Early Years – Memories of Cedric Duryee Guion (1) – 1917 – 1922

After my Uncle Dan (Daniel Beck Guion) passed away in 1997, I realized that first-hand accounts of this particular “Slice of Life” would only continue to diminish over time. I needed to record the memories of my Aunt Biss and her brothers and share them with the family. This culminated in the idea of a Blog so that I could share these memories with anyone who would be interested in the personal histories of some members of The Greatest Generation.

Over a period of several years, whenever possible, I recorded the memories of my Dad and his siblings. 

These are the memories of Cedric Duryee Guion, Grandma and Grandpa’s third child and third son.

Cedric Duryee Guion

Cedric Duryee Guion

I don’t remember much about the Larchmont house on Lansdowne Drive. I do remember the milk was delivered by a milkman with a horse and buggy. Lansdowne drive was on the heel and at the bottom was a Creek. One day the horse and wagon went down the hill faster than usual – they went bouncing down the Hill. I don’t remember if the horse went in the broke or not. I was pretty young at the time, about four maybe. I don’t believe my Mother had a single enemy in Trumbull. She was President of the Women’s Community Cub, and she was very, very good to her family.

I don’t believe my Mother had a single enemy in Trumbull. She was President of the Women’s Community Club, and she was very, very good to the family. She had practically all of our aunts and some of our uncles living with us in Trumbull at various times. We had a big house and most of them lived in New York City. When they had vacations and when we had holidays, they’d all come up on the train from New York. Sometimes they would drive – it would take them about four hours on the Post Road. I remember those trips too. Traffic was all over the place, stop and go, stop and go.

I always said that I knew one person in town that my mother didn’t like. I don’t believe that the woman ever knew that my mother didn’t like her because she was… I can’t gossip.. She was very critical of other people and that bothered my Mother.

My Mother was very active in town, she was very public-spirited. She helped plant flowers on the green, that sort of thing.

Our house was the center for the local population. All the kids our age congregated at our house because of everything, and my mother course. She was very pro-social, in her own life and in ours. She was a wonderful woman.

We were really one big happy family and we really had fun growing up. Arnold Gibson was part of the group; he was more a part of the family group. He was very fond of our family, and spent a lot of time with us. Arnold was devoted to my mother, too. Everybody that knew her loved her.

Tomorrow, more of the Early Years with the Memories of Cedric Duryee Guion.

Judy Guion


Trumbull – Dear Lewis and Clark – Dan and Ced have left For Alaska – June 14, 1940

Dan - 1938

Daniel Beck Guion

Ced - 1938

Cedric Duryee Guion

June 14, 1940

Dear Lewis and Clark:

Yesterday was a sizzling hot mid-August day here and if it was as hot on the road you must have thought you were traveling South instead of West. Today however has been an ideal June day – – so much so, in fact, that Dick decided to play hooky from the office and stayed home to carry on Dan’s landscaping work around the home grounds, incidentally giving Mack a bath between whiles.

I can hardly get used to the modest gathering around the supper table. Dave remarked tonight as he was setting the table that he kept finding himself getting out five plates, napkins, etc.

Can either of you throw any light on the mystery of my latest telephone bill, listing two calls to Cambridge on the 20th and 21st of May? I asked Don (Stanley, son of Anne (Peabody), Grandma Arla’s sister) who was here tonight, if you had called him up but he knew nothing about it. It’s all right if the calls were made but I don’t feel like paying the telephone company for calls charged to me in the amount of $.80 or so in error. Tonight’s mail also brought a bill from Mister Whitney for two flexible connectors and fittings totaling $2.50. Here ends the bad news.

