Page 2 12/10/44
Ced surprised us by writing another letter which arrived within a week of the last. He mentions first that the Buick repair job is about completed and at a ,total cost of about $300, plus labor which he generously donated himself, including a practically new engine, transmission, brakes, etc. which he estimates will make the old boat give service for about two years more, at least. He made another ski trip to Independence Mine, finishing up by skiing all the way downhill to Fish Hook.
He says: “I saw some prints from original negatives found on a Jap soldier in the Aleutians. The scenes were quite like any an American soldier might have, except that the subjects were all Japanese. There were views of buddies all smiling at the camera, Jap planes on the beach, some on skis, etc. No doubt most of them are now dead, along with many Americans they have killed. Yet actually the individuals have no quarrels with the other except those brought on by imaginary and state sponsored propaganda. I suppose the day will come in the future, perhaps after our time, though I hope sooner, when people will be judged as individuals, not by race or color. That day will almost necessarily have to come after an economy encompassing the whole sphere of the earth has been arranged to the mutual benefit of all peoples, and why not? I don’t know how I get off on these tangents so much, but I can’t seem to help it. Better I should do something about it and talk less.”
He asks if Jane and Jean have become maternity cases yet. (Don’t get excited about the Jean part – – it’s the other Jean). And that reminds me I seem to have been remiss in reporting that both have increased the population of Trumbull with little girl babies. Both doing fine, thank you.
“Anchorage continues to grow by leaps and bounds and soon it will be too big to tolerate. At every trip through a section of the city not visited recently there is a new building of some sort going up or already finished. Poor Rusty will be a complete stranger when he comes into town again. There are a lot of new people here as well. One continually meets new people and says goodbye to old acquaintances. There is a feeling that the territory will grow quickly after the war, and it does seem ripe for a big influx of people looking for the new frontier, and while a lot of them will be disappointed, lots more will stay. As for it remaining a frontier, with all its vastness, I think, due to the airplane, it will soon get out of that stage in the habitable spots. There will always be rugged and wild sections to which one could go to get away from civilization, but I don’t think one could very well live in them. When that day comes, if not before, I shall probably leave the territory. The Alaska that Dan and I first saw in 1940 is already greatly changed. Rusty went to Pt. Barrow to get away from civilization and now the Army is sending in a large crew of men to run mining and survey camps, and I suspect Rusty is a little disappointed, although I haven’t heard from him for over a month now”.
And lastly, he asks about the “old multi-driven Chevy” which he surmises is now relegated to an outside stall with natural air-conditioning, and the A.P. Guion vehicle once again occupies its once past headquarters. I shed a tear for the poor coupe. How undutiful, yet loved and, in a way, faithful, has she been.” You are partly right, Ced. “Honey-bunch”, as Marian terms her faithful “California and back” vehicle, together with her offspring, the trailer, shares quarters with her green counterpart in the old barn, but Chevy-chile, since summer time, has been trying to regain its health at the Kascak sanitarium since summer, no major operation seemed necessary. Dr. A. P. looked it over when he was home last and recommended a course of treatment, pending the time when one of you boys might be home and need a car to go around it. Then Steve (Kascak) phoned one day and asked if he might use it for a while when Bob was home and wanted to use his dad’s car to run around in, and since that time, it has not been “home”, primarily for the reason that there is no place “undercover” to keep it. I suspect if Dave comes home, however, it will see a spurt of active service for a spell.
Tomorrow, the last page of this letter.
On Saturday and Sunday, more Special Pictures.
Next week I’ll be posting letters written in 1941, when Lad is living and working in Venezuela and Dan and Ced are anxiously awaiting the delivery of a vehicle from brother Dick in the spring.