Finally, letters from home arrive in Japan!

After being away from home for nearly a month, Maj. Gillham finally received letters from home on this day.  It must have been quite a relief, since there was no other way to find out any news about his family.  In this age of email and cheap long distance, it's hard to imagine exactly what that news deprivation must feel like.  Add to that the uncertainty of the long wait:  Was the mail lost?  Did they just not write anything?  Has something happened to them?  You could probably drive yourself crazy thinking about it.

Consequently, the letter he wrote on this day deals primarily with things mentioned in the letters he just received.  I will try my best to clarify the names and places he mentions, but I may need some help from our studio audience, as well.  If you have anything to add, please make a comment below by clicking on the comment link after this post (it most likely appears as "0 comments," but it could be more).

15 Nov 1945
Tokyo, Japan

Dearest Darling,

This was a big day for me.  I got my first batch of letters.  There were five from you and one each from Emily and Monty.  They were all addressed to my temporary APO and the latest ones were postmarked 30 Oct. which isn't bad considering they were forwarded.

It is certainly fine to establish contact with you again.  It had been just four weeks since I left (not counting the day I gained crossing the date line).

I know you enjoyed the visit from Mary Elizabeth and I am glad you have been getting out and about.  I am glad Emily is so prompt.  It will have to be her job to keep the family on time.  I am sorry George Bull went on such a wild goose chase, but I may get to see him yet.  However, most everyone I know is in Korea now.  The situation is rather difficult there now and I knew it would be before I left the states.  What with the Russians in an arbitrary half of the country, and all the Japanese officials removed and no trained Korean technicians or proven leaders to take over.  Also the Koreans feel they have been liberated and don't want anyone telling them what to do.  Here, other than such problems as food and shelter, everything seems to be running smoothly.  The Japs run everything and we just tell them what we want and they break their necks to do it without any apparent evasion.  For instance, they had stripped two of the four elevators out of this building to get the metal.  They were told to replace them and now they are swarming up and down in the elevator shaft like bees in a hollow tree.

I have wished for the movie camera many times on this trip, but I don't think you had better try to send it.  By the time it arrived and I got film coming regularly I would be back home -- I hope.  And it might get lost or broken.

You are a very smart girl to get your stove fixed and to take such good care of the car.  When you leave be sure to sell Mrs. Baldwin all the oil and butane you have on hand.  She sold it to me when I moved in, and said such a transfer was customary there.

I like the piece on youth very much.  It is quite true, and I believe Dad was a young man when he died.  It has been nearly ten years now.  Can you realize it?

Tell Emily and Monty I wrote to them last night and will write again soon.  I enjoyed their letters very much.  Emily is developing a very nice handwriting and I know Monty is going to, also, if she keeps on working hard.  I know they enjoy Ed Singy's visit, and they really caught some fish!  My!  So Monty is going out visiting over night!  What big girls you have, mama!

The only criticism of your letters so far is that you didn't date several of them, and you didn't tell me enough about Martha.

I am looking forward with great anticipation to the result of Siederneck's work.  He had fine material on which to work and should get results.

I am glad we got to see Carlsbad Caverns and the Grand Canyon together instead of separately as Mary E. and George are doing.

I think it is a fine idea for you to ask Father to come out and drive back with you.  It will mean a lot of traveling for him, but it will be over new territory and with his grandchildren, and that should make a difference.  I will write him and tell him how much I will appreciate it if he can.  By the way, when you get to Atlanta, don't say anything about that waiver to any telephone people.  There was no harm in it, but I think it best not to talk it around.

The Halloween party sounded like a lot of fun.  I know the children had a big time.

I know Bryant is disappointed at the prospects of Carl having to stay out another year.  Where is he?  If I get home before he does, I don't think I will be able to face her.  I am already scheduled for a week's "special duty" at a rest camp located in a swank hotel in the mountains -- next spring if I am still here.

Ate supper tonight with a Lt. Col. Smith that taught me when I first started in the army at Ft. Monroe.  He was also on Handwerk's staff at Edwards.

Thanks for Wrightson's address.  Maybe we will be able to get together.  Kobe is not too far from here.  I will write him.

I wrote Mr. Hay and Mother 'Cile the other day.

I will be looking forward to your letters all the time now.  I love you more than anything else in the world, my darling.

