Trumbull – Dear Sons (1) – News From Aunt Elsie And A Birthday Party For Two – August 20, 1942

Elsie May Guion, summer, 1946

Aunt Elsie, Grandpa’s sister

Trumbull, Conn., August 23, 1942

Dear Sons:

It gives me great pleasure to lead off this evening with a broadcast from our guest artist, Miss Elsie M. Guion, who had, this day, had the honor of entertaining in connection with a joint (cut out those remarks about “some joint”, etc.) celebration of birthdays.

Miss Guion:

Thank you, Mr. Guion, and how do you do, Sons o’ Guns. We, the celebrants, have had a great day, and speaking for myself, I am enjoying a rare Sunday both from the standpoint of a workless Sunday and also a Sunday at Trumbull. I’ll not dwell on the birthday, because, oh well, I’ve had too many of them, although they’ve always been swell. Today’s brought an odd assortment of gifts, but I asked for it. Some luscious big ripe tomatoes such as we don’t get in the big city, a loaf of unmatchable Soderholm’s Swedish rye bread. The rest I didn’t order: A bottle of delectable domestic Port Wine, a box of all American licorice candy and some coconut cupcakes. Aunt Betty’s gift was a birthday card with an appropriate message and a dollar bill tucked almost out of sight – but I found right soon. I’m quick that way.

Dan, I’m responsible for the Cookie Wookies. I hope it didn’t taste as wacky as it sounds but I didn’t have a chance to sample it. It’s a poor substitute for letters and my resolutions to write even a postal that never materialized. I’m slow that way.

ADG - Elsie's Shop Christmas Flyer - cover, 1941

Christmas Brochure for the Accessory Shop, Inc.

          The Shop (inside Grand Central Station) goes on – for better for worse. The Station seems to be filled most of the time now that automobiles are not used so much. Constantly, uniforms, singly and in bunches, pass through. Yesterday seemed busier than usual. But you should see the Station and also any part of New Your City in a Blackout. Any city street, utterly black, is a most interesting “site”. The Waiting Room in the station has to go completely black because it has windows high up that evidently can’t be blacked out.

Now I’m done except to send an affectionate hello to Ced, and to wish that, like the rest of us here, that we could grasp his hand and say “It’s great to see you again.” So long.

Thank you, Miss Guion. You refer to a “rare” Sunday. Now, that’s too bad. I did so try to have it “well done”. But then, as in most meals, one gets his just desserts. Dick (who was also celebrating a birthday), shy, modest and retiring as usual, “can’t think of anything to say”, so he is passing up this golden opportunity to hurl a few verbal bombshells at his absent brothers.

We had eleven round the festive board. Starting at my right and making the circle were: Lad (home for the weekend from Aberdeen, Maryland), Elsie (Guion, Grandpa’s sister), Aunt Betty (Duryee, Grandpa’s Aunt), Elizabeth (Grandma and Grandpa’s only daughter, known as Bissie to friends and family), the two grandsons (Butch and Marty Zabel) (spasmodically), Dave, Zeke (Raymond Zabel, Bissie’s husband) , Dick, Jean (Mortensen, Dick’s future wife) and yours truly. The vegetables were fresh from Mr. Laufer’s (a neighbor across the street) garden and consisted of lima beans, raw tomatoes and sweetcorn. The two chickens were also native Trumbull products. Katherine (Warden, who has rented the apartment with her husband, Paul, who is also in the Armed Services, and their two children, Skipper and Susan) made the cake from Guion ingredients and it was right good. Naturally, as on all similar occasions, we missed Alaska (Ced) and North Carolina (Dan).

A hard shower sprang up before the meal was over which gave the lie to the sunshine with which the day had started. Lad is out calling but will be back before long and he and Aunt Elsie will entrain together for New York later this evening.

Tomorrow, the rest of this letter from Grandpa to his absent sons.

