The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Love

Send us Fan Mail With only eleven days left until their reunion, Sarah spends the entire day writing to Dick — adding to her letter like a diary, hour by hour, to feel closer to him. Meanwhile, Dick writes from Vietnam with the same countdown on his mind, sharing his travel details and everyday moments with the same mix of humor, affection, and longing. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Throu...

Send us Fan Mail On November 8, 1971, Sarah writes about caring for the baby she’s carrying—tracking every kick, every meal, every pound. Dick writes from Vietnam, teasing her about sex and talking about champagne and flight paths. Their letters, written ten days before his return, capture both sides of anticipation: her tenderness and his hunger, her belly and his blues, both hearts already on th...

Send us Fan Mail As the countdown to Dick’s return continues, Sarah hosts a packed apartment for the LSU–Alabama game while Dick grills steaks with Pie and dreams of coming home. Their worlds are thousands of miles apart, yet connected by love, laughter, and football — a tradition that will carry on for decades to come. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Love is a personal...

Send us Fan Mail It’s Friday, November 5, 1971. Sarah is glowing and restless at seven months pregnant — juggling doctor appointments, lunches, sewing projects, and nights out with friends to fill the long, lonely hours. Dick, across the world in Vietnam, has finally secured his flight home. The countdown to their reunion has officially begun. In this episode, we read all three letters from this d...

Send us Fan Mail It’s Alabama–LSU weekend — the rivalry that runs deep in the South and, as it turns out, through generations of the Allgood family. In 1971, Sarah’s hosting a taco-party game night while Dick writes from Vietnam, worn down by the Air Force but counting the days until he’s home. Football, aspirin, tacos, and love — all part of the countdown to reunion. Support the show The Allgoods...

Send us Fan Mail It’s November 3, 1971. My dad’s in Vietnam — exhausted, frustrated with the Air Force, and counting down fifteen more wake-ups until he can finally come home. My mom’s in San Antonio, surrounded by friends, everyday routines, and the growing life inside her. She’s feeling their baby move, thinking about what it means to finally be a family. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam T...

Send us Fan Mail From April through October 1971, Sarah and Dick Allgood wrote hundreds of letters across an ocean — a living record of love, war, pregnancy, and perseverance. In this special recap episode, I pause to reflect on what these first seven months have revealed, what it’s taken to read them, and why this story still matters. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Lov...

Send us Fan Mail It’s the first day of November 1971, and the countdown is officially on. Sarah is sixteen days away from seeing Dick again, and she’s doing everything she can to make the time move faster — cleaning, sewing, laughing, and writing through the waiting. Her humor shines in this letter, even when she’s low, with lines like “I couldn’t climb a step ladder and shake hands with a snake”...

Send us Fan Mail It’s November 2, 1971 — fifteen days until Dick comes home on leave. Sarah’s nesting, organizing, and laughing her way through the waiting — describing her growing belly, her baby’s “love kick,” and her latest sewing projects. Dick’s letter is full of tenderness and routine — a hamburger at the club, a beer with friends, and a blackjack game — all while counting down the days unti...

Send us Fan Mail Halloween 1971 — Dick can’t get a phone line out from Vietnam, and Sarah can’t stop counting the weekends until he’s home for a short leave. Their letters from this night capture exhaustion, humor, and aching anticipation. It’s the last day of October, and both of them are dreaming of November — and of finally being together, if only for two weeks Support the show The Allgoods: Vi...

Send us Fan Mail As October draws to a close, Dick dreams of his entire life with Sarah, while she spends the day painting, cleaning, and getting ready for the baby she can’t wait to hold. Their letters reveal the rhythm they’ve created across oceans — one built on anticipation, care, and the simple joy of imagining their family together at last Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the E...

Send us Fan Mail Two letters written on the same day — one from a lonely wife surrounded by couples, the other from a frustrated husband fighting red tape. Sarah, seven months pregnant, keeps her hands busy and her heart steady — painting a highchair, dreaming about home, and reaching out to her mom when the loneliness wins. Dick, in Vietnam, battles a new “no-checks” rule just trying to buy his p...

Send us Fan Mail Two letters written the same day — one from Vietnam, one from San Antonio. My dad, Dick, is planning to buy his ticket home the next morning. My mom, Sarah, is seven months pregnant with me, feeling every kick and learning to sleep again. They both mention Thanksgiving plans, family, and the few weeks they’ll finally have together — protecting that time as something sacred Support...

