COMMUNICATION CENTER 42928
DFR TR C/O POB-7
6 August 1944
From the ex-mayor of Trumbull:
Copy of communication
Addressed to “Lizzie of the Klondike, Igloo?”
From C.D. Guion, Alaska.
“I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am in you for not packing up and running on up here. Why, the weather is so nice here that it is only on the rarest of occasions that I am prevented from basking in the sun all day long. The temperature stays at a comfortable 15° above zero all summer long, and only slightly cooler than that in winter, which is only nine months long anyway. I do hope you will reconsider immediately, and if you feel you don’t want to cook or drive taxis, I’m sure you would enjoy mining or fishing, and the pay for either is excellent. You could work at fishing for just the short three-months season and live on your earnings for the balance of the year. If you chose to mine you could probably get a job “mucking” (digging out the ore) on the graveyard shift and have the whole day to run around the country and hunt bear or go sightseeing to your heart’s content. You could probably grab a couple of cat naps on the job when the boss was away and so not get too tired. As an added inducement you might always remember that a gal up here has every opportunity to go out with nice fellows to dances, nightclubs, etc., and then you might even find the man of your dreams! Who knows? There was a woman up here (Rusty Dow) whom I have mentioned as a friend of mine in a previous letter, who just recently drove a 10 wheel truck over the new Alaskan Military Highway with a full load. (Query by editor – the girl or the truck?) She reports the road as good, and if you can disguise yourself as a service man you might be able to get onto the road which is closed to civilians. Perhaps Dad would let you take the Chevy which seems to be idle since Lad and Marian and Dave are again away from home. I am sure you could get gas enough by buying at black market stations, although you would have to pay a little extra. I’d advise bringing along a few spare tires as you might have to make repairs along the way. Extra supplies of gas would also probably be necessary. A good sleeping bag and some grub, a rifle and axe will complete your gear, and I’ll buy you a barrel of rum when you get here. Another advantage to this country is that women are more likely to smoke pipes and cigars here than back in the East, and your Between The Acts cigars would entail less embarrassment than back there. Another thought just occurred to me. You are there near the Sikorsky airplane plant. Why don’t you see Mr. Sikorsky and get the Alaskan franchise distribution ship for the helicopter and then fly one up here yourself. That might be more exciting then the Chevy. Of course all this is just a suggestion, and you could do what ever you like, even trying a rocket or jet propulsion. There is good future in trapping, as in almost any other occupation you desire to try. The sky’s the limit, but if you just want to stay in that dreadful old stuffy East where they have those horrid toilets inside the house and messy faucets and sinks that can’t be put outside when not in use – well, then I’m sorry for you, and don’t ever say you didn’t have the opportunity. “There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood leads on to fortune”. And don’t turn your deaf ear at me! How is be Acousticon working? What a pleasant glowey feeling it gave me to open up my little box # 822 just before my birthday a month or so ago the find of good old “Aunt Betty” card and the famous old portrait of a President. Should have acknowledged your thoughtfulness long ago, but I am much a dreadful correspondent, as you well know.
Did I ever tell you the story of the three divinity students at Yale, a Protestant, a Catholic and a Jew, who were comparing how far each might eventually get in their chosen professions. The Protestant said he could start as a curate, become rector of the large parish, advanced to Archdeacon and eventually become Bishop. The Catholic snorted and said in his church after being a priest, a Monsignor. and a Cardinal, and in turn he might eventually become a Pope, which is right next to God himself, and what could be higher than that! The Jew shrugged his shoulders and said, “Well, one of our boys made it”.
This is only the first quarter of this five-page letter from Grandpa to his boys in Alaska. This particular portion is a letter from Ced to Aunt Betty giving her numerous possibilities for jobs if she were to move to Alaska.
On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I’ll post the other three parts of this letter.
On Friday, I will post a letter from Marian.