Trumbull – Dear Son (2) – News From Dave and Lad – January 14, 1945

This is the conclusion to the letter posted yesterday. This week, Grandpa has heard from four out of five sons, which results in a longer letter.

Page 2     1/14/1945

David Peabody Guion (home on leave, December, 1944)

From Signalman Dave a “5 Jan. 45” letter says: “Naturally I just couldn’t break off at home and come back to camp without leaving a little something behind me to remind you all of the four days I spent with you, but now I find I must have the very article that I left at home. It seems that the G.I. procedure is that every soldier wears what is known commonly as dog tags. So if one of you good souls would be so kind as to locate the missing articles and send them to the address here before they Court Martial me, I sure would appreciate it.

My furlough ended Monday at midnight. The Jeffersonian was only eight hours late, forcing me to miss TWO connections out of St. Louis. Naturally I was slightly AWOL!! – – Only 12 hours late coming in. But in the eyes of the C.O. our reason was a good one (there were three of us on the Jeffersonian). It seems that all of the trains were late and most of the boys were AWOL for a few hours. Some even came later than I did. This week I’m working from 12 midnight until eight in the morning in the code room at shantytown (tar paper barracks in camp now being used as operations buildings). I “sleep” in my own bed during the day. Either Sunday or Monday we go into the field for a week’s training. Don’t be surprised if by the end of the end of next week I’m writing from the hospital.”

APG - Langeres, France - 1945

Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad) in Southern France

Through courtesy of the recipient we are privileged to hear now a few words from Ordnance in Southern France:

“Things are getting better here. The sun shone almost all day and practically dried out the high spots. We got a stove for our room, so I keep fairly comfortable. There were eight of us in this room, about the size of half of our kitchen and there are four double-decker beds made of unfinished wood with 6”  to 8”  slats spaced about an inch apart. A mattress filled with straw which, believe it or not, is fairly comfortable. On December 13 he writes “All of us are sitting around here in our warm room with a bottle of beer. We all feel better tonight since we got paid. Due to rationing of practically everything in the PX, a maximum of that 80 francs ($1.60) per week is about all you can spend. Every cent we had, excluding good luck pieces, had to be changed to francs and we are paid in francs as it is a military offense to have American money on your person here. For easy calculating one franc is worth approximately two cents but it is still a little funny to try to buy something.”

He is now very happy to be working on the diesel electric plant and is now on the night shift. He is also trying to get in touch with Dan and if there is any way of the latter letting him know where he is, by all means set the wheels in motion. On December 22nd: “A few of the boys went out the other day and brought back a big Christmas tree which is been decorated by a bunch of very ingenious men using practically nothing but discarded paper, tinfoil from cigarette packages, and by hanging evergreen bows from wire strung around the room, the day room has been quite nicely fixed up. We expect to have a company party there this week.”

Page 3     1/14/1945

Marian Irwin Guion (Mrs. Lad)

Marian (Irwin) Guion (Mrs. Lad)

Jean (Mrs. Richard) Guion

Jean (Mortensen) Guion (Mrs. Dick)

There is a report that Ray Wang has been wounded although not seriously. Catherine Warden is preparing to leave here somewhere around the first of the month for Oklahoma. I don’t expect there will be much difficulty in finding a new renter but it will leave us seriously handicapped regarding the laundry problem, which she has been doing for us every week on her washing machine. Jean and Marian are willing to tackle the job after I get our washing machine put in order (Ced fixed the electric ironer when he was home a year ago). I figured however, that with them both working all day, five days a week, they might not have the time, so I took our wash down to Crawford Laundry which used to do it and was told that, as a special favor to me, they would take it this week, but only the de-luxe expensive service was available, that they were not taking on any new customers in fairness to their old steady customers and that in any event, they could not promise the return of any wash inside of a month. That, coupled with the fact that it is impossible to buy any sheets (they had to call the police at a recent sheet sale at Read’s, one of the officials at the store was knocked down in the scramble and two women tore a sheet in half, each grabbing one end and claiming it was hers), sort of settles the matter for us. Either we wash our own stuff or go without, or wear dirty clothes. Reminds me of my cousin Dud’s test to determine whether his socks were dirty enough to go to the laundry. he threw them against the wall, and if they stuck, they were.

