Trumbull – Dear Lad (3) – Newspaper Article – October 1, 1939

This is the Article which was published by the Bridgeport Times Star at some point prior to the election on October 2, 1939. 

ADG - The Bridgeport Times-Star picture, Sept. 12, 1939- September 12, 1939 (2)

This same picture was used for the article below with this title:


Trumbull First Selectman

Town Officials

by Don Quaintance

Fifteen years ago, if someone had suggested to Alfred D.  Guion that he enter the political arena he would have laughed, shrugged and labeled the suggest or a wag.  At that time he was advertising director of a big industrial concern.

But today, he plays his role of leader of Trumbull’s 5,000 citizens with skill born of true executive ability.

Trumbull can thank the depression for Guion.

For, if business conditions in the advertising field had been better than they were, he would still be plotting nation-wide advertising campaigns, working far into the night, with no time for the mundane tasks of a New England town selectmen.

Guion has been in the advertising business most of his life.  He spent six years of it as advertising manager of the Bridgeport Brass Co., and also held executive jobs with Allied Chemical, the Celluloid Co. of New York and Century Co. publishers.

His entrance into the field of public service was inspired, he says, by the late Mrs. Guion, the former Arla Peabody of Mt. Vernon, N.Y. Those who knew her can readily understand, since the sales manager’s wife was devoted to the community in which she lived.  An ardent worker for civic improvement, she never tired of doing things for other people – little kindnesses, in addition to large-scale organizing for new roads, Social service and better local government.

There are many who remember Arla Guion and her work, her friendliness.  She took care of her own home, she was invested in work that made for the betterment of Trumbull.  In addition to that she inspired a career.

Those who get to know the First Selectman regard him as an all-round booster.  He never knocks.  As a matter of fact, he is rather inclined to be indulgent.  Deplores, for instance, the towns self-separation into Trumbull – Nichols – Long Hill.  Thinks it should be all one.  Becomes very unhappy of the “feeling” between the sections which crops out at intervals.

According to Guion, there should be no “across the railroad tracks.”

“If that’s going to be the case, he says, let’s tear up the railroad tracks.”

Guion’s political ideology is predominately Republican, although locally, he says, politics shouldn’t mean a thing.

“He knows his people so well who serves a small community that it is always the individual work of the man that counts, rather than his politics,”  he maintains.

“In a community-minded town liked Trumbull, for instance, political questions affecting the State or Nation have no place.  The only local interest should be the common welfare.  Because of this belief Guion has more than once discussed the prospect of a change in the form of Trumbull’s town government, from the unwieldy town meeting system to a non-partisan, business-like town managership.

“There should be no selfish axes to grind, and the non-partisan governments should take an interest in such things as education, the religious activities, instead of some of the things they do now.”

Guion proves beyond a doubt that he is a square shooter when, regardless of his political following, he makes open declarations of where he stands.

“I’m convinced that Trumbull could get a good deal more for its taxes than most critics would be willing to admit; redeeming it with: and that’s what we are constantly striving to do.”

Alfred Duryee Guion was born Sept. 11, 1884, son of Alfred Beck and Ella (Duryee) Guion in the city of New York.  Went to Mount Vernon High School and took a B. S. C.  at the NYU School of Commerce, Accounts and Finance in 1912.

Mr. Guion has six children, five of them boys.  Alfred, Daniel, Cedric, Richard and David; and the sixth a girl, Elizabeth. (Elizabeth was actually the fourth child)

He was employed in various corporations in New York from 1912 to 1921, throughout the war.,  and was associated with the Bridgeport Brass Co. during the next decade.  In 1929, he formed his own Corporation, the Alfred D.  Guion and Co. Advertising Agency and has been President and Director since.

He served as Justice-of-the-Peace since 1928, was assistant prosecutor of the town court in 1934-35.

He is a member of Delta Sigma Phi fraternity, is a Mason and a member of the Algonquin Club.

True, he has an impressive business and public service record, but the private life of Mr. Guion is much more interesting.

His hobby, to begin with, is cooking.  Like many other business executives of today, he is an expert chef.

Along these lines, he likes home life and has five sons and one daughter.

His “oldest boy” (Lad) is in charge of the mechanical equipment on an oil well in Venezuela.  Another son, (Dan) has been building a road through the jungles of Central America, (actually Venezuela) is now visiting his father in Trumbull, and will continue college work in geology in the fall.

