Trumbull – Dear Foreigners (3) – More News From Ced And Some Answers – June 24, 1945


Cedric Duryee Guion

Page 3       6/24/45

Skiing is done. Summer hikes are coming up but I put in very little time on them. I am singing regularly in the choir when I’m not working Sunday (average once a month). Flying. There we have a little surprise for you. I am the proud possessor of one private pilot’s license with authority to fly any plane from 0 to 80 HP., as of last Wednesday. The inspector told me I did a good flight test. Now I’m anxious to put in more time and get a commercial, but oh, the cost.

Dan’s coming nuptials are considered much as you in Trumbull view them. Does Dan need to make a request for a package to be sent him, and if so, can you get me one from him as I’d like to mail something to him. Paulette is certainly a knockout on looks, isn’t she? I certainly enjoy hearing from Lad and Dave via you and am pleased that Dave is so happy with the whole thing. Sounds as though he’s being a good sport. I don’t intentionally cut out Dan and Dick but lately your quotes haven’t included much from either of them. (Wait to get last week’s eight pager, Ced, about Dan’s experience). I enjoy all the quotes – – particularly enjoyed Lad’s description of the plane trip. Let’s have more descriptions of European experiences – – this for Lad and Dan’s benefit. I finally heard from Rusty. His latest flame is Ann Berg. He has been corresponding with her and trying to get her to come up to Barrow to become his spouse. Rusty is still crazy about Barrow and its inhabitants. Has just returned from a whale hunt and says he has material for two years painting. Love to all the gals. Ced

Now to answer some of your questions. Whether or not a request is needed before sending packages to boys overseas seems to depend on the local postmaster. I know it is required sometimes in Bridgeport but not in Trumbull. Suggest you inquire of your own post office. Above I have quoted a letter from Dave asking for serviceable, not fancy, moccasins. Perhaps that will do. In back letters you will also find quotations from Dan asking for this or that. Perhaps that will be sufficient. I still think I’d like to give you a ring rather than the other items you mentioned. How would a smaller ring for your “pinkey” go? If that, what size would this be? At last I have a picture of you in uniform but I didn’t see any stars on the collar. CONGRATULATIONS in big letters on the pilot’s license. I’m glad for you but I’m just old-fashioned enough, particularly after getting the news in the letter telling of narrow escapes and planes, to wish it were something the insurance companies would consider less of a hazardous occupation. However, the compensating thought is that your mechanic experience must have impressed on you the wisdom of taking no chances with imperfect workmanship, carelessness, etc. I have no fear as to your good judgment or quickness in emergencies. In fact I would feel the same way about you that you do about Ernie and Bill.

Next week maybe I’ll have a letter from Lad to quote but the Censor hasn’t taken the lid off as in Dan’s and Dave’s case. Until then, good night and good luck to you all, until we meet again.


Tomorrow and Friday, another letter from Grandpa to all his boys in the service.

Judy Guion


Trumbull – Dear Foreigners (2) – Ced Writes Of Dramatic Events – June 24, 1945

Ced @ 1945

Page 2     6/24/45

Now for Ced’s quarterly statement. After the expected apology and the discovery that he can forecast the weather in Connecticut by telling us two weeks before we get it what is happening in Anchorage, quite overlooking the fact that if he writes only once in two or three months the information will be a bit late when received here. However, we’ll let that pass. They have had trouble securing competent help (as who hasn’t) leaving him with much work to do alone. Just as they thought they had things in hand, trouble started.

First the Travelair landing gear, then pilot and copilot of the Boeing took off for Juneau one morning. “10 minutes later the radio operator, Chuck, and I were eating breakfast over at the airport café when someone behind us said “Surprise”. It was the pilot himself and a ghost wouldn’t have been more disconcerting. It seems he had just gotten headed for Juneau when both engines stalled simultaneously. By switching gas tanks and manipulating throttles he was able to get the engines going again. There were some 5 gallons of water in the tank when we drained it. Water had apparently leaked under the gasket in a new funnel and we had used a hose which had lain idle for over a month, which had apparently been a full of water. No harm was done other than a scare and lost time. That was Friday.

