, she shares everything from maternity fashion goals to her deep des…
June 18, 1971: The Harder Road, for Love
Send us a text In this letter from June 18, 1971, my dad, Dick, has just received a bundle of mail from my mom — three letters, a card, and a poem book — and he reads and rereads every word. It’s been days since he heard from her, and nearly two weeks since they’ve been able to talk on the phone — …
June 18, 1971: Love, on Toasted Bread
Send us a text In this letter from June 18, 1971, my mom, Sarah, is having a quiet day in San Antonio. She’s pregnant, seepy, and missing my dad in all the little ways — especially his cooking. She tries to recreate one of his signature breakfast sandwiches — bacon, eggs, cheese, lettuce, tomato — …
June 17, 1971: Bureaucracy, Cookies, and a Wittle Chickadee
Send us a text In this letter from June 17, 1971, my mom — Sarah Allgood — writes from San Antonio during a whirlwind of paperwork, pregnancy fatigue, and a surprise that didn’t go quite as planned. She’s working full time as a military nurse at Lackland AFB, pregnant with me, and trying to sort ou…
June 17, 1971 (Part Two): “You Bet Your Sweet ‘Quiff’ You Do”
Send us a text This is the second letter my dad, Captain Dick Allgood, wrote on June 17, 1971 — a quiet but incredibly tender note sent from Vietnam to my mom, Sarah, who was back at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, pregnant with me. He opens with a simple apology: he missed the morning mail…
June 17, 1971: “I’ve Never Had a Questionable Day Since I Married You”
Send us a text In this letter from June 17, 1971, my dad — Captain Dick Allgood — writes to my mom, Sarah, from Vietnam. She’s at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, pregnant with me. He’s halfway around the world, but he’s still thinking about everything — whether her special delivery letter g…
June 16, 1971: 99 and 44/100% of My Thoughts
Send us a text In this deeply personal letter from June 16, 1971, Captain Dick Allgood writes to Sarah from Vietnam on a sweltering, emotionally heavy day. He’s just watched Patton again, he’s feeling the weight of distance, and the loneliness is creeping in — but even in that space, his devotion t…
June 15, 1971: Back Home, Back to the Letters
Send us a text After a few weeks in Florida, I’m back home in Montana — back to the letters, and back to the long road ahead. This is the June 15, 1971 letter from my mom, Sarah, to my dad, Dick, written during the height of their separation in the Vietnam War. It’s intimate, emotional, funny, raw,…
June 15, 1971: The Real Test of Love
Send us a text In this heartfelt letter from June 15, 1971, Captain Dick Allgood writes to his wife, Sarah, from Vietnam on a rare day off. After watching a movie about honesty in relationships, he finds himself feeling homesick and deeply reflective. He shares what it means to miss her — not just …
June 14, 1971: Most People Never Find This Kind of Love—Our Friendshi…
Send us a text It’s Father’s Day morning, 2025, and I’m sitting quietly in Miami at my best friend Kelly’s house while the rest of the house sleeps. I’m using this early moment to catch up on one of the two letters my parents wrote on June 14, 1971. I fell behind yesterday—life happens—but I’m back…
June 14, 1971: For My Baby, My Sheets, and No One Else
Send us a text In this Father’s Day episode, I read a letter my dad, Captain Dick Allgood, wrote to my mom, Captain Sarah Allgood, on June 14, 1971, while on alert in Vietnam. The day before, he was dreaming of sunshine. Today, he’s dreaming of her — her body, her scent, her softness — and the baby…
13 June 1971 — A Tape Full of Love (Recorded After Spreading My Mothe…
Send us a text Today’s letter comes to you from Miami, recorded after an especially emotional and meaningful morning. At sunrise, we took a boat across Biscayne Bay to Boca Chita Key, near Elliott Key, where I was able to spread my mother’s ashes in the waters and place she so dearly loved. This sp…
June 12, 1971 — We Make Love in So Many Ways
Send us a text In today’s letter, Dick writes to Sarah during a long, rainy day on alert in Vietnam. His words are full of longing, tenderness, and a deep sense of connection — reminding her, and all of us, that their love was about far more than physical closeness. From the sweet humor of their pr…
June 12, 1971 — When You Write Horny, I Get Horny
Send us a text In today’s letter, Sarah writes a late-night note to Dick after yet another lonely evening out with friends. Her longing for him grows stronger by the day — and tonight, she doesn’t hold back. This intimate letter captures the rawness of their separation: from her growing frustration…