Fave - September 1971 (Typed by Carol R.)

The Five Fan Letters Bobby Cherishes Most...
And Why! - Part 2

Hi again! Glad to see you're still with me. Last week I told you how I was getting ready to move when I came across the beat-up old box stuck away up high in a corner of my closet, where I put all the little treasures that I don't ever want to lose. I was telling you about my most favorite letters from you, but before I go on with that, I thought you might be interested to know what other kinds of things are in there! There's my high-school diploma, tied with a ribbon, and the Valentine I got from a little girl I loved madly in the fourth grade. There's a picture of me with Dopey, my beloved little dog who was hit by a car on the day of the big earthquake, and there's the collar Dopey wore. So you see, not all the memories are happy. There's also a copy of the very first record I ever made (actually, I'm sort of afraid to listen to it now - I might not like it at all), and a still photo from the first television show I ever appeared on. There's a faded, dog-eared picture of my parents taken when they were on their honeymoon, and they look so young and full of hope! The list goes on and on. Maybe some day soon I'll write about everything else that's in there, and tell you why I saved each one! If you'd like that, I'll do it! But now back to the letters, which I treasure as much or more than anything else in there!

THE FOURTH LETTER - The next letter is relatively new, and the envelope in which it arrived is made of fine, almost transparent rice paper. I love this one because it brings back memories of one of the happiest times I've ever had as an entertainer - my tour of Japan. It was a little scary sometimes, and the crowds got out of hand once or twice, but my memory of the audiences is one of limitless warmth and love, like I've almost never experienced. When we were in Tokyo, the lines outside the theater were enormous, and when we pulled up in our car, it looked so crowded that we pulled around into an alley and went through the back door. As I got out of the car, I saw a girl up the alley a little way, crying as though her heart would break. Despite the urgings of the police, who wanted me to get inside quickly, I went over to her and tried to ask her what was wrong. She spoke almost no English at all, but her eyes when she saw me told me that I was the cause of her unhappiness - apparently she couldn't get in because all the tickets were gone. I took her by the hand and led her to one of the policemen who acted as a translator.

She had saved money for months and months, and then gotten a ride all the way from her parents' farm just to see the show - and now she had to run around and go home without seeing anything! Just at that point in her story, a large group of girls came around the corner and caught sight of us and started screaming and running toward us. Without even thinking, I grabbed her hand and we ducked in through the door together, and just in time, too!

Once she was inside, I asked the guard to tell her that she could watch from backstage, and her face lit up like a small child's at Christmas. She told me her name was Miyoshi, and one of the stagehands pulled up a chair in the wings where she could see everything. The show that night was fantastic, and I'll never forget Miyoshi's face when I said goodbye to her.

When I got home, this letter was on top of the stack of mail.

"Dear Mr. Bobby,

There is not too much English I know how to write. My brother, Yushio, is helping me to telling you what it is I feel. Our world is a very hard place with everybody hating everybody all the time and saying terrible things about others. Big oceans hold us apart and we cannot look at other peoples' faces enough to see that they are just like us.

Not everybody in my country likes the Americans, saying that they are too rich and they don't care about anybody. And so the people who want to make trouble can say lies about you and your country and our poor people don't know what to believe.

But I know what to believe. Your eyes showed me and your voice even though the words meant little. Your kindness has made me love Americans better than ever before, and I have faith that our countries will always be friends.

It is amazing and strange. In one hour you did more to make me and thousands like me know what an American really is than all our politicians have ever done.

If there is one thing that will help this crazy world, it is love and love is what you brought us, all the way from America. Thank you for a gift I will always carry with me."

Sayonara,
Miyoshi"

Of course, I was very flattered, but the reason I love that letter is deeper than that. I believe, like Miyoshi, that love and music and looking into people's eyes will solve the problems of the world much sooner than politicians with their statistics and numbers. Thank you, Miyoshi!

THE LAST LETTER - The last letter is shoved way up in the back corner of the box, and it's so old and crumpled that I've scotch-taped it everywhere it folds to keep it from falling apart! It's written on faded lined school notebook paper with a ball-point pen that splotched all over the paper, but I couldn't treasure this letter more if it had been written with a quill pen on precious parchment!

I would imagine I've read it a thousand times. For a long time, I carried it in my wallet, and it shows the wear and tear, but I don't care. It's probably the most valuable thing I own, and I'll have it as long as I live!

It's from Melissa, who was eleven when she wrote it, and it's got the direct, no-words-wasted quality that often happens when very young people express their feelings.

"Dear Bobby Sherman,

I saw you last night on the television set. I think you sing better than anyone and I love you very much. My mother says that I can marry you when I grow up, if it's all right with you. I have never told a boy I love him before, so I hope you love me back.

XXXX
(those are kisses)
Melissa"

The letter was addressed to "Bobby Sherman, Hollywood, USA" and I'll never thank the Post Office enough for getting it to me in care of the studio I was working at then.

Why do I love it so much?

Because it was the first - the very first - fan letter I ever got in my life! In many ways, it was the beginning of a dream coming true, and it was also the first time I ever felt the thing that is my biggest reward of being in show-business - the love that pours in, day after day, from people I've never even met.

So that's it, my five most treasured fan letters. Those won't be the only ones that ever go into my memory box, though, and I read through all the new ones every day, never knowing what kind of a treasures I may be opening with each envelope!

Keep writing!

Love,
Bobby