This is the final section of a letter written by my Grandfather to his oldest son, Lad (my Dad), who is working in the oil fields of Venezuela and sending money home to help with raising the younger siblings, a responsibility he took quite seriously.
Alfred Duryee Guion (Grandpa)
It has been raining steadily all day long today, not hard but in a dismally persistent manner. Ced has had a nibble on the sale of his car but nothing definite yet. He plans to put the proceeds into a Crossley or Willys or some light car, economical to operate. He figures that if he finally decides to go to Alaska in June it will be a means of getting him across the continent cheaply and on arrival at Seattle, he may be able to sell it for is much as he paid for it here or possibly, if the freight rate is not too great, may take it to Alaska with him.
Enclosed you will find a letter from Rusty that he wrote last week but gave to me too late to go in last week’s letter. I am also enclosing some snapshots that Dan took for your benefit. I hope they don’t make you feel too homesick. And speaking about photos, you remember you commented on the fact that Dan was getting to be quite a good-looking lad. Well the other night the Chandler Choral Society gave a concert in the school to help toward financing the athletic activities in the schools. Dan stood in the back row so that I could just see a portion of his face — a side view — and once or twice I was really startled at the resemblance to you. I could have sworn a couple of times it actually was you there instead of Dan. Isn’t that a nice little complement to you in the light of your letter. I asked Rusty if he thought Dan looked like you and he said, “definitely, yes”.
The check arrived on schedule, and I figure next month’s check will practically take care of the payments for the Fairbanks Morse stock. The following month will take care of your annual premium and then we will be looking around for some other form of investment.
No letter from you last week which makes it the more of a certainty that tomorrow will bring another Venezuelan billet doux. It is queer the photographs you sent have not yet arrived, although it may be that I am mistaken that you did actually send some by regular mail as you spoke of doing and that you are still waiting for them to be developed and printed and delivered from Caracas.
Since Rusty has come, we have revived the old anagram game and because the green on the raised letters was pretty badly worn off, we got busy with his paints the other night and gave them a good face lifting which makes them look like a new set. They are being used right now by the bunch who are all playing in Biss’s is apartment with the baby (Butch) looking on as referee. I should think that would be a good game for you to play down there at the camp.
Barbara (Plumb, Dan’s girlfriend) just came in and I asked her if she knew any news to write you. She said that Carl and a fellow named Eb Joy had left last Saturday in the latter’s car and trailer for a trip to Florida. They intended to stop in Jersey, of course, on the way. They arrived at Miami either Monday or Tuesday of this week, and from there they will be going to Sarasota. One of the main objects of the trip was fishing. They are expected to be gone about two weeks.
That about exhausts all the news that has accumulated during the past week that has come to my attention and that seems important enough to write about.
Mack sends a couple of snorts and of course all here want to send their love, including your one and only
On Saturday and Sunday, I will share the concluding post’s to Ced’s Amazing Adventure. I hope you have enjoyed this glimpse of a Slice of Life, a hitchhiking adventure for a seventeen year old, way back in 1934., Please post a comment and let me know what you thought or what you liked the most.