The First Selectman of this landlocked town likes water and boating.  He has often dreamed of owning a yacht, just like most of the other people in town.  If he had the money, that’s what he might do.

He likes dogs.  He has one at home called “Mac”, short for McKenzie, the son of an Alaskan malamute brought by a friend (Rusty Huerlin) from the Mackenzie River in Alaska.

He loves to read ancient history, mysteries and see stories.  Says it permits him to relax.

Best known of Guion’s social activities of course are those which take him out among his neighbors.  Primary among them is his interest in young people.  He is a member of the National and local Boy Scout Councils and an Executive Board member of the Pomperaug Council.

He is vitally interested in promoting the activity of young people in Trumbull.

He thinks more young folks should be interested in government.  They’ll be running the show tomorrow, he says.

Guion likes the youngsters and they like Guion.  It’s not supposed to be known, of course, but rarely do they approach him for a favor to ask that it is not granted with alacrity.

Locally, the First Selectman favors bi-partisan Boards and Commissions, which in many towns have found constant opposition from the parties in political power.

The “hecklers” rap him in print and speech, he usually refrains from defending his actions, believing in the old adage, “Don’t chase a lie, let it alone and it will run itself to death.”

Tomorrow and Sunday, more of Dave’s World War II Army Adventure.

Judy Guon

Trumbull – Dear Sonny (1) – Sunday Visitors – September 10, 1939

1934 - 1940 Timeline

1934 – 1940 Timeline

At this point in time, Lad is the only one of Grandpa’s children who isn’t at home and he misses his oldest. With the money Lad is sending home to help support the family, Grandpa has hired a man to help fix up the old house and he gives Lad all the  details and shows his appreciation in this letter.


September 10, 1939

Dear Sonny:

This has been somewhat of a hectic week. The house, at least that part of it which consists of the front hall, the upstairs hall, the living room and the music room, has been very upset with Mr. Smithson removing wallpaper, painting walls and woodwork, and the upstairs floor, and moving all the stuff into the spare room from the upstairs hall, and the living room and downstairs hall stuff piled into the music room, the smell of fresh paint, the cleaning up afterward and the replacing of most of the stuff. It is not all straightened out yet, as the bookcases in the living room are not yet dry enough to put back the books. Last night I waxed the downstairs hall and living room floors.

Aunt Betty is visiting us and yesterday I received a phone call from my cousin Clara, telling me that her daughter, Sylvia,  my other cousin Tizie and an old sweetheart of Clara’s with whom they have all been staying in Norwalk recently, were coming up this afternoon. We all got busy and tried to get the house in some sort of order. In between times I got busy early with the dinner, roasted the veal, made apple pie, etc. and at about four o’clock they showed up. It had been about 35 years or more since I had last seen my cousin and we had quite a visit with all the family to catch up on.  Just to give you a little background: my father had a favorite sister whom I called Aunt Allie.she married an Army officer, Major Kilbourne, a surgeon.  He came within an ace of being assigned to Custer’s famous Regiment that was wiped out in the Indian massacre of historical fame.  My Aunt had five children — the oldest, Clara, married an English army officer and went to India where their only daughter, Sylvia, was born, the same month and year that you saw the light of day.  My Aunt’s second daughter married a West Point American army officer, had two boys, both of whom are married and have children.  Later, because he became a drunk she had to leave him.  The third of my Aunt’s children, Helen, married Gen. Hugh Johnson.  My Aunt’s fourth child was also a West Point graduate, Harry Kilborne, and the youngest was Guy (Guion), who was lame and nearer my age.  Perhaps you may remember him, a lame man who visited us one 4th of July at Dell Avenue when we made some bombs.  When Clara was in her teens my father and mother invited her to visit us in Mount Vernon.  She was very popular with the young folks in the neighborhood, one of whom, George fFish, fell in love with her, but because he had a reputation of being too fond of liquor, she turned him down when he proposed to her.  His wife died recently, and when Clara recently came from England, he invited Clara, his old sweetheart, who had lost her husband many years ago, her daughter, Sylvia, and Tizie to visit him at Norwalk.  These were the four that came up this afternoon.

