Friends – Martin and Flor Williams From Venezuela (1) – July, 1941


APG - Lad with Flor and Martin Williams in Trumbull

Lad with Flor and Martin Williams in Trumbull

Anzoategui Camp

July 17, 1941

Dear Al,

We received your very nice letter of June 29th in due time, and I’m really sorry not to have answered sooner, but truly I haven’t had a breathing spell in ages. The fact that Mr. Wardlaw left Tuesday the 15th on vacation and Mr. Lodge is in his place for these coming two months doesn’t help much either, because, although Mr. Lorge is the best suited to replace Mr. Wardlaw, there are a million little details that keep coming up in which I have to put in my hand. I don’t object to long, uninterrupted work, except that it interferes with my own letter writing, and by no means do we wish to lose contact with you folk. The plane made its last trip Tuesday for a couple of weeks to change the motor (Paul could change a motor in a couple of days, if I remember correctly), and for this reason this letter may take a little while in reaching you. It is now 4:15, however, and I’m going to dedicate the next 15 min. to you, because it’s no use starting to file at this late hour (that’s as good an excuse as any).

I humbly apologize for my outrage to “TRUMBULL”, but as I pride myself on the fact that I never make the same mistake twice  (if I can help it ), you can be sure that “TRUMBULL” will be done right by me henceforth.

We are truly glad that you are having such a nice time, but naturally regret that you will not be one of the “crowd” anymore (I have to pick up my own glasses after a party now).

Would you believe it, we haven’t heard from Pat or Willie after a couple of letters we received from them written the same day they landed in Caracas. However, I have absolute confidence in them and am sure that they have good reason for not writing. Probably are too busy and unsettled yet. You’ve no idea how much I miss them, really. Claire and Kay arrived very well and we are terribly glad to have them back. You know I always hit it off well with Claire; there is something about her that reminds me of one or the other of my sisters occasionally; and then too, she has always been very sweet to me. We had a party ready for them at their house when they arrived. It was really Mr. Leander’s party and idea but as he went to Caracas to meet them he left me in charge, and between Mrs. Wardlaw, Ruth and I, we fixed the place up, made some sandwiches, etc.

Margot and Tucker seem to be very happy indeed, and I’m certainly glad. It’s a wonderful break for both Margot and Rosemarie, as it must be tough to be left husbandless and fatherless so young. I doubt that I would ever recover if anything like that happened to me.

Little bird is singing merrily as always in spite of being minus one leg, the poor thing. What caused the accident is clear enough; Gloria dropped the cage (the top of which was loose and she had been warned to be careful) and somehow his little leg got caught. We are making a study of nature, and attempting to record it in color (on our camera). In the tree right in front of our house (a very sparse one, in fact) to little gray birds with blue wings and blue tail have made a nest. We have been watching the proceedings since the eggs, and now the two little birds (the children) are almost ready to fly. I have taken pictures of the parents feeding the little ones (which I hope turnout in spite of lack of telephoto lens), and hope to get some shots of the parents teaching the little ones to fly, which is, I believe, the next step.

July 18, 1941

The ungrateful little wretches flew out today (must have been during office hours) without even saying goodbye. And after me feeding them bread crumbs! Humph! I feel slighted.

I’m enclosing your copy of the famous “Reunion” and hope you will cherish it fondly until the date set therein. After all, one year is gone already. Can you imagine?

We certainly hope that you will get a good job, and won’t have to settle for only $30 per month. That sounds pretty awful, but of course, no sacrifice is too much when it means helping your country in critical times; and from the radio news we get here, times seem to get more critical every day. I pray every day that the US can manage to keep from sending men over. I want them to help lick the tar out of Hitler all right but I do hope they can do it without sacrificing any lives.

I’m terribly sorry that you have wasted two trips going to see my mother. When you left I didn’t know it, but since sometime in June she has been with my brother in Long Island. I should have let you know, but it wasn’t until recently that I received her address. It wouldn’t do you any good to give it to you now, as she is sailing for Caracas on August 1. Charlie, my brother, is sailing with her.

Judging by the statistics you give me relating to your dates with Cecelia, I’d say you’re doing all right, keed!

Tomorrow I’ll be posting the rest of this letter, with news from the happenings in Vemezuela since Lad’s departure.

On Saturday and Sunday, I’ll post letters from Biss, the only female in the family, about her new adventure in St. Petersburg, Florida, where she is living with her Aunt Anne (Peabody) Stanley and her children, Donald and Gwen.

Judy Guion


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