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Erie, Pa.
Wednesday, Oct. 5, 1938.

Writing the New Haven Report all day yesterday and today, and getting itchy to clean up the New Haven job and get on something active and new again. Understand we lost the 4 small locomotives at Ford to Whitcomb mechanical drive much to Jake's disgust. Maurice thought the order was only a matter of a few days a week ago.

Have neglected to record in here that Mr. Van Rae has a new job in Tulsa, Okla., and the whole family has left. The saddest part to me is Harold's going. He and Rog have been pals ever since they could toddle around and probably they will never see each other again. But Rog didn't seem to be disturbed – he is too young to see the tragic side of it, and how fortunate he is. It seems Van Rae, a lithographer has never stayed long in one town – wants to keep moving and spent about 5 years here, his longest anywhere. While we were never intimate with them, they were good neighbors and it is sad to have them gone – especially Harold on account of Rog. But fond as he was of Harold, it didn't seem to faze him in the least.

Read a great short story tonight in the Post – "That Which Hath Wings," by Paul Gallico. It is the story of two aviators who crack up on a Utah peak and are lost, of the girl who loves them both and finally gets a psychic message from one of them as he is dying, and thus realizes which one she really loves. It is the sort of story that someday, I hope I can write.

Erie, Pa.,
Thursday, Oct. 6, '38
Basil Cain drove today and Betty was with him. Every time we made a corner, something would slide across the rear compartment of the coupé. Betty said it must be her lunch, the significance of which failed to strike me at the moment. Later it developed it was being picked up by the Behrends, chauffeur and Cadillac, at the

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