Quite unexpectedly, also, my sister Elsie decided to pay us a visit today and telephoned from the Bridgeport (train) Depot that she had arrived this morning. So we had a very busy afternoon, all in all. They have just left, and as you surmise, I have resumed my regular Sunday afternoon routine of writing to my absent “highboy”. (That was quite a long paragraph, wasn’t it?)

Tomorrow I will post the rest of this letter – most of which was written by Aunt Elsie. 

Judy Guion

World War II Army Adventure (86) – Dear Dad – On Board A Ship – March, 1945

David Peabody Guion

Dear Dad –

Here I sit on board ship in a small shaded spot on deck.  Inside its out of the sun – but unbearably hot.  By now it may be warming some at home – but I imagine you’re still bundling up when you go outside.  But here I am without a stitch of clothing on me but an identification bracelet, my dog tags, undershorts, and a pair of combat boots.

I’ve had a lot of time to think since I left the States – sometimes I believe I have had too much time.  You get pretty low once in a while if you allow yourself.  But I’ve had time to plan and dream for the future too.  I’ve had time to see the mistakes I’ve made in the past – and wish I could repent of them.  I’ve had time to think of the fun I had at home – the perfect and easy life – how lucky I was.  I long to get my hands in Mimeo ink – and have job after job pile up on me till I get irritable.  I’d like to have a rip-snortin’ argument with any one of my brothers now – just for old-times sake.  All these things may sound like I’m homesick – well – who isn’t?  But remembering my fun in the past acts more’s as a morale-builder.  It will help to keep me going when the time comes for us to leave this aristocrat’s life on board ship.

I wouldn’t have missed the opportunity for the world.  Some people pay for it in money – we’re paying in another way – but even that has its good cause.  I’ll come back with lots of stories – I have a few already – and lots more memories.  I’ll come back smarter – and be better able than ever to make the Guion Adv. Co. (A D Guion Advertising Company, Grandpa’s business in Bridgeport, CT) the biggest and best establishment of its kind in New England – big talk?  You just wait and see!

Do you remember when I told you of our company mission, etc.  when I was home?  Well, it will probably work out pretty much the way I told you – but it will be a little “hotter” than I expected.  But we’ll have a big Christmas dinner in ’46 – I figured thirteen in all – counting sisters and brother-in-law, and nephews-and overseeing it all – Aunt Betty. (Dave doesn’t know it but there will actually be three more – Dan’s daughter and Lad and Marian’s twins –  my brother and me!)  We’ll have lots of fun – Butch can rip four or five of my piano roles – and we’ll let Marty pull down the tree (Butch , Raymond Jr., and Marty, Elizabeth’s – Bissie’s, two sons) – after all he’s got to have his fun too.  It sounds sarcastic – that last part – but really it would be worth it if I could be there to see it now – but I can’t wait till ’46.  Don’t worry, Jean, or you either, Marian, they’ll be home before then (Dave is referring to Jean’s husband, Richard Peabody Guion – in Brazil, and Marian’s husband Lad – Alfred Peabody Guion, in France) – but I’m figuring I’m getting in on the fun, too – so I pushed it up to December ’46 – okay?

Well – pretty soon they’ll say “chow down for troops” and I’ve got to get some clothes on before they’ll let me eat – so – think of me once in a while – and remember every day is a day closer to THE day –

All my love (‘ceptin’ some for Elly) (Elinor Kintop, his girlfriend)


Tomorrow another letter from Dave’s World War II Army Adventure.

Judy Guion

World War II Army Adventure (85) – Dear Folks – I’m Still Ignorant – March, 1945

David Peabody Guion

Dear Folks –

I’m still ignorant – no memory – don’t know where I’ve been – where I am – where I’m going – why or even the date.

On the boat I ran into a guy by the name of Robert Guion, formally from St. Louis and now from Iowa.  He’s a darned good egg.  I hung around with him on a lot of the time.  He’s a sailor and assigned to the ship.  I told him of your cousin who was writing the family history,  Dad, and he said his father has a lot of information on the Guion’s (Gee-on he pronounces it) in St. Louis.  It seems they owned quite a bit of St. Louis at one time.  His father’s present address is George Guion, Winterset, Iowa, R.R. 5.  It might be interesting to connect the two family histories if possible.  Bob says his father has a whole scrapbook full of stuff on his family.

The boat trip has given me more respect and love for the sea.  It’s really beautiful, storms and all.  Note – I didn’t get see-sick even though 3/4 of all on board were sick – including the crew.

There’s nothing I can write – so – –

Love –


Tomorrow another letter from Dave about his World War II Army Adventure. 

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Lad (2) – Bits and Pieces of Local News – June 18, 1939

Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad, my Dad)

Last night also Dorothy (Peabody, Grandma Arla’s youngest sister) arrived just at supper time on an unexpected visit and a few minutes later Burton (Peabody, Grandma Arla’s only older brother) drove up also unannounced, so we had quite a house full over the weekend and for today’s dinner.

Page 2 of R-27

All day yesterday Dick spent at Whitney’s picking strawberries.  He earned $1.45.  No further word has been received from Rusty, so I assume he has not heard from his Alaska friends and Ced’s Alaska plans are therefore as uncertain as ever.

Don Quaintance has decided not to buy Ced’s car so he is still waiting for a buyer.  Ted (Human, who was seriouosly injured in a car ccident in Veneuela) is still gaining slowly and is now seriously thinking of looking for a job.  He expects to go to Boston tomorrow on that quest and has some other leads out.  Not much new in regard to his claim against Max. (Yervant Maxudian (Max or Maxi), owner of Inter-America, Inc., the company that hired Uncle Ted, who then hired Lad and Dan. He is the reason for the lack of pay and for Dan’s plan to return home. Lad was hired by the Socony-Vacuum Oil Company and is now working at their oil fields maintaining the Diesel pumps.) He  wrote a letter to the Minister of the Interior telling him the whole story and enclosing a copy of a mercantile report I was able to get for him from Dun and Bradstreet, copy of which is enclosed for your information. Ted said something about writing to you soon advising you to start your claim through the same lawyer who is handling his.  I received a letter from the Conn. (Connecticut) Senate to Washington to whom I had written about Max and he told me he had referred my letter to Secretary of State Hull, so it is getting to the top in Washington and if it penetrates through them to Venezuela it will probably help in setting the scene for any action you boys start locally.

I don’t know whether I told you or not but Alice Reyom Alice and her husband are living in the Little House on the Trumbull property) has been working as a sales lady in Kresge’s (local Discount Department Store,

NOTE: The first Kmart opened in 1962 in Garden City, Michigan. Kresge died in 1966. In 1977, the S. S. Kresge Corporation changed its name to the Kmart Corporation. In 2005, Sears Holdings Corporation became the parent of Kmart and Sears, after Kmart bought Sears, and formed the new parent.) yesterday she threw up her job because of a scrap with the girl who was over her and is now looking for another job, possibly at Woolworth’s.  I have seen very little of Reyom this week.  He is very busy I understand getting out the yearbook for the Park City School of Beauty.  I don’t think he has done hardly anything about fixing up the cottage and is not paying any rent, waiting until he gets the money he expects to collect on the year book.

I will not deny that all this political mudslinging and excitement is extremely annoying, disheartening and even worrisome at times and is getting me frightfully disgusted with the whole business so that I feel very much like refusing to be considered for reelection, which of course is just what they would like to have all the town officers who are under fire do, that I am going ahead and trying to do my job as though everything was lovely.

Tomorrow, the final part of this letter. On Thursday and Friday I will post the Dun & Bradstreet Report on “MAXUDIAN, Yervant, Petroleum, New York, NY.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Sons Of The North, East, South And West (2) – News From Aunt Elsie And Ced – July 23, 1944

Grandpa (Alfred Duryee Guion) and his sister, Elsie May Guion in Trumbull

I’m going to interrupt this letter right here like I myself was interrupted by a broadcast over the radio predicting that the attempted assassination of Hitler this week would lead to the collapse of Germany before the end of the summer and with that of Japan six months after Germany. Now we would like to believe that! Even if it is six months premature it is still good news.

Elsie writes she is taking a week’s vacation beginning August 14 and is heading for Trumbull. How about you boys coming home for that week to help make her visit enjoyable?

Jane was over here a while ago and said Charlie (Hall), when last heard from, was at Pearl Harbor, had been assigned to duty as assistant engineer in charge of four diesels on a big Navy tanker, the CASH. Art (Mantle, her brother)  is still up north in Washington state waiting for the new ship he has been assigned to to be finished and put in commission.

