Trumbull – Dear Sons (3) – Bits and Pieces of Local News – May 30, 1939

Trumbull House - Grandpa and kids - 1928 (2) Little Driveway view - 1928

The Trumbull House

Page 3 of R-25

          It has dawned upon me on several occasions that some of the questions I have asked you in my letters from time to time have not rated replies so far.  Some of the inquiries were not just put in to fill up space, but are really some of the things I would like to hear about as they form sort of a blank spot in my knowledge of what you (are) doing.  So someday when you are not making up for lost sleep, and instead of going out for a walk where wild cows chase gringos, go over some of my old letters, if they have rated preservation, and pick out the unanswered questions as subjects for news to write home about.

I surmise from one of your recent letters that the rainy season is about starting.  Will that mean any delay in either of us getting mail?  Or is the road you so graphically described on your first trip open for transportation all the year ’round?

I feel sort of lost without feeling I am writing to Dan, but I have no idea where I should write to him.  This week I received his letter written May 8th, in which he says nothing about the airmail letter I got off to him so promptly giving him Ted’s idea of what he should do about resigning.  He says he is sending a man into Carora for mail, but my letters sent to Laguinallas should have reached him.  Now that we know he is coming home soon it is difficult to wait until he arrives.  I hope he will give us mailing addresses along the route home far enough in advance so we can have letters for him in various ports along the way.

The Merritt Parkway is now taking definite shape.  One day last week I traveled from the Trumbull line at Park Avenue all the way down to Westport.  Of course most of the way no concrete had been laid yet but the roadbed is practically (ready) for this operation.  They are building bridges over Trumbull Avenue, working on a cloverleaf entrance near Machalowski’s, have finished the bridge over Reservoir Avenue, and are working on bridges at Madison Avenue and Waller Road.

The Conn.  Legislature, which has only a few more days to run, is facing quite a fight over a bill to abolish compulsory inspection, one change suggested being to add fifty more state cops and have them stop folks on the road and if (the) car needs fixing, send them to a garage or testing station to have car inspected.  This will call for an additional charge of $.50 on each license as it is taken out.

The Coroner has found Charlie Hall not criminally liable for the death of the man he ran into, but his license has not been restored to him, and Benny Slauson has also had his license revoked because of a checkup he was found not to be carrying it with him.  Dick, so far, has gotten by without any trouble.  I hope he will profit by the experience of his buddies and drive with extra caution.

Tomorrow I will post the conclusion of this letter from Grandpa to Lad. 

Judy Guion


Trumbull – Family News and Car Troubles – Dec, 1939 (2)

1934 - 1940 Timeline

1934 – 1940 Timeline

This is the second half of the letter Grandpa wrote to Lad, in Venezuela, on December 10, 1939.

I think I shall have to spend a portion of the 50 bucks you sent me to fix up my car. I noticed the clutch has been slipping lately, not badly, but enough to indicate that it ought to be taken care of before it gets worse, but the worst is a short somewhere in the lighting circuit. I first noticed it the night when we were coming home from work about five o’clock. It was quite dark and on the way up Noble Avenue, with Dick at the wheel, suddenly all lights silently went black. The horn also refused to function but the engine ran O.K. We continued up to George Knapp’s place and, being a sort of a Boy Scout, I was prepared by having an extra fuse along. This Dick put in, we started and had gone about 5 feet when that fuse also blew. Aided by streetlights and other cars which we got behind and followed closely we got home all right. I mentioned taking it over to Arnold to have him look it over but Dick talked me into letting Ced take care of it. Ced looked it over, fooled around a bit and came in later telling me that he did not know what was the matter or what he had done but the lights worked O.K.

