The “apartment” is the smaller section to the right
Page 3 2/4/1945
And speaking of rent of the apartment, Catherine, as you probably recall, is leaving tomorrow or next day to join Paul in Oklahoma. This morning, Ag. Ives called up and said she knew a young fellow, now working in Chance Vought in Stratford and living at home in Weston, where he had to drive 50 miles each day to and from work, who with a young married friend of his, were looking for a place to live nearer Stratford, and asked if the apartment were available. I told her Catherine had decided to leave all her furniture to save storage charges and because “afterward” they wanted to come back to Trumbull, and if these young folks, all in their early 20s (men were deferred classes on account of eyes) wanted the place under the circumstances, with the understanding that when the weather permitted, Carl Laufer would come over and do some minor necessary repairs, they could come and look it over. So this afternoon they did come, liked the place a lot and asked if they could move right in next Saturday without waiting for repairs, and if I didn’t mind, they could do some things themselves in the repairing and decorating line. As Catherine also had told them they could do anything to the furniture they wanted to, they seemed quite pleased with the whole idea. They have a little cocker spaniel and how he will get along with Smoky remains to be seen. They impressed us all as being exceptionally nice youngsters and with Mrs. Ives recommending them, it seems that we are as pleased as apparently they are. However, it is wise to reserve judgment in view of the old saying about the proof of the pudding being in the eating.
I heard a few more details about the Strobel “missing in action” business and it doesn’t sound too good. You may have read of on American transport having been recently sunk with a number rescued and a number unaccounted for. Your Strobel was one of the latter. Mr. Powell’s son was in the 1st Cavalry, the outfit reported a while ago as having taken Manila. When I see him he’ll be giving me an earful. The new post office was opened and we still have Box 7 but this time, instead of twirling a knob, you open it with the key. A postal card from Dorothy from Ogden, Utah, en route to California, promises a letter from Los Angeles. A letter from Helen mentions that the deal Ted was interested in a while ago is off. A letter from Red Sirene thanks me for a pamphlet I had sent him, says that while he has lost almost all contact with architecture, he’s getting “experience” in construction. He says: “I hope your scattered seeds are all happy, healthy and that you are in good spirits (after shoveling all that snow a little spirits wouldn’t hurt anybody). I received a letter from the youngest embryo who modestly cast off his new rank with the statement that “one was left over”. I took pains to explain to him that it was probably the urgent need of the high command for his talents that prompted his “leaving the ranks”. I’m still in hopes of running into Dan here. I know that he is in the same area. I simply have to sift him out of 3 million people.” So long, Dave, old scout and good luck, from
Tomorrow and Friday, I’ll post another letter from Grandpa to his correspondents.
On Saturday and Sunday, more Special Pictures.