It’s been snowing here all afternoon, in spite of which fact, two young things journey up here in the bus to get married this afternoon, reminding me of another 14th only a month later, when I performed another marriage ceremony here in the house and then the groom shortly thereafter ran away to Brazil, and, personally speaking, hasn’t been heard from since, – – well, hardly ever.

I spoke forniest (? not my typo) in this letter, about your possibly inheriting some of your parents characteristics. There is one thing you did not inherit from me and that is a, what for the lack of a better term, I shall call “money sense”. I suppose it is largely my fault that most of you are not more thrifty. When you were born, I started for each of you a bank account but fell down somewhere along the line in inculcating the idea of saving for the rainy day that invariably comes with the change in life’s weather. Later, this fund was transferred (small as it was) to the Home Building & Loan here in Bridgeport, and none of you have added a cent to it, as far as I know, since that time. In Ced’s case I suppose the atmosphere of Anchorage makes it particularly difficult to develop the habit of laying by for future needs. I religiously saved for him the money he sent home from time to time, thinking he was paying me back for some fancied debt he owed me, and then when he came home last year, he spent it out of his generous heart. He gets a bonus from Woodley’s and immediately thinks about buying Christmas gifts in spite of the expense of fixing up his car. If you boys can’t save something from the small amount you are being paid, just for the mental discipline and good habit formation, then bolster your good intentions by sending me something REGULARLY to put aside for you. I speak out of the experience and observation of sixty years and know someday you are going to thank me for it, if you heed these words now, and it will make me face your future more confidently also. This is not something you married ones can push off onto your spouses. It’s your job. Sorry to end on so somber a note.


Tomorrow and Sunday I will be continuing the story of Biss in St. Petersburg, Florida, helping her Aunt Anne (Peabody) Stanley with her two children, Don and Gwen.

If you are enjoying these letters about the home front during the war, why not spread the news and tell some friends? They may thank you.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Son (1) – News From Dan and Ced – January 14, 1945

!945 has just begun and Grandpa has heard from four of his five sons – quite an improvement over last week. 

Trumbull, Conn., January 14, 1945

Dear Son:

Table of Contents:

                                  A Christmas Poem…Dan Guion

                                  Alaskan Diary…Ced Guion

                                  Report From So. France…Lad Guion

                                  30 Seconds Over Camp Crowder…Dave Guion

                                  Odds and Ends…by the Editor

Dan in uniform @ 1945

        Daniel Beck Guion 

           It is a blessing that you boys have acquired a sense of humor, or maybe, and I say it in all humility, you have inherited a bit from your parents. Anyway, amid the stress and storm of war and amid all the hardships of life at the  front, lodged in abandoned German block houses, etc., it is mighty reassuring to know that you can see the funny side, as witness the following in a V-mail written on December 24th by Dan. It reminds me of a reply an old darkey, who in spite of having his share of life’s troubles, always remained cheerful, once made when asked how he managed to remain so cheerful and calm, “Well, ah’l tell yo’”, said Uncle Joe, “Ah’s jist learned to cooperate wid de inevitable”. Now for Dan’s contribution:

‘Twas the day before Christmas when all through the house

All the world was astir here, especially a mouse

And the flea bitten bastard with rodent-like gall

Dragged a bar of my chocolate out into the hall

And there in a corner with indecent haste

The candy became gastronomical paste

He was heard to remark as he slunk toward his nest

“Merry Christmas to all, and to you, boy, T.S.”

All of which is by way of meaning that, although Christmas is Christmas, it is not always possible to spend it as we wish – – because of the rats and lesser mice and sech like. However, (I said it last year and I’ll say it again) Next Christmas things will be different.   Dan.