Last night I sat down with the map and pencil and paper and tried to figure where you would be, when, and the result is enclosed. I sent you a postal this morning when I stopped at the store for mail, addressing it to New Richmond in the hope that it would reach you there, telling you to stop at the places shown on the slip for any mail I might send. I reasoned that if you got to Cleveland at all Thursday night it would probably be late, and still later before you turned in after chatting with the Draz’s, so that you would not get a very early start Friday. Traveling through big cities like Cleveland and Chicago slow up your rate with the probable result that if you made the 360 miles to Chicago by nightfall you would be doing quite well. If you got an early start Saturday and all went well, you might make the 420 miles to New Richmond and what with talking to the relations, etc., I doubted whether you would get away very early Sunday for the 450 mile trip to Bismarck, even counting on each of you “spelling” the other fellow in driving and possibly doing some night traveling. An average of 400 miles as a steady diet for a week is pretty tiresome as a daily schedule, so if you make Bismarck by Sunday night you will be doing right well. From here on, according to my geography, you will be getting into the mountainous country. From Billings to Butte you will have climbed to the top of the Continental Divide and then too, you may decide to make a side trip to Yellowstone. If not you can keep to your 400 mile a day average and will be in Butte Tuesday night, Spokane Wednesday and Seattle Thursday P.M. I will be interested to see from your return postals how near you will be to keeping the schedule. For your own sake I hope you don’t.

By the way, I wish you would send me the name and address of the mine in Alaska to which you are bound. I suppose I could write to Rusty (Heurlin) and get it, but you probably have it handy and can P.S. it on one of your postals.

Nothing else of moment to report so I shall retire to my sanctum santorum in the hope that Arnold will not violate it before I can don my B.V.D.’s. I hope you will sleep tonight as comfortably as I.

Hasta Luego, Dan, and good night Ced.


Tomorrow  I’ll be posting a letter from Grandpa to Lad, in two parts, and another to Dan and Ced on Friday.

Judy Guion

Life in Alaska – Rusty Heurlin Writes to Ced (2) – April 15, 1944

Rusty Heurlin, taken in Alaska (2)

Rusty Heurlin in Alaska (cropped picture from yesterday’s post)

Hands are about stiff but will warm them up – can hardly see the writing for the storm. Going to be a late break up but I cannot say the exact minute.

Sent Maury some ivory as a starter to see how he makes out on it. If it gets to him this time take a look at it and see what you think. Two of the pieces were damaged in PAA crackup so I got the package back. If you like the seals I can get some for you to sell. Sure you could turn them over at a profit if you stay around long enough. If interested how about you and I going into business? I owe you some money now but hope you will forget it for a time. But here is my idea. Send me what money you can spare – what you can put out and forget and I will put every cent of it into good ivory. Then sell every bit of it at what ever profit you can get and send that money on to buy more. This should build up into a big thing in a very short while, then someday we can or you can take on a store of your own. What do you think will be a fair commission for me, well, should not a 50-50 proposition above cost be agreeable all around? It takes time to locate good stuff and you take time to dispose of it. It is all a matter of making a small sum of money grow – personally I hate business, however, money gained under this set up is an economic necessity today. And we can be dealing in good workmanship. I have come to learn a lot about ivory but have always known good workmanship. I can now buy two large ivory bookends for $38.50 and the Major says they sell in Juneau for $85, perhaps $100 in Anchorage.

Ivory is shipped from here to Seattle and sold to companies in Juneau, then resold to brokerage – bought and sold outside again. A fine set up is this! We can cut out all those middlemen – not be too high priced but keep things moving by selling at fairly good price to the last purchaser. And  your dollars would build up fast. I saw several hundred dollars of it sent to Seattle last week which could have made a nice profit for anyone here with connections in Anchorage to dispose of it there. I have been asked by many people – owners of stores – in Anchorage to write or wire for money when I see something good but why should I take time of my own to help them profit while I lose.

So they didn’t get you in the Army – best of luck to you with your studies. And when you get flying don’t dare nature to ground you. A fine view is stretched out in the rolling plains in back – eight and a  half miles in back of this city. Freddie Mueller, who had walked out of several wrecks said to a few of us a few nights before that no one would be so tough to get him. He, like all the rest, died instantly. Freddie was about 60 years old.

Love to all when you write again, including themselves.


Tomorrow, I will finish off the week with a letter from Grandpa with “a few flotsam and jetsam of news”.

