September 4, 1931 – Friday

It’s alright. Geo. isn’t angry. Just my imagination working overtime again. As usual we were thru at noon. I slept some this afternoon. Wrote two letters and read tonight. I talked to George part of the time.

George's Letter Home:

Dear Mom,

Pardon the scrawl but one doesn’t write very well with a cut finger. Everything is fine, except that there is hardly anybody here anymore.  After Labor Day, there will be still less; so you see what a lonesome place this will be.  For the last few days the weatherman has acted very gustily.  All the old timers say our snow storms are on the way. This weekend should see plenty of zero weather.

Thank you for the cookies and don’t worry about the fruit. The Barnes sent me a big box of pears, and Lewis received a box of peaches. We took some of our fruit down to the garbage pit today and fed a bear. Lewis fed him and took a couple of good pictures of him. Gee, they surely are funny old animals.

Last night one of the men took nine of us down to Ft. Klamath and back . Boys and girls were piled clear to the top of his car. All we did was wise crack all the way down and back. It broke the monotony of this place for awhile anyway. I surely wish I were out of the place. Oh, well, I am making some money and I have been told I can come back next season.

Paul Austin and his folks were here last night!!! Oh Boy!!! Big Packard car, colored chauffer and everything. I don’t envy him though. The father isn’t his real one and his mother is always traveling around the world someplace. Give me my little old home just the way it is, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the gold in the world.

You should have seen the moon last night. It was tinted orange with three orange colored clouds crossing for all the world like the bars before a prisoner’s face. It threw a long shimmering streak across the water, and the constantly ruffled water turned this reflection in a thousand fantastic shapes. I wish you could see some of the beautiful sights, Mother.

This is all, Mom. Write me often and remember I will be home before long.

Love, Brother