Ced Guion

Cedric Duryee Guion

Ced, from up near the Arctic Circle, reports on December 29 as follows:

The Buick is again performing its long neglected duties and does pretty well at it. There are a few bugs to be chased out of it yet and the way it looks, I may have to take up on the bearings a little later on, but I think I’ll wait until warmer weather. It seems that somehow or other, either from incorrect fitting or by misuse in some way, one of the rods loosened up a tiny bit in the first 100 miles. I didn’t drive fast but I had the spark set a little late and it tended to overheat a little. That, added to the fact that we had nearly 2 feet of snow at just the time I started running it, made the going very tough for a new engine. There is nothing serious at all about it but it was very disappointing after doing the job so thoroughly. It still lacks 285 miles of being run in. I installed the Stuart Warner heater which I bought from Carl and it really is swell on these cold days.

We have had a couple of extremely cold snaps down to 25 below on a couple of days, but for two weeks preceding yesterday, weather and temperature have been extremely and unusually kind to the Arctic dwellers. For some time now the frost peculiar to this section has been building up each night and gradually, completely shrouding all that is exposed to the elements in a gorgeous a blanket of lacy white. Right now when the sun comes out to peek briefly at Anchorage in its hurried course across the southern section of sky, I am privileged to look upon what I believe to be the most beautiful formations of this frost which I have seen in my four odd years up here. Everything, however ugly in the nude, is now resplendent in its new white drapings. Later however, the wind came up and blew most of the frost away. Christmas Eve I spent at the Morgan’s open house and at the Church, singing a Christmas concert with the Presbyterian choir. Christmas dinner was at Jerry Keene’s. The shortest day of the year has finally come and gone and now the days are lengthening again, although I haven’t noticed it as yet. I figured on calling you on the phone from here on Christmas day, around five a.m., catching you at ten, but found there was no openings until Thursday, and again New Year’s Day with the same report. At the night rate of $20 for five minutes and four or five dollars more on day, I decided it wasn’t worth it unless I could get the right time.

Tomorrow, the rest of the letter.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear ASF – A Bit of News From Lad and Dick – January 7, 1945

Yesterday’s letter wrapped up 1944 and  as 1945 begins, I’m sure Grandpa is praying fervently that this war will come to a conclusion and by Christmas of 1945, his boys will be home for good.

The Summer Porch at the Trumbull House

Trumbull, Conn., January 7, 1945.

Dear Members of the A S F: (American Service Force, of course, to all of you except Ced, who rates his own designation, as Art’s Stationery Flyer, possibly Anchorage’s Sinister Firebug, Alaska’s Skeeing Favorite, or it might even be Anyone’s Steadfast Friend – – write your own.

Well, here it is with 1945 one week old, the Christmas tree and decorations have been laid away in camphor balls, winter has returned with a steady snowfall, income tax is drawing near and we’re not yet in Berlin.

News this week is conspicuous by its absence on the Trumbull home front. About the only item of note is that Paul (Warden, who lived in the apartment with his wife and children) has definitely received his appointment permanently locating him in Oklahoma for the duration and has sent for Catherine and the children. She has already sold her car, but as he was not able to find living accommodations there until February 1st, they are planning to stay here throughout this month. Catherine prefers to leave her furniture here, so that I may rent the apartment furnished. She is taking her washing machine and sewing machine along with her, but at present she feels she would like to come back to Trumbull when things again come back to normal.

Marian (Mrs. Lad) and Jean (Mrs. Dick)

Both Marian and Jean have heard from their respective lords and masters, but the old man, being only a father, has not heard from any of his tribe this week. I suppose Dave got back to camp safely and that Ced is still percolating as usual, but those assumptions are but due to my vivid imagination. Special message to the Benedict’s of the family: isn’t there some he-man information you can write about once in a while to your paternal ancestor. Of course I know your first obligation is to your wife but I figured once in every few months I might rate a few lines. Not that I would have you do so from a sense of duty, but merely on the basis that being still a member of the family, your other brothers and sister would enjoy hearing from you just as you, I hope, enjoy hearing from them through the medium of Trumbull headquarters, and this quite understandably is not possible in the letters you sent to your wives and sweethearts (one and the same thing, of course), because the letters they get from you are the one slender thread that unites you and they assume an importance and practically a sanctity which is not to be commercialized and spread, broadcast, for all eyes to see. I can quite appreciate this feeling and you will too, if you ponder it a moment and try to view it from the feminine viewpoint. The net consequence is that, while verbal comments of interesting news is passed on, it is not the same as having something down in black and white before one to quote in these weekly blurbs of mine. Save the love and kisses for your sweeties but get expansive once in a while and include the whole family in on your broadcasts. Lad, for instance, writes Marian, if we can read behind the few deleted words of the censor has destroyed, that he is evidently located on some old French castle and that Lad has something to do with running the diesels which supply the juice, enough at least to run his electric razor. The walls of the edifice in which they live our thick and their quarters are cold and damp. Jean reports that, for Dick, the rainy season has started and for about three months it will continue to rain harder each day and then will taper off again for another three months. Right now it is oppressively hot where he is.