On Sunday the same two started for Naknek, got to Kenai when the right engine went sour. They returned to Anchorage on the left engine. Trouble – cracked cylinder head.

On Tuesday the same two, returning from the regular run to Juneau, when about 10 minutes out from here and about 6000 feet up, they noticed a smell. A radio operator was watching their approach and listening to their request on the radio for clearance to land. They saw what appeared to be the landing light turned on for a few seconds. A minute later the pilot reported he was in serious trouble and to stand by for an emergency landing. Suddenly the right engine burst into furious flame and while the copilot turned on the fire extinguisher, Ernie prepared for a crash landing at Turnagin Arm. He dove from 6000 to 2000 feet in the time it took the fire to go out (thank the Lord). In the meantime, he had opened the passenger door and told all passengers to fasten on their safety belts. He was afraid they would either panic and start jumping out the door or come forward and try to get into the pilot’s compartment. However, they behaved beautifully, the fire was out and at 2000 feet the pilot was set for a dunking in the Arm with all on board, right engine inoperative, when he suddenly realized the ship might limp into the field. He leveled off and started to strain the left engine to pull into the field. Landing was made without further mishap to the relief of all concerned. Incidentally, I would fly anywhere with these two. They show excellent presence of mind and judgment. The fire burning less than a minute nevertheless did terrific damage under the cowling. The main gas line, due to defective installation at L.A., had broken and had spewed high test aviation gas directly out of the pressure pump into the open engine nacelle at the probable rate of more than 2 gallons per minute, some of which had undoubtedly run out under the bottom of the wint. (A nacelle, in case you haven’t a dictionary handy, is the covered seat for the pilot of a plane).

I’ll continue Ced’s letter later today. On Thursday and Friday, another letter from Grandpa to his five sons.

Judy Guion

Life in Alaska – Dear Ced – Rusty Huerlin writes from Nome, Alaska – April 15, 1944

The year is 1944. All of Grandpa’s sons are scattered around the world. Lad is married and training mechanics for the Army in California. Dan is in London and making frequent trips to France. I don’t know exactly what he is doing but he is a Surveyor and Civil Engineer and D-Day is coming soon. Did he have a part in planning the invasion? I don’t know. Ced is in Alaska working to retrieve and repair airplanes for the Army in the Anchorage area. Dick is an MP (Military Police) in Brazil, I believe acting as a liaison between the Army and the locals. Dave, the youngest, had left school when he turned 18 and joined the Army. He is currently going through Basic Training at Camp Crowder, Missouri Grandpa is in Trumbull with Dick’s wife, Jean, and doing his best to keep everyone in the family informed about what is going on in the lives of their siblings.

 Rusty is in Nome, Alaska, with no heat, and his hands are very cold. 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” ( ) 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.

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.


For the rest of the week, I’ll post a letter from Grandpa, another from Rusty, a note from Marian and another letter from Grandpa. 

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Patient Reader (1) – Lots of News From Ced – April 4, 1945


I will be using the entire week to post a six-page letter from Grandpa with quotes from other letters he has received and news from France.

Easter Sunday, 1945, at Trumbull     4/1/45

Dear “Patient Reader”:

Having forced you last week to arise from the banquet table without having served the desert – – an Alaskan delicacy, a specially prepared by Ced the Chef (who usually burns things but this time turned it out just golden brown) – – I shall now continue in my own inimitable manner, which consists of quoting from others, to wit:


Cedric Duryee Guion

“I have finally taken up residence at the Morgan Establishment. Myra’s mother arrived on the Aleutian last Saturday afternoon and took over my room. I packed my belongings that evening and barged in at the Morgan’s. As the floor is still being laid I have taken temporary lease of the attic which measures about 4 feet high between the rafters and is probably 12 feet in length and 8 feet usable area wide. Of course I spend a minimum of time up there but it isn’t too bad at that.

Art Woodley arrived from Washington, D. C., and L. A. Sunday evening. He is returning from the hearings on the Anchorage-Seattle run and states that if an Alaskan carrier gets the route he expects it will be himself. He was pleased with the way the proceedings ran. He returned in the Boeing 247, the same one he left in, but he had two new engines installed and the Army paint removed so that it is now silver color and looks infinitely better.

