Dear Folks,

You may be wondering about my doings, but don’t worry, and I’ll let you know if anything ever does happen. It has been so rainy that little flying of any kind has been done. I, for instance, haven’t yet checked out of field carrier landings—just haven’t been good enough, though I thought I was last time. That was Friday, and here it is Tuesday night. That leaves nothing to tell about except recreational activities, which, however, have been especially enjoyable. On Friday evening I went to a weekly party given by a well-to-do family in Wilmette (last suburb of Chicago) for student officers, Curtis was their name, and they gave us beer, gals, etc.—pleasant if not exciting, the girls not being amazing.

We were secured early Sat. P.M., which enabled me to see the Big Ten Track Meet in Evanston. Happily for the spectators there were some shelters, but the track was almost a quagmire, so performances were not record-breaking though comperition was keen enough. Michigan won despite not winning a single first place, a unique achievement.

Having Sunday also off I decided to go to Ann Arbor, which I did via sleeper after seeing the movie version of “Random Harvest,” mighty fine. The old stamping grounds were pretty much occupied by the army. I took a couple (the girl I drove east two years ago and her husband) out to lunch at the League and later went to the Dean’s for “tea,” which was actually punch. I missed Wight, who, as I may have told you, died last summer, but all my other faculty friends were there and seemed very glad to see me. Prof. Baxter, the pathology professor, told me he would have asked me to go to Alaska with him with expenses paid summer of 1941 had he known I could have gone, which might have been possible to arrange—futile thought. A walk in the Arboretum, which netted a yellow-bellied flycatcher (uncommonly seen in migration, but common, for instance, between Noon and Jennings Peak, Sandwich Dome), and a movie finished up the visit.

Love

T.R.

P.S. Have kept A.H.R. informed.

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