Marian is “doing her bit” for the war and starts working tomorrow for Sikorsky, something to do with helicopters. We’ll know more about it later. And that’s about all right now. Meantime, keep your chin up.


Tomorrow and Friday, I’ll be posting another letter from Grandpa to his five sons away from home.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Boys – New Years Eve – Round-Robin Letter – December 31, 1944


MIG - Marian and Jean bringing in Christmas Tree - 1944

Marian (Mrs. Lad) and Jean (Mrs. Dick)

New Year’s Eve, 1944 at Trumbull, Conn.

Dear Boys:

It is somewhat like old times here tonight, principally due to the fact that we have a surprise visit from Uncle Ted, Helen and Dorothy, who arrived here about noon time, so that with Jean and Marian, the old dining room table was occupied almost like it used to be. Zeke and Elizabeth and the two youngsters came in later, and Dave, of course, representing the Army, and Aunt Betty representing herself, made up the family circle. So you see we are sending the old year out in good style, tempered as always with thoughts of you boys in the background.

The girls were busy last night getting ready for their New Year’s Eve hen party tonight. They have fixed up most temptingly luscious cookies and cakes and all evidence point to an enjoyable evening in prospect.

Ted tells me he has more or less been marking time until the big boys in the government and the big financial interests get set on their Bolivian project. He expects to have a talk soon with the contracting engineer at which time he will know whether he will go to South America to start work at once or not.

Incidentally Lad, Ted says the Ven. Pete. (Venezuela Petroleum) is going along in fine shape. They are building a refinery of their own, are developing their own port facilities and things look very bright for the future. He advises holding on to the stock. And, he also suggests, that with an idea he has reposing in the back of his mind, it would be a mighty good stunt, likely to bear big future dividends for you, if you would occasionally drop a postcard showing that you still remember them, to Frank O’Connor and Mr. Kunhardt, c/o Venez. Pete. in Caracas, and in fact any of the other big boys you know at Soc. V. (Socony-Vacuum Oil Company).

Dorothy tells me that on Christmas Day they sent you a round robin from the New York Peabodys, which I trust you have already received. If opportunity presents, I shall try to get some of our guests to add some message to this letter just to vary the monotony of another letter from Pop.

Addition by one-fingered Ted – who ain’t dead (yet)  came up to Trumbull with Helen and Dothoraty (Spelling ok)   enjoyed seeying the  “HUSKIES” now known as Dad’s grand kind (and they are grand) (Biss’s two boys, Butch and Marty Zabel) also admired the two beauties (Marian and Jean, Grandpa’s daughters-in-law) – who prepared such a fine dinner. Probably won’t find them here when you return if Ziegfield sees them. Hope this finds all well –

            Aunt Helen (Peabody) Human

To all of you, here, there and yon, may I add my good wishes and tell you that we are having a grand time up here in Trumbull….we haven’t been here for ages. And Dave (home on furlough) is here too, so at least we are seeing one of you. Marian and Jean have done themselves proud with a delicious dinner and completing preparations for a decidedly feminine party they are having tonight. To you who are married to them, you are very lucky….but they are too. We’re staying overnight so we are having a real spree and enjoying it just loads. Donald Stanley is due to get home tomorrow, I believe….so will be seeing him soon. He hasn’t been around since last May or about that time. I just finished reading a lot of letters from Dan, Ced and Lad. To-day it really seems as though we have all been to-gether. Lots of love. Aunt Helen.

