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…
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…
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…
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…
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…
Send us a text In this letter, Dick Allgood gives us a Vietnam story we rarely hear — one built on love, small human moments, and unwavering devotion. On his day off, he borrows a truck and takes a couple of sergeants to Long Binh Army Post — not to escape the war, but to scrounge some food to make…
Send us a text In this June 11, 1971 letter, Sarah writes to her husband, Dick — a rescue pilot flying missions in Vietnam — from San Antonio, where she is navigating life, work, and pregnancy while they are apart. She shares a slice of daily life: taking a much-needed day off, trying to beat the T…
Send us a text June 10, 1971. My father was flying with the HH-43 Pedro rescue team in Vietnam. My mother was an Air Force nurse stationed in Texas—eight weeks pregnant with me and counting the days until they could be together again. In this letter, she writes after an exhausting day in the O.R., …
Send us a text In this June 10, 1971 letter from Vietnam, my dad—then flying rescue missions with the U.S. Air Force Pedro team—writes to my mom about R&R plans, tracks her pregnancy dates, and talks about how he’s passing the long hours on alert by reading pocket novels. My dad loved to read a…
Send us a text In this playful, passionate letter from June 9, 1971, my mom writes to my dad with longing and complete honesty. She reassures him about her faithfulness, jokes about how things will be when they are finally together again — when she’ll be visibly pregnant with me — and reflects on h…
Send us a text “I Couldn’t Call — My Eyes Clouded with Tears” — June 8, 1971 Description: This letter from June 8, 1971, left me in tears. My dad, writing from Vietnam, finally tells my mom why he never called her from the airport before he deployed. He says it took him four tries just to address a…
Send us a text In this short but deeply emotional letter from June 8, 1971, my mom writes to my dad after recording her very first tape to send him in Vietnam. She’d waited for her tape recorder to arrive — and now that it has, she spends more than an hour trying to get her first message just right…
Send us a text In this letter from June 9, 1971, my dad writes one of the most vulnerable and pivotal letters of his deployment. He’s just been selected for a Regular commission — a path that would keep him in the Air Force for several more years, requiring more flying, more moves, and more time ap…
Send us a text n this letter from June 7, 1971, my dad — writing from Vietnam — pours out his heart to my mom. He talks about everyday things: bank accounts, sending money home, chatting with fellow airmen. But what really comes through is how much he loved her — and how excited he was about the ba…
Send us a text It’s June 7, 1971. Today my mom, Sarah Allgood, writes with a light and playful tone, even while missing my dad deeply. She shares her day, a bit of gossip, her efforts to stay healthy for her pregnancy with me, and the simple ways she and her friends found comfort during these long …
Send us a text In this heartfelt letter from June 6, 1971, Dick writes to Sarah after receiving a welcome surprise: three letters from her in one day. He shares the story behind the Smoky Topaz ring he sent from Bangkok, offers practical advice on navigating military red tape, and vents his frustra…
Send us a text In today’s letter, Dick writes from Vietnam with a blend of laughter and perspective. He’s received a handmade “dong sock” from Sarah — a hilarious and intimate gift that sets the tone — but as he sits in the sun and reflects, he shares something deeper. He explains why, despite the …
Send us a text In today’s letter, Sarah writes from the apartment she once shared with Dick—the same one where their love story unfolded before Vietnam. Now pregnant and alone, she spends her day reading and rereading his letters, talking to his photo, and remembering the little things that still m…
Send us a text In this letter from June 4, 1971, Dick shares quiet reflections from a rare day off in Vietnam—until a fire near the post office nearly sends his heart racing. For a moment, he fears that Sarah’s letters might have gone up in smoke. Luckily, only the club’s liquor stash is lost, prom…
Send us a text In this June 3rd letter from Vietnam, Dick Allgood writes to his pregnant wife Sarah during a long alert shift. He sends Polaroid snapshots, cracks jokes about his young fellow airmen, and yearns for home with a mix of tenderness and teasing humor. Beneath the banter, you can hear hi…
Send us a text On June 3, 1971, my mom did what only she could do: she powered through a brutal wave of early pregnancy symptoms — vomiting, diarrhea, and all — and still showed up for the night shift. She worked in the OR, short-staffed, with a drunk supervisor, missing paperwork, and major heart …
Send us a text On June 2, 1971, while Dick serves on alert in Vietnam, Sarah fights her own battle on the home front — against a broken military bureaucracy trying to force her into more months of work during her pregnancy. In this bold, funny, and sharply worded letter, she tells them exactly wher…
Send us a text In this heartfelt letter from June 2, 1971, Dick writes to Sarah with deep affection, offering updates from Vietnam while encouraging her to take care of herself and their unborn child. He assures her of his constant love, fantasizes about their reunion, and expresses excitement abou…
Send us a text Welcome back to The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Love. It’s June 1, 1971, and a brand-new chapter begins. In today’s episode, Sarah writes from San Antonio after receiving a surprise in the mail — a ring from Dick that fits perfectly and feels like it was made just for her. …