R-95 Sept. 28, 1940
This is Saturday evening – – the end of a beautiful Fall day. In fact, for the last three days, it has been clear and sunshiny and cool with a brisk tang in the clean air. Indoors the temperature has been uncomfortably cool and the fire in the little oil stove in the kitchen and the alcove fireplace is not only welcome but almost necessary.
This is the last day of daylight saving. It is also the last day of our corporate address at 231 Fairfield. Monday officially our address will be 871 Main St. And that explains why I am writing today. Tomorrow carries a heavy schedule. At 8 AM Hugo Schalich is to be down at the old address with a truck. Dick, Dave, George and myself will thereupon proceed to do the heavy moving work, leaving the lighter jobs to be completed during the week. Dave’s birthday is Monday but because of the moving I expect to be busy all day Monday, so I planned to celebrate on Sunday. That, however, means starting to get dinner after the moving job is finished so a late dinner is indicated. And of course it wouldn’t be cricket to have Dave wash dishes on his birthday, and Dick will undoubtedly have an appointment so that it will probably be fairly late before I get around to writing you, hence this method of stealing a march on myself.
Mr. Ives tells me he is interested in buying some machine which cleans and refines old crankcase oil which is then resold by service stations as cheap oil. The theory is that the oil never loses its lubricating qualities, and if cleaned of sludge and dirt and gasoline it is even better than new oil because some of the rosins and insolubles present in new oil have been burned out in the motor. There is no government tax on this oil, said tax having already been paid. The practice is for Ives, for instance, to go around regularly to the various service stations, buy their old oil for two or three cents per gallon, refine it and resell it to the same stations. The cost of the whole cycle from collection of old oil to delivery of refined product is about $.20 per gallon, leaving a spread of $.40 (at $.15 a quart) to be divided between the service station and Ives – – that is the theory at least. There is said to be no difficulty in being able to find an ample supply of old oil. The question is how much of it can be sold.
Dick tells me tonight that he and Bobby Kascak intend to start on their months treck next Sunday evening. They will head for Florida and drive all night in order to get through the Metropolitan New York traffic when it is lightest.
Another bolt out of the blue was the announcement one evening this week from Elizabeth that they were moving out of the apartment this week – – this in spite of the promise and my plea that they please give me reasonable notice so that I could try to get someone else in there and not be left without the income which is so necessary to keep our heads above water, but as might be expected, neither of them gave little thought to the other fellow, where to do so would interfere with their own selfish interests. It seems that as Arvin has enlisted and left, Zeke decided he could save money by going back home. I believe this is a great mistake but my opinion was not sought and will not be volunteered. It may be one of those exceptions but time only will tell. Arnold is doing their moving for them in the old Ford. David is very anxious for me to shut up this part of the house, drain the water and not try to heat it at all, thus saving the coal money, which seems not a bad idea with only Dave and I to take care of this big place and both of us away the better part of the day. If nobody comes along promptly and rents it,that is probably what I shall do.
Tomorrow and Thursday I’ll be posting the rest of this letter… with quick notes to each of the boys and more news of Trumbull. Judy Guion