The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Love

Send us Fan Mail 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 run, so he’s sending this one regular. But what follows is anything but ordinary. He tells her to...

Send us Fan Mail 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 got mailed, what her coworkers are like, how she’s feeling, and how their friends are doing. He even...

Send us Fan Mail 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 to Sarah is unwavering. What begins with a playful “How do you like being the wife of me?” quickly t...

Send us Fan Mail 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, and full of the kind of unfiltered honesty that makes these letters so unforgettable. I’ll be hone...

Send us Fan Mail 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 physically, but emotionally — and what it feels like to love someone so much that just seeing and t...

Send us Fan Mail 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 at it today, because this project is my way of honoring them. They never stopped writing to each o...

Send us Fan Mail 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 they had planned together before he deployed. That baby was me. Sarah was still serving in the Air...

Send us Fan Mail 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 spot held deep personal significance for her — for years, we participated as a family in the Columbus...

Send us Fan Mail 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 private “chick-a-dee” exchanges to his reflections on how they “make love in so many ways” — even thr...

Send us Fan Mail 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 at empty parties, to a moment of pure physical longing when Dick’s words stir her most private des...

Send us Fan Mail 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 life a little better for his crew. That night, after a barbecue and a quick visit to the club, he...

Send us Fan Mail 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 Texas heat by the pool, playing cribbage, and passing time at the club. But beneath the surface, her...

Send us Fan Mail 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., her body aching from long shifts and early pregnancy, her heart aching with longing. She records a...

Send us Fan Mail 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 all his life. In fact, one of the hardest parts of his final years was losing his sight when cancer...

Send us Fan Mail 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 how their love first began. “How’s it going to be for you to make mad and passionate love to a very...

Send us Fan Mail “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 card — because every time he tried, his eyes would swell up with tears and he couldn’t see. “I kno...

Send us Fan Mail 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. Through tears, she tells him everything she’s feeling. “I had to pause for tears so I could talk,...

Send us Fan Mail 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 apart from my mom. But instead of deciding alone, he turns to her with deep love and respect and asks...

Send us Fan Mail In 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 baby they were expecting. He calls her his “lover, wife, and mother of my baby.” I’m reading these w...

Send us Fan Mail 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 months apart. As their daughter reading this now, I’m struck again by how deliberately my parents k...

Send us Fan Mail 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 frustration with bureaucracy — all while reaffirming his unwavering love. More than anything, this letter...

Send us Fan Mail 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 distance and the war, he’s grateful for the timing of his deployment: because it allowed him and Sa...

Send us Fan Mail 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 make her feel close to him: grape soda, peanut butter, and their favorite show from Vegas. She snaps...

Send us Fan Mail 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, prompting a bit of sarcastic humor and suspicion of an inside job. But at the center of this letter is...

Send us Fan Mail 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 his ache to be by Sarah’s side—missing her body, her letters, and their growing baby. This episode ma...