Feb 15, 1920
From: William A Gray
To: Ruth (Barrell) Gray, New Providence, NJ
My own dearest Ruthy:
This is just an extra letter all for yourself.
Mr Massey and I tramped about town until 6:30. Then we went home to sup with his
mother and spend the evening. I had my evening meal alone at this Hostelry and then
stepped across the street to a 7:30 Methodist service from whence I have just returned.
The church was a great deal better filled than a Summit evening affair, but the
minister was inferior to any ever heard in New Providence, not excepting Eddie Atwood.
The text murdered was: “There is one thing thou lackest.” He couldn’t have meant
me, because there are so many things I lack, that I couldn’t begin to count them all.
The singing was good and all-in-all, I came away refreshed.
Well Dear, the one essential thing I lackest is “You.” I wish you, Jack, Edward,
Charlie and Joe were here. Then the trip would be worth while.
There are many auto tourists here. One crowd of 3 woman and one bare man
arrived in a Ford from North Carolina just when we returned from our walk. The gent
(chauffeur) looked like a typical southern colonel and then there were his wife, at least so I
sized her up, and two other’s, none under 50.
They were all fairly full sized individuals and the sides of the Ford fairly bulged
without any baggage. The latter was tied on to running boards and mud guards. You never
saw such a sight. I’m sure Henry Ford would have wept copious tears, had he seen one of
his babes so piteously treated.
Well, after a while, seeing this party in the dining room you wouldn’t know but what
they came in a Packard.
I wish you’d pick out a few Kodaks of the children and send them to me. Any will do,
so long as all are represented.
Will not write any more tonight, but send you a large bundle of love and kisses. I
hope you are well and that I may have a letter by Tuesday Evening.