B007RT1UH4 EBOK (4 page)

Mr. Byrne has been fine, and we have gotten along very well except for a streak when he sort of tried to “hold me down”—not that I wanted to do any thing—it’s just that any one doesn’t like to be “with strings on”—that was in Panama and now in L.A. we get along like regular chums and he is really quite jolly and as a matter of fact was sort of the life of the whole trip.

There was another nice fellow on the way up from Panama—a twenty-seven year old sailor serving in the navy in Panama. He and I got along wonderfully and were usually partners in conspiring where Wetsy’s future was concerned. However I really took a kidding when Massapequa was concerned—it seemed as if it was brought up in every conversation—but when I got here I saw in the
L.A. Daily News
a large picture of a bonfire of Japanese made goods in “Massapequa, Long Island!” I tried to get one but it was an early edition.

At any rate we finally did leave Panama and tho the run up was completely uneventful it was at the same time very exciting. As we got nearer L.A. precautions were much greater—no smoking on deck and absolutely no lights. Lifeboats were slung out and ready, provisioned with food and water, lifebelts always handy, and I had my watch and money and papers in an oilskin pouch always with me. We really expected trouble—in fact Mr. Byrne and I had a two dollar bet on when it would come!—but things quieted as we neared L.A.

Christmas on the boat was a beautiful day but that’s about all, tho we did have a more sumptuous spread than usual. I had gotten a good burn the day before in the sun, but Christmas it was easier. And to top things off I was presented with a present!—my
dirtiest
pair of pants wrapped up in wooden cheese boxes!!! My most unique present yet!

Well now we’re getting settled in Los Angles—it’s quite a large town—spread all over etc. Happy New Year!

Love

Bill

Japan declared war: by bombing Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941. “Davey” Abad: professionally active from 1924 to 1937.

Ross: J. Ross Byrne, WG’s traveling companion.

King Herod or Jonathan Swift’s “Modest Proposal”: Herod, bent on killing Jesus, ordered all children of Bethlehem under two to be murdered (Matt. 2:16); Swift’s satirical essay (1729) recommends that the Irish eat their children to avoid starvation.

Massapequa: WG’s hometown on Long Island; his mother owned a house at 40 Jerusalem

Avenue.

To Edith Gaddis

[
WG spent three months at a ranch about 14 miles northwest of Tucson.
]

Cortaro, Arizona

[12 January 1942]

Dear Mom—

Well settled at last; “Sahuaro Vista Desert Ranch—Cortaro, Ariz.” is the new address. I left Ross in Yuma Saturday, after calling here to be sure of reservation, and got to Tucson that nite. The rates here, all over Arizona are much higher than before, because of war in Calif., and because Calif. weather is a bit cold. Mrs Adams, the proprietress here, told me her rates were higher and that I might stay at $90 a month because she had already quoted this rate. I think it is good because Ross is paying $40 per on a just regular “farm” in Yuma for room and board, and here they have horses etc. and the land is much nicer, Yuma being poor, and just dirty desert, while here they have plenty of giant cactus and mesquite etc. It looks like it’s going to be wonderful. [...]

And lest I forget—please get me another birth certificate whenever it is convenient (no hurry) and send it out, as I had trouble in Panama and L.A. landing without it. I suppose I should always carry it when I travel.

And I haven’t time now to tell you about it, but Brad Brown showed me a wonderful time in Hollywood—had many plans for this (past) weekend, but I thot I should get started for Arizona.

I haven’t seen much here—it is compairtively quiet as there are only two guests now, but soon there will be 18!, and I’ll probably get some mail from you in Tucson today, so I’ll stop now as we’re going very soon (it’s about 14 miles).

And
say
, if you haven’t seen
H.M. Pullham Esq
.
don’t miss
it. I saw it in Tucson Saturday nite. It is
wonderful
, Rob’t Young is superb and Hedy Lamarr is extremely good too. I have not
really
been
extremely
lonely since I left, but after that I just felt lost. I can see where the book must have been very good—

Lots of love

Bill

$90 a month: about $1260 today. ($1 in 1942 = $14.00 in 2013.)

Yuma: on the Arizona–California border.

Brad Brown: unidentified.

H.M. Pullham Esq.
:
Pulham
, 1940 film directed by King Vidor (based on a novel by John P. Marquand) about a stuffy Bostonian businessman who livens up his dull life with a fling.

