Friends – Flor Williams To Lad – Aug., 1941

This is the rest of Flor’s letter to Lad shortly after he left Venezuela to go home.

APG - Flor and Martin Williams, Bob Ross, visiting from Trinidad, April, 1940

Bob Ross, Flor Williams and Martin Williams  

(I wonder if this was taken just prior to the flight she talks about or if it was another flight, but that is Bob Ross with them. Martin could be seeing his wife off on her trip to Caracas.)

I don’t know that there is much new around here. Joe Kelley went up to the states the beginning of July to join the Air Corps, but from a letter we have received from him recently, we note that he failed the eye exam in three different localities, so that leaves that out. He saw Mr. Hardy down there, who offered him a job with the new Seismo crew coming down in December, as sole operator under Judson, whom Joe likes very much, and a good salary, and he is seriously thinking of accepting. It would be nice to have him back, and what a break for Carmen Luisa.

Bob Ross is on vacation and says he is having a grand time. He is also coming back, and that helps to, because he is a grand boy.

Joe Grant is being sent to the Grav. Meter Crew (near Maturin) tomorrow, and he is not very keen on the idea, because although Gerdes told him it would only be for three weeks or a month, he is afraid that once he gets there it won’t be so easy to get away.

The Enscoonatus will be moving to Cantuara the end of this month.

We have only heard once from the Wrights in the states, and they were still in Minneapolis, not knowing yet what they would do. We’re expecting to hear from them again soon.

There is a fellow by the name of Wood in the garage in your place. I have only seen him once, but he seems nice.

Larry Sieck left on the 15th. I went up on the same plane to spend the weekend in Caracas with my mother and Charlie (my brother) who arrived the 6th. We got as far as Maiquetia and had to turn back because it was impossible to land! We had lunch at home (Gloria’s eyes almost popped out when she saw me back so soon!) and started off again at 12:45. The second time we got there safely, although we were flying so low that as we passed the Hotel Miramar in Macuto it looked to be on the same level as us.

I found my Mother quite a bit thinner, she was very sick while in New York, but otherwise okay. Charlie fine. I had a good rest while in Caracas, which did me a lot of good.

Woody finally quit! He did it very suddenly, when he did do it, and they had to borrow a mechanic from the Pan Am to make the last couple of trips. As you might remember, the company has been thinking for quite a while of sending the plane back, as there was something wrong with it. Well, Woody’s leaving brought this to a head, as they finally decided to send it back, so it can either be fixed or exchanged for another one, and at the same time so that Red can pick out a new mechanic to his taste. We all hope the plane won’t be gone too long because it is only then that I, for one, feel isolated. They left here on the 21st. Ruth went along; and Woody consented to go as mechanic; it will save him a lot of money, too.

Everyone around here is fine and sends you best regards. The Leander’s Tiny is going to have pups. I don’t think she’s too happy about the whole thing, either.

I had better sign off now, as I have some more letters to write, among them to Joe Kelley, and one to Bishop’s wife, at his request, giving her an idea what she should bring (and believe me that’s going to be a whopper).

Martin joins me in sending Cecilia and your folks best regards (even if we don’t know them, we’ve heard so much about them from you) and for yourself the very best of luck and don’t forget us, even if you do go in the Army.


Tomorrow, I’ll be posting three short notes, one to Lad from Uncle Ted Human (the Uncle who brought him to Venezuela in the first place) and two from Carl Wayne, Proprietor of the Red Horse Service Station in Trumbull, to Dan, Ced and Dick in Alaska.

Thursday and Friday will be a two-part letter from Grandpa to his boys in Alaska.

Judy Guion

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