                  Aunt Dorothy Peabody

Page 2    1231/44

Here is Aunt Dorothy en route to Los Angeles – – the idea being to distribute the population evenly, – – since California has given Marian to Trumbull, I return westward to balance the California population! Aunt Helen and Uncle Ted seem to have pretty much covered the ground on today’s doings so I can only add ditto to their comments on our delicious dinner and charming hostesses – – all three of them – – Marian, Jean, and Aunt Betty. I very much enjoyed seeing the transformation which Marian has made in the back bedroom with the beautiful sailing ships. It is truly lovely – – as Dave says, “When I look around I think I must be in the wrong house!” Not meaning that the Trumbull house hasn’t always been a lovely place – – but the feminine influence got him, I guess. That back bedroom has never seen organdy ruffles before, I’m sure! We all wish you all were with us on this eve of the New Year – – and you are, in fact, very close in our thoughts and in our hearts. All my love to you – – Aunt Dorothy.

Do I daresay “Happy New Year”, fellows? It seems that that spectacular time of the year has rolled around again, but I haven’t gotten into the right spirit. (Or should I say “Spirits”) Anyway, we can certainly hope for a wonderful new year, and perhaps if we wish hard enough, we can also have a high old party here in Trumbull this time next year. In the meantime, have as nice a time as you can, and remember that the best celebration we can ever have will be when all of you are home again. Until then, best of luck and good wishes from….. Marian

“A Very Happy New Year”, boys. And let’s all hope and pray that next year at this time we will all be here in this house to wish each other a happy 1946. All my best wishes to you all…. Jean

(Note by the editor) Dave is out with Bob Jennings, so is not available to finish this round robin sort of letter.

Dan makes us all happy by writing on December 13th “a few words of assurance”. He says he has met a pleasant family in the nearby city of — and my frequent visits there keep me amused in my spare moments, and soon after this V-mail letter arrived we had another written December 2nd on a New Year’s greeting card, as follows: “To indicate how completely we are out of touch with the rest of the world we breezed blithely through both Franklin’s and Tradition’s Thanksgiving without knowing it until too late to celebrate. Intellectually I am atrophying at an alarming rate. I don’t suppose the Fates cut me out from a provincial pattern. At any rate I miss Paris deeply, often thinking how poor by comparison are the opportunities here for meeting and speaking to French people. The boys on the job here seem to be content to sit around playing cards every night. I hope we can finish this job soon. And the war too.”

Marian has just had a letter from Lad and is quite thrilled. His address is the same except that his APO number has been changed to 667 with cable address “Sans Origin”. For your information, Lad, Marian, whom you hope is “not unhappier then she need be”, is a continual ray of sunshine, and is making this a very happy household with Jean. They have just finished doing some marvelous cooking of cakes and cookies, and I think I shall dub them the “sunshine baker’s” with apologies to the Sunshine Baking Company of Long Island City or wherever it is.

In a few hours now it will be a new year. How I hope it will bring you all back safe and sound, with Peace in Europe at least. With all my heart I am wishing each of you a happy New Year. Dad

This concludes the letters I have from 1944. Tomorrow I’ll begin with the first letter of 1945 and then spend two days on the second letter.

Judy Guion

Dear Cedric – A Christmas Card From the Peabodys – December 18, 1944


CDG - Envelope from Christmas Card from Helen Human (front) - Dec., 1944

CDG - Envelope from Christmas card from Helen human (back) - Dec., 1944

CDG - Christmas card from Helen Human (front), Dec., 1944

CDG - Christmas card message from Helen Human (inside) - Dec., 1944

CDG - Christmas card from Helen Human (back) - Dec., 1944


Dear Cedric  —

Indirectly we’ve heard from you several times since we saw you last Christmas time. We always enjoy those carbons your dad sends out.

No one is no more as much surprised as we are to still be here. Ted expected to be in Bolivia weeks and weeks ago.

When are we going to see you again. Love from all of us

Aunt Helen and Uncle Ted

Our best to Rusty too.