Ced @ 1945

Cedric Duryee Guion

Ced is trying to disrupt the family again. He is worse than the California Chamber of Commerce and a Cook’s Tour agency rolled into one. This time in a letter to Aunt Betty he apparently is determined to get her to leave home and take up mining work in Alaska. The lure of high wages and plenty to drink is a strong lure and I expect any day now to come home and find her all packed up, with her hot-water bag and all ready to start out for Whitehorse.

Tomorrow I will post the final segment of this letter from Grandpa to his sons, scattered around the world. On Friday, another letter from Marian – and Lad. 

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Boys (en masse) (1) – News For Both Lad and Dan – April 12, 1939

Grandpa continues to keep his oldest sons apprised of the happenings of friends and family at home in Trumbull.

Alfred Duryee Guion – (Grandpa) – in the Alcove                               where he typed his letters


April 12, 1939.

Dear Boys (en masse):

As you may have noticed I usually find time of a Sunday to sit down at this rickety old typewriter and spend a couple of hours chatting with my expert sons, but last Sunday (Easter) we were all invited down to Larry and Marion’s (Larry and Marion Peabody) for dinner.  We left about 10:30 with seven in the little old Willys (Grandma, Helen, Elizabeth, Ced, Dick, Dave and the writer).  On arrival we found Aunt Dorothy (Peabody) had already arrived and Ced then left for Mt. Vernon where he picked up Aunt Betty (Duryee, Grandpa’s Aunt) and Elsie (Duryee, Grandpa’s sister).  During the course of the day, Anne (Peabody) Stanley),sister of my Grandma), Arla Mary Peabody) Burton (Arla’s brother) , Don and Gwen (Stanley, Anne’s children), Kemper and Ethel (Peabody), Frank and Lynn (possibly Frank Peabody, Arla’s uncle and his wife) also came in so there were quite a houseful.  Marion , as might be expected, served a wonderful dinner.  Allen is at the cute age and amused us all. BUT, I didn’t get my letter written.  Now it came to pass that Monday and Tuesday maketh the selectman to be diligent about his work, so that this is the first opportunity I have had to write, and I don’t feel so much like doing it tonight either, because this afternoon Don and Gwen and Aunt Anne arrived in their new Plymouth she had just bought and the five kids are playing chopsticks and whatnot on the piano, the telephone is persistently ringing for someone who doesn’t answer, the Stanley’s little black dog is running around sniffing everything and I have a miserable cold, but aside from that there is nothing to distract my attention from this English composition classic.

Biss and Zeke finally moved in the apartment after having spent most of the week taking off old wallpaper and painting the walls and in general cleaning up.  They bought a few pieces of furniture, which, with what was already in there, will be enough for them to get by on until they can get more of their own.  They bought a secondhand electric refrigerator which came today, is too large to fit anywhere in the apartment, so is installed in the laundry.  Elizabeth was given a surprise shower last week at Helen Smith’s and got quite a quantity of useful things.  They are paying a rent of $20 a month, but I am paying for the paint they bought to refinish the walls. Reyom has been fired from the Park City Engraving Co. and is now with the Park City School of Beauty Culture, if you please.  Alice is working in Kreesge’s  5 and 10. Smithson is over here re-papering Grandma’s room at Helen’s request so that Ted, when he arrives, will have a nice fresh clean room to stay in.  I thought in view of the fact that he had done so much for you boys (in intention, at least) the fair thing for me to do was to offer to have Ted stay here until he knows what he is going to do, and I suppose that was one reason Helen had the idea of fixing up the room.  She has repainted the bathroom at the head of the stairs white.

Page 2 of R-16

Ced has been laid up in his room for a couple of days with a cold.  The weather here is raw and Marchy.  We have only had one or two spring days, but birds and buds are heralding the arrival of something other than war in Europe.

I seem to have had a lot of trouble with the Briggs ever since it was installed.  Three times now the pipeline leading from or into it has broken, draining out all the oil in the first intimation I have had that something was wrong was when the motor began to knock.  On two occasions this all happened several miles from where I could get any oil, which is not done the motor any good.  Myron Whitney took the car today and put flexible hose at both inlet and outlet ends, so I’m hoping further damage from this cause will be prevented, but alas it will not remedy the harm that has already occurred.

