Trumbull – Dear Ced – Letters Are The Last Strong Link – February 7, 1943


Cedric Duryee Guion

Trumbull, Conn., Feb. 7, 1943

Dear Ced:

To you, my son, this week’s letter is dedicated, being the only one of my absent boys from whom I have heard recently. I didn’t even have anyone representing the silent ones in the spirit of the modern song acted as Myles Standish’s John Alden — “I just came here to speak for Joe”. Dan, with his gifted pen, is incommunicado and Lad, who has been right faithful, is also ominously silent. Letters are the last strong link with home for those who are far afield, so look with a bit of compassion on we who remain behind and ask to be continually assured against the world’s ominous background, that all is still well with you. I suppose harping on this same theme is a bit wearisome. I think it was Oscar Wilde who once wrote: “Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them.”

Shutting the hot water off entirely and turning on the cold shower full is about the way I felt yesterday when I saw through the glass in the mailbox the sensor sealed end of a letter which could only mean mail from Alaska, reaching for it with eager fingers and finding it addressed to Elizabeth. For your address book, Ced, the entry is 142 Cornwall St., Stratford. As Dave goes over there every Tuesday night (Elizabeth’s bowling night) to act as nursemaid (gas rationing has caused her to cut out her visits to Trumbull) he will see that she gets it at that time, (or was it to Zeke?). Anyway, it took a long time coming. Mailed Jan. 16th it reached Trumbull February 6th, whereas your airmail letter mailed January 25th reached here February 1st. Thanks for the money order. The insurance premium has already been taken care of.

I was awfully sorry to hear about Don Glass. Was there anything about the plane engine that you could, in any way, no matter how remote, have felt responsible for or was it’s failure something that no one could have foreseen or guarded against? Does that mean, and I ask the question with fear and trembling, that with Art’s need for another pilot when he and the other one are not available, will you be encouraged to qualify for a flying pilot’s license? Are ships like the one lost usually insured or is the premium so high an owner takes a chance? Are planes available for purchase even if you have the price? I mean by that, will the Government allow passenger ships to be made anymore for sale to private airways?

The blow-by-blow description of your adventures getting to work is one of the most interesting letters in a long time. Details of this sort always add color to even an ordinary event. That is why your account of your rescue mission was so good. I wish you would finish it before the details grow dim in your memory. Whatever became of the preparation I sent you it to apply to the windshield of a car to prevent it’s fowling in bad weather? Didn’t it work? Would you like me to see if I can find some more?

I am glad you are going to move in with Rusty (Rusty Huerlin, a family friend and artist of Alaskan life) and George. It will be more comfortable. My best to Rusty, and lots of love as always from all of us here, particularly Aunt Betty and your


During the rest of the week, I’ll post three letters from Grandpa and one from Lad on Friday. The letter I’ll be posting tomorrow contains quite a surprise.

Judy Guion


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