Bill

*******************

George and Mary Elizabeth Bull were great friends of my grandparents, and remained so for the rest of their lives.  I don't know the facts about how they met, but I do remember my grandfather saying how great it was to travel with George Bull, because it was easier than bringing along a set of encyclopedias.  I accompanied my grandparents and the Bulls on a trip to Alaska in 1977, and I can confirm my grandfather's claim.  He was a quiet and insightful man, tall and lanky, with a wry smile that always put you at ease.  His wife, on the other hand, was a garrulous, effusive sort who seemed the antithesis of George.  She was a good sport, always loved a joke, and was generally a fun person to have around, but she had an uncanny ability to misjudge situations and speak before really giving things much thought.

George Bull shows up in subsequent letters, since he was also being sent hither and yon by the Army after the war and would occasionally pass through Tokyo.  It always seemed to me that George was my grandfather's best friend, and it was a joy to watch the two of them interact while I was on that Alaska trip.

I have no idea about Ed Singy, Siederneck or a Mr. Hoy.  And it may actually be Mr. Hay, I'm not sure.  My grandfather's o's and a's are indistinguishable, which is not a problem 99% of the time because of context.  It's only a problem when he writes names that are of people or places I don't know and that could be spelled correctly either way, like Hay or Hoy. 

Bryant Holsenbeck Moore is my grandmother's sister, and her late husband, (Thomas) Carl Moore, was in the Marines during the war and fought in many battles in the Pacific Theater, including Guadalcanal.  They were stationed in Hawaii when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.  I don't know the specifics of Carl's "having to stay out another year," but I do know that Bryant was living with her parents at 992 Washita Ave. in Atlanta, which is where Frances and her daughters eventually moved in December.  Bryant and Frances' parents were Daniel Marshall Holsenbeck, Jr. (referred to in these letters as Father or Pop) and Lucile Dixon Kiser Holsenbeck (who everyone called Mother 'Cile).

Bill and Frances Gillham with their new daughter, Emily, 1935

Behind Bill are his inlaws, Lucile Holsenbeck (Mother Cile) and

Daniel Marshall Holsenbeck (Pop).  Behind Frances are her inlaws,

George Halsey Gillham and Effie Tucker Gillham.

Taken at 992 Washita Avenue, Atlanta

Ft. Monroe is located in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia, across the James River from Norfolk.  Maj. Gillham was stationed there in 1940-41 for officers training, before the family headed out to La Jolla, CA, in 1941.

Capt. Gillham at Fort Monroe, VA, 1941

Capt. Gillham (third from right) with Bell Telephone colleagues

at officers training in Fort Monroe, VA, 1941

"Edwards" refers to Camp Edwards, which is located on the southern part of Cape Cod, MA.  It was used as an Army training facility and sending off point for new draftees during World War II.  Maj. Gillham was stationed there in 1943 and the family lived in the nearby town of Monument Beach.

Monty and Emily Gillham showing off their doll collection

Monument Beach, MA, Christmas 1943

I will be heading out to Harlem, GA, tomorrow to visit my Aunt Emily, and I will be sure to run some of these names, places and questions by her when I am out there.

Assigned to Gen. MacArthur's staff, yet still awaiting orders to move

In this letter, his last written at the U.S. Army camp in Zama, Maj. Gillham reveals that he is to be assigned to Gen. MacArthur's staff.  He does so with amazingly little fanfare or ballyhoo, and slips easily back into mundane questions to Frances about friends and family back home.  I am sure he was long aware that this assignment was a distinct possibility, since he had been trained at the School of Military Goverment in Charlottesville, VA, in 1940 and was taught Japanese language and culture at the University of Chicago in 1944 before being transferred to Fort Ord, CA.  Still, his announcement is startlingly brief, considering how famous MacArthur was at the time and in what great esteem he was held by my grandfather, who didn't hand out praise to army personnel lightly.

Zama, Japan
5 Nov 1945

Dearest Darling,

The last few letters that I have written you were done in a crowded room with much discussion taking place, and they may not have made much sense.  It is now 1300 and nearly everyone is out on pass.  My group couldn't get a pass so we may be going to move soon.  I hope so, for I have about seen enough of this place.

However, I believe I have a good temperament for being shipwrecked on a desert island.  I don't tend to get the "whim-whams" in a place like this, as some do.  I guess it may be because I spent a lot of time alone when I was a child.

I just drank the last of my California water.  That seems like a long time for one canteen of water to last, but I find that when I drink all the liquid they pour at us at meals, I don't want any more water.  I have had practically no indigestion, and very little rheumatism since I left, I am glad to say.

I understand that our mail goes to Manila and that is probably the reason we don't have any yet.  I don't know my section yet, but you may start addressing me as follows:

Maj. W.T. Gillham 0-272207
GHQ-SCAP Adv. Esch.
APO #500
c/o P.M. San Francisco, Calif.

