September 6, 1932 - Tuesday

My what a let down in business today. I went on this afternoon and didn’t do much of anything all afternoon. George had to stay down until late so we had dinner together. I read while he wrote tonight. I’m happy.

George's letter home:

Dear Mom,

I have had another great hike in the good old forests, only this one ended about nine-thirty. Bill Manning and I were hiking through the woods after dinner, and it grew too dark to find our way. In fact, I couldn’t see my hand before my face. Matches we had; so we built a fire, gathered wood enough for one night and enough fir-bows for a bed, and settled down for a long night broken up into two hours of watch apiece. All things have their end, and the night is by no means an eternal phenomena. The dawn, the dawn, the dawn, at four thirty – oy! Vat a night it was. We dragged into the Lodge in time for breakfast; and ever since, we have been called everything from Daniel Boone to a Boy Scout. I guess we had all the people here pretty muchly worried, and it certainly was a very troubled and red eyed little girl who met me upon my return.

A sailor, there must be in every family; and I am now the “Old Man of the Sea” from our tree. Old “Sol” has not wasted much time in turning my skin into a raw piece of some kind of meat or another; but for all that, I am thoroughly enjoying myself.

Anne is still here, and I imagine she will remain for some time. In that event, she will return directly to Eugene. Her mother and sister are definitely coming here in May to see Anne graduate and to remain here for good. Mr. Powell will follow in about a year. Anne is so excited that you would think they were but a day’s journey away instead of nine months.

Get rid of father’s hat, Mom, this is one mission you just must not fail me in. The honor of our family is at stake; imagine a Hibbard sporting a tamo shanter (sic).

Bye, Bye,

Love, Brother