(May 9) Note: that’s what the letter says – – time evidently passes quickly up there) I have been sitting here reading over the previous section and your last few letters to receive some inspiration. I am apparently doing so in vain as little inspiration is forthcoming. Rusty’s address is merely C. Heurlin, Barrow, Alaska. Incidentally, Rusty made big headlines a couple of weeks ago and I will attempt to get you a copy of the times to send. Seems he pitched in and helped (Rusty style) the doctor and nurse at Barrow during an epidemic of influenza among the natives recently. The doctor mentioned in his report that Rusty had helped save many lives and was directly responsible for some recoveries. Last I heard from the hero himself was last fall, and so I have no news to quote directly.

Started the Red Cross first-aid standard course last night and will thus be tied up every Thursday night for the next 10 weeks. My card had about run its course and the Ski Club is trying to get interest in a ski patrol started. As few signed up for the course I felt I had to enter myself as an example. I have had the course twice but one must renew every three years anyway.

My draft status is now occupational deferment until August 11. The day before the date set for my pre-induction physical I was notified that I had been classed as 2-A again.

I continue to receive your most welcome letters and continue to fail to answer regularly. Correspondence, other than to you, is too much of a disgrace even to mention. I have quite a few slides up here. Would you like me to send the ones you haven’t seen with the idea of your returning them? Occasionally I like to show some of them to folks up here which is why I would like to have them returned, otherwise I’ll bring them along on my next trip eastward, probably after the war. What I have in mind is to drive out on the highway and East to Trumbull where I would stay for a while. Then perhaps I’d take off for the South seas or South America. The latter place I have never been interested in until quite recently and then it took Walt Disney’s production of “Saludos Amigos” to create the desire to visit that continent.  ( )  ( )  If you haven’t seen the picture, by all means do so. The theme development is about the cleverest I ever remember having seen. As for making Alaska my permanent home, I am rather dubious. Homer or a similar locale might be worthwhile but Anchorage is fast becoming a place to exist but not to live in. Ced.

He also mentions sending a box of gifts home and something to each of the Guion warriors.


Tomorrow’s section of the letter carries news of Trumbull, Grandpa, Marian and Jean. Two letters from Dave, a letter from Lad and words for Dan will complete the week.

Judy Guion


The Beginning (60) – Childhood Memories of Trumbull – Random Memories (3)

These are the memories of my Father and his siblings, recorded over several years. When my Uncle Dan passed away, I realized that I had better get started recording the memories of Dan’s siblings before they were also gone. I was able to have two recording sessions with my Father, Lad in California; two with Uncle Ced in New Hampshire, a three-day cruise in our boat with Aunt Biss; one session with Uncle Dave in Stratford, CT and one hand-written session (I forgot my tape recorder going up to the Island in New Hampshire, where Uncle Dick lived) with Uncle Dick. I transcribed them once exactly as they were spoken, again removing the ums, ahs, half sentences started over, etc. I then produced a final copy that was easier to read, but it still needs work getting the chronological order correct. Memories are not recorded with a date stamp. I created 75 binders for family members which include all three translations, pages and pages of photos and memorabilia and the actual recording. Now family members can actually heat their ancestors speaking. It was my first project with all the material my Father saved for me and a true Labor of Love. I hope you enjoy these memories of A Slice of Life at a different time and place.


