July 13, 1924, Springerville, Arizona, to El Paso

July 13, 1924, Springerville, Arizona, to El Paso

Dear Helen,

Sunday 13, 1924

Is that an unlucky day? It seems to be. We're parked here in Springerville without a thing to do.

We got up as far as Grand Canyon, with the doggoned ole Hupp showing signs of rapidly approaching disintegration, so we decided to turn around and head towards home.

Springerville claims to have 300 miles of good trout fishing, and we're going out and try them out. I expect I could possibly get a letter here if you could possibly find time to write to me.

It seems like I've been gone a year already, but I guess I'll get home and get to see you again eventually.

Love,

Henry

P.S. Don't forget to write! Do I make myself clear?

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