Judy Guion

Army Life – Dear Dad, Aunt Betty, Dave, Dick, etc. – Lad Is Now An Acting Corporal – August 16, 1942

APG - APG at D_____ ______ a_____, 25 June, 1945

Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad)

APG - Lad to Grandpa - Acting Corporal - Aug., 1942

Aug. 16, ‘42

Dear Dad, Aunt Betty, Dave, Dick, etc.: –

I am now  Acting Corporal, so address my letters as such in the future. It happened this way. Yesterday, being Saturday, we had our usual review and inspection. That was finished about 11:00 A.M. and we were told to turn in our equipment as soon as possible and have our bags ready for transferring at 1:00 P.M. (1300 o’clock). At 1300, we fell out and were assigned to various of the Technical or Basic camps or Battalions. I was assigned to Co. C., 2nd Battalion. I got there with my duffel about 1400. It was only about five or six blocks so I made two trips. I reported to the 1st Sergeant and was assigned to the 4th Platoon and he told me to get my corporal stripes. So that is how it is. Since I arrived here after 1200 on Sat., the Co. clerk had left and I could not have a new pass made out, so I can’t leave the post until Monday, anyway, when the clerk will be able to type one for me. As to next weekend, I can’t say definitely as yet. I’ll try to let you know by Sat.

My car registration is in the little pocket below the dashboard at the right of the front seat. If those ration books are definitely marked as to when or what date each coupon is good for, will you please use the coupon yourself or put the gasoline in my car?

We have had rain every day this week and I don’t think this afternoon will be an exception. My love to all –

Lad

Tomorrow and Friday, a letter from Grandpa to his sons away from home.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Truants – Dick and Dave Go Camping – August 16, 1942

Aunt Betty (Lizzie Duryee), summer, 1946

Aunt Betty Duryee, Grandpa’s Aunt

Trumbull, Conn., August 16, 1942

Dear Truants:

It was two hours ago at least that I wrote the first line above, which will give you some indication of the amount of energy, vim, pep or whatever you choose to call it, which animates me this afternoon. Perhaps the cause lies in the fact that my digestive apparatus has been kinking up again, perhaps in the fact that this week we have had at least eight days of rain (and some figure nine); or it may be that not a single word this week has come from any of my children who are at present playing hooky from the old home. I saw Lad last week, had a longer letter than usual from Dan last week, but nothing from what was once my dependable old Ced. What with the lapse of time and distance his ardor must be cooling. We used to try to write once a week, but now we’re lucky if we hear once a month. Oh well, perhaps I’m a bit unreasonable about wanting to know what’s happening to my furthest away boy.

After the rain stopped for a bit yesterday morning, Dick and Dave decided to do a bit of adventuring in the great outdoors, so they loaded their sleeping bags in Dick’s car and started for Candlewood Lake. They had supper in a nearby roadhouse, found a suitable camping spot on the shore, but while it did not rain during the night, it was so hot and muggy that the bags were too hot to sleep in and when they emerged the mosquitoes drove them inside again, and in consequence, they arrived back here, sleepy, early this morning and had a few hours sleep, a light dinner, which Aunt Betty prepared for them, I feeling too lazy and miserable to bother with food, after which they started off for the movies. This afternoon it has rained as hard as I have ever seen it rain here in a long time.

It was Jane Mantle’s birthday yesterday and she and Barbara (Plumb, Dan’s girlfriend), I understand, had supper with the Warden’s. Possibly we will have a celebration of our own next week – – certainly will if Dan and Lad and Elsie are all able to be present. I don’t really expect all that but it is fun to dream visions anyway.

Well, here it is the middle of August. Before very long I will start my regular sneezing bouts followed by first frost and the end of summer. Fortunately I now have almost a winters supply of coal in the cellar bin. In further preparation I ought to cement up cracks around the cellar windows where new sashes were put in and I also think it would be a good idea to encourage the storm windows with some judiciously installed weather stripping around doors and north windows. That may come after I have finished paying for the coal and cleaning the sewer line.