Thursday I left the office at five just at the rush hour which is a little worse than ordinary this time of year, and in order to avoid the worst of the traffic jams

Alfred D. Guion

Alfred D. Guion

Idecided to come home I way of Park Avenue where it intersects the Merritt Parkway and then on the Parkway to Rocky Hill Road. Everything went fine until nearing the Parkway at the end of Park Avenue where there were no streetlights and no moon, out went the lights again. Ahead of me I could see the lights from the passing cars on the Parkway, to reach which, however, I had to negotiate a winding road, down a steep hill through a cut alongside of the steam shovel with boulders strewn all around, incident to the building of a bridge across the Parkway. It was absolutely pitch black. I couldn’t stay where I was because the road was narrow and just a minute before I had seen the car come up from the Parkway and knew if another tried to do the same thing, I would be blocking the road and there was just a chance that ,with no lights and a crooked road, he might not see me. The only thing then was to go ahead cautiously the few hundred feet until I hit the Parkway and then try to keep behind some lighted car until I got to Main Street, Long Hill, from which I could go up to Doyon’s Garage and have him fix the lights.

So I started, trying to see the sides of the road. It was just as though I were driving with my eyes closed. Neither could I tell the speed of my car, although I thought I was going very slowly. Evidently, being a steep downgrade, I was going faster than I thought because, first thing I knew, I slammed bang into something which I afterwards surmised was a boulder, although I could not see it, the car careened way over, but did not upset, punctured the tire and bent the tie rod so that it was very difficult to steer. The engine had stopped but I got it going again, and not knowing I had a puncture, I felt it was all the more necessary to get to a garage as quickly as possible to get the car fixed up. I then tried another fuse which immediately blew. I then tried inserting my knife into the fuse slot but that got so hot, so quickly, that I gave up the idea of trying to get lights and decided to try crawling along again. I finally reached the Parkway and noticed my wheels were harder to steer than before, but naturally attributed it to the bent tie rod or bent axle or whatever else it was that was damaged. Cars went whizzing past me at 50 miles which is the speed limit, but naturally I did not feel it was either safe or possible to follow at this rate, so I tried to follow the white cement and stay on the road that way. There are yet no reflector buttons installed up there and even if there were, they would do me no good without lights. I got on all right I thought, but evidently there was a curve in the road that I did not see and the first thing I knew, the car slowed very suddenly and stopped. I had run off the road into the middle strip that they had just filled up with loam, and there I was up to the hub in fresh muddy earth. The car could go neither forward nor backward. It was then I discovered I had a flat tire. Well, I was off the road, anyway, without lights. This was on the Parkway about midway between Waller Road and Madison Avenue.

Cedric Duryee Guion

Cedric Duryee Guion

I looked around and saw a house with the light on beyond the Parkway fence about 700 feet off. Methinks I shall go over there and phone for Ced to tow me out with his car. So off I marched, but they didn’t have a phone and they told me no one in the neighborhood had a phone. I walked almost up to Beaches Corners before I found a house equipped with a phone, got Ced and met him near Edison School.

When we got back, there was a state cop inspecting my car. He asked me what the big idea was but was very nice after I explained why I was parked in such a place. He even went so far as to tell me I did the right thing by pulling off the road! Ced hitched on his chain, pulled me out without great difficulty while the state cop stood by his car to protect us from being rammed and also to give us some light. Ced then told me I could take his car home while he put on the spare and fixed the lights. He arrived home with the car a couple of hours later, telling me he had had difficulty steering it because the rod was bent about as far as it could be.

Oh, I forgot to say that just as I got in his car to come home, that too, pooped out. Ced did not believe it could be out of gas because he had just put in a couple of gallons a short time before. He put in the gas from my spare tank and then almost ran his battery down trying to get his vacuum tank full, but at last it started and I was on my way.

A MERRY DEATH Program - Dec, 1939

A MERRY DEATH Program – Dec, 1939

Mr. Doyon has the car now and will work on it tomorrow. I suppose, compared to the things you are up against, this little experience seems like kindergarten stuff to you — mere child’s play, but for a while it had me feeling sort of helpless. If it hadn’t been for Ced I would have been in the fix. No letter from you this week, but I’m hoping. Streets and stores are taking on their holiday dress. Weather has been calm. I have had a cold which I am trying to keep under control so that I can do my part in the play which is being given on the 15th and 16th. The Chandler Chorus broadcasted over WICC this morning and are singing in Wallingford this afternoon. So long until my next.