There is a new building development being started over Beach’s Corner way which they are calling Parkway Village.  It is being financed by the Bridgeport City Trust Co. and apparently they intend to push it hard.  Their goal is six hundred lots, but if they erect fifty houses the first year they will be doing a good job.

Babe Cecelia Mullins, Lad’s girlfriend) has had a smashup in her Ford.  It happened just opposite Bill Park’s gas station on Noble Avenue.  She will probably write you full details, Lad, so I will not attempt to tell the story here.  Her car was damaged, but she escaped unharmed, I believe.

Enclosed you will find copy of a letter written to Shuster & Feuille, in answer to a suggestion Lad made to me in the letter received just after I had mailed the other letters off to the Venezuelan officials.  I hope they all do some good and result in you and the other men being paid in full.  I am much interested in seeing what my letters bring forth and what the result of it all is.

Aunt Betty keeps exceptionally well, as also does Elsie.  I took down the scrapbook with all your letters in it and Elsie spent most of Sunday afternoon reading these.  She has had to move out of the Tudor as they were raising prices on account of the Fair.  She is now down near East 20th St.

Well, so much for general news.

Tomorrow, I will post individual letters to Dan and Lad, all part of R-16. 

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Christmas at the Trumbull House – 1947


Christmas at the Trumbull House, 1947

Merry Christmas from my family to yours:

(Clockwise) Dan, Ced (in upper left corner), Zeke Zabel, Anne (Peabody) Stanley, Lad’s chair (he was taking the pictures), Marian Guion, Grandpa.

(Clockwise) baby Cedric, Paulette Guion (Mrs. Dan), Helen (Peabody) Human, Elizabeth (Biss) (Guion) Zabel, Dorothy Peabody, Dave, Elinor Guion (Mrs. Dave), Raymond (Butch) Zabel Jr., Marty Zabel, Ced (again).



Judith and Douglas Guion, Lad and Marian’s twins.

Missing: Arla Guion (Dan and Paulette’s oldest daughter), Gregory (Lad and Marian’s third child) and Dick and Jean Guion.


Open you heart at Christmas

And not just for one day

Open your heart at Christmas

Let this beautiful feeling stay.


For caring, generosity and love,

We treasure through the year.

Don’t wait until Christmas

To share it with those you hold dear.

M. Carne


Tomorrow and Friday I will be posting another letter from Grandpa to his family scattered around the world in January of 1945.

Judy Guion

Trumbull (2) To The Senders of Three Letters and a Promise – January 21, 1945

This is the rest of the letter I began yesterday.

“Dear Gang,” Dave writes on Jan. 13th, “today is my anniversary. One year ago today, and about 4:30 P.M., I arrived at Fort Devens and became a-a-a-“soldier”! I still don’t believe it. At breakfast this morning the Sgt. got hold of this bit of information and burst out with “Happy anniversary to you”. Of course the whole gang joined in and when the “music” subsided, Mac said: ‘May you have many, many more anniversaries to come’ (cute kid) – what a thing to wish on a buddy. Anyway it was good for a hearty laugh after finishing a rough night (midnight to 8 A.M.) of wrestling with pencils, incoming and outgoing logs, secret messages, urgent messages and a host of other nightmares. As I write this letter it has been 32 ½ hours since I’ve closed my eyes in sleep. So, if you’ll pardon me, now I’ll get to bed.”

Ced and car - 1940 (3)-head shot


Ced, after mentioning receipt of a Christmas box with thoughtful comments on the contents, says: “I wish I could have spent Christmas with you, too, but the fact that things went so well there transmits some of its pleasure all the way up here and kindles a little of the New England Christmas spirit in me. I am very happy for the fact that Marian is able to be with you, as it seems she radiates a little of the California sunshine which she has forsaken for the traditions of the East. What with Jean and Marian holding up the morale of their soldier husband’s father and Aunt Betty to spread her cheer and goodwill, “Babbling Brook” (The name Grandpa and Grandma gave to the Trumbull property after they arrived in December of 1922) must be a pretty grand place to be, even if it is a little feminish – (do I coin a word?) Tomorrow (Jan. 12th) is Juneau Day, and as is my wont on Tuesdays and Fridays, I shall arise at 4:45 A. M., cook some mush, toast, hot chocolate, eat some fruit and breakfast and Buick out to the hangar, not forgetting to don some appropriate clothing before leaving home. I arrive at the hangar shortly after 6 o’clock, put the heater on the engines, firepot the oil which is in cans, having been drained after the last trip, clean off frost from windshields, remove covers from wings and tail surfaces, etc. In this work I have an assistant.

