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Erie, Pa.,
Thursday, June 27, 1940.
The family, well and happy, met me at the station and it was good to be home.  I went to the office after lunch and spent the afternoon on New York Central, mail, etc. I was somewhat dismayed to find myself again with a mild sore throat, the result undoubtedly of the awful weather in Boston.  I am definitely resigned now to having my tonsils taken out soon.

The really big event of today was the Republican nominaion of Wendell Willkie for the Presidency, a political
[[?miricle]] if there ever was one.  He seems like the sort of man that might turn out to be a sort of 20th Century Abraham Lincoln - one who can save this country in perhaps the greatest crisis in its history.  I hope he can be elected; I think he would make a great president.

Erie, Pa.,
Friday, June 28, 1940.
"Whitey" wanted to know this morning if Roy had yet been made manager, and when I said "no", he wondered if it wouldn't be hard for Roy to handle the job in Boston on account of his being Irish, intimating that the Irish-Catholic angle might lick him.  I told him Roy seemed well liked by all whom I know who know him and that although Irish, he's far from "Shanty Irish".

The New York Central is not finished yet and it looks like "the 4th of July" will be about right for shipment, or one month late.  But I believe we have something pretty nice in it.  It isn't going to Buffalo after all because they can't use a locomotive of less than 28' wheelbase over there on account if the track circuit system, dead spots, etc.
 
Jake had a poker game tonight over at his

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inserted some omissions.