Poor Grandpa. What a story! This was probably not that unusual am experience with cars and roads back then. Cell phones certainly have made things quite a bit easier, haven’t they? Tell me about a nightmare experience you had with a car.

Tomorrow, we’ll be jumping ahead to Sept., 1940, where Dan and Ced are in Alaska and Lad is still in Venezuela.

Trumbull – A Surprise And A Cowboy? – Oct. 1939

In this weeks letter, Grandpa starts off with a  very mundane piece of information before getting to  some surprising news for Lad and the family is quite excited about it. He rounds out the letter with lots of news about everyone else before he runs out of steam.

October 22, 1939    

Dear Uncle Alfred:

I am starting this letter a little late today due to the fact that I have taken time out to fix the space bar on this typewriter which has been broken in two for some months and which was, I believe, the reason for the tendency to skip spaces which you undoubtedly have observed in former letters. Some time ago I did try to fasten the two pieces together with rubber insulation tape but that still allowed the bar to sag in the middle. Then I asked Dick to cement it with a hard rubber cement but that did not hold, so today I got an old hack saw blade, broke it in pieces of the proper length and using these as splints, fastened them in place with cloth adhesive tape so that, while it does not look especially neat, it seems to have been doing the trick, if the foregoing paragraph is any criterion.

Well, the big news of the week lies in the salutation above. I am a grandfather and you are an uncle, Grandma is a great grandmother, and Aunt

Elizabeth (Biss) Guion Zabel

Elizabeth (Biss) Guion Zabel

Betty is a great-great aunt. You have a nephew. Thursday evening after coming home from work I was looking for David to help with the supper and suspecting he might be in with Elizabeth I went into the apartment and there they both were listening to some comedian. Elizabeth was feeling chipper as ever. Late Thursday night however, Elizabeth began to have pains and because they were becoming worse and more frequent, she called up the hospital and they told her it didn’t mean anything. However, as time went on and she had no letting up, she finally decided to go to the hospital anyway at about midnight and about 2:30 AM Friday morning the little fellow arrived. Friday morning as I was shaving Ced came up with a big grin on his face, knocked  on my bathroom door and said, “Good morning, Grandpa”. Suspecting nothing, I didn’t show enough excitement to suit him whereupon he asked me if I had seen the note Zeke had left on the top of the stove downstairs? This note said, “Biss gave birth to a daughter this morning”. Both Zeke and I naturally told those interested that the baby was a girl. It was not until later in the day when I called at St. Vincent’s to see Elizabeth that she told me it was a boy. “It looks just like a little Dutchman,” she said. Both are doing very nicely.

Ced did not have to work yesterday so he started off at 7 AM to visit the World’s Fair. After that closed, he drove into New York and went to the automobile show. This morning he is all excited about the new Willys, which he feels is ace high this year. He even offered today to help me on payments for a new Willys if I would turn in the old on a trade and let him use it some of the time. If I make a killing in the stock market or something I might be tempted to do this as my old boat is getting to the point now where it is beginning to need frequent repairs and adjustments. It has gone over 30,000 miles and I suppose this is quite natural.

Dave wanted me to tell you that he noticed Wells has a new bus which was bigger than the regular buses and as it had a charter sign on it, he assumes it will be used for that purpose.

In another session of the adjourned town meeting held Friday night under Mr. Sexton’s leadership, they decided to refuse to select the report of the town officers.

Dick is down in the dumps today because yesterday Bassick lost (20 to 0) to Central. The Robinson’s have a young horse that they use for farm work that has been trained also to the saddle and Dick has been going up there after school several days a week and, with Aunt Elsie’s saddle, has been riding him around. He now thinks he would like to go down to Texas and be a cowboy.

So, you sort of got swindled on the watch, hey? You wrote in a previous letter that Boccardo went with you when you bought the watch so that you felt you not only got good merchandise but good prices also. Maybe it was just one of those things that no one could foresee. The main spring could not have been broken when they sold you the watch or it would not have gone an hour even. They will probably make it right under the circumstances. With good cameras selling around here for five and $10, it seems to me you must have a super excellent camera at the price you mentioned, which as I recall was $100. Maybe you meant 100 Bolivars.

Arnold "Gibby" Gibson

Arnold “Gibby” Gibson

Arnold came in yesterday afternoon, after having spent about eight weeks, mostly on his Aunt’s farm. Some of this time he spent trying to figure out the boundaries of the 6 acres that his grandmother left him. He went out with Alta. He asked if he could occupy the cottage until such time as I was able to rent it. He suggested five dollars a month but I pointed out I was paying for the electricity in view of which fact he said $7.50 would seem fair. His other alternative was to get a trailer that was for sale and live in that in Pratt’s backyard.

Just as I was getting dinner today Malcolm Baker, his wife and mother stopped in to see us. They were on their way to the cottage at Madison but it had started to rain so they decided to turn back. By the time they arrived here, however, it had stopped raining.

Aunt Betty is spending the week with her friends in Newburgh. I sent postals yesterday to Aunt Betty, Aunt Elsie and the New Rochelle folks. I have not heard from any of them yet.

I am just about at the end of my news tether. Ask me a few questions about things you would like to know and I’ll try to answer them a little more thoroughly than you have answered my various queries over the last several months. (The trouble with making statements like this last is that before you get it, you may already have made up for lost time and then one’s guilty conscience points its finger at you).

The Merritt Parkway is now practically finished as far as Nichols and for the last two Saturdays those traveling to and from the Yale football games have used one side. Now both sides have been completed although the planting in the center has not yet been started. There is also a bridge to be built over the Parkway at the continuation of N. Park Ave., and if the weather keeps up for a few months more, I assume the highway will be opened to traffic both ways, although not really finished. Then next year they expect to have the new bridge they are building over the Housatonic completed and the traffic which is now being dumped in Nichols will become the problem of Devon or whatever town the other end of the bridge enters.

And that exhausts the last bit of news that I can cudgel up, so my hearty, good night and take good care of my oldest son until we meet again.


I’ll continue with two more posts about friends and family in 1939 before moving on to Dan and Ced, the Klondike Kids, in Alaska in 1940. We’ll also be hearing more from Lad who is still in Venezuela.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Gifts, Football and Thinsies – Oct, 1939

The Old Homestead remains the center of activity with all the children, except Lad, living there. Biss and her husband, Zeke, are renting the apartment in the Main House and Arnold and Alta Gibson will be renting the cottage, at least for a while.  Various friends and family feel free to just “drop in” when convenient and Grandpa takes it all in stride.

October 14, 1939

Dear Laddybuck:

How many dry-cleaning establishments do they have in Pariaguan and do you know all of the young ladies in charge in each of them? You seem to

Lad Guion

Lad Guion

be making a collection of dry-cleaning girl clerks. I took a suit in one day to a place on John Street between the Plaza and Main Street and the girl asked about you, and today I called for a suit I had left at a new Goodwork place that has just opened in the building across the street from my office, formerly occupied by the Sherwin-Williams Company, and there too, the girl asked me if I live to Trumbull and was I your father. She said she had written to you some time ago and has not heard from you and would quit being your friend if you didn’t reply soon. Her name is Mildred Goldstein. Oui. Oui.

Right next door to this place is a tobacco shop who sold the two packages (50 each) of ivory-tipped Marlboro cigarettes which I yesterday delivered to Mr. Mullins with the request that he deliver them to Cecilia today. I also called up Mr. Lockley who promised to send today a nice bunch of chrysanthemums. I sent him two dollars with your note, so I am reporting that I have faithfully fulfilled my duties as your agent. In fact I feel just like Cupid, using cigarettes and bouquets instead of arrows.

Dick is quite thrilled today because at a football game yesterday Bassick beat Harding : 6 to 0. Dave is visiting the World’s Fair with his class from Whittier. Ced is asleep, having worked from 12 midnight to 12 noon today. (This, by the way, is Saturday P.M. My cousins from Norwalk just phoned they are coming up to see us tomorrow afternoon, which is my regular Laddie writing time, so I am getting in a few licks beforehand). Dan says there was a fellow working over on the Merritt Parkway gang who says he was a classmate of yours by the name of Pete DiNardo. He wants to be remembered to you.

You will probably have assumed from the above that I received a letter from you this week. I did. It arrived in record time too. It was dated October 4 and reached me on the 10th. My clipping bureau has the following collection of items for you. (1) Death of Fred Root. I have not learned the cause but assume it had something to do with the loss of his arm. (2) (don’t laugh at this one) announcement of winner of the crocheting contest in a shape of an old friend of yours, (3) picture of your Dad getting the evening meal, (4) account of last night’s town meeting.

~  !  @  #  $  %  ^  &  *  (  )  _  +  this marks a lapse of several days.

It is now Tuesday the 17th. The cousins came Sunday, we had a waffle-help-yourself supper with Burrough’s cider. Monday night I had to attend the Selectmen’s meeting because I am still the Third Selectmen, so tonight is the first opportunity I had of finishing your letter.

Your note written on the 11th reached me this afternoon. There is a manufacturer of crackers in this country who has recently put on the market a new cracker which he calls Thinsies. Without intending any criticism or appearing to be implying anything smacking of ungratefulness, when I felt the missive which reposed in PO Box 7 from Venezuela, Thinsies is the thought that popped into my mind. If you don’t hurry up and look back over those letters of mine and answer some of my questions pretty soon they won’t need answering – – they’ll be outlawed by the statute of limitations. Next time you write give me a schedule of what you do on a typical holiday. (I don’t suppose that psychologically, this is a very good time to suggest writing a long “catch-up” letter home, but that idea did occur to me).

Socony-Vacuum Company Committees - 1939

Socony-Vacuum Company Committees – 1939

You had not mentioned the club in any of your previous letters. I should like to hear more about it. Is it just

Socony-Vacuum  Club House  Committee - 1939

Club House
Committee – 1939

local with your camp or is it general throughout S. O. properties? I suppose the flying red horse is your club insignia. What office do you hold beside membership on the Board of Governors? What equipment have you got? Maybe the books I send down from time to time, you can contribute as your share of initiating a library.

That must have been some shower! When you have big storms and thunderstorms there ain’t no fool ‘n about ‘em, is there? I was much interested in your comment about the way they are so soon forgotten after the terror and panic of the occurrence is a few hours old. It explains something I have wondered about – – why it is that people living at the base of an active volcano who have seen their property or relatives destroyed, go right back a few weeks after it is all over and start over again in the same spot. People are sometimes like animals or insects. The spider will start weaving his web in the same spot it has been brushed away a few minutes before and will apparently keep on repeating the performance. Experience may be a great teacher but the pupils also must have some intelligence.

The last few days have been quite cold. I am trying to hold off lighting the furnace as long as possible, as I still owe over $200 on last year’s coal bill and the loss of the Selectmen’s income makes living expenses a serious problem. (I’m not going to draw on your money that you sent home more than the $50 you arranged for first, as there will always be something that it could be spent for and to take advantage of a very indulgent and generous son is unfair and too selfish, so, short of a dire necessity and stark emergency, the balance of your check from now on will go into your savings accounts). I mention this because otherwise you might think my remark was a hint that you should again offer to come to the rescue. As long as I keep my health we can muddle through some way without encroaching on your future.

Well so much for my Thinsie, which is twice as thicksie as yours, so nya, nya.

Shall be interested to know what Cecelia thought of her flowers and cigarettes.


Tomorrow’s post contains a special surprise. I’ll be posting two more letters after that from 1939, the last being a rather newsy letter from Aunt Helen Human, Arla’s sister and the wife of Ted Human, who originally hired Lad and Dan to work in Venezuela.

After that, we’ll check in on the two boys in Alaska in 1940, for several posts, before jumping to 1943 and finding out what’s new with Lad and Marian.

For FREE copies of New Inceptions Magazine, an e-magazine, with several articles and stories based on letters and memories of my family, prior to and during World War II, you can click the following links.

