sea from New York, if it could be worked out, or get work in the east somewhere—perhaps on a dude ranch—or even come back west.
But then of course if you think it would be good to enter Harvard in June, that would change everything. I might come east from here, or get Ross to drive east early.
And so please send me the date for entry in June; it was probably in that Accelerated Programmer book, but I think I sent it back with that bag I shipped. So please tell me which you think would be best—Harvard in June, or a little more working around, until fall.
I seem to be in good physical condition; I had a physical exam and the doctor wrote ‘good’; the work is pretty hard (building a pipeline for a dredge in big hip boots etc!) and I’ll watch myself and if anything looks like it’s going wrong will go to the doc—however I think this work will build me up—if anything will, and it is an experience. The boys here are a ripping bunch, and the food good and plenty (4 meals a day). And they all think I’m an Arizona cowboy! We do have fun!
Love
Bill
To Edith Gaddis
St Louis, Missouri
[26 May 1942]
Dear Mom—
I know you had a hard time getting the birth certificate—and as for shipping out of New Orleans—I wouldn’t do that even if I did get down there—and I don’t expect to do that now—unless I’m fired and it should work out that way conveniently.
However I am planning on coming home in June—very definately unless something radical should happen—then we’ll plan from there—and at least have time to talk over the sea before I go, if I should.
We paint and scrape daily and pretty hard too, down below deck, but Frank (the captain) doesn’t seem to think we’re fast enough—so I may leave (by request!) any day! And say tell Granga I expect to be leaving this town about the eighth—she said she might come out here and I’d like seeing her. I expect to work thru the weekend of the 7th—then leave and come home slowly—stop in Chicago—Indiana—Ohio—but of course the job may move or end before then, so I can’t be sure.
We go out once in a while but not often—I haven’t had a day off since I started so can’t do much and work next day. The time passes fast enough on the job it is rather monotonous and so this evening I went down to some 2nd hand book stores—saw a beautiful copy of Omar Khayam’s Rubaiyat—leatherbound—I’ve read it and like it a great deal—but it was $6 so I left with a copy of Ibsen’s plays to help pass the time—
Love
Bill
Omar Khayam’s Rubaiyat: twelfth-century collection of Persian poems, especially popular in Edward FitzGerald’s nineteenth-century translation.
Ibsen’s plays: his Peer Gynt (1867) plays an important role in R.
To Edith Gaddis
Saint Louis, Missouri
[1 June 1942]
Dear Mom—
Well everything still under control—and June 9th drawing closer every day! Boy it’s going to be good.
Still painting down in the hold, tho today I worked out on the shore line.
I think I’ll have enough money when I leave here to start home—I get paid Friday the 5th and and have some debts to collect so think it will turn out all right
Am quite sure I won’t be home by next week-end—right now I expect to work through Saturday—then off 8 hours, go back out at midnite ’til 8 Sunday morning—then plan to drive down to Cape Gerardo about 135 miles south, with some of the boys with whom I work here on the boat. They’re a swell bunch and have been wanting me to go down for some time—so we’ll go Sunday morning—and back Monday afternoon; then perhaps see Granga Monday or Tuesday nite—(preferably Monday evening) and leave next day for Chicago. So if you’ll see what her hotel will be so I can look her up Monday nite (or Tuesday nite if this isn’t possible) it will work out fine.
Well it won’t be too long now—I expect to stay in Chicago—and around in Indiana and perhaps Sandusky Ohio—however that trip is uncertain—and say is Henry driving a school bus?? George said so.
Love
Bill
Cape Gerardo: i.e., Cape Girardeau.
Sandusky Ohio: WG’s journal indicates he met (or intended to meet) a Carole Potter there on 16 June.
To Edith Gaddis
The Mark Twain Hotel
Eighth and Pine Streets
Saint Louis
[7 June 1942]
Dear Mom—
Well can you believe it?! Free at last! And in a hotel room with bed! and tub! and easy chair! And tonite I go out and sink my teeth into a thick juicy red steak—haven’t had any red meat since I started!
And say but these dress pants feel good after a month and a half of those heavy work pants!
I heard from Gram and planned to meet her the 13th in Indianapolis—but now is changed to Keokuk, Iowa the 9th—so I’ll see her there and then wander on east thru Chicago and Indianapolis etc. and home—I don’t know when but probably around the end of the week of the fourteenth. But will let you know when I’m definately headed for New York.
And say, I forgot to mention—but you might write Dr. Gumere or some such—Mr Garrett’s friend; he’s the dean of admissions at Harvard and probably the boy who’d know.
Well I’ll write and keep you posted—and you’ll probably get a letter from Gram soon telling you I look ragged or something—but I haven’t changed a bit—my watch still fits just like it did and pants etc—I’ve hit a ‘bottle neck’ and my regular life ab’d the boat apparently hasn’t helped—or done bad—I guess I’m lucky—
Love
Bill
Dr. Gumere: Richard M. Gummere (1883-1969), Dean of Admissions at Harvard from 1934 to 1952. Mr. Garrett is unidentified.
