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Bunk & Jinnie = son Frank & daughter-in-law

Florence Wagner = Florence Wagner Lynch, sister of Christine Wagner (Chris old friend of Sis)

Frank = Frank Vrzak, Millie's husband, neighbor

Les = son-in-law

Millie = Millie Vrzak, neighbor

replaced names of grandchildren with "your son" and "Bunk's daughter" (his 2nd daughter)

March 19th 1954

Dear Ones,

        It's not your turn, but your faithfulness must be rewarded with a little extra, so this is it. Why don't you intersperse your letters to, say about one at a time but don't miss any. Les will be kind enough to mail for you now that he has assumed the role of again being the dutiful instead of the roaming husband.

        Weather today gloomy. Last night had an earthquake not too far away about 2 AM, followed by a few more later and still we did not feel at our place. Headlines read 5 die in San Bernadino in a fire caused by quake, mother and four children.

        It's been rather fair for this time of year as this is supposed to be their winter. Ha ha--running around in shirt sleeves with no hat and Mom out hanging up wash without a top coat or sweater. It will hold out until you get here so don't worry. Roses starting to bloom again after a thorough pruning.

        Mom goes to church and has a buddy (lady) drive her part of the way. The other day she asked Mom what her name was and on being informed it was Wachdorf, the lady replied, That's it. She has a neighbor that saw Mom in church by the maiden name of Wagner. So this morning Florence met Mom and they had a glorious reunion at church. Also some lady on Doty Avenue wants to know Mom. She is also from Chicago and thinks she might know us, however Mom don't think so as she has a Polish last name Mom don't recognize. One by one we get to know people that came from Chicago. Seems like a bondage, that magical word Chicago. If you're from there, you must be good.

        Your letter said you would find some of our silverware. Please don't bring more than we asked for as you must carry it with you on the plane and not in your baggage. The weight otherwise might prove costly as you are only allowed a certain poundage per person.

        Also noted you might do some painting or decorating of your home. I would like to suggest that as long as Billy can't read, dispense with signs "Wet Paint" and just let the paint pot set in the middle of the floor after finishing. I'm quite sure he will know what to do. Also note you say people are doubtful who he looks like. Again I can come to the rescue. It's likely he has his mother's features and quite likely his Dad's fixtures.

        Between your son and Bunk's daughter, who is the worst. Bunk and Jinnie elaborate in detail of their daughter's accomplishments, or should I say rudiments. She is worse than foam, bursting into bubbles and then disappearing. And from all your letters, it must be contagious as we see Billy is afflicted with the same. Don't tame him too soon because we have not seen a good movie for some time and as you describe he's 3D's.

        Waiting to hear from Bunk now on advice from the clan about making this a permanent residence. That would be crowning glory as by now we are sold on the place and consider it our home. I just set out on the patio for days with nothing to do but loaf. Some day I'll exert myself and start rocking slowly so as not to get into a slump, or should I, that's a lot of work.

        Of course I drive every day as Mom and I go to the hospital to see Millie. She had 5 transfusions in preparation to removing her tonsils which doc says is all that's the matter with her besides being anemic. She has been laid up since about Feb 16 with Mom being nurse and maid. Cooking for Frank every day and giving Millie rub downs. If things go right, she'll be operated on Tuesday next and that should give us a vacation.

        Now it's supper time and Mom wants me to clear away from the table. That settles it. Mom always picks up the marbles. This being Friday, the meal cools off too fast so before I get a lump I'll say

Love from all of us

Mom, Dad, and Larry

To go to next letter, click here: 1954 Mar 24