The Box revealed a new set of letters and a new branch of this far flung family today with the unearthing of this correspondence from Herman, an artist and illustrator who seems to have come to Europe to fight (for the French army?) in World War I and to have stayed behind and made a life for himself in Paris.
Out of touch with at least this Uncle for some twenty years, he has managed to track him down and writes to him in hopes of rekindling a connection. It was a bit of a challenge to decipher his cursive handwriting so apologies for any inaccuracies. Perhaps future letters will yield the correct name of his Uncle and friends.
18 Nov. 1937
Dear Uncle (Dong?)
From time to time during the last eight or ten years I have wanted to write to you and each time have hesitated – just too long – over an old address somewhere in Sioux City, for in the back of my mind there was a vague recollection that you had left there and gone to Minneapolis. Recently on the chance I wrote May (Staridge?) asking if she knew where you really were and I have just received this morning the address in Fremont Avenue.
So after all these years I’ve got you back again and want to know all about you and what you are doing & how you are – and news of your daughters, Marjorie and Mrs. Brace whose welcome visit I have never forgotten eight or ten years ago when they came to Paris.
Much water has run under the bridge since then & I have been very busy and done a lot of work and travelled in short jumps pretty much all over Europe, but I haven’t been in America – which even in these modern times is very far away – since 1917. I went over then for a flying trip to Washington to change from the French into the American Army and came back to France after a short three weeks in a Khaki uniform instead of Blue. Since then fortune has varied, sometimes good, sometimes bad for an artists’ job is a thankless and unproductive one in these modern times of political and financial trouble.
For many years I have been much interested in the beautiful old windmills which for centuries past have ground the wheat of France and Europe, (before the day of the modern roller mills) – and just recently published an article on them illustrated with drawings of my own – a sort of an appeal for the mills and the millers – both disappearing very rapidly now. I am sending you a copy of the magazine – you will probably have to brush up your school French to read it – or perhaps Marjorie can read it for you. At any rate the drawings will give you some idea of what I have been doing lately.
Do you hear from George? He has been living near Colorado Springs – (Motor Route No. 3 – Colo. Spgs is his address) since he sold his ranch in New Mexico. He was not well last year, but I believe is very much better now.
I shall look forward to haering from you! My love in the meantime to all the family.
I wish I could track down that French magazine, or find any examples of his drawings of the old Windmills and millers of Europe. How cool would that be? Who knows, maybe one will spill out from the seemingly endless nooks and crannies of The Box!
It might even look like this: