This is the final portion of the weekly letter Grandpa has written to Lad, working in Venezuela.
Alfred Duryee Guion (Grandpa)
Page 3 of R-60
Your account of the Venezuelan method of army conscription is one of the most interesting, ridiculous and altogether impossible and unbelievable things I have heard. It takes its place along with your account of the hotel accommodations in Caracas, the bug storm and the condition of roads as my own private collection of “believe it or not’s”. There are certainly some queer things and people in the world and you have to get off the beaten path and live among strange people for a while before you have the opportunity to really experience the things that, if you read about in a book, you would say were due to the author’s fertile imagination.
Your remarks about the pilot not being able to communicate with anyone for help in case of a forced landing, together with things you have written from time to time regarding being stuck out in the wilds with a flat tire and no spares and others being stranded miles from anywhere, where it involves several days delay to get straightened out, with the consequent expense when drilling operations are held up, brings up something I’ve been thinking about to ask you. It is this. Isn’t there some inexpensive shortwave installation that is commercially possible to install on trucks and planes so that two-way communication can be maintained between camp headquarters and trucks on the road so that in case of breakdowns the word can be got back quickly, much as an S.O.S. on board ship is used. The police cars in various cities have such arrangements but whether the excessive expense or some practical difficulty would prevent an installation of this sort, I of course am unable to say, but unless you know it is and all wet idea it might be a suggestion you could make to Mr. Starr that would, if it did nothing else, show him you are interested in the good of the camp.
In another week or so I will be eagerly looking for that collection of photos that you are sending by regular mail. I hope you have dated them and put captions on the back.
Continued cold, but clear withall, has been the order of the days for about two weeks steady now, but the weatherman at last promises higher temperatures for next week. Both Dave and Dick have colds but seem to be getting them under control. Dan is home again and intends to go to New York soon to see what he can stir up. No further word has reached him regarding the Engineering Society’s offer regarding the Venezuelan job. Elizabeth’s baby is getting cuter daily. He smiles and gurgles in a carefree way and seems to be enjoying life. He brings back memories of my own babies, as far back as 27 years ago. (Lad, Grandpa’s oldest child, was born 27 years ago. In April, it will be 28 years.)
I finally received a reply from the S. V. N. Y. (Socony-Vacuum Oil Company New York) office signed by a Mr. Boynton, Supervisor of Employment, stating that they had checked with the Producing Dept., and learned what I have of course since learned, that you were in good health and that they have learned of no delay in receipt of mail from Pariaguan. “Foolish pa”, I can hear you say.
Well, that’s about all I can think of to say, and as Jack Benny is on in a few minutes and I want to hear the same program that you may be listening to at the same time (this seems some way to bring you a bit nearer) I will call it quits. Here is a letter from Dave, which hasn’t much news but is enclosed anyway.
Tomorrow I will post Dave’s letters to Lad and on Friday, a letter from Grandmother Peabody to Lad.