And Dear Cedric  —

I just don’t know where my good intentions go ! Every time one of dad’s long “round-Robins” arrives, I say to myself, “I must write Cedric and Lad and Dave and Dick. And the first thing I know another letter has arrived from dad and I am saying the whole thing again  ! I never even thanked you for bringing down that wonderful load of wood last winter – and we did enjoy it so much !

Right now I am getting ready for a trip to Los Angeles ! I am just as surprised as you are ! It was all very unexpected and I am still trying to catch my heart. After I get there I’ll write you a real letter. In the meantime all my love – Aunt Dorothy

Tomorrow, and Wednesday, a letter from Grandpa to his boys. Thursday and Friday I’ll post the first letter of 1945.

Judy Guion 


St. Petersburg Adventure (3) – Thanksgiving was Awful! (1) – December 5 and 6, 1934


Having had a New England Thanksgiving dinner her whole life, Biss can’t quite accept spending the day at the beach. It just doesn’t feel right!

Elizabeth Westlin Guion and Mack

Wednesday, 3:45

Study Hall

December 5, 1934

Dear Dick,

You forgot to tell me about the Shrine Circus your teacher took you to see. What is your teacher’s name? I am still in seventh period. I was half a minute late yesterday so I

Elizabeth (Biss) Westlin Guion

have to stay one whole hour. Isn’t that the dumbest luck? I have been writing all afternoon and my hand is tired. That is why my writing looks so funny.

What became of that hut out by the playhouse? What were your marks in school? Marks close Friday down here, I think.

Thanksgiving was awful! We went to see Mr. Bailey but I don’t like him and then he took us to the beach. I don’t like the beach either. I saw a peachy collie at the hotel where Mr. Bailey stays. Mr. Bailey is going to spend Christmas with us too. Darn it. If Alfred would come down, which he wants, it would be all right for us kids and I suppose we must make the best of it because he likes Aunt Anne. She is going to see if Uncle Fred won’t come down. I only have 5 minutes of my seventh period left. Aunt Anne is going to call for me and then we are going to the movies. Dave can tell you what one we are going to see. I am sorry my reply has been so tardy but it takes time to write to each one of you and answer your letters. I want to glance over your letter and it is at home – please don’t call me Bets. How was Dick and Mrs. Boyce. Methinks I better write to them.




Thursday, 4:20 PM

December 6, 1934

Dining room

Dear Dad:

You certainly wrote a letter and a half. I will try to answer it fully. Right now Don and Billy are out in back playing marbles. Billy is a little boy who lives across the street. Gwen is out riding on her bicycle. Aunt Anne is over in Tampa at the Farmer’s. She is going to stay overnight so I am chief cook and bottle washer.

I wished that I was home for Thanksgiving. It didn’t seem at all holiday-ish to me. We got up early – 8:15 AM – and got the work done and took baths. At about 10:45 AM we got into the car and drove over to Tampa to Mr. Bailey’s hotel. We arrived at 11:15 and got into our bathing suits.

Then we drove over to the Farmers and waited while Mrs. Farmer and Mr. Bailey got ready. We waited there for about 15 minutes then went down to pick up Mr. Farmer who had to work at his office for a while. We then went to Clearwater to swim. Mr. Farmer changed into his bathing suit there. No one went in until Mr. Farmer was ready for everyone was tired and wanted to rest.

We stayed there until 5:30. I stayed on the beach until 3:30 and then went to the car and took a nap. I don’t like salt water and I don’t like Mr. Bailey so I had more fun in the car.

We went back to the hotel to change and Mr. Bailey took Mr. and Mrs. Farmer home and they changed. They got back in about half an hour. We then ate dinner – which was pretty good considering where we ate it – down in the dining room of Mr. Bailey’s hotel. In the middle of the dinner an old man came in with a collie and stayed for a minute – that was the best part of the whole meal.

By then it was about 7:30 PM so Don and Gwen went to bed or at least lay down on Mr. Bailey’s bed. They all went up two stories and had a get together. I stayed until 10 then went down to the lobby where a girl was sitting. I talked to her for a few minutes and then a boy came and took her out – thank goodness.  At 11 Aunt Anne decided to stay over so we registered and went to bed.

Next Saturday I’ll finish the letter Biss is writing to her Father concerning other happenings in Florida.

