With Lad and Dan able to get home on a relative basis, Ced is the only one receiving regular letters at this point.
Trumbull, Conn., Sept. 27, 1942
‘Tis one of those heavy dull days, damp within and without, that seem to permeate into one’s brain cells and arouse enough enthusiasm to induce a nap. The only event to lift one temporarily out of the state of sluggishness was having Lad home with us again for Sunday dinner, he having hitchhiked from Aberdeen and surprisingly, making the trip in less time than he would by train on an overall basis. He reports having driven his car down last Sunday without mishap of any sort. Tires held up and gas held out. He will probably sell it if he gets an attractive offer or is transferred to California. The latter he feels is a possibility. Dan had expected to get home but had to go on guard duty so the chances are he will try to make it next weekend when we are celebrating Dave’s birthday.
Sylvia writes she has been granted a six-day leave and asks if she might visit us some time from October 5th to 7th, as she is going to be married, probably in January, and will then leave either for England or Canada. Her fiancé is Douglas Ward Campbell of the R.A.F. A further review of the weekly letter box reveals a letter from Aunt Helen, now at the Hotel Dallas Park, Miami, Fla., who reports that Ted has not been well, but is much better again, that she enjoyed her stay in Brownsville of almost a year very much – – much better in fact than Miami. Another letter – – from Rufus Burnham – – mentions that he and Louise are alone together for the first time in 25 years. Helen is teaching at Northfield, Eleanor is working for the Prudential in Newark, Brad is still at Yale (the Marines sent him six months notice recently) and Davis just started at Loomis School, Windsor, Conn. He says that the cancer that was the cause of Austin Batchelders losing his leg has spread to his lungs and there is no hope. The last word (received from Louise from May some weeks ago) was that he was losing ground rapidly and was receiving daily doses of morphine. A note from Aunt Elsie asks me to say to you boys that Sharafft’s are advertising they will give a free meal to men in uniform at the rate of four men every hour. She doesn’t know what they do if the soldiers have guests.
With Dick’s help I have thoroughly patched up all the holes and leaks in the old furnace in the hope that it will last at least another winter. The next job will be putting an asbestos overcoat over the patches and the old asbestos. Yesterday, with Red’s help, we did a Portland cement concrete job around the new cellar windows I had installed, so we are gradually getting winterproofed.
Dick has a cold, Dave a very bad one and I suppose I am being bombarded by invisible germs, which I hope I may be able to resist, although with the hay fever also hovering around, it may be an extra hard tussle. The hay fever, by the way, has not been so bad this summer. Aunt Betty keeps well and sends her best to you all. Mr. Kurtz, I understand, is ill, and has been in the hospital but is home again.
I fear this is a very uninteresting letter but it seems to be about the top of my efforts at present. At least it keeps up the record for continuous performance in the best vaudeville tradition and won’t let us down on the weekly letter schedule, if quality is not scrutinized to highly. Give my old paint slinging friend a rousing clout on the back for me and tell him to write me another report on your doings when the spirit moves him. Meanwhile, here’s hoping your larder continues to be stocked with meat (We’re running short here). Keep em frying. DAD
This weekend, I’ll be posting more memories of early Trumbull from my Fad and his siblings.
Next week, I’ll be posting letters written in 1945 as the family gets ready for more news of the wedding plans of Dan and Paulette.