Noon Aug 27
Read your Friday letter and note all is going well with you. I suppose you will say goodbye to Uncle Francis on the third and be walking in on us about the fifth or sixth, if the going is good.
Aunt Betty came up Saturday night. I left with David in time to meet the 7:29 at Bridgeport. Going down E. Main St., at the corner of Boston Avenue, a young lad about 15 years old deliberately turned his wheel across my path. I was slowing up for the traffic light and was traveling at about 15 m.p.h. The bumper struck his wheel, knocked him off and he scraped along the road. His hip and leg were badly lacerated and bruised. If I had been going faster my front wheel would have gone over him. He worked in a First National store near the corner. He got up and walked in the store and the manager suggested I take him to a doctor nearby. No bones were broken and a little iodine apparently fixed him up. I was a bit late for Aunt Betty’s train, but she forgave me under the circumstances.
Aunt Elsie arrived Sunday morning. We celebrated her birthday at dinner. I read them all your letters, which elicited the usual comments.
Dan came home last night. I am enclosing a newspaper clipping which please hold or mail back as you please.
Lad came down from campus Saturday on his Harley-Davidson. He started at 9 AM and didn’t reach home until the middle of the afternoon – because of a punctured tire miles away from a service station. After several hours of alternating pushing and resting he finally patched up the tube and proceeded on his way.
Saturday PM he started out to see the man who was fixing his generator and at the base of Reservoir Avenue’s long hill his chain broke, so he pushed his motorcycle for the second time that day home from there. I drove him to Bridgeport in the Dodge were we finally located a secondhand chain at that place on E. Main St. near Crescent Avenue. Lad spent most of Saturday fixing up his junk horse and left Sunday night for camp.
I have decided, after talking things over with him, to have him go back to high school in September and do his best to graduate, so I may have two boys in the graduating class next June.
Otherwise things are going on about the same. We have to be careful in the consumption of water, but it is nowhere near as bad as it was last year.
Dick and George K caught and killed a water snake the other day, in which were 31 little snakes. 15 died and the rest were placed in the big galvanized wash boiler. Some have survived.
Give my very best and then some to Fran and his best girl and to the youngsters and tell them life will be a bit pleasanter when I can see them all again.
I gave Dick a croquet set for his birthday and it seems to have proven quite popular with everyone in the neighborhood. Peggy and Elizabeth have been playing tennis a good deal recently.
Well, it’s bedtime for your old Dad, who misses you a lot and will be most happy to have you home again. Until then, au revoir,
I believe this article was published in the Waterbury (Connewcticut) News-Times, August 20, 1934, and includes:
The announcement of a CCC Scholarship to Wesleyan University – believed to be the first Civilian Conservation Corps Scholarship to be awarded by any college or university in the country.
James Lukens Mconanghy, President, had visited Camp Cross in Cornwall, Connecticut and was impressed with the men in the camp and the work they have accomplished.
Each Camp Superintendant will one enrolled man from his camp, who will become one of 14 possible recipients.
“Daniel Guion of Trumbull, Camp Cross candidate for the scholarship, is the first contestant to be named. Guion is a recently appointed barrack leader who has been active in all phases of the camp program of work, recreation and education.He has also been associated with the camp newspaper and the camp dramatic society.”
Tomorrow, I’ll begin posting a week of letters written in 1944 when all the boys are serving Uncle Sam in one capacity or another. Grandpa continues to hold down the fort with Dick’s wife, Jean and the Wardens, who rent the small apartment.