Trumbull, January 17, 1943
I see in each of you this afternoon a singer of a particular song. Your specialty, Lad, might be “California, here I come”. Ced, with his long absence from the family circle (or is it a polygon) ought to be able to render with feeling “I’ll see you again”. And Dan, like Old Man River, he don’t say nothing but just keeps rolling along.
The home fires were kindled anew this week by receipt of a letter from Lad. The California Chamber of Commerce evidently failed to reach him in time as his comments on the weather in Arcadia do not ring the bell. He arrived a few days sooner than he was supposed to report, spent them in visiting various USO camps, reported for duty and was promptly quarantined. His trip consumed gasoline and rubber, 4200 miles worth, to find his new quarters under course of remodeling after serving as a Jap concentration camp. Outside of condenser and radiator trouble, the car performed admirably. He did not say what passengers he had from Flint to Los Angeles but promises to give trip details in a later letter. Oh, by the way, Lad, I stopped in at the Blue Print Shop in the Arcade in Bridgeport yesterday and one Evelyn Kreglin asked me how you were and remarked she was still awaiting a letter from you. No matter where I go, I seem to bump into someone who considers me noteworthy as Lad’s father. Ah, Fame, thou should be made of sterner stuff.
I heard indirectly from Dan this week in the shape of a $25 war savings bond jointly registered in his name and mine. It will go into my safe deposit box in the Bridgeport City Trust Company in Dan’s envelope along with his stock certificate, etc. Dan did not again put in an appearance this week nor burden Uncle Sam’s Postal Service with any letters, but the trap is set for next week. With the scarcity of meat nowadays, it is difficult to get any selection at all, so I have already left an order for a leg of lamb for next week in the hope it will be forthcoming in time for next Sunday’s dinner.
Ced’s fate is still undetermined as far as any definite news as to his status is concerned, but I am hoping for a letter this week, which will clear up this moot point.
Barbara (Plumb) and Jean (Hughes) have both received, at their request, application forms to be filled out for joining the Spars, which I understand is affiliated with the Coast Guard. Mrs. Warden says Ethel Bushey told her Mr. Ives was not expected to live much longer. The older Buckingham youngster has scarlet fever and is in a Bridgeport Hospital. Hitler is threatened with a case of the jitters and that is all the news this week.
The battery in my car is getting senile so in spite of Carl’s salesmanship to induce me to get a Willard, I recalled Lad’s favorable mention of the Shepard battery and have ordered one made to order, which Mr. Shepherd says will be the last one coming through with rubber case. I expect to get delivery this week.
Write me and who can tell but what in reply I may write a two-page letter, instead of just a single page. I develop a mirthless laugh when I hear over the radio how anxious the boys in the service are to receive letters from home. Perhaps I am cynical and ought to _________________. DAD
I’ll finish out the week with two more one-page letters from Grandpa to all three boys far from home.