Letter 2-----July 12, 1941

Dear Parents,

I went out to the factory today. I had no idea it could be so large. It covers hundreds of acres and planes are strewn for miles--all types. We, Bud and I, signed up and today and tomorrow we will attend a lecture at 12:00 A.M., then, come Saturday, we go to school from eight to four, seven days a week for three weeks. I will let you know each day how I am making out and what we, mainly me, are doing.

Not much has happened today. I went with Bud while he had his car greased. Waiting consisted of sitting in a barber chair. I had most of my hair cut off. It feels good short, although I don't think I'll ever get a date.

Bridwell knows a fellow who will sell a good model A for $50 dollars. When I say good, I mean it runs---the motor is good. If you will send me the money I will pay you back when I start getting payed. Say hello to "Vandy" for me if you get a chance and write soon. Your son,
Love, Tom

PS
I miss both of your advise--mothers cooking and Louis's schooling. I'll manage in time to become solely independent but will never drift apart.

I haven't pieced together very much of Tom's early life. I will continue to work on it as the year goes on.

Tomas William Larsen was born on February 25th 1921 in the Salt Lake Maternity Hospital 2079 So. 5th E. Salt Lake City, Utah. His father was Louis William Larsen and his mother was Ada Hendricks Larsen. The family lived at 2121 Green Street, Salt Lake City, Utah.

When Tom was 20, July, 1941 he left home to go to California. He got job at the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation in Burbank, California August 1, 1941. The letters that follow are original letters in Tom's handwriting.


Letter 1 July 9, 1941
Frostonya Apartments
346 No. Vermont Ave.
Los Angeles, Ca

Dear Folks,

God---this isn't what it's cracked up top be. The streets are dirty and the heat is terrific. The people are typical Californians---as is only natural---they are ---in the main---dirty, greasy--but happy, I guess. It makes me laugh when I talk to some of these Californians. They have the impression that this is God's country and that they are God's people.

The trip down was uneventful, tiresome and extremely hot! When we finally found my destination, through this maze of street, traffic, pedestrians, and stop lights, it was 2:00 O'clock. I flopped on the couch and just woke up for the first time. I don't think I have ever been so tired. I feel as fit a a fiddle now!

This apartment is quite the "joint". It has a kitchen, plenty of drawer space, is modern but moderately furnished, and most important of all is thoroughly clean. It's quite a ritzy dump downstairs. There is a large comfortable inviting lounge with a six foot fire place in one end. On the south side there is a patio with a bird bath, fountain, and garden in the center. Surrounding the center piece are deck lounging chairs, tables, swings, and even umbrellas for those who use it during the day. Our unit is $45 a month, which isn't bad at all when split we split it three ways. The factory is twelve miles away. It takes about an hour to get to it by bus or streetcar. There are two competitive transportation lines and they have different locals. Only one goes to Burbank. This is the way it was explained to me. You have to make several changes or transfers to get there. It cost 7 cents to ride the streetcars or buses, you have to use both lines to get there and going out and back each day by that method totals 28 cents which is too expensive, tiresome and long in respect to time. I have got a ride for a few days. Bud, the fellow I came with, is going to pick me up, but I can't impose and depend on him to much because he lives about six miles from here towards the factory. He is staying in a boarding house with his brother.

Dad, I can get a cheap car for about $70 or $80 dollars. That would be a Model A. If you could possible afford to send me that much money, I would certainly appreciate it and will pay you back as soon as I start working. Rides are scarce. there is no one here with a car. None of the fellows live close to Burbank. If I can possible find a ride and you send me the money I will send it back but according to Nelson, the other fellow here, they are pretty scarce here. The shift he has is at night where as mine will be in the daytime or I could ride with him, and Bridwell goes about twelve miles south the opposite direction from Burbank. A car is necessary, I am finding out. Write soon or contact me in a couple of days if you can send me that money. Love to you both. Your son, Tom

PS
Keep your eye on "Vandy" for me if you feel like you know her well enough. She said she would appreciate and enjoy your company. I will keep you informed of everything I do!

Remembering

O radiant flowers, you will say

What only flowers can convey

When we come this hallowed way.

Touch him with a tenderness

Of blossoms in the wind's caress

At high tide of their loveliness.

Let him hear the muted word

That he will know, that he has heard

In petaled whispering to a bird.

Though flowers fade and memories dim

To echoes of a requiem,

Our hands are reaching out to him.

Louis W. Larsen

To The Mothers of Sons


(Dedicated to Rosa Lee Lloyd and Mrs. Louis W. Larsen (Ada---Tom's Mother) mother's of Tynnie and Tom)

Poor Mothers, weeping for your loss,
The one you cherished so, the son
You bore and saw grow straight and strong--
Remember now that there was one

Who saw her son hung high
In shame for all to see,
While she knelt helpless and alone
Beneath the cross-formed tree.

And yet, when death at length had come
And she had turned and gone her way,
The morning saw her Son arise
With the new day.

She saw, she knew, she felt
His nail-torn flesh---free of death's bands.
And though you cannot see your son,
And cannot touch his hands,

Above the tortured earth
Beyond the anguished night,
Today, he too, is risen
And walking with the Son of Light.

Christie Lund Coles

A sad chapter in our family life concerns our son Tom. He enlisted in the armed services, Mountain Infantry, in 1941. His first training was at Fort Lewis, Washington. Later he had training at Fort Ord, California. In the summer of 1943, he went with his Regiment to Kiska, in the Aleutian islands, where he was encamped for several months. Fortunately, there was no engagement with the Japanese, who had vacated the island before the arrival of the Americans. Returning from Kiska in late 1943, he was stationed for a few months at Camp Hale, Colorado. During his stay at this Fort, he made several visits with us in Salt Lake. In late 1944, he was encamped in Texas. Near the end of the year he was shipped with the 2nd Army to Italy. He was killed in action on Mt. Belvedere on the date of February 20, 1945. (One day before his 24th birthday) He was buried in Italy until his remains were sent home and interred in Wasatch Lawn Cemetery in March of 1949. While stationed in Texas, Tom married Juana Marie Broussard of Austin. After he went overseas, she came to reside with us for about twenty three months, at the end of which time she was married to Claudius A. Banks of Vernal, Utah. Tom was a sergeant in the 85th Mountain Infantry, 10th Division.
Taken from writtings of Louis W. Larsen---Father of Tom