Trumbull – Dear Sons of the North, East, South and West (2) – News From Ced and Dick – July 23, 1944

This is the second half of the letter posted on Wednesday. He ends with personal notes.

 

Ced @ 1945

Cedric Duryee Guion

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

Recently when I have been quoting letters received from you boys, I have felt a sense of something lacking in not being able to include anything from Dick. Of course there is a reason why he doesn’t often write to the old man, and so, with Jean’s cooperation, I am giving below a few extracts from his recent letters which she is kindly dictating as I write:

?????????????????????

Dick, Richard Peabody Guion

Jean (Mrs. Richard) Guion

Jean (Mortensen), Mrs. Richard Guion

From his letter of July 11. “The warm season here lasts longer than summer in the states, but I don’t think it gets as hot. It very seldom goes higher than 90°. The weather we are having now is really very nice. There is a constant cool breeze blowing that makes living a little more bearable. The cool season lasts only about four months though. (This is in Fortaleza on the northern coast of Brazil). The job I have now is the best one I have had since I left Alaska. I work in the Civilian Personnel Office. We have to keep all the records, passes and payrolls for all the Brazilians who work at the base. The Civilian Personnel Officer is first Lieut. Lineham and the best officer I have yet found to work for. Whenever he has anything he wants me to do he just gives me the material and a few simple directions and from there on I fill in all the details and do the work the way I think it should be done. The system is very satisfactory for both of us because he gives it to me and just forgets about it until the work is due. So far our relations have been quite blessed. I have done everything in a satisfactory manner and he seems to have faith in my ability. We have one other person in the department – – a Brazilian who makes up the payroll and handles most of the heavy work. I’ll probably stay down here until shortly after the European war is over and after all the planes go back to the states this place will be closed and I will come home, I hope.”

And now a few words of not much account except to the one addressed.

Dave: The clippings I have sent for the last few weeks are weekly reviews of what events have transpired during the past week as reported in the Warden’s (the family renting the apartment) copy of the New York Tribune. I sent them because once you asked me what was going on in the war, that you seldom received any news there, so I figured this would be better than my personal summary. You have not yet answered my inquiry as to whether the notebook fillers for your friend were received. The leggings and tie went off to you last week by parcels post.

Dick: Next time you write to your “pride and joy” after receipt of this, would you please help me out of my dilemma by writing a list of a few of the things it would be possible for me to send to you by mail as a token of my rejoicing at your birthday, as I have already wasted many hours and will otherwise waste many more searching hungrily through this store and that trying to discover some gift that might be welcome to you.

Dan If you have time and opportunity someday why not drop a penny postcard to Ernest Woolard, Bucksburn, Aberdeenshire, Scotland, and tell him where you are in the chance that he might be able to look you up.

DAD

Tomorrow, The next installment in the Voyage to California by John Jackson Lewis. On Sunday, My Ancestor, Grandpa, Alfred Duryee Guion. On Monday, I’ll continue telling Grandpa’s life story in his own words, as he recorded them in Reminisceneces of Alfred D Guion.

Judy Guion

Advertisements

Trumbull – Dear Sons of the North, East, South and West (1) – News From Dave and Trumbull – July 23, 1944

Grandpa (Alfred D Guion) and his sister, Elsie May Guion

Trumbull, Conn.  July 23, 1944

Dear Sons of the North, East, South and West:

Having gone to the well of inspiration for ideas to incorporate in this missive and finding it dry, I have had to resort to sort of a priming process and have turned back the pages to see what you were all doing in former years. About this time in 1942 I find Lad was just starting in teaching diesel engineering at Aberdeen; Dan was rumored to be shortly going to Hagerstown; Ced was short of tennis balls and Dick and David were both home. In late July 1943, Dick was about to sail from New Orleans, Jean had just gotten back home from Indianapolis, Ced was recuperating from his first fire burns, Dan was still in Indiantown Gap but all packed ready to go, I having recently visited him for a farewell visit. Lad was in California and had just been assigned to engine tuneup work. Marian’s name begins to appear frequently in his correspondence. Barbara was thinking of joining the WAAC.