CED – About 1940-41, things were getting red-hot.  Major Marston was up there in charge of the Alaskan Defense Command.  He was based in Anchorage.  Rusty made friends with him – he made friends with everyone he talked to.  He met the Governor of Alaska (Ernest Gruening) ( through Major Marston.  Rusty came home one night and he said, “Know what they’re going to do?  Major Marston says that the Governor wants to go around the whole perimeter of Alaska and try to develop a reasonable defense system for Alaska.  I guess it was Major Marston’s idea.  Major Marston said, “None of us know anything about Alaska, the Eskimos, the Indians.  We should go around and meet these native people.  They know the land and if any problems develop with the days coming, we would be lost.  We would not know what to do.”  He said, “We want to get an Alaska Defense going with native people.”  Governor Goering says, “Well, you know what? I don’t know any either.  I’m the Governor of this territory and I’d like to go around with you and meet these people that I’m supposed to be Governor of.”  So, Rusty sat and listened to all this talk and he said, “You wouldn’t want to take me along, would you?  I have had this in the back of my mind for years.  I would like to do a series of pictures on the discovery of Alaska.”  His whole goal, idea and the love of his life was Alaska.  He said, “I would like to have a chance to go around to all these places and make sketches.”  “OK, come on along,” they said.  That’s where he got this series of eighteen paintings, starting with the fellow who came from Russia, sailed to Alaska and took it for the Russians.  That was the first painting. He did the Gold Rush and sixteen others.  This was after he moved to Fairbanks.



Painting by Capt. Hurlin (Huerlin), formerly of the Alaska Territorial Guard at Barrow.

It depicts Major Muktuk Marston in 1942 on one of his many trips by

dog team through the Arctic northland enlisting te Eskimos, Indians, and

Aleuts in the Alaskan Territorial Guard, the forerunner of today’s famed

Alaska National Guard Scouts.

Pub. by Ward Wells Photographer, Anchorage, Alaska

Rusty moved to Fairbanks and got married.  He was probably in his 60’s, and he married a girl from the Fairbanks News.  At this point he decided that he would teach Art so he got a job teaching Art at the University.  He did that for quite a while.  After he got these pictures done, the University said to him, “Why don’t we set up a building for you and fix it with a huge rotating platform and you could put these eighteen paintings all the way around the building.”  They talked it over and they got the Poet Laureate of Alaska to narrate the story.  He did a beautiful job and that’s up there.  If you ever get to Alaska, you should see it in Fairbanks. (I believe this park is called “Alaskaland” .

Alaska is different than any other state.  This place is out of town about ten miles or so.  It’s a park sort of thing.  They have a huge boat there that they have on display, probably like the boats they used up there.  This one building is all Rusty’s paintings.  They also have a museum and other historic stuff.

Rusty was an amazing person.  He did posters during the war with “uncle Sam Needs You” on them.  When my wife, Fannie, my sister, Biss and I went to the University of Alaska, we told them what we were after, and they took us down to the basement and showed us some of his work.

Ced had been in contact with Rusty and they were going to visit during this trip but Colcord Magnus “Rusty” Heurlin passed away on March 10, 1986, in his 90th year, four months before Ced’s trip to Alaska. It would have been one fantastic reunion.

Tomorrow, more Random Memories, most from Dave.

Judy Guion

The Beginning (59) – Childhood Memories of Trumbull – Random Memories (2)

These are the memories of my Father and his siblings, recorded over several years. When my Uncle Dan passed away, I realized that I had better get started recording the memories of Dan’s siblings before they were also gone. I was able to have two recording sessions with my Father, Lad in California; two with Uncle Ced in New Hampshire, a three-day cruise in our boat with Aunt Biss; one session with Uncle Dave in Stratford, CT and one hand-written session (I forgot my tape recorder going up to the Island in New Hampshire, where Uncle Dick lived) with Uncle Dick. I transcribed them once exactly as they were spoken, again removing the ums, ahs, half sentences started over, etc. I then produced a final copy that was easier to read, but it still needs work getting the chronological order correct. Memories are not recorded with a date stamp. I created 75 binders for family members which include all three translations, pages and pages of photos and memorabilia and the actual recording. Now family members can actually heat their ancestors speaking. It was my first project with all the material my Father saved for me and a true Labor of Love. I hope you enjoy these memories of A Slice of Life at a different time and place.