Judy Guion

Life in Alaska – Rusty Heurlin Writes to Ced (1) – April 15, 1944

 Rusty is in Nome, Alaska, with no heat, and his hands are almost stiff. He writes with a business proposition for Ced.

Nome, Alaska

April 15, 1944

Dear Ced,

Your most welcomed letter received yet the news was sorrowful about poor Grandma Peabody’s passing. But it is over for her and now – all the unhappiness she had to bear in losing the ones she loved. But it was wonderful that all her children stayed by her and that must have been consoling to her. I think they expressed in a most civilized action in waiving all customs of the actual departure, aside of the feeling that manufactured words of the preacher gives one – soft spoken and well meant as they may be. No one can intercede for any almighty power – tell one what to do – what to expect – how to go on living, especially when one lives and vibrations have always been on different wavelengths. She understood the silence of brothers and sisters speak finer words in final parting if no interception enters to break the bond. My deepest feelings go out to Dorothy, Helen, Anne, Lawrence, Kemper and Burton for they were her dearest left, as she was theirs.

I am half in furs and half in sleeping bag. It is 15 below outside. Ran out of oil tonight so no heat tomorrow unless I take down the front door and put it in the coal stove.

You wouldn’t like Nome at all – not enough water for you to wash out burnt pans and it takes plenty of water to do that. But I have discovered a trick. Just turn the pan upside down – let all the burnt beans fall out then put same pan back on the stove. Gradually the burnt will all flake off – every bit of it, and it will need no washing for the next batch – we live and learn do we not?

Saw Betty Davis for the first time tonight – picture – “The Little Foxes” ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0033836/ ) at the Dream theater. It should have been named “The Wolf Pack” or “The Great Big Wolves”, anyway she is a truly great actress.

You all did right by my baggage left behind even though I have lost the jib sail bag. Confidentially now – I do not wish it known that the Brown boys took anything of mine from Anchorage to Nome. So if you will kindly contact Lieut. Brooks at Army Transportation and tell him since I was informed by him there would be no plane from Anchorage to Nome for a month or probably two months – his words – that I had changed my plans and had, unbeknownst to you and George, made other arrangements to get all my stuff here. Next month I can write to him but don’t want anything to go down in writing to him as yet and this is confidential between you and me. Why I do not want to wait until then –  it is because some effort should be made to locate the bag before many more days have passed. It says jib sail on the bag and I sure would like to get the clothes that are in it to say nothing of the handy old article. After getting your letter I went right over to the base but evidently it never reached here.

It is too long a story why I do not want to write Sgt. Brooks at this time – another thing, I had a tag on the bag – C HEURLIN – NOME.

Tomorrow, I will post the conclusion of this letter. On Friday, a letter from Grandpa to his sons, scattered all over the world.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Ced – Dan Home and Lad Is a Corporal – August 30, 1942


Trumbull, Conn., August 30, 1942

Dear Ced:

This week I have the privilege of addressing a letter to you alone (carbon copies as usual to brothers two) in acknowledgment of the only mail coming to us last week – – and what a letter it proved to be. Some who read it wondered if softening of the brain had set in, others surmised it must be Rusty’s (Rusty Heurlin, also in Anchorage, a friend of the family and famous painter of Alaskan life) influence that was taking effect and some even went so far as to hazard the belief that you had imbibed too freely of vodka. Me? I just sat back and let them rave, reveling in the fact that at last the ice jam had broken and a raging flood was sweeping all irresistibly before it, including the welcome promise, tucked in between bits in the swiftly flowing stream, that letters from you would once again arrive with more frequency. There is one thing I missed and that was another chapter in your thrilling rescue mission, perhaps with maps and photos, to complete the scrapbook which I have started to encompass the complete Saga of the North. (To Lad and Dan: I won’t go into a description here of Ced’s letter as Dan was home this weekend and read it himself and I expect Lad will probably be home next week to do likewise).