Dave writes he has now been assigned to a new company, Co. D, 31st Sig., Trng. Bn., ASFTC. He says: “My new company is absolutely A-1 except for the chow. The food isn’t too good but I understand that it has been pretty poor recently all throughout the post. The fellows I’m with on the whole, are a much nicer bunch that any gang I’ve been with yet. Sunday I sprained my wrist and I don’t know how I did it. I’ve got it wrapped now and it is as good an excuse as any for the poor job I’m doing tonight on the typewriter. We took a long hike last night – – the first I’ve taken since that week I left for home. We walked some 12 or 14 miles with light field pack, gas mask and rifle. I don’t mind telling you that I was pretty tired when I got back. Did I go right to bed then? No. Now that it’s summer down here we have to be mighty careful of chiggers and ticks. When we’ve been out in the field now we come in and strip, take a shower and while in the shower room, we go over each other – – like monkeys in the zoo – – and take off any chiggers and ticks. All the boys in my barracks love to sing so we do quite a lot of it. We seem to have an equal number of rebels and Yankees so we go over this problem every so often.”

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

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

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

Tomorrow I’ll post the rest of this letter to Grandpa’s sons in all directions.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Convalescents (3) – Extract from Dave and Grandpa’s News – July 16, 1944

This is the last section of a rather long letter from Grandpa. He does quite a job on bringing everyone up to date on the local news . The first and second parts were posted on Monday and Tuesday, the 4th and 5th.

 

DPG - with Zeke holding Butch

Extract of DPG: (David Peabody Guion) While I am waiting orders to be moved I’m working in the supply room of the company. They were short of men – – the supply clerk being on furlough – – so the first Sgt. asked me if I would mind working here instead of going to school. I said I would (or rather wouldn’t mind) and so I’m living the life of Riley, as you can see (I’ve got time to get off a few letters). I like this work – – you never know what is going to come up next. The supply sergeant is out in the company area most of the time making an inventory of all the company equipment so that leaves me in charge of the supply room.

Now for a few unexciting home commonplaces. It has been very hot and humid here for about three weeks steady, no rain, so that the grass is parched and brown like you may recall it has looked in times past in the middle of August. Today however, we had a brief windstorm with a small shower. This cools the air off but it is still humid.

I suppose you read about the terrible Barnum and Bailey fire at Hartford where the tent caught fire and because of the gasoline- paraffin waterproof mixture used in waterproofing, burned so completely and quickly that many people, including children lost their lives – – some so badly disfigured they were buried unidentified. The circus has returned to its winter quarters in Florida. I mention this because just a few weeks previously Elizabeth took her two youngsters to the same circus held in the same tent here in Bridgeport.

It is Jean’s birthday tomorrow but we celebrated it here in the usual manner, today, Biss being in attendance with her two little boys. (Zeke was attending a company outing).

Barbara (Plumb) has recently had a furlough in Italy and is now a Corporel.

Jean (nee Hughes) is home again in Trumbull.

I recently disemboweled the extracting mechanism of the furnace Stoker and found the two worms that eject the ashes have worn down to such an extent that the spiral fins are almost nonexistent being worn practically flush with the axle which turns them. I have ordered new worms but your guess is as good as mine whether I’ll be able to obtain them at all, or at least in time for the winter season. Toward the last of the season the firebox was continually filled with ashes and if the worst comes to worst I may have to put back the old grates and use the blower again.

Carl is on a big new tanker that has just taken a load of oil or gas to the far Pacific (Australia or New Zealand) and is on his way home again. The Bushey’s have moved into the little house opposite the Green where Danny Wells used to live. Coming down the hill approaching the Merritt Parkway overpass on Reservoir Avenue the other afternoon on my way home, and rolling at about 35 or 40 my right front tire suddenly blew out, twisting the wheel sharply to the right, so that I almost hit two posts guarding a culvert. Unfortunately I had no jack, so I had to walk some distance before I could find a phone and ask Ed Dolan to send his emergency car to the rescue. Now I am applying for a new tire. No jacks seem to be for sale anywhere in Bridgeport and the ones I have evidently are beyond repair, so California or Mo. P.X., please take notice.

Aunt Betty sends love, so does Jean, and as for me, well, you might know what to expect from                                        DAD

Tomorrow and Friday, another letter from Grandpa to his absent sons and daughter-in-laws.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Dear Convalescents (1) – Extracts From Dan and Ced – July 16, 1944

 

This letter from Grandpa to his scattered flock contains excerpts from letters he has received in the last week. It is quite a collection and it will take two days to finish the letter. Enjoy.

 

Trumbull, Conn., July 16, 1944

Dear Convalescents:

As your medical advisor I am recommending this week a full dose of extract of Guion, consisting of vitamins DBG, CDG, MIG a substitute for APG, (at the moment unobtainable) and DPG, to be taken with a little water, before, after or between meals.

Extract of DBG. (Daniel Beck Guion) (July 3, London) Gone completely is the idyllic lull about which I wrote so enthusiastically a few weeks past, and in its place has come a period which keeps us too much on our mettle to indulge in languid philosophy. Now we are engulfed in a realism which focuses war in sharp, unmistakable images, exciting… significant… decisive. The none too subtle curtain of the sensor must set as a haze filter to your perception, but one day soon I shall entertain you all with tall tales of “what Dan did in the war” – – and I promise it won’t be too boring. Thoroughly hail and equally hearty, Dan

 

Extract of CDG: (Cedric Duryee Guion) Anchorage almanac. Weather today clear, Sun rises before I get up, sun sets about bedtime. Hours of darkness, practically none. Temperature, good for swimming. Hospitalization notice: One 37 Buick seriously ill of spinal meningitis and requiring extensive surgery for return to active health. Medicines unobtainable in Alaska due to shortage of equipment as of war necessities. An emergency requisition has been placed requesting necessary herbs and tonics. The transmission, after a long and quarrelsome disturbance, accompanied by groans of pain for the last three months, finally had a hemorrhage and was partially paralyzed. Low, second and reverse suffered complete collapse of the motovaty nerves and left poor high badly overburdened, thus affecting composure of chauffer. While injury seemed trivial at first, treatment proved unobtainable and a major catastrophe developed. Patient was unavoidably retired from active service and in lieu of treatment, it was determined that further long-standing elements must be treated and so the heart was removed for observation and repairs. Tragically enough, this disclosed more faults that required unobtainable replacements. Now patient is interned in isolation ward until Pistons, transmission parts and other odds and ends can be obtained. Another birthday come and and gone with a very pleased recipient of gifts from home. McDonald’s had a little supper party with cake and candles. My burns (ha ha) have nearly disappeared (all signs of them, I mean). They turned out not half as bad as the other ones did, and I lost only three days work. I finished my course, took the CAA test and made an average of 86 which was up near the top of those grades received by the other students. Now I just need flying time and lots more of it. Can’t you picture me up high in the sky peeking around behind a cirrus cloud to see if the dew point is anywhere near the base of the cloud, or flying blind into the side of the next mountain only to discover I’d forgotten to correct for easterly deviation, and neglecting at the same time to consider the wind drift. Ah. Me, I wonder if I’ll ever get to use any of your laboriously gleaned aeronautical knowledge. Incidentally, if you want to get a good education in meteorology, as it is affected by weather, and get it in an easy to take form, get the book “STORM” from Mrs. Ives, or from the library. It has humor, pathos, drama, suspense and human interest all woven around the birth, growth and passing of a storm and its effects on men and their puny works.

Tomorrow, I’ll be posting the middle section of this letter with excerpts from Ced and Marian. On Wednesday, excerpts from  Dave along with Grandpa’s usual home town news. On Thursday and Friday, another letter from Grandpa.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Extracts from the Diary of Alfred D. Guion (2) – July 18, 1943 – The Mountain Went to Mohammed

This is the second half of a letter from Grandpa to his four sons who are all in service to Uncle Sam.

Daniel (Dan) Beck Guion

Daniel Beck Guion

Thursday, July 15.