Colcord (Red) Huerlin at his studio in Ester, Alaska

CED – Rusty Heurlin gave my mother a painting – it was a rather famous one – he was very fond of her.  He was younger then my mother and father by a little.  We did a lot with him – we would go hiking with him.  He made quite a name for himself.  All of his life he lived by sponging.  He was so charismatic that he could get away with it.  He walked out of school, he took Art lessons, he was a hobo for a while.  The only thing that really interested him was painting.  He spent all of his life painting beautiful pictures.  He was a good artist but he didn’t make any money at it.  He knew all the artists in Westport – Red Heurlin – they knew Red Heurlin and they loved him.  He loved dogs, oh, he loved dogs with a passion.  There are a lot of his paintings around Fairbanks, Alaska, at the University of Alaska, in banks, in hospitals.  They are mostly outdoor scenes, some have to do with the early settlers, the Russians. Colcord Heurlin – he always signed C.  Heurlin.

One painting did more to make him famous than anything else he did.  Rusty made friends, he lived with me for a time in Anchorage.  He made pictures.  He made a mural, he filled the whole wall with it, for one of the bars in town, a whole Hawaiian scene.  He used to drink quite heavily at times.  I would come home at three or four o’clock in the morning and he would be painting.  He lived with an old Norwegian guy, he slept in the upstairs room, he had to climb up a ladder.  I worked for the airline there, mostly Bush Piloting – scheduled passenger service came later – but most of the time I was there, it was all Bush Pilots.  Rusty and I would go down to George’s living room, George was a bachelor.  Rusty would paint in that living room until three or four in the morning.  During the day he’d go out partying up and down the street, they called it the longest bar in Alaska.  That was Main Street in Anchorage.

LAD –  I remember our family went up to the Island a few times, and I remember Rusty went with us the first time.  We were supposed to meet his sister, Anna, and then she was going to lead us to the Island.  Apparently, she began to worry about the fact that we had not gotten there yet.  It was getting late in the afternoon, so she and her brother-in-law, Ingrid’s husband, decided to go looking for us.  There was only one road so we had to be on it.  They passed a car (coming the other way) where someone had his feet out the window and she said, “That’s my brother.”  So they turned around and everything from there went fine.  We had a nice time at the Island and Dad really enjoyed it.  I think maybe the next year or so, we did the same thing again, although we knew where we were going this time.  We didn’t have to meet Anna, Ingrid or Britta and Rusty may or may not have been with us.

When I was twelve, Rusty (Heurlin) took Dan, Ced and I, I don’t remember if Biss was along or not, to the Island, they owned.  Back then, there was no States Landing Road.  We went to Lee’s Mill and rowed from there.  It was late in the evening when we got there and Rusty wasn’t sure he was going to the right place, but we got there.  Among other things, Rusty told us of his boyhood experiences at the lake.  This particular summer that we went, there was a lot of logging going on and one particular day a tug boat was going down from Lee’s Mill to the Broad’s, pulling a long line of barges, maybe half a mile long.  Rusty told us to get into the rowboat and he rowed towards the barges.  Just before we reached them he rowed awfully hard and fast and our rowboat went up over the logs and into the water on the other side.  That’s what I remember about it.  After all the barges went by, we went back to the Island.  I don’t recall how long we stayed, maybe a week or two.

To learn more bout Rusty, see the link below.

Tomorrow, some more Random Memories from Grandpa’s children.

Judy Guion


Life in Alaska – Dear Marian and Al – Ced’s Take On His Niece And Nephew – July 25, 1946