There is not much news I can relate. Danny Wheeler is now in the Army with the Ferrying Command, I hear. Trumbull shortly will have a test blackout which will duplicate as near as possible the real thing with imaginary incendiary fires, citizens injured, etc. The time is to remain a secret.

As I wrote you, Lad, L.K. Sieck, 228 Gray, Ames, Iowa, wrote a note and asked for your address, saying he had worked with you in Venezuela, having received my address from Charley Hall. He wrote on August 7th he was leaving college within a couple of weeks and hoped I would reply promptly. I did.

DAD

Tomorrow, another letter from Lad to Grandpa, and on Thursday and Friday, another letter from Grandpa to his boys away from home.

Judy Guion

Army Life – Dear Dad – Lad Learns To Drive A Tank – August 12, 1942

Dan went into the Army in January of 1942 and Lad went in on May 15th, five months later. They are both receiving additional training beyond Basic. Dan is in North Carolina and Lad is at Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Aberdeen, Maryland. Ced is still in Anchorage, Alaska, maintaining airplanes for Woodley Airways. http://www.sitnews.us/Kiffer/PacificNorthernAirlines/091317_PNA.html

Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad)

Aug. 12, 1942

Dear Dad: –

Got back to Aberdeen with no mishaps except that I had to walk from the station to Camp. There were so many men desiring to get into Camp that I thought it advisable to rely on me instead of taxis and I’m glad I did. Some of the fellows didn’t get back here until after 5:30, A. M.

Monday passed as usual, but yesterday, after supper, I went back to the shops and applied for extra training. So last night I learned to drive a light tank. Sometime in the future I’ll be given instruction in operating a medium tank and also, half-track vehicles, very heavy wreckers, and tractors. I will be given a license to drive whatever of these vehicles I proved to be successful in operating, which is a start in obtaining a license for the operation of all Army vehicles.

A tank is a cross between a car and a tractor in its operation. The clutch and throttle, as in a car are foot operated. In a tractor they are both hand operated as well as the steering. Steering a tank is done, as in the tractor, by hand brake levers. They ride quite well, and only on the real big holes or ditches, do they bump or rock badly. I really enjoyed it.

Lad

Tomorrow, a letter from Grandpa to the Truants, on Wednesday, another letter from Lad and on Thursday and Friday, another letter from Grandpa telling the boys of the latest happenings in Trumbull.

Judy Guion

Friends (3) – Dear Danny – A Long Letter From Fred Chion About Interamerica, Inc. – May, 1940

This is the last page of a letter written by Fred Chion, a friend and co-worker of Dan’s, in Venezuela. He fills Dan in on some of the happening of Interamerica, Inc., after Dan left to return to Trumbull.

