Letter 26, Halloween, 1941

Dear Mother and Dad,

Celebration over for this little "graveyard-er". Due to my "Topsy turvy" routine of living I did my celebrating this morning. I will tell you about it, but it's apt to be a little "shady" in parts, so, you will just have to excuse it.

This morning when I got home from work I found one of the twins sitting on the "throne" apparently in distress. He looked at me and asked me if I would do him a favor. I told him yes, because I was in a good mood over what I learned at work last night, which I will tell you about later. The twin asked me if I would get him some toilet paper. An idea "popped" into my mind immediately and I walked to the other bathroom opposite the one he was in, around the balcony at the top of the stairs, took hold of the toilet paper and proceeded to take the long way back to the twin. I passed in and out of every room, leaving my trail marked by that white ribbon. Finally, when i decided that I had just about exhausted the role, I made it for the twin, handed him the paper, washed my hands, and went down to breakfast. It was still draped all over the second story when I went to bed, and the twin had gone to work. It was gone when I got up this afternoon, everyone made a comment of every degree, and all enjoyed the prank, of which the land lady still doesn't know the instigator.

Just finished typing out one of my lessons and am going to enclose a piece of copy--my first--for Louis' criticism. And mother I want you to read it and see if it excites your interest and sustains it until the particulars are given concerning the product itself. I want all the criticism I can get from here on, of the copy I mass together, so when every I write any, I am not only going to send it to the school, but home to you two as well, for your approval and criticism. I am also going to enclose with this letter the letters I have been receiving, and also the marks of each lesson. Am rather proud of them and maybe it will give you some idea of how I am progressing. I would appreciate it, though, if you would send the letters back because I want very much to keep them in my file and returned lessons.

Last night at work I was earnestly drilling away ant my lead man came up to me and we had quite a chat. It all started out by his telling me a joke, and then me telling a better one, and then him telling one, and then me, and then him and, well he didn't let me better him, he changed the subject. He told me he had to figure out who his new instructors were going to be and to what men they would be assigned. He actually confided in me, and ask me who I thought would be the best men and where. We worked out two inboard crews and one outboard crew, and when we started on the second outboard crew he stopped me. Said he was going to give it to me. That is, he is going to if he can because he can trust me for good work and he likes the way I get along with the fellows. Can you imagine? He said he wanted me to train all the new men coming in and pick the best of them. Only the best are kept they tell me. I really often wonder at times why they kept me. When he left he said he was looking forward to such a set up in the near future, but it if doesn't "pan" out that way, he said, you will know that there is only one reason why, and that is that you haven't been with us long enough. Am hoping, anyway.

Am practically debt free--am completely outside of my type writer and my course, and have saved abut sixty five or sixty dollars to date. Will know exactly when I get my check cashed and living expenses paid.

Now that I have started a new sheet I might as well fill it. I will tell you about various incidences at work.

About a week ago they took about half the men off the crews in the big jigs. The jigs where only the best are kept. Where only the best are kept, is practically the motto around there. Hm, gives me an idea--might stress that point to all new men. Scott, my lead-man would probably like the idea too. They took the so-called best groups and told them before they brought any new men in, they were going to teach them framing, skinning, and riveting. They seem to think that by doing so they can develope speed and perfection later on. I am leading up to another tale, think I will swing into it about now.

I was vigorously riveting away on a skin had just finished drilling, dimpling--each hole is dimpled so the wing will have a perfectly smooth surface when the flush head rivets are put in--and trimming. The man I had bucking the rivets was the new man I told you about that they brought in to train for better things. Do you follow me--that comes out even to there, I think, if you use your imagination. He was doing a very poor job, so teasingly I took the bucking bar from him and told him to rivet. I bucked a couple of bays--the spaces between each rib--with marvelous results--all of the rivets were good. The inspector checked them and told me to paint them over. Each rivet is painted with a yellow dope, to preserve them, and to help the rivets resist corrosion. I picked up the little half-pint paint can and it slipped from my hand because the outside was covered with wet paint. I grabbed for it and flipped it at the same time so I wouldn't get paint on my clothes or anyone else's. It flew into one of the bays I had just bucked and splashed over the rivets. Outside of painting my right hand yellow and being slightly sloppy the inspector said it was the fastest job of painting he had ever seen. I had a hard time getting the paint off my hand, and that dried before I could wipe it off--will just have to wear off.

Have go to end this, can't classify it, now in order to dig the letters I am going to send from my file4s and make it to work. Last night I went to sleep about an hour before my "take off" and missed my street -car--was two minutes late. From now on am going to "take off" a little earlier to be absolutely sure of punching in on time. Your letters were both swell, Write soon and I'll do the same.
Love, Tom