Douglas Alfred and Judith Anne – summer, 1946


P.O. Box 822

Anchorage, Alaska

July 25th

Thursday evening

Dear Marian and Al,

The crowd collected instantaneously as it always does, and one old lady in a rather dirty pair of slacks and the foul stench of stale liquor on her breath, elbowed her way toward the man sprawled grotesquely on the post office steps where he had fallen. Someone had run for a doctor and another man had tried to keep the crowd back while he wiped the forehead of the victim. The old lady finally worked into a good vantage point, not without receiving several sour glares, remarked to anyone who cared to listen, “Geese, he don’t look like he was sick, does he?” To which someone else replied, “Probably ain’t as sick as you, lady”. This last brought an ominous rumble from the old woman, but she thought better of more banter, and contented herself with studying the victim again. “He got a letter clutched in his hand “, she remarked, “maybe he got bad news”. About this time the figure of the man stirred and his eyes flickered, then opened, and he sluggishly raised himself on his elbow while the man who’d been wiping his head helped him to rise, and finally got him to his feet. The victim looked around at the crowd and flushed deeply. It was very embarrassing to be stared at by so many people, and he wasn’t too pleased with his public spectacle. It had all happened so suddenly that he had been caught off guard; he had stopped in to get his mail, and received a letter from his folks across the continent, and while that was a weekly occurrence, the news it contained was such, that as he sauntered from the post office, opening the letter and glancing at its contents, he was so shocked that his mind had gone blank, and the next thing he knew was this moment of awakening with a pain-racked body. While the news was very good, it still had this startling aspect – the man had become an uncle, not of a niece alone, or a nephew, but both at once! Well, the crowd, disappointed at nothing more gruesome than a case of fainting, quickly dispersed, a few well-meaning souls hanging on embarrassingly to offer help if it seemed needed, but as the man’s mind cleared, he started off down the street, first thanking the doctor, who had arrived, and assuring him that he was quite well. As the old lady departed she was heard to muse, “What in the hell was wrong with that guy?”

Now it seems that this young man has recovered his equilibrium sufficiently to address this selfsame missile to his brother and sister-in-law, jointly guilty of this great event, and in the same joy which they no doubt feel, he wishes to congratulate them on their dual role in the appearance of dual offspring. I am tempted to ask, “How did you do it?”, but will think better of it, and content myself with the pleasure of knowing that I have more relatives. Wish I were there to say hello to all the A.P. Guions.

This is probably the first letter I have addressed to you since way back when you were in California, but I don’t feel that we don’t correspond, as Dad keeps us up on the family doings so completely and efficiently. Nevertheless, I am ashamed of my correspondence record in general, and hope that time will cure this bad habit of omission.

Have Dad, Jean and Dick left for the island? I could really drink in a little bit of “Winnipesaukee (sp?) myself about now. I would have about two weeks vacation with pay, and what a treat it would be. The distance is a little prohibitive and probably I’ll wait till next summer when I should have four weeks added up with pay, and possibly a little sick leave to add in.

Will you tell Dad, or yourselves, to take care of mailing the package of color slides which were mentioned in a previous letter home? They are supposed to be mailed to Miss Margaret Pirkey. Saybrook, Ill. They should be sent express, and as soon as possible, as she will be leaving there about the 20th of August to return to Anchorage. It was too, too stupid of me to forget to include the address last time.

Enclosed is a bunch of odds and ends which might be of interest to one and all. In haste as usual.

Written with my new pen –

Thanks, Dad – it works fine.


Tomorrow another segment of the Diary and Journal of John Jackson Lewis about his Voyage to California – 1851.

On Sunday, another of My Ancestors.

Judy Guion

Life in Alaska (2) – Ced Writes to Grandpa – June 26, 1946

(Letter from Ced to Grandpa

page 2, June 26, 1946)

Dan and Ced with new Buick delivered by Dick, 1941 

  In spite of all my efforts to counteract the trend, old father time is creeping up on Old faithful (his Buick, the one Grandpa bought in 1941 and Dick personally delivered to Dan and Ced in Anchorage), and aided by my indifference of late, I am afraid it is fast becoming mortal. These Alaskan highways are just too much for even a good car. I still hold fleeting hopes of finding a corrective rejuvenator, but without the finances or time, the old girl is sinking rapidly, tho’ she still holds her head high and pretends virility. I am still debating about performing more necessary surgery. With cars so scarce and so high, I still believe that inroads against senility can be made. Time alone will answer my questions, and in the interim, if you all in Trumbull will put in a good word for her in your devotional services, we may pull her through to a more glorious sunset.

I am in the midst of very similar activities as above on another long suffering and even more ancient member of our Alaskan family. Poor ailing Ben (his alarm clock), still faithfully clucking away in its ceaseless passing of time, was the object of much commendation and praise last week, but the inspection it received at the time was too much for it’s ailing heart, (prompted no doubt by my not to gentle handling and it’s being held in other than face down position) and now I have placed it under a complete rejuvenation program of my own, which I have some reason to believe might be successful. Pirkey’s clock is here as stand in, but it makes so da_n much noise! Big Ben is the quietest running alarm clock I ever heard. Funny thing is that I really have no need for an alarm anymore. I go to bed after work (around 5 A.M.) and of course waking up around 1 or 2 in the afternoon requires very little encouragement from external sources.