Dan, with co-workers, in the field surveying for Interamerica, Inc. in Venezuela

Now comes the payoff or “the boomerang strikes back”.  Max had given to Dick during a trip that he took to the states last December, a letter which stated that Mr. Richard A.  Wiberley (Dick) was the manager of the company and that all actions by him during Mr. Maxudian’s absence from this country was binding and that his decision was final in all matters pertaining to the company.  Using this letter at it’s worth, Dick applied for payment due to the company from the ministry and imagine his surprise when he was handed the money in cash.  He paid all of us off, all that was coming to him and then he sent a cable to Max saying that he had collected the money from the ministry and that we were leaving the company and the house at the end of the month of July.  Boy …. You should have then seen the cable grams from Max arriving fast and furious.  But it was too late.  Another stroke of good fortune was that in order to ensure our money, we had taken all the valuable equipment from the office, intending to hold it until we were paid in full and the very next day, Herrera Oroposa’s lawyer came into the office with a judgment against the company and attached all the office equipment in satisfaction of the debt due to him still from the days of the eminent Explorer RUDOLPH THE GREAT AND ONLY.  Anyhoe, at least we did Max a good turn, unless somebody else now finds the equipment and gets a judgment against it.  Which brings in Bush.  As I have previously said, Bush had left for the states in the earlier part of February because his wife was sick, and Max had faithfully promised him that his money would be safe with him, Max, and that he would send him a check to cover for all his past salary (six months).  During the middle of June, imagine our surprise when who should walk in the office but Bush asking for Max and his pay.  Max had completely forgotten to even inform him that he was in the states, let alone pay him for past services.  Naturally Bush was highly incensed and was ready to tell Max, if he saw him, where to get off.  He wrote to Max in the states but received no reply.  He then hired a lawyer and was ready to take action against the company when just about at that time, Richard pulled the rabbit out of the magician’s hat. Soooo……. Bush was also paid off in full, then we had a dinner to celebrate the event and everyone was happy except, I believe, that Mr. Karnopp will not be so happy.  You see …. Max owes Karnopp about 6 months’ salary and after we had paid off all just and most pressing claims, besides our salaries, there was exactly Bs. 120.30 left.  This is some chapter, hey what ……

Ricci is going home this coming Friday, in the meantime we are trying to form a company to do the surveys because the director of the MOP told Dick and I that under no consideration would another contract be given to Interamerica, Inc., that Mr. Maxudian had caused too much trouble and that he had called the minister of the MOP a thief and whatnot, that they did not again want to deal with such a person and that he was told this about six months ago.  Besides this, there are a few very good possibilities here, so that for the time being, I’m going to spend a little time here to see what develops.  I’ve already turned down a job offered to me by the Compania Nacional de Construction, you know, that American outfit that was in Barquisimeto.  Furthermore, I have an almost sure promise of a job, as does Dick, for a job in Panama with a Californian outfit who is going to do work for the government over there.  This was the company that Max tried to get interested in our work, telling them that he already had the contract for construction but that he did not have the equipment nor the capital and he strung them along for a period of two months before they finally smelt a rat, went to the MOP and the president of Venezuela, and left again for the sunny fields of California, where they say, there are very few Armenians.  It did Richard and I a world of good because we made very good contacts with them and this is the result.

Well, that’s about all I can tell you except that it is too bad we do not have a writer in this group to write the history of this company.  It would be so unbelieving that it would not even make a good fiction story.  I do not know how long I shall be in Venezuela and I therefore do not expect an answer to this letter of mine in this country.  Hold on and maybe in a few weeks I shall write to you again and then you will be able to answer me.  Remember me to your father and receive the very best from an old man (grown old in the service of Interamerica, Inc. – mostly RED)

So long toots, see you in the Army.

Best regards from the whole family.

FRED THE EXTRAORDINAIRE

(but who came out alright in the end)

This gives you an idea of the troubles both Lad and Dan had in getting their back pay after they left the company. Dan to return to Trumbull and Lad to employment with the Socony-Vacuum Oil Company in Venezuela. It was a long and tedious battle.

Tomorrow and Sunday, the last two posts of “Liquid Heaven”, Special Pictures and Memories, about our Family Island Retreat.

Judy Guion

Friends – Dear Danny (2) – A Long Letter from Fred Chion about Interamerica, Inc. – May, 1940

This is the second page of a long letter to Dan from Fred Chion, another Surveyor working for Interamerica, Inc. in Venezuela. Fred remained in Venezuela for a while after Dan left in May of 1939, and Fred is reporting some of the things that happened in the Company and to the workers in Venezuela.