Issue 1   Click Here

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If you are enjoying these stories, pass them along to your friends and family members so they can relive their own memories of this “Slice of Life”.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Welcome Home Dan (1)

Grandpa gives his usual interesting account of Dan’s homecoming in a rather unusual way. He tries to make each letter a little different and he succeeds with this one completely.

August 6, 1939

Dear soloist:

You are now representing the Guion family of Trumbull in the continent of South America all by yourself. Dan returned home Tuesday as per schedule. He looks just the same. He is not anywhere near is tanned as I expected him to be; in fact he had more of a tan when he was working on the Merritt Parkway then he has now. But I better start at the beginning and tell you all about it.


As Ced’s factory was not working Tuesday, I arranged through the Bridgeport City Trust Company Travel Bureau to get passes for Ced, Dick and Dave. As Helen and Barbara Plumb also obtained passes to meet the boat I invited the two Plumb’s to go down in my car. Dick drove. Ced gathered a party consisting of Donald Whitney, Dick Christie, Redd Sirene and Jean Hughes whom he drove down in the Packard. We were unable to ascertain just when on Tuesday morning the boat would dock, but being informed that it was usually about 9 AM and knowing that Ted’s boat arrived between 9 and 10, we left Trumbull about 7:30. I had written Aunt Betty and Aunt Elsie about Dan’s arrival, and I thought possibly Ted and Helen might also be on hand.

Chapter 2 – THE ARRIVAL:

We reached Pier 57 a little after nine and pulling up to the entrance, I noticed trunks being wheeled out into taxis and a few inquiries revealed that the boat had docked about

Dan Guion in Venezuela

Dan Guion in Venezuela

8 AM and practically everyone had passed through Customs and had gone. While we were deciding whether or not to go up and look for Dan, he appeared in person. Luckily, he told us, Aunt Betty and Aunt Elsie had arrived in time, but naturally he was disappointed that the rest of us had not been there to see him come in. He got through Customs without any question although he did have some seeds, etc., which were not supposed to be admitted. We packed Dan’s baggage into the two cars and started for Trumbull via the Merritt Parkway, arriving home at noon.

Chapter 3 – TROPHIES

Skins of five or six different varieties of snakes, one a rattler which Dan almost stepped on, a sloth pelt, pelts from a small tiger and other quadrupeds, a collection of butterflies and moths, different kinds of wood, a collection of homemade canes, odd stones, a tom-tom drum and other noisemakers, a crude homemade firle apparently made from a section of gas pipe and odd pieces of tin and Springs, a Muzzle Loader fired with percussion caps, sundry coins and about $10 worth of undeveloped films.


Max failed to keep his promise about paying the two month’s salary before Dan sailed, claiming that “the friend” who had promised to loan Max the money to pay Dan was out of town, but he did give him a draft which was to be presented at the New York office, for this two month’s pay, which however, Dan was not to present to Mr. McCarter until he been notified that the funds were there to meet it. He did get $160 in cash for his fare home. I am of course very skeptical about the outcome, but Dan, while holding no brief for Max, does feel that Max is intending to pay them back salaries and that his side of the story, divorced from Ted’s bitter prejudice, makes Max not as bad as he has been painted. From what Dan says, the rumpus started by complaints from “the Senator from Connecticut” is the thing that is worrying Maxi most right now, and I intend to keep him worried along that line until the whole business is cleared up. Max feels very friendly towards Dan and the way I think we ought to play it is that Dan, working in Maxi’s interest, is doing his best to get me to call off the dogs but I am one of those pigheaded father’s and refuses to be satisfied, and Dan can do nothing with me on that basis. We will have to wait and see how it works out.

Tomorrow, I’ll post the rest of the letter which include Dam’s future plans, Mack’s reaction to a snake skin a geography lesson and Grandpa’s usual dry wit.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Lad’s Best Friend

Arnold Gibson was Lad’s best friend and he joined the older boys on many adventures, including the trip to the Chicago World’s Fair. I think you’ll be able to figure out one of the reasons why they were best friends. They kept in touch with letters several times a year while Lad was in Venezuela.At this point, he’s been there for a year.