Judy Guion


St. Petersburg Adventure (2) – Dear Dad – The Lion And Football – November 14, 1934


My Aunt Bissie has been in St. Petersburg for about a month now and seems to be getting annoyed at the boys – and girls – who promised to write and haven’t. She starts her letter to Dick by trying to sound like a Southern Belle but gives up on that rather quickly. I guess it just wasn’t her style.

               Gwen Stanley

November 14th, 1934

Dear Dad,

I had too much ink on my pen. I ran out of paper so I had to buy this new paper so now I ain’t got no sense (cents) left. I am glad to hear that you will soon have your jury work over with although I suppose you will miss the money that you have been getting. I am glad Dick had a chance to go to the circus.  Gwen insists that there is a lion around here running loose because she heard it roar – it sounds to me like a cow in distress. She heard a dog yelp and has told everyone around here that it (the lion) ate the dog up because it stopped yelping.

Are all of you going down at once or into groups the way Mrs. Burnham suggested? I am sorry the well isn’t anymore, I thought it very picturesque and pretty. I’m sure if I had been at home I would’ve kicked up a big fuss so I think it’s just as well that I am down here.

Did it snow hard? I got a letter from Aunt Betty in answer to the one I sent her and have  written another one to her. I’ll have to look up the actors and actresses as I don’t know any. My brain isn’t working today anyway – which isn’t anything unusual. I have just finished giving my room its weekly cleaning and Aunt Anne now has to vacuum cleaner and is doing her room. As soon as I finish this letter I have to peel potatoes for the potato salad tonight.

I got your letter about 10 minutes ago, just before I finished my room. I sat down to answer it as soon as my room was finished and expect to have it start out for Trumbull in about an hour or an hour and a half. Tell Mr. Laufer to write to me and to tell Erwin to write to me. I got a letter from Si yesterday and I can’t think straight now – at least that’s what I told Si. I still think he is my favorite of the whole gang because he gets into so much mischief.



P.S. -I am going to the football game this afternoon. I hope we win.

Dear Dick – (Ricardo)

Ah have decided ta rest mah weary bones by sittin’ me down and writen ya a lettah. I pardoned ya pencil for I realize that may hap you haven’t any pen, Hey what? Or was it because you couldn’t find it? I’m very sorry you didn’t write sooner and I hope you will answer this one in record time. I am actually writing this the day after instead of the same day. I can imagine just how busy you have been lately. I didn’t cut on the dotted line like you asked me to but I showed the letter to him – what on earth took you 10 minutes between the time you wrote me and the time you wrote to Dan? I am sorry about your finger if you are but otherwise I didn’t worry. Has Ced built-up the snow house yet? I suppose you will help him with it – Dave too.

If you think I am nuts – I know you are NUTZ and seeing  as you demanded who won I won’t tell you !! So there— the score was Hillsboro: 13 and St. Petersburg: 7. We went to see another game but I don’t know what the score was. I just know that we lost. This Saturday we might go to see another game. Last night we were invited to tea by Cmdr. Berry of the Trenton – a cruiser (you know – next smallest to the battleship). He had a special motorboat sent over to get us and we ate in a little private dining room. I had both lemonade and tea. Gee, they were good – what crackers they served! Boy! Oh boy!! Oh Boy! Oh Boy! We also had cinnamon toast and little sandwiches. I’m writing this letter to you instead of doing my homework like I should be doing. I ran out of paper (writing) so I am using this school paper for you. I am in sixth period (study). Ask Mary if she got my letter and if she did, give her a bawling out for me. Show her this part of the letter or the whole thing if you want to.



P.S. – I noticed you had a great deal of trouble with your P.S.’s. Tell Art, Irv, Irwin, Eddie, Nellie and Elliot that they are either afraid of me or are bashful. Also tell them that they promised faithfully to write to me – before I left they told me that. So tell them I am still waiting patiently and getting gray-haired while waiting. Tell the girls to write again too.


Tomorrow, another letter about Bissie’s life in St. Petersburg. She seems to be adjusting quite well. We’ll be checking in on her every weekend.

Judy Guion