Dan breezed in about 2 A.M. Saturday morning, much to our surprise, as we had not expected him until sometime after noon Sat.. He is now stationed at Lancaster, Pa., so much nearer home that he has prospects of seeing us much more frequently than before – – may even be able to make it next week again, and if Lad is able to do the same, we will have quite a reunion, except for my much missed old Alaskan boy that has so large a place in his Dad’s heart. Nothing would be quite so good as to see him walk into the room here right now, as Rusty did so many years ago when your mother and I sat here in front of the fireplace and later tried to poison ourselves with leaky gas fumes from the furnace.

Lad, when home last week, sported some corporal stripes on his shirtsleeve, and I don’t believe it will be very long before he mounts another step on the ladder.

There is very little in the way of news to report this week. We had a practice blackout in Trumbull the other day – – supposed to be a surprise in that no one knew exactly when it was to happen. There were “bombings” in each section of town, one casualty and a score of wounded, a fire caused by a dropped incendiary bomb, etc., all in the way of practice to get ready for the time when something of the sort might visit us.

Carl (Wayne, a friend) was over the other night with some wild idea of buying the old Waverley, getting batteries for it and fixing it up to run. I told him I would have to take the matter up with all you part owners before I could fix a selling price. Have heard nothing further as to how the Ives are making out at the Mayo clinic. Someone is staying at their house taking care of the dogs, etc. There has been just a suggestion of autumn in the air the last few days. So far I have been sneezing only moderately but there seems to be plenty of ragweed around to remind me that there is such a thing as hay fever. We had dinner early today so that Dan and Barbara (Plumb, Dan’s girlfriend), Dick and Jean (Mortensen, Dick’s future wife)  could go to New York this afternoon in Dick’s car, from where Dan will leave to return to camp.

Glad the watch and tennis balls arrived safely. Let me know what you would like to have me send you for Christmas, so that I can get it off to you early in case they shut down on civilian deliveries.


Tomorrow, another letter from Grandpa, on Thursday, another letter from Lad and  on Friday, short notes from a Round-Robin letter to Ced.

Judy Guion

Friends – A Quick Note from Rusty Heurlin to Ced – April 4, 1944

Rusty Heurlin in Nome. Alaska

April 4, 1944

Dear Ced,

Got a letter today from St. Rau in Anchorage saying bag was never sent from there, so he shipped it on the 25th. He was staying with me here while I was writing you about it – said he would check on it when he got down to Anchorage and so he did. On getting letter I immediately got a pass and started out for the base. A truck driver picked me up – asked where I was going and he was going to the same place. In back of his truck was my bag. He had been trying all over town to locate me. Some coincidence.

Told Rau to look you up while in town. Swell fellow and you will like him. He has three scouts with him – two Eskimos and white soldier Arnold Olsen, “Art” Npicksown and Jacob Stroker from Wainwright and P.T. Hope are the names of the Eskimos. Hope you meet them all as you should. You will get an earful if you do, of something that will interest you.

Well, thanks for trying to locate bag Ced.

Working tonight so must quit now.

Best of luck,


Tomorrow and Friday, a letter from Grandpa, with the added attraction of a quick note from Elsie
Guion, Grandpa’s sister, who is visiting Trumbull for the Easter Weekend.

Judy Guion

Family – Dear Ced – Biss Writes a Short Note – March 31, 1944

Elizabeth (Biss) Guion Zabel

            Elizabeth (Biss) Guion Zabel

Friday afternoon

2:07 P.M.


Dear Ced: —

I am going to do a mean thing to you and write a very short note, as it is well into the PM already and I have touched nothing at all in the house. Besides I have just finished writing five other letters and am beginning to get tired. I wrote Alfred, Aunt Dorothy, (Peabody, Grandma Arla’s youngest sister) ) Uncle Burton, (Peabody, one of Grandma Arla’s brothers) Peg and Viv. Viv was disappointed because she didn’t get to see you while you were home. I am writing mainly to find out how you made out with your deferment and whether or not this new law, of all under 26, will spoil your deferment for you – I hope you will be able to hold off until June and maybe you will be able to keep out altogether.

