Trumbull, Conn., December 14, 1941
So they all up and left you, heh! It is interesting to speculate on one’s reactions under the circumstances. See how near I come imagining the various phases one goes through. In some ways you and I are temperamentally more alike than the others so perhaps a little introspection on the way I think I might feel may come within shooting distance of the way you may react. Perhaps the first reaction after the bustle and tenseness of seeing the last brother off would be a sense of relief and a feeling that now you can do whatever you want whenever you want in your own way without feeling that anyone else’s feelings have to be regarded. This might last for a week or maybe a little longer, after which it might seem a bit cheerless coming home to an empty room with no one to know or care or exchange small talk with. This will either induce you to seek other friends or outside recreation unless you are too busy with work or other individual activities to do much more than sleep when you get in. Anyway, as it will be your first experience of the kind it will be interesting to note your own reactions. In time, like everything else, you will get used to it, unless the war situation hastens your induction into service and then of course you will be too busy with that to have time to plan your own activities. By the way, did the Jap attack make you feel any different about getting into the service to defend our own country? Short as the time has been I sense quite a change in the feeling of many who up to last Sunday were opposed to giving up their time to what they considered was sort of wasted in training for something that did not look as though it would be needed. Even Dan, just today, said he did not feel the same as he did before, now that there was actually something tangible to prepare against, although he did still believe the necessity would never have arisen if we had tended strictly to our own business and not try to run other nations on our own ideas of morality. As no letter came from you last week I don’t know your reaction to Dick’s leaving nor the effect on your feelings or that of Anchorage folks in general on the rising Sun’s hot ray that scorched Pearl Harbor without warning a week ago today.
Such as it is, I got off a Christmas box to you last night. I am disappointed in it and I fear that you will be also. In fact so much uncertainty has attended your future doings and there has been such poor mail service in hearing promptly from you that things did not go as they normally would. Even the headlight I ordered sent to you from Sears Roebuck in Seattle was delivered to me from that city and had to be reshipped to Anchorage. I also mailed your watch which Dan brought back to be repaired, but I have much doubt as to whether any of these things will reach you by the 25th.
Have heard no word from Dick and I am wondering if war conditions will make any difference in the boat’s scheduled time of arrival and whether after he reaches Seattle transportation or blackouts or other circumstances attendant on the outbreak of war on the Pacific coast will necessitate any radical change of plans on his part and whether he will be able to get home by Christmas.
Tonight Dan is giving a talk on Alaska illustrated with colored views before some young people’s society of the Stratford Congregational Church. Barbara and Dave went along also, and possibly Lad and Babe.
Page 2 of this letter tomorrow, and on Friday, another letter to Ced from Grandpa.
On Saturday and Sunday, Mary E Wilson writes about the move to Trumbull and another daughter.