P.N.A. is still trying to get into long pants and still waiting for the C.A.B. (Civil Aeronautics Board) to- (what’s that poem about Roosevelt, and riding to the promised land?) What I am trying to say is they haven’t yet decided who will run the Seattle run.

I am enclosing an article about the new source of power for the city of Anchorage for the next two years. This will alleviate the terrible shortages which have caused terrific curtailment of power, affecting restaurants, hospitals and industry, as well as heatless homes, cold dinners in midwinter, etc. The city has also voted for and obtained a city manager at long last. Yours truly did his part to achieve this last by voting yes.

I’m doing some flying, and hope for a commercial license before fall. What after that? — Your guess is as good as mine.

Aunt Betty – Thanks for the card and enclosure, I am still holding the latter till I find something worthy of your thoughts for myself. Maybe a super necktie with the advantage of being a birthday necktie, which pleases both the giver and receiver. My very best love to you, and to all the others in the habitat de la Guion.


Other items of interest

The draft board has reclassified me 1-A, (silly people)

Some of the fellows out at P.N.A. are trying to form a union (more silly people, but they may succeed and if so, will get a closed shop). Maybe I’ll have to join if it is half reasonable, otherwise I’d go find another job. – Who knows?

Till next time then.

Oh yes, my vision is still 20-20, but I will probably have a permanent scar on my left eye corner. My eyes will perhaps give me a little trouble – tire more easily, etc.


The rest of the week will be filled with letters from Grandpa about the news in Trumbull.

Judy Guion

Life in Alaska (1) – Ced Writes to Grandpa – June 26, 1946



P. O. Box 822


June 26th, 1946

Dear Dad:

I still haven’t taken my A test, and still am holding up everything for it. I have been sloughing off badly in all other activities, and if something doesn’t iron out soon I will have to go prospecting or homesteading. Getting more money than I ever have, and yet I have never been more short of spare cash. The good part of it all is that I am paying off a few big debts which are getting smaller at a good clip. When they are paid off I should be sitting pretty.

Enclosed are two checks, one for the June payment on loan at the North End Bank, the other to carry my insurance at John Hancock for another quarter.

Well, since I last wrote you much water has spilled. I am now living in a small apartment with Chuck Halgrimson, another P. N. A. employee, and doing our own cooking here. So far it is working out fine, and the future seems good, except that Pirkey, who had the apartment before she left for Chicago for the summer vacation, may be back for next school season, and will want the apartment back. By that time we may find another apartment and continue on as we are. We are paying $50 per month for a living room-bedroom, kitchen, and bath. The rent is reasonable up here, but back there the charge would be about $35 post war inflation price. We are still lucky to get it at that price here. It is small but comfortable. Furniture was included, but we moved the bed out and put up Dan’s and my double bunks. The stove is a three burner hot point electric range with oven. Refrigeration is ingeniously achieved by putting perishables in the bathtub and letting a stream of water from the cold water faucet run through a big bowl, which in turn cools all the various items in their individual and sundry jars, cans, etc.

Speaking of Pirkey – She is back in Chicago with no pictures of Alaska to speak of, and I told her I would ask you to gather up the Alaskan slides and express them out to her for her to show to her friends in Chicago. I hope that this will meet with your approval, and I am sure she will take good care of them. She has done so much for me that I felt it was one way of giving favor in return. When she is finished with them she promised to return them to you at Trumbull – (be sure to enclose return address). I should have requested this the first of the month, but as you already know, I am not as prompt at that sort of thing as I should ought to of be.

Thanks, Dad, for the filters. They were as always highly cherished, and they arrived last week in good condition. As far as anything else is concerned, I can suggest nothing which would be required. I do appreciate your generosity, but let me suggest that you be generous to yourself this once, buy a few cartons of cigarettes (earmarked with my name if you like) and deposit them in the “had to see Paris” fund. You owe it to yourself, and it will do you good to make the pilgrimage to the ancestral nation. In case you find it impossible to take the boat, why not try the airways? I don’t believe they are too much more than the boats, but you can find that out yourself. They have the advantage of no tipping at least. (I mean in a money gift sense) and a much shorter time in transit. Maybe you could make one way boat, the other plane, although in that case you might lose the round-trip rate. Well, bon voyage, and happy landings.