I got a letter from Aunt Dorothy this morning and she is up and around again – that is what started me on this writing spree. I had been meaning to write her ever since I found out she was laid up. I am beginning to feel like my old self again, thank goodness. Butch is supposed to be in bed with a cold but I think he is out more than in – I have told him to get back to bed so far about 100 times at least. Marty just came in from outside with wet feet and pants so he has to go to bed as soon as he is through  in the bathroom. They’re going to have their pictures taken tomorrow night in their sailor suits. I wish it would get nice and warm out – we have had a couple of warm days so far and it just makes one inpatient for more of them. Marty is calling so I guess I had better close here.



P.S. – My arm is so tired it is stiff and sore – that is my real reason for stopping.

Tomorrow, another letter from Grandpa covering news of  family and friends. 

Judy Guion

Army Life – Letter From Dan to Ced – My Poor Salacious Siwach – August 7, 1942

Dan is in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina, being trained by the Army in survey work and his younger brother, Ced,  remains in Anchorage, Alaska, working at the air base there, repairing and maintaining planes and flying as a Bush Pilot. Before Dan was drafted into the Army, he was also in Anchorage,  living with Ced and working.

DBG - My Poor Salacious Siwach - envelope front, Aug., 1942

Cedric “Frump” Guion

Anchorage, Alaska

DBG - My Poor Salacious Siwach - envelope back - Aug., 1942

The Examination Stamp

DBG - My Poor Salacioius Sewach - Dan to Ced - Aug., 1942

letter written on yellow lined paper in pencil

Dan-uniform (2)

                              Daniel (Dan) Beck Guion


Roanoke Rapids

My Poor Salacious Siwach —

I again take up my pen(cil, sadly) with mounting misgivings, fearful lest the next letter from you, inspired by this one, will divulge some new heinous outrage perpetrated by you (and that handful of masculine harlotry living with you) against the gentle folk of pastoral Alaska.

But when duty calls, it always finds me right “on the ball” (eight) (or should I say “testicles”, to rhyme with “calls”?), Except when it comes to changing my luck – – – – I have decided to stop changing my luck, not because I do not need any better luck, but rather because I have learned, to my consternation, that these blue ball dispensing black belles are better un-bumped, taken from either side.

Kitty and Cortina:

If you or Kay can find any use in Anchorage for those records, or any potential customer (anything over $10), you may return them (or sell them). If they are serving no purpose, you might send them back home before the Japs mistake them for rye crisps and suffer indigestion !

Volly P. –

My best regards, and stick around! I’ll be back after the war if there is any after.

Rusty’s pipe –

The curfew tolls the knell of parting bedbugs. It is cheaper than conventional fumigation, anyhow!

Buick –

You are free to use your own judgment. Cars are actually worth less around here at present, but values will leap when gasoline and rubber become available and  new cars are not yet on the production lines. I suppose Alaska faces a similar situation.

Dad’s allusion about my being sent to Alaska – mostly the old A. D. imagination. I told him that rumors were extant concerning possible moves in the fall to foreign lands – – – – and Alaska was one meager possibility among several others, equally as meager.

My being pleased with the Army –

It’s malicious slander, that’s what it is! I like the place I live in. I like the survey work. I like the men who are on it with me, but my greatest pleasure would be to stand with my legs spread out and my cock in both hands, and piss on everything military, from the whistle at reveille until the whistle at “recall”, wetting down particularly the sections relating to discipline and silly military customs.


I have become a part (1/4) of a quartet, during the last week or so, and already have performed for the royal awestruck congregation at the 1st Baptist church, and for the local version of the R.F.A.D. (the vice of the Golden South). Tonight we four shall offer unction to the oafs at some corny revival meeting. It is for this meeting that I must close this letter, for time is bisecting itself with alarming rapidity, and I must away!

Give my regards to everyone, even Rutting Red, the Renegade –



Tomorrow and Sunday, more about “Liquid Heaven”, with Special Pictures and Memories of our Family Island Retreat. 

