Trumbull – Dear Lad of the Llanos (1) – A Trip to Visit the Chandlers – January 1, 1940

This week I will begin posting letters from a New Year – 1940. Lad is working in Venezuela for the Socony-Vacuum Oil Company. Dan, Ced, Dick and Dave are all at home. Dick and Dave are still in school.

Lad Guion and Jim Pierce at Karnopp's Camp - 1939

                                 Jim Pierce and Lad Guion  at Karnopp’s  Camp in Venezuela

Trumbull, Conn.

January 1, 1940

Dear Lad of the Llanos:

No matter how closely you scrutinize you will find no evidence of erasure’s on the 1940 above. You didn’t catch me even though this was the first time. I am surprised at your negligence, however. How guilty you must feel, we haven’t had a letter from you since last year, and here we are well into 1940. Incidentally, I do hope there is a letter from you waiting for me in Box 7, because as I wrote you, we didn’t hear from you at all the week before, and up to Friday, no letter had reached us from you last week. I say Friday because on that day we left Trumbull for a trip to Maryland, so we missed the Saturday mail, this being the day of last hope when the usual Tuesday post fails to produce the weekly red white and blue bordered envelope.

Not much of moment has occurred this week to make history in the annals of the Guion family. Wednesday evening Anne (Peabody) Stanley, sister of Arla Mary (Peabody) Guion, Grandpa’s wife who passed away in June of 1933) called up from New Rochelle saying that she and the two children and perhaps Dorothy (Peabody, the youngest sister) expected to be up early Thursday afternoon and would stay all night, leaving early Friday, which I assured her would be perfectly okay and that we all expected to leave for a visit to the Chandlers ourselves at that time. So, up they came as arranged. I prepared a dish of Italian spaghetti for supper which they were good enough to praise highly. They did not however stay overnight and the final arrangement was that they take David back with them to New Rochelle which he preferred to the trip to Maryland. That is where he is now although I expect him home sometime today, as he has to go back to school tomorrow.

Ced - 1938

Cedric Duryee Guion

Now for the trip to Maryland. After Ced had telegraphed them how many of us were coming and receiving their reply that it was okay, I learned through Carl at the gas station that Shaddick and his family were also intending to go down to pay Chandlers a visit, also on Friday. This had me worried for a bit (we afterward learned that Doug was afraid if he told either party the other was coming one of us might decide to stay home and they wanted us both) but we finally decided they knew what they were doing, so we started in the Willys at about 9:30 Friday morning and arrived at the Chandlers about 6:30 PM without any incident worthy of mention except that the further south we got the more snow we found. The Merritt Parkway was entirely clear with very little snow even on the neighboring landscape, but Jersey was slippery, Pennsylvania worse and Maryland quite bad. The Chandler’s place at Westminster is only about 50 miles across the Pennsylvania border in rolling country strongly suggestive of the Connecticut hills and dales.

ADG - Chandler

A visit to the Chandlers. Grandpa is in the first row, all the way to the left. Ced and Dick are the first two in the back row, all the way to the left. A guess would be that Dan is the photographer.

Doug is comfortably housed in a bigger place than he had either here or in the Solomons, on rather high ground near the College of Maryland where he teaches in the theological seminary. We spent a quiet but pleasant time, the three boys, Dan, Ced and Dick, sleeping in the college dormitory. We left Sunday morning at about 9:30 just as Doug and Mr. Shaddick also left to go to a church about 60 miles distant at Harpers Ferry where Doug was to preach. He is a gentle, kindly soul, his wife having much more  vim and go about her. In her capacity for keeping on the go, taking things in their stride and never getting ruffled no matter how many things pile up, she reminds me of your mother before her stomach first went back on her. On the way down we crossed into Jersey via the Holland Tunnel but on the return trip we came across the Fort Lee ferry. That, with the tolls on the Merritt Parkway, the Hutchinson River Pkwy., Holland Tunnel and toll bridge across the Susquehanna, the tolls cost more than the gasoline for the trip.

Tomorrow I will post the second half of this letter with news of ringing in the New Year and local news of friends in Trumbull.

Judy Guion

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