Family pleads for return of parents' stolen letters

There were hundreds of the precious letters, written more than a half-century ago between Becky Endlich's late parents during the Korean War, and they were in a cardboard box in the trunk of her car.

Among many things revealed, they gave a glimpse into the private romance between a wife and her husband that the children rarely see.

"Good night, dearest sweetheart. I wore your earrings to church. I just love them and you, too — Peggy."

"I can't think of anything else to say. Except I love you. Kiss the children for me. I'll be seeing you soon. Goodnight, sweetheart — Ed."

Then earlier this month, Endlich's locked 1990 Honda Accord was stolen — for the third time in three years — in broad daylight from in front of a Lynnwood hair business.

Police later recovered the car in Tukwila, mired up to the door frame in mud. The trunk was popped, and all the precious letters were gone except for two that were wet and crinkled from the rain.

Now Endlich is hoping whoever stole her Honda will read this and care. Or maybe the letters have been found by a stranger.

"Our family is grief-stricken to think that someone would do such a thing," Endlich, who is the librarian at Edmonds-Woodway High School, wrote to The Seattle Times in hope that the theft would be publicized.

"These are priceless to us, but of no value to anyone else."

Endlich was carrying the letters that day to make copies to give to her siblings and their children as personal keepsakes.

The letters were written over the course of 14 months, the only time her parents, Ed and Peggy Payne, were separated in their marriage of more than 46 years. In late 1951, when Ed Payne was called to fight in Korea, he was an Air Force reservist and a new dentist in Longview. He and Peggy had three children under 8. When he left, the couple didn't know Peggy was pregnant with their fourth child.

In one of the letters, Peggy wrote about going to get a pregnancy test. In another, she described the newborn: "Another beautiful dark-haired baby. This one with your brown eyes."

In another letter, Ed counsels his son "to be the man of the family while Dad is gone."

The family struggled financially while he was away, living only on his military pay. At one point, Peggy had to rent out their home and move with the four children to a tiny apartment. But on a furlough to Japan, Ed scraped together enough to buy Peggy a pair of pearl earrings, the ones she would write about wearing to church. They are now in Endlich's dresser drawer.

When he returned from the war, Ed built a successful dentistry practice. He and Peggy lived simply, "with integrity and honor," and were respected in the community and trusted by their friends, Endlich recalled. Peggy died at 76 in 1986. Ed died at 85 in 1992.

The letters sat in a basement cupboard for more than three decades before they were found. To Endlich, they offer a family portrait of the couple's day-to-day life and of their longing to be together.

In the cadence of their letters, Endlich says she can almost hear them talking about their dreams and private thoughts about the children.

"I'm not interested in punishing people at this point; I just want my letters back," she said. "Maybe they can do it anonymously."

Marsha King: 206-464-2232 or mking@seattletimes.com