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Dick – An Anniversary, Travel Woes and Roast Beef – February 13, 1944

Trumbull, Conn.,   February 13, 1944

Dear Dick:

Richard (Dick) Guion

     Richard  Peabody(Dick) Guion

Jean (Mortensen)(Mrs.Richard)Guion                                                                                                                           

Tomorrow for me marks the anniversary of my most highly prized and noteworthy official activity as Justice of the Peace — you won’t have to search far to guess why. (Last year, in early February, Dick received notice from the local Draft Board that he had to report for induction on February 20th, so he and Jean decided to get married before he left. A very hasty plan was put into effect and they were married on February 14th at the Trumbull House with Grandpa, a Justice of the Peace, performing the ceremony. They left for a few nights in New York City, came back to Trumbull and Dick was inducted into the Army.)  While your first year of married life has been spent under conditions as far removed from what newlyweds have a right to normally expect as they could possibly be, there are several aspects in the situation from which you might justly derive considerable satisfaction. As I see it, first, both you and Jean have been darn good sports about the whole thing — no complaining or indulgence in self-pity over your hard luck. Second, you may not realize it now but in later years you will both derive a sense of contentment in the realization that at considerable personal sacrifice, you have done your full duty and played a man’s part in a great worldwide struggle. Third, because of the self-denial you youngsters have faced so resolutely there is apt to be a corresponding compensation and an all the more lasting appreciation of a happy married life when it is all over. So, while on this occasion particularly you both may feel a bit resentful of the circumstances that keep you apart, there is always the dawn of a new tomorrow to look forward to, and one that will glow with more sunshine and comfort because of the present darkness. So be of good cheer. There are better days ahead.

Ced and car - 1940 (2)

Cedric Duryee Guion

For Ced this week has been one of quick changing circumstances. In fact fate has tossed him about in a way that reminds me of those movies you took in Alaska of the natives being tossed up and down in a blanket. Early in the week he received a notice dated February 3rd from the President of the United States, through the Anchorage draft board, ending his long period of uncertainty by ordering him to report for his physical examination on February 13th. On Friday, however, a telegram dated February 10th  arrived from A.G. Woodley, as follows: “Board has approved appeal. Suggest you return immediately to work as they cannot reclassify unless you are actively engaged in  essential work. Have a good trip. Regards from all.” So yesterday he hurried to New York to make reservations for his return journey. Up to this writing (6:30 P.M.) he has not returned so I cannot at this time give you more definite news as to his departure. Unless his present return routing by way of Texarkana is changed, it is quite possible he will be able to stop off to visit the new Texas branch of the family en route.

We have our upsets in civilian life too. By virtue of the fact that this was to be Ced’s last Sunday in the bosom of his family and Dave also expected to be home for possibly the last time before leaving for some unknown camp to undergo his basic training, I figured a reckless expenditure of ration points was warranted, so I blew in 50 Brown points on a piece of prime roast beef, done to a turn in the famous Guion manner, only to find that Ced evidently succumbed to the lure of the big city and a big snowstorm or other unknown cause has kept our little Dave for making his expected trip home. So Auntie (Aunt Betty Duryee, Grandpa’s Mother’s sister), daughter Jean (Dick’s wife) and Dad spent a quiet Sunday by themselves.

Dan briefly reports by V-mail that he is happy in a new job which, although temporary, is both interesting and educational, while faithful Marian probably has a letter on the way telling of her arrival. Lad, I take it, is too busy with his new training and getting a new home fixed up for his bride to find time for letters home. (2 pkgs. by express from L.A.)

Aunt Betty has her Accousticon (hearing aid) and is having a bit of a struggle getting used to it. I am waiting for tomorrow to see if a letter from Dave explains his failure to get home.


Tomorrow I will post a letter from Marian writing about her first few days n Texas. I will finish the week with another epistle from Grandpa to the Ex-Trumbullites (and Marian).

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Dave (2) – News About Trumbull – January 16, 1944

This is the second half of a long letter written by Grandpa to his sons and daughters-in-law with news of the family.

