Letter 21, October 4, 1941

Dear Mother and Dad,

It is now nine O'Clock. Just got up from a two hour nap. Nelson woke me this afternoon and I couldn't go back to sleep so I got up and worked on my course. I haven't heard any results yet, as to how I have been doing, but I just keep sending in my lessons. Have you heard anything? Hm, time will tell, maybe I am too anxious. Am glad that storm didn't reach Salt Lake. The trees there couldn't stand many more storms. The weather here is still peaceful and balmy with the usual warm sunny days and cool evenings. Say what is this all about your getting a tie with the big chain of banks in Seattle? I hope you do. When I learn the business you two can retire and I will run it. You can spend a few years at Whistle-n-Jacks and play around the country in general--that is, if the war will permit me to. Today it looks as though it might. I hope so, anyway. I don't know yet whether I will be able to to come home Thanksgiving. I don't want to ask or it might hurt my personal record, and I wouldn't mind that, but I am hoping for a work heads job. They are the ones that walk around the jugs where they keep the wings and see that construction is going along all right. A thousand more men have been hired at plant no. 2 since the first of September and someone has to show them what to do. They are classifying everyone this week to find out who knows the most about his job--I was one of the first classified and my work head says I have a good chance to become one if they don't shift someone in from another plant. He said I know enough about my job--am hoping. Better get back to the subject. if can possible make it, I won't know until the last minute, but if I can I will be there for that turkey dinner. I went out to the laundry after dinner with Big Bill and got some shirts. The little Japs that clean them had a real problem on their hands. Somehow they had mixed up about five hundred shirts, and shorts, and stockings, and so forth. Mine didn't get in the entanglement but Big Bill's did, and he can't get them for a week--the time it will take three little Japanese boys to sort them. I wish you could have seen the look on the owners face, made me roar that good old Larsen Laughter. Bill was mad but my laughter cheered him up. He hasn't got a clean shirt to put on and can't borrow one because of his brawn. No one is large enough to lend him anything. He says if no one criticises his wearing dirty shirts for the next week he is going to make a habit of it because he could use the money for his car. Oh, I almost forgot. There is a fellow who works with me, now, that looks and is built about like me. He is from Los Angeles. My work head says the only way he knows how to identify us is to look for one that is working---that is Lars---, amazing eh---and one that is clowning---that would be him. He would sooner clown than work. I hope they don't get our personal records mixed, that's all I hope. Well, I had better quite before I end up writing a 'whacky' letter. There is no astounding news, and say, have you seen Vandy yet? Keep me posted on everything you do and see--and write often. Love Tom

PS
Still am using the same typewriter. Guess I will buy it. This letter reads as though I am still asleep.