January 4, 1940                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Arnold Gibson

Dear Laddie,

My card made a bum start, but I hope it finally reached you.

Well, I’m fairly familiar with your doings via your letters to your Dad. I go over and get him to read some of them now and then. However, a lot has happened around here that may be news to you.

Anne Holt was married in September and has a nice little cottage on a pond over between Nichols and Shelton.

My folks have moved over to a place near the river between Shelton and Stratford, and I am boarding at Pratt’s. Alta and I became engaged this New Year’s.

Last summer I worked a couple of months with contractors on the Merritt Parkway at good pay, and so saved enough for a nice trip up into Maine and Canada. I worked in the woods first, and then on the wagon rock drills and bulldozers. By the way the Parkway is now open from New York to Nichols, so it’s a cinch to drive to the city.

This is spring I got a nearly new, slightly damaged canoe, which I repaired and made a rack on “Nomad” for, so with a two speed rear end, new oil pump, fog, reverse, cab, and clearance lights, and numerous other new improvements. “Old Nomad” was in great shape for the trip.

We (Alta and I) took off at around noon one day after a couple of false starts due to a lost knife, and a leaky oil line, and spent two months around New England stopping at various relative’s homes and American Youth Hostels. You may have heard of the latter, it is a fine organization of several million persons to further travel in the great outdoors, and provide Hostels with proper accommodations (rough and ready ones) and chaperones at convenient overnight stops. It is also international.

Well, we had a great trip, all in all, with many minor adventures and only a few mishaps.” Nomad” performed nobly with only a broken front spring and relapsed generator to her discredit in 2400 miles. Oh yes, she has the speedometer now too.

I worked for Ruby for two weeks and also cleared the lines around the piece of land I have up there. I had to dig up an “oldest resident” to help find the ancient markers, and do the rest with compass and axe as the deed was written in terms of long dead persons. What a time!

We really swarmed all over Mount Katahdin this time, spending four days at it. You remember the little Chimney Pond in the bottom of the gulf we looked into from the summit? Well, on its shore are a cabin and some shelters operated by one Mr. Dudley, who is certainly a real character, and what yarns he spins by the fire at night! There were around six or eight people there and the women and food were kept in the cabin at night, as several bears, one monster, came messing around every night, and we got a swell chance to watch them.

We fell in with a couple of fellows from Boston and after much debate borrowed Dudley’s Alpine rope, and climbed the Chimney Trail which is really just a gully which runs up the nearly perpendicular head wall for around 4000 feet, and contains among other hazards ice and three nearly impossible choke stones (boulders). The 4000 feet (and return) from the top by an easy(?) trail took all day, and in one place we hoisted Alta 40 feet up an overhang, but when it was done we were really proud of ourselves.

We visited Rusty’s Spring Island in our canoe and had a great time in general, in spite of much rain, and even snow (in the middle of September in Canada), and got home with only one flat.

Three days after we got home I went to work in the Stanley Works. I run a machine which cuts steel up into strips for razor blades. The work is steady and the pay pretty good, but it is pretty dull. Cecelia still has not gotten her new Ford that was promised for December 15.

Have you heard about Cedric’s ’33 Plymouth that he got in New York for $50? I did a very complete motor overhaul on it, and it runs fine except that I can’t get quite as much oil pressure as I would like in spite of new gears and main and a rod bearings.

I just did a valve and carbon job on my Packard and she runs like new. Well almost. For extremely cold starts or low battery, I have a hot shot battery and master coil (Ford) independent of the regular system.

Laddie, I’d like to hear about the various conveyances you people use, and the engines you work on, and all that sort of thing. And when do you think you may be home again? I had Spring Replacement put two front springs in your Packard the other day.

Let me hear from you!

Your friend


Did you figure it out? All that talk about vehicle maintenance gave it away, didn’t it. That was one love they shared. Arnold and Alta purchased, at some point a little island, very near Rusty’s island, which my family used from the mid-20’s and eventually bought.Learn more about that in my post “A Piece of Liquid Heaven” on 11.6.2012.

To check out my web page,    Click Here

Judy Guion