Tomorrow, the rest of the letter from Ced to Grandpa with more news from Alaska. The rest of the week will be filled with letters from Grandpa.

Judy Guion

Life in Alaska – Dear Grande Pierre and all le Habitat de Guion (2) – May 17, 1946

Around the first of the month the company asked me to go on days to turn out the old floats for the Travelair at Merrill field. I was the only one who had worked on floats before, and so was the appointee. I started in by testing the floats, found some leaks had developed in the two years the floats have been idle and so enlisted additional help in the person of Art Dawe, one of our sheet metal men, in patching the bad portions. It was on Saturday the 11th, a week ago today, that we were working on this project

page two    May 18th

 very industriously, I inside the float, Art outside. In drilling and hammering on the surface there were particles of aluminum and other small objects floating about in the air and a good deal of it found its way into my eyes. I gave it only passing thot, as every day in Anchorage one’s eyes are continually assaulted by flying dust stirred up by passing cars and the whims of the winds. However, on the way in after work at night I felt an obstinate particle in my right eye. At home I stood before a mirror and observed a fine, shiny piece of material, square on the eyeball. I took a piece of tissue, moistened the tip of a twisted point, and deftly lifted the particle from my inflamed eye. Finding some Murine, I put a few drops in each eye, and went on about my business, forgetting the whole affair 15 or 20 minutes later when both eyes felt normal. I visited the Thorsen’s till about 1 a.m., then went home and read in bed and (tsk,tsk) till nearly 3. My eyes became a little watery, but seemed not exceptionally so under the circumstances. However I crawled under the covers and turned out the light. When I shut my eyes they both seemed suddenly painful, but I figured they were just rebelling against all the misuses of the day and night. I went to work Sunday, but from the moment I arose the light was nearly unbearable, but I soon realized that the left eye was the sensitive one, the right only sympathetic. By covering the left eye I was able to drive a little, but got anyone riding with me to do it if possible. All day on the floats they bothered me, and outdoors the strain was terrific. I decided that if the condition wasn’t improved Monday morning that I would stay off work and visit a doctor. The rest you already know, except that I didn’t mention that Dr. Romig found a small foreign body in the left eye which he removed with a knife. This particle was dug in right on the edge of the cornea, and as it was so serious, he had me eating penicillin and dropping it in my eyes also. Yesterday he sent me to Dr. Shepherd, and with the aid of the eye machine Dr. Shepherd discovered that there was some sediment left on the right cornea from the piece I had removed, and that was what he removed last night. Now there is a diminishing  ulcer on the left eye, and as I said before, all should be as good as ever within two weeks. In the meantime I am to see the doctor every two days until he knows all danger from the ulcer is over. Did I ever tell you about my operation?          I failed to find Dan’s address, so will forward the package to you for re-mailing along with a package for Dave which he never received, and which was returned to me last Wednesday. My apologies to you, Dave, but as you see, it was no fault of mine.

May 20th

          Probably better skip the refrigerator, as I have too many expenses already. The end of this month I am going into a small apartment with Chuck Halgrimson, one of the hangar fellows. There is no refrigerator in the apartment, but will get along sans that item.

Saw Romig this morning, he says my eyes are coming fine. Now it is time to go to work, so until the next chance, Adieu.

Am sending a package containing Dave’s bundle, and also the gift for the little French girl. Will you please address the package and send it on to France, letting me know the bill.


Love to A Betty, Jean and Marian

Hello Dave and Greetings to the old married stinkers.

Also included in this letter were two articles about travel over the Alaskan Highway and a poem about Helicopter Pilots called THE STUMP*JUMPERS LAMENT.

Tomorrow I’ll post more Special Pictures of the Trumbull House – Then and Now.

On Sunday, more about My Ancestors.

Judy Guion