The Power of Letter Writing

Did you know that September 1 is World Letter Writing Day?

In 2014, Australian author Richard Simpkin launched this holiday to celebrate the art of letter writing and its power to foster connection and creativity. I can attest to that on both fronts!

Pensacola resident Kristen Alger, author of Letters of a Traveling Architect © 2025, recently brought the annual observance to my attention. As Kristen and I both learned in our book authoring journeys, letters do far more than nurture relationships and creative thinking. They tell stories. Oh, the stories!

I have personal experience with the immense power of letters—and several examples documented in The Westcott Story.

Long before setting off for college, I became a regular letter writer. It started nearly 60 years ago with the letters I wrote and received when I was 14. I regularly corresponded with friends in Pittsburgh while my family summered each year in Madison, Ohio. Those five-cent stamps launched a habit of writing—and saving—letters that has stayed with me. The practice now takes the form of customized, handwritten birthday photo cards that I mail each year to more than 200 in my large circle of family and friends—30+ years running.

Part of the allure stemmed from a captivating letter that floated in our household when I was a teenager. It was reportedly written by a distant maternal ancestor of mine and friend of Martha Washington’s “Custis” grandchildren. Elizabeth Westcott was similarly aged when she was invited as a houseguest of the Washingtons at Mount Vernon. She penned the letter to her mother on June 27, 1796, providing an intimate view of the Washingtons’ “rigorous and precise daily schedule” and her impression of another houseguest, the son of the Marquis de la Fayette, “one of the most pleasing young men I have ever known.” 

“I stayed there three nights and three days, but in the meantime received so much attention from the President and Mrs. Washington that I can never forget.” Eloquently written in beautiful cursive, Elizabeth described every detail of how “they live in great style and with utmost regularity.” She characterized the President as “one of the most charming men in the world, always in good spirits, and making his chief study to render all around him as happy as possible . . . His attention to young [Georges Washington Louis Gilbert de La] Fayette, son of the Marquis de la Fayette, was exactly those he would pay to his own son and are received as they should be by him . . . Indeed, the situation of his family would alone render him interesting. No part of which is ever spoken of without his shedding tears.”

Only later did I understand how profoundly Elizabeth’s letter had impacted me! I was naturally intrigued by her command of the written word and by the significance of her letter as tracing our lineage so far back in time. I believe it was the spark that first ignited my interest in preserving my own place in our country’s short history through the letters I wrote and collected.

During my family research that gave rise to the 14-generation Westcott history in America, I learned of Elizabeth’s premature and tragic death in 1798, just two years after penning the account of her exhilarating experience at Mount Vernon. Wading through family archives, I also came across a few rather outlandish examples of letter writing as a creative outlet.

Consider Henry “Reed” Hoke (1894–1970) who established early roots in my hometown of Pittsburgh and developed an interest and highly innovative business in the emerging field of direct mail. His love of direct mail started while a junior and senior at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania in 1916–1917. He wrote love letters for guys who were “too lazy to write their ones-and-only.” Putting himself in the other guy’s shoes, he learned how “powerful, useful, and resultful” letters could be.

The letter-writing practice launched Reed Hoke’s 53-year career in direct mail. He loved people. Direct mail in its simplest form was the communications tool of people—the individual. Reed was nearly a fanatic on letters, letter writing . . . on how to project warmth, friendliness, and sincerity. He used to say, “Direct mail is the people’s medium, the medium the little guy can afford.” Such was the inspiration Reed gained from writing love letters for the “lazy” guys as an inventive college student.

Here’s another angle on the creative potential of “letters” found in The Westcott Story. It relates to my first cousin’s daughter Kristina—a fellow Westcott descendant—and her “eclectic prankster” husband Jake Bronstein. In his early adult life, Jake gained fame in New York City as a self-proclaimed “fun evangelist.” One of his many publicity stunts came from offering 1,000 strangers a hand-written love letter. ABCNews.com picked up the story, and Jake’s letters reached the far corners of the globe. Jake and his fellow scribe Kristina wrote stacks of random love letters at a time to make people smile and feel good about themselves. It worked like a charm.

From personal experience, I learned that not just writing letters holds value . . . collecting them does too. While writing The Westcott Story chronologically across a 400-year horizon, I eventually arrived at generations 11 and 12 with stories to be told about my parents and my eight siblings and me. The first thing I did was pull their letters from my growing collection. I’ve not thrown one away in 60 years! Like the days of yore when we searched library card catalogs, I could readily locate them among stacks organized by person.

Wading through each letter, I was taken aback by how many letters my father wrote me over many years. They were quite brief with his characteristic cutting humor, but it struck me that he cared enough to write often. In my mother’s stack I read one amusing letter in which she relayed the extraordinary effort that went into simultaneously hosting a friends’ dinner party and entertaining my dad’s business clients in town for the Pittsburgh Pirates’ run in the World Series in 1971. The colorful tale brought me in touch with what it must have been like for my mother to raise nine children—eight of them within eleven years. Can you imagine?

Meanwhile, during my teen and early adult years, my six older siblings and I exchanged letters not infrequently once they left the nest. The letters brought back memories and historical context that enriched our collective “Generation 12” story as found in 120 pages of The Westcott Story. I don’t imagine I would have had nearly as much to share about we baby boomers without reference to the trove at my disposal. Who knew the correspondence could become the source of such rich material for a book!

Lest you forget, September 1 is World Letter Writing Day. It celebrates the enduring power of the written word. Take note. Put pen to paper. Write something worth keeping. You may be surprised by the creative outlet—and by how much that letter, and the memories it preserves, will mean to you years down the line.

Letter writing has the added benefit of satisfying our need to matter to the people who matter most to us. It is the gift that keeps on giving.

© 2026 Christine Broderick Emmanuel

Website: https://www.ChristineBEmmanuel.com

The Westcott Story is available at Amazon.com