Send us Fan Mail It’s October 27, 1971. My mom writes from San Antonio — very pregnant, missing my dad, and thinking about all the little things that make their life together what it is. She talks about having dinner with friends, cooking steaks, and realizing how lucky she is — not just to have him writing her every day, but to have him. It’s the only letter we have from this day, but it says eve...

Send us Fan Mail It’s October 26, 1971. Sarah is seven months pregnant and counting down the final weeks until Dick’s R&R. She calls him “my beloved,” remembering the first night they made love and the life they’ve built since. Dick, half a world away, writes that he’s ready to get away from the Air Force and all the “bullshit.” Both are running on fumes—tired, lonely, and desperate to hear ea...

Send us Fan Mail On October 25, 1971, two letters cross the ocean — one from my dad in Vietnam, one from my mom in San Antonio. He finally makes the trip he’s been talking about for days — a quick run to Long Binh with his commanding officer, Ken. She spends her day at home, seven months pregnant, missing him, and angry at the Air Force. Fifty-four years later, their daughter — me — reads the lett...

Send us Fan Mail The war is dragging on. In Vietnam, Dick faces another long day on alert — one short fifteen-minute scramble breaking up endless waiting. In San Antonio, Sarah is surrounded by people, phone calls, and the latest neighborhood drama: a friend’s son arrested for car theft. Two worlds, one day, and one steady love holding them together across oceans and exhaustion Support the show Th...

Send us Fan Mail Two letters cross the ocean on the same day — one from Vietnam, one from San Antonio. Sarah is surrounded by friends, lasagna, and a little chaos. Dick is half a world away, flying, gambling a dollar into ten, and thinking about the woman who commands his every thought. What unfolds between them isn’t just ordinary love — it’s the kind that turns even distance, budgeting, and long...

Send us Fan Mail On October 22, 1971, my parents had been married for one year, two months, and one day — and they were seven months into the pregnancy that would become me. My dad was in Vietnam, still flying missions, and my mom was in San Antonio, feeling her belly move and counting down the days until he came home. Their letters today are full of love, humor, and everyday life — but for me, th...

Send us Fan Mail Four weeks left. Sarah is restless in San Antonio, and Dick is marking the same days in Vietnam. Their letters on October 21 are filled with humor, longing, and the easy rhythm of two people who know exactly who they are to each other — husband, wife, lover, soon-to-be parents, and best friends counting down to a reunion that can’t come soon enough. Support the show The Allgoods:...

Send us Fan Mail Six months into their separation, Sarah and Dick’s letters reach a new kind of intimacy — fearless, playful, and full of trust. From tie-dye baby shirts and Mexican lunches in San Antonio to quiet nights on alert in Vietnam, they write with a freedom that only comes from knowing their love can hold anything. It’s the sound of two people who’ve crossed every emotional distance imag...

Send us Fan Mail Dick is down to thirty wake-ups in Vietnam, filling his nights with letters, music, and a three-hour tape of The Rolling Stones, Tom Jones, and Crosby, Stills & Nash. In San Antonio, Sarah is still surrounded by rain — cleaning, planning, laughing, and missing him so much she can feel it in her body. Between them is a rhythm of waiting, of love stretched thin but unbroken. Sup...

Send us Fan Mail It’s mid-October 1971. Dick is counting thirty-one wake-ups until a short two-week leave home in November — a brief visit before returning to finish his Vietnam tour in the spring. In San Antonio, Sarah spends another gray, rainy Monday balancing dentist visits, friendship, and the slow ache of missing him. Between them travels a small envelope of photographs — proof that love kee...

Send us Fan Mail On a rainy Sunday in San Antonio, Sarah plans Eggs Benedict and champagne for the morning her husband returns home. Across the world in Vietnam, Dick finalizes his leave — November 18 — and counts down the days. Between cookies, letters, and laughter, they dream of the same kitchen table, the same bed, the same morning light. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes...

Send us Fan Mail While rain falls in San Antonio, Dick bakes an apple pie halfway across the world in Vietnam. Sarah stays home, feeling their baby move so strongly it kicks a piece of paper off her belly. Two lives divided by an ocean — connected by love, longing, and the quiet beginnings of a family that would one day find its way to Big Sky, Montana. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Throu...