Up betimes this morning – a bit after 5 AM to be exact, because this was to be the day when the mountain went to Mohammed. Dan has been consistently evading accepting furloughs that his C. O. has been trying to force upon him on numerous occasions lately, and I made up my paternal mind that I wouldn’t let him get away with it any longer but would seek Daniel in his den, so off I goes to Lancaster. From 1:34 until 7:00 I tramped the country surrounding Lancaster without even seeing one lion, even less Dan, finally learning that his whole outfit had been moved, bag and baggage, to a rumored place about 40 miles distant. With tired heart and sinking feet (or vice versa), but with the old Guion spirit which refuses to be licked, I started to trail T-5 and at 9:30 that night, after sampling bus transportation in Pennsylvania, I arrived at a Service Club in Indiantown Gap (an exact replica, Lad, of the Service Club in Aberdeen) and was tapped on the shoulder and a level (or transit) voice inquired if my surveying of the premises indicated I was searching for anyone in particular. And who do you suppose it was? Right! We never decided who was the more surprised, and I guess we’ll never know. I stayed in his barracks that night by permission of the Sgt., ate a  soldier’s breakfast at six something and after a nice long talk, in which I forgot to ask several things I had come down to find out about (one was what disposition Dan wanted made of his auto which is standing unused in the backyard), I took the 10 AM bus on my return journey (Dan’s time was up anyway), and after transportation delays and journeys in air-conditioned cars which weren’t conditioning, finally arrived back home a bit after 8 PM. Dan expects to be shipped out soon, but when or where is a deep, dark secret.

Saturday, July 17.

Aunt Anne phoned to ask if it would be all right for her and Gwen to come up to stay over with Aunt Dorothy. Gwen, it seems, is with her mother in New Rochelle for the summer but expects to go back to school in Vermont in the fall. Today was Jean’s birthday, which she spent with her family in Stratford.

Sunday, July 18.

Due to being back on the old kitchen detail, I have to divide my Sunday time now, once again, to getting dinner and trying to do odd jobs around the house. Today

I wanted to do some repairs on the old washing machine and also get the laundry tubs in working condition, but had time only for the latter. And I didn’t get the grass cut either. (Dave was busy praying for his father who failed to keep holy the Sabbath day). Carl is now in the Merchant Marine, but can’t land the kind of job he wants because of his colorblindness, so he says he may be peeling potatoes or doing any other job where it won’t matter if things are pink or purple. Barbara is being given a farewell party tonight by the young people. I was invited and intended to go, but it was so late when the Aunts finally got away and I needed a shave and had not written my weekly blurb (even now it is 10:20 and the shave is still to be) and I haven’t had any supper, and it’s getting near the end of the page so I’ll end this now.

Your faithful

DAD

Tomorrow, a letter from Bissie to her older brother, Ced, in Alaska.  On Saturday, the next installment of the Diary and Journal of John Jackson Lewis and his Voyage th California. On Sunday, in my series, My Ancestors, a post about Alfred Beck Guion, my great-grandfather. 

If you are enjoying these letters from an earlier time, please share them with others you think might also enjoy them. If you click FOLLOW VIA EMAIL and enter your email address, each post will automatically be delivered to your inbox. Now how easy is that???

Judy Guion

Trumbull – Extracts from the Diary of Alfred D. Guion (1) – July 18, 1943 – The Circus and a Medal

Grandpa’s creative juices were again flowing freely and this week’s letter takes the form of a Diary, including all the interesting things that happened during the week. He actually ends up including just about everyone in the family – and even one that isn’t yet!

Extracts From The Diary of One Alfred D Guion

of Trumbull Connecticut For The Week

Ending July 18, 1943

Monday, July 12.

Little did I realize when the sun peeked into my bedroom window that this was to be circus day for me, but such it proved, for just before noon Elizabeth phoned to say she planned to take Butch and Marty to “The Greatest Show on Earth”, and was seeking someone to accompany her as assistant child tender. The Big Top was stifling hot, Marty was restless and during the lull between acts fell through the seats to the ground about 2 feet down, injuring his pride, which fact he boldly proclaimed to one and all. While no lady clown was on hand to search for the missing Alfred (This sounds like a reference to an event that took place when my father was a child, but sadly, this is the only reference I have found and there is no one to verify what happened.), many of the acts were reminiscent of those other times when my own little tots laughed at the antics of the clowns, the fire and the men perched atop of innumerable tables and chairs who swayed back and forth until the laws of gravity intervened. After the show nothing would do but the boys must each have a balloon, which, filled with gas, floated appealingly in the air at the end of a string. Not 2 seconds after Marty received his and before Elizabeth could grab the string, Marty shoved his balloon upward. It went sailing gaily up over the telegraph wires and on its way over towards Lordship to cavort with Sikorsky helicopters. Marty was so surprised he didn’t even cry. A replacement was at once secured which we then tied to each youngsters waist.