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

The Maxes, and Richard’s wife, left for the states at the beginning of the month of June, I moved in shortly afterwards and that began our worries. As usual, Max had not left enough money and by the end of June we were beginning to be worried.  Max promised that he would be back by the end of the month and a fortnight after he was supposed to have arrived here, Dick had used up what was left of the passage money in order to pay for our current expenses.  In the meantime, two of the boys had found employment, one with an engineering firm from the states, and the other with Texaco Oil Co., one of the other boys had left for the states, and there was Richard, another engineer, myself, my wife and child, left to worry.  During the month of March, in the meantime, Karnopp had been employed by the Ministry (MOP) for a railroad survey job which was supposed to have lasted 2 months.  To date, he has been working 6 months on it and it is not as yet finished.  He took with him the two boys that were working with him on the Coro line.  Max still had a good bank balance at that time and besides that, he still had some Bs. 20,000 to collect from the Ministry for the last payment.  When the balance was getting low, Richard started to send cables to New York to Max, but nary an answer.  He had hired a lawyer who had Power of Attorney for Max, and while he had the right to collect the money from the Ministry and pay us off, he would not do so unless he had explicit instructions to that effect from Max.  He sent a cable to Max asking him to tell him what to do with us, that we were no longer interested in working for his company, that the only thing that we wanted was to be paid off in full and return to the states, in other words, liquidate ourselves entirely from his company.  Max, as usual, did not answer for the simple reason that he wanted us to stay here to help his front.  He was telling everyone that his engineers had so much confidence in him that they were willing to wait until he received his next contract.  As matters stood, it was pretty bad.  I could have taken it on the chin and paid my own passage, lose out on the expense money that he owed me, and return home.  Another bad feature was that the Bolivars had greatly depreciated and while the legal exchange was still 3.19, they could not be had for that price and furthermore the government made it illegal for anyone to buy or sell dollars at a higher price than the official one.  Through the help of the oil people we were lucky enough to be able to buy some at 3.50, meaning that I would have had to take a 10% loss on the money paid to me.  Max had promised that he would take care of this matter while he was in New York and he did as he usually does all these things.

Tomorrow, the final page of this letter about “the boomerang strikes back”.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – A Backslider With Excuses (2) – News About Dan and Ced – May 29, 1940

This is the second half of the letter I posted yesterday about all of Grandpa’s excuses for not writing his usual weekly letter on Sunday night.

The boys have not decided when to leave. Ced heard from young Stohl saying that as Rusty (Heurlin) had decided not to drive with them, they have decided not to go to Seattle by car but would probably fly. So Ced decided to take the Willys (Grandpa’s car) and Arnold (Gibson, Lad’s best friend and just as fanatical about all things mechanical as Lad) now has it, putting it into shape. He is doing a thorough engine overhauling job, new rings, etc. and is also  re-facing the clutch. It ought to be finished by Monday and then Ced will see how far North they can travel by auto and from that point take the car on the boat to the most southern port in Alaska where they can unload the car from the boat and continue their journey to Anchorage or where ever they decide to go, by auto. I have been trying to get the sailing dope for them from the bank’s Travel Bureau and road dope from the A.A.A. Will let you know the details as they are unfolded.

I think I told you I sent the three dollars check to Mr. Hadley and received a very nice acknowledgment which I will try to remember to enclose. Like most folks who know you, he likes you and also pays your family a nice complement.

I mentioned the other day to the VP of an oil refinery catalog that I am using to advertise Jelliff products that you were with the SV people and he told me he frequently saw in New York one of your bosses, a Mickey somebody, and would mention you to him when next they met.

The stock market is all shot to pieces in view of the war news. It certainly looks pretty serious for the allies but there seems to be nothing we can do about it. F.D., after having run the country into a tremendous debt with his crack-brained experiments, is now proposing to spend billions more for planes, etc. By the way there is enclosed an interesting account of a talk with Mr. Ford about the number of planes we could produce.

A man came into the office the other day and asked us to mimeograph a sheet giving his experience, etc., in business with the idea of looking for another job. He told George he had just been let go by the Standard Oil here, the reason being that while the company was not saying anything about it publicly, the company had lost so many tankers through German sub attacks that they were curtailing expenses by cutting down on their personnel. Whether this is actually true or merely his alibi for being fired I do not know.