Page 3     1/21/45

At 7:30 or so the oil goes into the engines, baggage and passengers arrive and at 8 P. M. (I believe he meant to write 8 A.M.) The ship is supposed to leave. At 3 in the afternoon I am free to go home and go about any other personal business which I might like to do.

I am happy to report that poor old aged Big Ben has again made a miraculous recovery from a severe relapse. For two days I slept at its side pampering it no end, and was only able to keep the spark of tick alive by the ruse of placing the poor patient on one side and applying artificial tickulation intermittently for several minutes. After two days of this reclining pose, it’s beat seemed stronger and I tremendously placed it in its normal position – – and all went well. He has at this very minute throwing both arms around at a surprisingly correct tempo and smiling, awaiting the hour of 4:45 to once again perform his special service. By one so worn by hard and roving years, he has certainly given a wonderful and faithful account of himself. And to think that all watchmakers turn up their noses in disdain when approached on the possibility of giving professional service to such a fine old timepiece.

Last week there was a new paper issued in Anchorage. It is small and distributed free, depending on advertising for its source of income. On the back page was this little riddle. There was no answer anywhere and I am still trying to figure it out. Mary is 24 years old. She is twice as old as Anne was when she was as old as Anne is now. How old is Anne? A says she is 16, B says 12. Who is right?

History indeed repeats itself, Ced. Long before you opened your eyes on this old world as the little stranger in the Guion household, this very riddle took the country by storm. “How old is Anne?” Was the big question of the day. It was on everybody’s tongue. I’ve forgotten whether anyone ever found the correct answer but for a while it was the all absorbing topic of conversation. Yes, the filters had an imaginary Christmas tag affixed to them “with love from Dad”. As to the finances, I must have been a bit psychic, as I answered your question in last week’s letter. If you are putting a bit of your income away regularly in some local institution, well and good. If not, better make regular remittances home so that I can get ready for your next Anchorage to Trumbull trip. And while being generous with your money to people in general, don’t forget to be generous to yourself.

Time marches on and the approach of bedtime coincides with the exhaustion of topics which form interesting subjects for comment. We are heartened of course by the good news this week of Russia’s forward surge on the Eastern front and MacArthur’s progress in the Pacific, but having grown cagey and been already bitten once by the optimism bug, which resulted in the setback on the Western Front, I am wondering if the foxy boche are not trying to play the same trick over again, lulling the allies to let down in effort by creating the impression that they are ready to quit and then, when the Russians are offguard, pull some sort of comeback stunt that they did in Luxembourg. Once bitten, twice shy, applies in this case. On the other hand, there’s that little bright HOPE that Pandora let out of the box along with all the other disagreeable little ills, and maybe the Russians will reach Berlin where we did not – – well, anyway, I can dream, can’t I?


I’ll finish out the week with another letter from Grandpa to his five sons. 

Judy Guion

Special Picture # 341 – The “Children” in 1992

In 1992, Dan and Paulette (and their children) planned a Family Reunion to be held at the Trumbull House. Family members came from near and far. It was the last time all six children would be together. The  grandchildren and great-grandchildren’s pictures were taken at the top of the long “Steps and Landings, Steps and Landings, Steps and Landings, which went from the front door down to the road. It was a favorite place to play school for my generation. We would start at the bottom and every time you got an answer right, you moved up one step. If you got it wrong, you went down one step. Sometimes it would take hours until someone won.  I had trouble getting these pictures into the post late last night, but I have corrected the problem. I hope you enjoy looking at some family pictures from 1992.


                             Dan, Dave, Lad, Dick, Ced and Biss

1992 version of the picture above

Grandpa and Grandma’s 21 grandchildren (that’s me, 3rd from the right in the back row)

Grandpa and Grandma’s great-grandchildren, 21 in 1992 (currently 49 great-grandchildren and 42 great-great-grandchildren – and still growing)

1992 Guion Family Reunion – everyone taking pictures of the six “children”  sitting on the Summer Porch  (view from the Summer Porch to the Barn)

Tomorrow, I will begin a week of letters written at the end of 1943.