 

Cedric Duryee Guion

Tuesday, July 13.

PO Box 7 this morning disgorged a letter from Jean – terse but newsy: “Just a line to let you know I’ll be home Wednesday, July 14. Dick was shipped this morning”. Later a postcard came from “private” (if you please) Richard, APO 4684, Miami Florida. Jean told me afterward that he had been demoted, temporarily she believed, because one morning he overslept, and his C. O. felt it was necessary, for the sake of discipline, to make an example of someone and Dick was elected.

But there was another letter in the box, all in red from arson Ced, telling of his method of celebrating Independence Day in Alaska, recalling the fact that this was the first time a fourth of July celebration had been held since the 12 days after he and Dan arrived in Anchorage. Woodley is running in a streak of hard luck. A new pilot just cracked up another of their planes.

 

       Jean (Mrs. Richard) Guion)

Wednesday, July 14.

Jean appeared with a coat of Indianapolis tan, and found awaiting her in Trumbull, a reception committee consisting of her mother, Marilyn, Natalie, (her two sisters) Grandma and Aunt Betty. Since then Jean has been getting her room to rights and getting used to her life as an Army widow.

 

Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad)

While the great transportation arteries of the country were doing their duty by Jean, Postmaster Walker was doing his stuff in the way of a letter from Lad. As the fellow who invented “near-beer” was said to be a poor judge of distance, so Lad seems to have difficulty getting his time right. He writes as of Wednesday night, but on the next page says it is 4:15 AM. Back to your old tricks again, hey, you night hawk! It was mighty good to hear from you just the same, Sgt., and I hope you’ll start a bit earlier (or later) next time and enlarge a bit more on what you are doing. You have a way of writing about things, giving details that make very interesting reading. If Marian knew what nice people we were back here in Trumbull, she’d grant you an hour or so of grace. This isn’t to be construed as complaint because you have been mighty good at writing. I have sons who do lots worse. The following is quoted from a column appearing in the Bridgeport paper headed IN UNIFORM: (I don’t know where they get the information.)

GUION GETS MEDAL

Sgt. Alfred P Guion, son of

                        Alfred D Guion of Trumbull Connecticut,

              won a Marksman’s Medal for rifle

                              shooting recently at Camp Anita, California.

Tomorrow I’ll post the rest of this letter about other family members.

Judy Guion

 

Trumbull – TRUMBULL SUNDAY CLARION – July 11, 1943

My Grandpa’s gifts with words, printing and advertising all came together this particular Sunday and we are the recipients of those gifts. This is the “letter” he sent out to his sons scattered around the world. Lad, the oldest, is in Camp Santa Anita in California,  training auto, truck and diesel mechanics for the Army; Dan, next in line, is in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, awaiting transfer to London with the rest of his Civil Engineering Unit;  Ced, son number three, is in Alaska working at Woodley’s Airfield, which has been taken over by the military, working as an airplane mechanic and bush pilot; and Dick, son number four, is in Indianapolis, awaiting transfer to who-knows-where.

I’ll give you a little background information on each of the stories.

Trumbull Sunday Clarion, July 11, 1943

                      T R U M B U L L   S U N D A Y   C L A R I O N 

Sunday, July 11, 1943

“Novel News for Native Nomads Needing Nourishment for Nerves”

COOKS VACATION ENDS

Guion Resumes K.P. Duties

_______________

Due to the fact that Mrs. Peabody has been feeling slightly under the weather, and it seemed wiser for her to assume as little ordinary work as possible, the former chef smilingly don’s his erstwhile apron and tackles the meal getting chores. Lamb and prune whip on today’s menu are prepared in usual form and proclaimed as up to the best former standards. Miss Dorothy Peabody,  who visited Trumbull again this week and reports having rented as of August 1, a larger apartment and as soon after that date as can be arranged,  she expects to have her mother living with her again in New York.