Tomorrow is a holiday of course. The boys are not going to school until Monday and both Dan and Ced are also off. The latter are planning to make another trip to the fair (The New York World’s Fair) and will probably take Dave. I think I shall stay at home and get the house in some sort of shape for the party Saturday. It just occurs to me that as Kurtz’s is closed all day tomorrow, I may not be able to mail this letter to you until Friday and possibly by that time I may have another letter from you and perhaps the regular check from the company. Will this be the last check I will receive from them or have you decided to stay with SV (Socony-Vacuum Oil Company, which eventually became part of Mobil Oil)? Have you made any more definite plans for your trip to Caracas? Take a few hours off someday soon and write me a letter in which you let down your hair because, after all, the most interesting things are what you are planning and thinking as well as what you’re actually doing in the physical sense.

My clock says 10:30 and I am getting sleepy after my late hours last night, so I’ll bring a mental night cap to you and pile off to little old bed.

As always,

Dad

Tomorrow, Thursday and Friday, a letter from Fred Chion, who worked with Dan for Interamerica, Inc. in Venezuela, telling him all the news since Dan left Venezuela about a year ago.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – A Backslider With Excuses (1) – All The Excuses – May 29, 1940

This week I will be posting two letters, today and tomorrow, one from Grandpa, and on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, a long letter to Dan from a co-worker of Dan’s in Venezuela with some very detailed information on what has transpired with the Interamerica, Inc. company since Dan left Venezuela.

Alfred Duryee Guion - summer, 1946

Alfred Duryee Guion (Grandpa)

R-77  May 29, 1940

Dear Lad:

For the second week in succession I am a backslider. Here it is Wednesday eventide and I am just starting in to write you last Sunday’s letter. Aunt Betty came up for the weekend and having expressed a desire to see the pink Dogwood in Greenfield Hills and having a nice new Packard on tick to take her in, after dinner Sunday we donned our best bid and tucker and we all tried out the car in that direction. No, I’m wrong, that was Saturday afternoon. Sunday after dinner dishes were washed we loaded up with a car trunk full of Lilacs and started to take Aunt Betty home, making stops en route at Larry’s, Kemper’s, and Grandma’s. (all Peabodys) Ethel and Kemper were out of town but we saw all the rest who asked to be remembered to you. You must be getting better in your correspondence, by the way, because both Ethel and your lady friend at the cleaners both mentioned having received letters from you. Aunt Helen ((Peabody) Human) says however you haven’t answered the letters she wrote you. Well, after leaving New Rochelle we took Aunt Betty to Mount Vernon and after giving Mrs. Seipp some Lilacs nothing would do but we must all come in and have supper — “just a cup of tea” – which consisted of a bowl of soup, hot biscuits, hot turkey sandwich with gravy and generous helpings of rich fruitcake. By the time we reached home it was bedtime. (Incidentally, Ced discovered the borrowed Packard had picked up a nail somewhere and had developed a flat) and I decided to postpone writing you until Monday night. So, with supper out of the way I came in here to the alcove, had just inserted paper into the machine, when a tap  at the window caused me to look up and there was Bruce Lee. He explained he had been up in New England on business and was not expected home until late so decided to stop off and have a chat. You know Bruce. He got started on the war and while I got a yes or no in edgewise once in a while, he pretty well occupied the time with a monologue until nearly 11. So, says I to myself, the letter will have to go to Tuesday, but it must be written then without fail, failing to recall that an important town meeting was called for that night to decide on the budget, being an adjourned meeting from the fortnight previously. It was after 12 before the meeting was over, which brings us at one jump to the present time with almost a page 2/3 completed. Progress, I’ll say.

