August 18, 1932 - Thursday

This afternoon was our afternoon off so we went up to the top of Garfield. We took pictures of ourselves by means of a long string pull. When I’m on in the morning I have to go on from 7 to 9 hours.

George's letter home:

Dear Mom,

Here I am, just fresh from a shower; and it certainly has turned me into a fresh kid. In fact, Anne and I are both too full of spirits this evening. We laughed and giggled all through dinner, and eight thirty finds us still laughing. My, my, isn’t life a comedy – Huh?

Your news of Stan wasn’t a bit pleasant, and I am still wondering what ails him. However, I posted a nice long letter, full of wise cracks, to him today. Concerning the flower of the Russell family, you wouldn’t think that twenty pounds one way or another would destroy his handicraft with the pen, would you? If you get any member of that family by the ear again remind them that I have had a letter due since early summer.

I have already promised to remain here until the last chipmunk is snowed in; so I will have no real visit with you for another year. I miss my mother and father as much as they miss me, but I am afraid we are to be traversing different ways, more and more as time rolls along. That is much different than I wish it, but it seems that I am no longer an infant.

If Uncle John can do for me what he is trying to do, my great dream to see something will come true. I shall write him soon and show him that I am interested.

That is all for this time.

Love, Brother