Name/Title
AU Harris, Joseph Hastings - 1931-09-10 letter to FamilyEntry/Object ID
1990.1.183Context
[Letter undated but a St. Louis newspaper clipping accompanying it was dated 10 SEP 1931]
Dear ones at home,
It is 1:00 P.M. (E.T.) On Pa train which misses Dayton. "Last call to lunch," the porter says, but I got a cheese sandwich and glass of milk. Train is dirty & hot. Few passengers but they insist on having windows open so it is smoke, dirt and noise. Fine conductor. He explained my route to Hastings. An Italian family with three little ones are a few seats ahead of me. They are having a jolly time. Hoffman & I were entertained in home of [Mr. Geo Ball] at Casey, a fine home. Bishop allowed me to speak early this morning so I could get train 10:03. We get to St. L. 1:25 (C.T.) and I leave at 2:15. Will try to call Nellie. Will try to get home Sun night 1:13. Did not bring key but will [hollow]. Land is quite level but crops not nearly so good as in Ohio. Here is a great stack of stove wood, a little village with the usual hick loafers watching the train go by, a man with his team going into dinner, acres of small corn possibly sweet corn, some soil that looks like tick ridge. Now at Highland, Ill. Broad stretches of nice lying land. Cattle in the fields switching flies, here a pond with cattle standing in it. Italian buys CocaCola, children are messing about over a dozen seats keeping daddy Italia busy jabbering with them. Noisy freight train of [sweet] smelling stock on their last journey from the cradle to the grave. Some tick ridge gutters. A field of corn captured by the weeds. A field of golden rod beautiful to look upon but nasty to mow. Little narrow country roads. Hills are appearing. Grapes by the acres, front yards and back yards filled with them. A big brick plant. Now at Collinsville but no stop. Now a big dirigible heaves in sight and the Italian children nearly have a fit. Makes me think of other days when bright eyed kids were seeing everything. Land level again and corn as far as I can see. There a mule rolling and getting rested to kick somebody. Now at E. St Louis a dingy dirty looking place because so many factories. The smoke of St. L. appears and we are coming upon the bridge which crosses the Father of Waters. Acres of R.R. yards. Little squalid homes but somebody in them. A saloon sign still exists. Here is the Miss River with all kinds of boats lining the shore. Water is muddy. Surely is hot. In a few minutes must bring to a close. Now in a tunnel. Dean might phone the papers a little squib relative to opening. Now ready to get off in old St L.
Love to all,
Dad.
Called Nellie. They are well.
