Letters of William Gaddis. William Gaddis

the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers.

      H.M. Stanley’s auto biography: Sir Henry Morton Stanley (1841–1904), explorer in Africa; his Autobiography was posthumously published in 1909.

      To Edith Gaddis

      Rancho de los Caballos

      Yuma Valley, Arizona

      Tuesday [31 March 1942]

      Dear Mom—

      Well I got started at last—hitch hiked over here yesterday in six hours and am seeing Ross who sends his best.

      It is certainly hot here out on the desert, and I think I’ll get started for L.A. soon—perhaps this afternoon—for I think I can get a ride as far as El Centro. I just want to go out to the coast to see how things are.

      For the last two or three or four weeks I’d been working at S—V—Ranch for Mrs Adams with horses and dudes—$1 off per day—and so when paid up $28 to leave on. That will be plenty to get me to the coast and back—and I’ll be back in Tucson soon I’m sure—unless something good should turn up in L.A.

      Love

      Bill

      To Edith Gaddis

      The Rosslyn Hotels

      111 West Fifth Street

      Los Angeles, California

      [early April 1942]

      Dear Mom—

      Well it took me over 500 miles of hitch hiking—but now you may set your mind completely at rest; I went down to San Pedro today—and the U.S. Maritime Commission—and the sea seems at least post poned for a while—next summer perhaps. But I had to come out and settle it for myself. I got out to San Diego and on the ride up from there saw miles of the Pacific, so I guess I’m cured for a while.

      I have been here since last evening, when I arrived, and after this second good look at L.A. plan to start back in the morning.

      I had a haircut this morning (first in 3 months!!) and the barber whom I got to know here in January said that I looked better. You should have seen the hair tho—it was really long—what I mean—and curly too!

      Well should be back at the Ranch by the weekend unless something intruguing intervenes!

      Love

      Bill

      To Edith Gaddis

      Cortaro, Arizona

      [6 April 1942]

      Dear Mom—

      Well—back at last, and what a trip. I got here yesterday afternoon about two P.M., having got a ride thru from near Yuma.

      That hitch-hiking works out well. I “cheated” once—took a bus from L.A. to Indio; I never could have gotten a ride out of L.A.

      And so now I’m going to start looking around here for a job. I could have got one out on the coast but I don’t like it a bit out there, and it seems any thing but healthful.

      What I’d like to do is work around here until the beginning of May and then start out and see the north west and west and work east in June.

      There’s an ad in the paper today by a ‘large electrical firm’ for ‘young men 18 to 22’ so I’m going to see what’s cooking.

      Came back from L.A. with three dollars so my one week’s thousand mile trip wasn’t so expensive after all—and I got a hair cut!—First since January fifth!

      Love

      Bill

      P.S. How do you like my new ‘G’ in Gaddis on the envelop? I think it’s better.

      To Edith Gaddis

      Cortaro, Arizona

      [8 April 1942]

      Dear Mom—

      Well this is just to tell you about the latest intriguing offer and plans. There is a couple here—an elderly deaf woman and her feeble minded son (!) from Saint Louis Mo.—and they plan to return the fifteenth. However they want someone to drive them—that is share driving with the son—only about 200 miles a day apiece! They have a ’38 Buick—and have offered me the job!—They pay all car expenses—and my quarters at nite—leaving me only meals to pay for—so I think I’ll do it.

      As it looks now we leave the fifteenth—Wednesday—and so around the twentieth I can receive mail at Gen’l Delivery–St. Louis.

      Love

      Bill

      To Edith Gaddis

      St. Louis, Missouri

      [20 April 1942]

      Dear Mom—

      Well here in St. Louis at last—we got here Sunday afternoon—and what a trip. You see this woman is hard of hearing—and her son Otto, who’s about 23—is sort of—simple. He went thru college—then started in at Harvard (!) and then cracked up it seems.

      Anyhow we got here—after going thru Carlsbad Caverns etc.—and I figured on staying here with these people until I could get myself a job—or a river boat down to New Orleans—then back to Tucson; but chances for jobs on boats were very slim, and I finally ended up down on the river where the government is building a levee—so tomorrow morning I am to go down and see about a job there—it looks good, and I saw the boss yesterday and he said that if I came back in the morning he thot chances looked good. It is 55¢ an hour—you board and room on the boat there—and it amounts to about $22 a week cleared. I figure that if I work there for about two or four weeks I can make a good enough stake to get back to Arizona.

      I know just how things are at home—I mean no car—and George, Henry Cliff and probably Arvid gone—and I’d thot about it that way—so here’s what I figure. You see Ross may buy an old car and start east around the thirtieth of May, so I may go with him. That would get me home around the middle of June—just right to see some of my old friends graduate etc.—and then, Mom—if you’ll do me a favour, and please see Gerald Haggerty and see how much chance I’d have to ship out in coastal or South American waters around June twenty-fifth—or do you think it would be better if I wrote him myself? At any rate that’s what I want to do. That would just round things out right.

      Well that’s how things stand now—of course I may not get a job—then I’ll do as you said and go to a nice hotel and send for money. But other wise things should work out well; I have $4. which will keep me over until I get this job—then things will be fine.

      I saw De Mills’ secretary and told her to send you the bill (and also told her what I thot of his $5 a call services and what they’d done for me!); also to the laboratory, for similar purposes!

      I have shipped a box by express from Tucson (my old overcoat and a pair of steer’s horns)(collect) and intend to ship my big suit case today—I don’t need the shirts and pants in it (by express)(collect).

      Will write tomorrow and let you know about the job—in the mean time don’t worry—I’m not.

      Love

      Bill

      [on back of envelope:] P.S. When does Harvard June session start?

      Otto: the name of a major character