To Edith Gaddis

Cortaro, Arizona

[17 January 1942]

Dear Mom—

[...] Well everything is coming along fine out here. I’ve been riding every day for two or three or four hours and it is wonderful.

However I can see where I made a sad mistake. I did as I have been waiting to do since I left, and for my Christmas present bought a handsome pair of boots for $19. They are good looking, but no inlay except around the top. At any rate I was well pleased until I started riding in them, and altho I do really like them—they fascinate me—this land is so rough, and what with riding through greasewood and cactus etc they now by the end of the week are getting pretty scratched up. Every time I pass a bush or cactus that scratches them I feel like it was tearing my own flesh!

They are not flashy: just black with green and yellow stitching and a little inlay around the top. If only I had gotten a cheaper pair to wear riding and bought a good pair to wear around and home. They had a
beautiful
pair for $30—all inlay etc. However these are good ones—lined and slightly padded and very well made, and I suppose it was a good investment. As a last resort please send my old ones out—I’ll have them re-heeled and they’ll do for rough country. And also my canteen—it’s hanging in the lodge just to the right of the garage door. It will be perfect for these long hot rides.

I have gotten a pair of blue jeans ($1.39) and a flannel shirt (98¢) for this riding—expect to get another pair of jeans today—and later perhaps a pair of “frontier pants” and a gabardine shirt. No hat as yet as they do seem sort of “dudey”—but I can see that it too will become almost a necessity before too long.

As for wanting anything else—well there are things down here that make me froth just to look at them!—belts such as I never dreamed of—rings—
beautiful
silver and leather work—but I figure I don’t need any of it now and will let it go until I’ve been around a bit more and seen more of these things that I’ve always known
must
exist
somewhere
!

My pictures turned out quite well on the trip ’round. I’m sending them under separate cover with the negatives in case you want to see them and you may keep them so I won’t lose them. They most all turned out—some taken in Panama Bay of sunsets which is
restricted
and I almost lost every thing—and say I don’t know whether or not I told you about what happened at Norfolk—I was caught taking pictures on the pier—trailed all over town by two Naval Intelligence men and finally “relieved” of any film. They said they would develop it and send me any pictures they approved—so if any thing comes to me there from them that resembles photographs please take a look and send them on—there may be some good shots. [...]

I can’t think of any thing I’d want from Saks—perhaps a tux but that will be a long time—I really don’t know what they handle—so why don’t you get yourself something and then later things will straighten out. There just isn’t much in the east that I can think of wanting—except clothes when I return—these wallets and belts and rings and other silver and leather creations out here are just things I have always dreamt of.

Well everything’s fine—just riding—rocking back and forth (what I mean
rocking
) in these saddles. It’s quite warm tho the natives comment on the “chilliness!” Tell Gram I’ll write and tell her all about Brad and thank her for her letter.

Love

Bill

Gram: aka Granga, WG’s maternal grandmother, Ida Williams Way (see headnote to 16 November 1943).

To Edith Gaddis

Cortaro, Arizona

[26 January 1942]

Dear Mother—

I received both your letters Saturday and the box that evening; thanks so much for the check (I paid it down on my “rent”), and the box—I still get a kick out of opening packages and presents!

And then as you say this slightly ironic setup—about my father. But I suppose we shall do just what might be expected, and wait . . . things always do take care of them selves, and, as “most of our troubles never happen,” by the same token plans and worries often make an unexpected outcome that much harder to meet. As you said it has not been a great emotional problem for me, tho it does seem queer; you see I still feel a little like I must have when I said “I have no father; I never had a father!,” and since things have been as they have, I have
never
really missed one—honestly—and only now does it seem queer to me. All I know of fathers I have seen in other families, and in reading, and somehow thru the deep realization I have gained of their importance; of father-and-son relations; and families: not just petty little groups, but
generations
—a
name
and honour and all that goes with it—this
feeling
that I have gained from other channels without ever having missed its actual presence: somehow these are the only ties I feel I have with him. You understand, not so much personal feelings, but the sort of feeling that I feel must exist between the father and son of a family as fine and as noble as I feel the name of Gaddis to represent; something far above such stuff as the
Good Will Hour
thrives on.