Received your note telling me all about little Kay. It must’ve been quite an ordeal. I can remember going through a similar experience with you at the time of the infantile paralysis epidemic when we called in Dr. Hubbard, a specialist on the disease, and learned, much to our relief, that you did not have it. That was on Dell Avenue (Mt. Vernon, NY), the time your little squeaky voice piped up in the middle of the night, “toot, toot, all aboard”.

Just here I have had quite a lengthy interruption by a visit from Carl and Ethel trying to arrange some sort of a farewell party for the Alaskan trippers. It is scheduled to be held Saturday which incidentally is also Ced’s birthday. I have bought him a watch and the gang is talking about giving the boys each a pair of heavy gloves and also a woolen lumbermen’s shirt or something of that sort.

Tomorrow I will post the rest of this letter, which includes more information about Dan and Ced’s anticipated trip to Alaska.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Hello Again – Sprucing Up The Place – April 2, 1944

Blog - Trumbull House - 1960's (2) - cropped

                                                 The Old Homestead

Trumbull, Conn.   April 2, 1944

Hello again:

Another week has rolled around and finds me again seated at my faithful typewriter, withal a little lame in the back after having wrestled with numerous baskets of incinerator refuse which Ced laboriously filled and would have emptied himself undoubtedly if he had not been summoned so summarily back to the wilds of Anchorage. I wanted to get the yard cleaned up a bit so as to look somewhat presentable for Easter. Jean (Mortensen, Mrs. Richard), too, has been busy indoors, bless her heart. The kitchen floor looks as clean and nice as any time since the new linoleum was first laid, and she has washed the curtains which the kitchen oil stove managed to make quite drab.

Yesterday, I spent some time out front cutting down Maple shoots which had started up in between the arborvitae hedge, which is so ragged any way, that I think it would look better taken down altogether. What do you think? Then there is the cellar and the barn and the storm windows to be taken down and the screens to be put up. Two or three of you “father’s helpers” better quit the army and come home and give me a hand. Oh, yes, I also spent part of yesterday afternoon applying another coat of tar on the canvas roof over the laundry. In getting the can of tar out of the cellar, I had left the cellar door open, which was an invitation to Skipper and Susan to explore the cellar. Seeing their father’s oil barrel handy, they promptly took great delight in letting all the kerosene in said oil barrel run out on the cellar floor, much to their mother’s delight and my glee.

Dave is deserving of my appreciation, and he gets it. He has not let a week go by, no matter how busy or tired he is, without writing. In the letter received this week he mentions the possibility of his being transferred to another camp soon and hopes it might be to Fort Monmouth, New Jersey, where the chances of his being able to come home occasionally would be brighter than at present.

Daughter Marian (Irwin), Mrs. Lad) writes to say that Lad is being kept pretty busy. They are still house hunting but are finding it difficult to find a suitable place accessible to the Camp.

A letter from Dorothy (Peabody) reports Anne (Peabody) Stanley) has recently returned from a visit to Vermont, Gweneth (Stanley, Anne’s daughter)  having been ill with a cold. Burton (Peabody, Grandma Arla’s brother) is still in Washington. Helen (Peabody) Human) and Ted  (Human) are still in New York. Ted is doing a series of engineering articles for MacGraw Hill, Helen meantime taking over the complete management of the apartment leaving Dorothy ample opportunity to take it easy in recovering from her operation.

Art Mantle has been awarded the Purple Heart Medal for wounds received in the battle of the Salvo Islands. Dan’s letter about the Red Cross has recently been published in the Bridgeport Post and did it’s part in helping to put the drive over the top. Although Trumbull’s quota was double what it was last year, we even topped that by $1000. And that seems to be all – – a rather uninteresting letter, I’ll admit, but at least it’s something. Can you-all say as much? Happy Easter greetings to all of you. Remember the jellybean hunts you used to have as kids? No jellybeans on the market now. There’s a war on. Have you heard?

The same Dad

Tomorrow and Sunday, more of “Liquid Heaven” Special Pictures and Memories.

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.

3/31/44

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.

Love,

Biss

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