In Brazil, actions speak louder than words — anyway they did last week when there arrived addressed to me a most beautiful box of fine Brazilian cigars which I have since been enjoying very much, not only because the cigars themselves are good but because they came from Dick. And when I say “beautiful box” I mean just that. The wood is highly polished, the box well made and is far superior to any packing even the most expensive cigars in the U. S. A. are given. Your gift is truly appreciated, Dick old boy. Incidentally Jean has just received word from Dick that his base has been changed to another location in Brazil. Evidently they spell it Brasil down there.

Cedric Duryee Guion

And now here’s a newsflash just received from Alaska. Ced had made his reservation and was all ready to leave for Anchorage via Texarkana and South Pasadena, when a telegram from Woodley Airways arrived informing Ced he had been reclassified to 1-A, and advising him to defer his return until Art Woodley (Owner of Woodley Airfield and Ced’s employer) could definitely determine whether another deferment could be procured or Ced would have to be inducted. And that is the status quo of things at the present moment.

And now for local news broadcasts (at this point, Dave, I know you usually tune out, which is your privilege now, but you may under the circumstances stay tuned to this station.)

On invitation from the Lee’s, we all went down to Westport for supper Friday, and as usual, had a very pleasant evening. Ced showed some of the Alaskan slides and movies which they enjoyed. Incidentally, Dan, they have relatives living in London whom they thought you might like to visit – Arthur Toft, 40 Chaucer Rd., Herne Hill, London S.E24.

In today’s paper, Barbara’s (Plumb, Dan’s girlfriend) picture appears in the uniform of a WAAC with news that she has received an assignment to serve overseas.

Smoky has been under the weather for the last few days — either he has been

page 4 (oy, what a letter writer I am tonight)                                                    1/16/1944

grieving over your absence, or in your affectionate adieu,  you may have put ground glass in his Ken-L-Ration. However, he is improving as evidenced by the lowering temperature of his nose.

I’m getting to be a regular old rake — married three women this week — all divorced, too — on the 10th, 12th and 15th  respectively. Grandpa, as the Justice of the Peace, has the honor of performing marriage ceremonies.)

You older boys will be interested to know that in answer to one of my Christmas cards sent to Corrine Flaniken, I received a rather rambling letter from her enclosed in a letter from her sister in Arlington, Texas, stating that Corinne is in a psychopathic Hospital in Colorado Springs. Normal life is much too confusing for her as the slightest responsibility upsets her until she is almost frantic. A letter or card from any of you to her would probably be much appreciated. Address Route 1, Box 47, Colorado Springs, Colo.

And last, a letter from Aunt Anne ((Peabody) Stanley), thanking us for the flowers I sent Grandma, which evidently she appreciated very much. Grandma continues comfortable, and while she sleeps a good deal of the time, she is bright and cheerful when awake. She enjoyed seeing us when we visited her.

Donald, (Stanley,  Anne (Peabody) Stanley’s son), she wrote, is in New York and will be for several more days. Gweneth came down from Vermont and they all spent the weekend together. Don looks fine and is still enjoying the sea. (Donald, only a few years older than Dave, in in the Navy.)

And that, dear children, is about all from your Uncle Don this evening, except Dave, I think there is a present for you under the barrack cot, a big juicy paddle that the first Sgt. will be glad to hand you with much verve and spirit if you don’t watch out. And don’t try to make friends with the bugler because he’ll blow reveille just as quick for you as he will for the rest of the boys.

Remember, there is a brand-new folder in the file with your name on it, and the first insertion should be an essay on Army life from a rookies standpoint. I’m sure Dan and Lad and Dick would enjoy reading it and comparing the memory of their experiences with yours.

A glance at my watch tells me this is been one of those regular three hour broadcasts and undoubtedly others are waiting to get on the air: who knows, even Franklin may be waiting to deliver another fireside chat to “my friends”. Anyway, I’m signing off. This is station ADG, 7 on your dial. (A reference to the mailing address, PO Box 7, Trumbull)


Tomorrow and Sunday, more of Elizabeth’s St. Petersburg (Florida) Adventure.

Judy Guion