Mrs. Peabody is the Grandma referred to in many of the letters. She is Grandpa’s (Alfred Duryee Guion’s) mother-in-law, the mother of Arla, his wife, who passed away in 1933 after a long battle with cancer. That event was the lynch-pin that set all of the events in the letters in motion.

________________________

  PERSONALS

________________________

D. Guion has just reported another near miss in securing furlough. We’ll keep on trying, he stated recently.

June and July issues of Alaska Sportsman arrived this week – – gift of C. Guion. Thanks, Ced.

Mrs. R. Guion reports still building Army morale, particularly among the M.P.’s in Indianapolis.

No postage stamps were on sale at the Anchorage or Arcadia post offices  recently. Is Rationing Board added again?

It is rumored that Sgt. Guion is trying to arrange matters so that he can spend his vacation furlough with friends in Trumbull. Reception Committee tents.

Miss Anna Rakowski recently died of a heart attack.

Poppa is well, Aunt Betty is well, Dave is well. All send greetings and await mail. The Box is No. 7

D. Guion refers to Dan, in Pennsylvania, who is trying his hardest to get a furlough to travel the 250 miles home for one last visit before he heads overseas.

C. Guion has subscribed to the Alaska Sportsman for his father, possibly to give him a better idea of what life is like in the northern territory.

Mrs. R. Guion is Jean, Dick’s wife, who has followed her MP husband from Miami to Indianapolis and will follow him until he is sent overseas, when she will return to Trumbull to stay in the family homestead.

Sgt. Guion refers to Lad, in California, who is trying to plan a furlough to travel across the country to visit family and friends.But, as it always is with the military, you don’t know anything until it actually happens, particularly during a war.

I have no idea who Miss Anna Rakowski was.

At this point in time, Papa (Grandpa), his Aunt Betty and youngest son Dave are the regular residents in the Trumbull house, since Grandma is supposed to leave in a couple of weeks.

B. PLUMB BECOMES WAC-Y  

Local Organist successfully

Passes Examination

_____________

Passing both physical and mental test with flying colors, local Trumbull girl will soon leave for training,  having resigned her business position in Bridgeport. Miss Evelyn Hughes will replace Miss Plumb as organist of the local Church. The latter started to duties today and performed her duties well.

Barbara Plumb is Dan’s girlfriend and has been for a while.  The brief article tells the rest.

CAROL ELIZABETH WAYNE 

Moves to Trumbull

Likes her New Home

___________

After a short sojourn in the Bridgeport Hospital, the young lady, with little persuasion from her father and mother, decided to permanently locate on Daniels Farm Road. Her father spent the day sailing together with Paul Wardenand Walter Mantle, to Port Jefferson. Father Carl, anticipating an early call to the colors has enlisted in the Merchant Marine, and leaves for his new duties, Wednesday. No information has yet been announced as to what will become of the gas station which Mr. Wayne has been conducting. His father recently has been aiding in the work. However with the stringent gas rationing, is becoming increasingly difficult to find gas station personnel.

Her father, a close friend of the older boys, is running the gas station that Lad worked at when he was in his teens and early twenties. You might remember his letter to Lad in the post titled “Trumbull – The Red Horse Service Station – Carl Wayne”. He couldn’t wait to tell my father all the news in town, especially the fact that his sister (Elizabeth, Bissie to family and friends) had eloped.

SHOE SHORTAGE HITS INDIANAPOLIS

Local girl finds following Army from camp to camp hard on feet. Buys new pair of shoes.

This is a tongue-in-cheek reference to the fact that Jean must be wearing out her shoes following her husband from Trumbull to Miami to Indianapolis.

I hope you found this particular post as interesting as I did. My Grandfather continues to surprise me.

Tomorrow and Thursday, extracts from Grandpa’s Diary, On Friday, a letter from Biss to Ced, 

Judy Guion