It’s Easter and Grandpa is remembering the happy times when all his children and his wife were at the Trumbull house with him. He sounds quite nostalgic, doesn’t he?
Trumbull, Conn. Easter Sunday April 25, 1943
To my dear little Easter bunnies:
With all my brood away, except one, and no jellybeans, it hasn’t seemed a bit like Easter today. However, in another sense you all almost rang the gong this week because the mail brought letters from Dan and Ced and even Dick. I hoped up till yesterday afternoon that one would arrive from Lad to complete the lineup but was doomed to disappointment on that score.
Needless to say I missed all you boys (this especially so on holidays or special occasions). I recalled past Easter’s when you were little tykes and the family all got together and the children hunted for Easter eggs, jelly beans, etc.; I recalled the sunrise service in Stratford that Ced used to get such a kick out of attending; the colored eggs, new clothes, bright sunshine and all the rest that makes up a composite Easter memory and wondering how you all spent the day under Uncle Sam’s wing. I got quite a thrill driving home the other day in the car up North Main Street, approaching the bus terminal up near the Log Cabin. In the distance coming toward me, walking, was a great tall lanky long-legged rascal that looked and walked for all the world just like Ced. The resemblance was so strong that I almost lost control of the car for a second, but for just one instant it was a great thrill. Of course, on nearer inspection, it was not anyone nearly so nice as Ced, but then, you’ll say, and I’d have to admit, I’m prejudiced.
Dick, bless his heart, is getting along splendidly. He writes that Uncle Sam seems well enough pleased with what he has been doing to award him two noncom stripes and a T.
I may be wrong but it seems that Dick got this recognition in shorter order in either of my other corporals. Dick has charge of the morning reports and the sick book which, along with the calisthenics, has enabled him to maintain a sound body and mind? (the “?” is his). When they get properly organized he expects to be clerk in the investigations branch of their outfit which will give him a good background for enrollment in the intelligence. O. C. S. Oh well, I’m sure he passed because he was always intelligent. As the washerwoman said of her son, who took the civil service examination, he was sure to pass because he was never rude to anybody. Dick says soon they expect to be transferred to a staging area (whatever that is) to which he is looking forward with relish. No news as to when Jean returns.
Dan tersely describes the training period of three days duration as consisting primarily of picking up cigarette butts between rain showers in preparation for the arrival of the colonel. He hopes to be able to get home again for a visit sometime next month. Somehow spring (and the bushes are now really putting out little green leaves, and we had daffodils on the table from our own yard today), spring, I say, really hasn’t officially arrived until Dan’s handiwork is visible in garden and grounds that you all know so well and that has taken on, I suppose, a certain mantel of extra attractiveness on account of its being so far away from most of you right now.
Ced has let his imagination have a free rein and publishes for us, this time, a newspaper of which he is a reporter and editor. His first item concerns Rusty
who is all excited over arrangements which have just been completed for him to accompany Gov. Gruening of Alaska on a far North journey into the territory covering a period of three weeks in which he expects to accumulate material to serve as a basis for paintings. He speaks of the possibility of an upcoming ski trip. Incidentally, the season must be quite advanced up there because, while the envelope was postmarked April 16, Ced’s letter is dated May 15.
Now that Grandpa has brought us up to date on his three sons in Alaska, he will continue with more news of family and friends tomorrow.