As soon as I know my section I will give you that also, and it will probably speed up delivery a few days.  SCAP stands for "Supreme Command Allied Powers," so it looks like I will wind up on MacArthur's staff.

I hope that you all are getting along all right.  Did you get the stove cleaned?  How is the weather there?  Is the car doing all right?  Has Martha walked yet?  I would love to see her step out.  How are all the neighbors?  How are Nelly and Cousin John?  Have you heard from Ellen?  Did Jack get home?  What do you hear of Mother?  The time-space factor between us is getting too big.  I would love to be with you.  I prefer our double sleeping bag with you in it to the one I am using now.  I need you to keep my feet warm, and to divide a bottle of champagne with me.

Lots of love,

Bill

**************

Douglas MacArthur graduated at the top of his class of 93 at West Point in 1903 and went on to become one of only five men to be named General of the Army (i.e., five stars).  He served in World War I and was promoted to Brigadier General just before the Armistice, at age 38;  thus he was often referred to as the "boy general." At the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, he was the Allied commander in the Philippines and was soon forced to retreat to Australia when the Japanese captured Manila.  It was in Australia that he made his famous pledge to the Filipinos, "I shall return," which he did in October, 1944, leading the Allied recapture of the island nation.  In Manila he formulated plans for "Operation Downfall," an air and sea invasion of Japan similar to the one in Normandy.  However, the nuclear attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 made this plan unnecessary, and on September 2, he accepted the surrender of Japan aboard the U.S.S. Missouri.

In his role as Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers, MacArthur was, in effect, the leader of the Japanese nation from 1945 to 1948.  His decision to exonerate Emperor Hirohito and the royal family of any charges of war crimes was severely criticized in the West yet endeared him immensely to the people of Japan.  With this good will he was able to begin a primitive democratization of Japan, and in 1946 he and his staff drafted a new constitution that is still in use today.

One of MacArthur's initiatives was to have dozens of copies of the film Gone With The Wind flown to Japan and shown in theaters around the country.  The idea was to illustrate to the Japanese how a nation devastated by war and defeat could rebuild itself with what Scarlett O'Hara called gumption.  The film is still very popular in Japan, which explains why over 25% of the visitors at the Margaret Mitchell House are Japanese.

Gen. MacArthur's 130th birthday is next Tuesday.

The iconic image of Gen. MacArthur,

with open collar, sunglasses and corn cob pipe

The meeting between MacArthur and Hirohito, Sept. 27, 1945,

one of the most famous photos in Japanese culture

The first days in Japan, and some spousal advice

Once he had settled into his digs at the U.S. Army replacement depot at Zama, southwest of Tokyo, Maj. Gillham began sending letters on a regular basis, about one every two days.  He wrote them on sturdy 8" x 10" stationery, often with matching envelopes, and attached a 6-cent air mail stamp, pictured below:

These red-tinted (or carmine) stamps were by far the most popular air mail stamps of the 1940s, with over 4.7 billion printed.  Occasionally Maj. Gillham would post his letters in a pre-stamped air mail envelope with the familiar blue and red striped borders.


Japan
31 Oct 45

Dearest Darling,

I have written you several V-Mail and air mail letters so far.  I think I will send this one straight for an experiment.  I understand that all mail goes by air as far as S.F.  If that is true and with you so close to S.F., this should make as good time as any -- maybe better.  Let me know how long this one takes.

If you can, please send me a couple of 100 watt light bulbs, a couple of padlocks and some assorted Singer sewing machine needles.  I know that is a funny combination, but there seems to be a national shortage of light bulbs, and I didn't put any in my locker.  The padlock on my foot locker was broken off in shipment and I lost the key to the extra lock that I brought.  I imagine locks are unobtainable also.  The needles I understand are excellent trade goods, but don't go to too much trouble to get them, if they are scarce in the U.S. also.  Those are about the only things that I see I need so far.  Except for the lock on the trunk, all my things came in fine shape.

I haven't seen much of Japan yet, but the weather today could be Arkansas in the middle of winter.  It has rained all day long without a let up, and the black mud is everywhere.  We were very fortunate indeed that it was good weather the day we debarked.

One of the boys in the room with me has a radio, and we get the Armed Forces Radio station in Tokyo.  The programs are very good, much better than any I remember in the states.  There are no commercials except occasionally an announcement such as "VDMT VDMT" which upon decoding is translated as venereal disease means trouble.  We also can get a Japanese station.  I can get words and phrases of what they say but miss the context generally.  The accent and the pronunciation is exactly as we were taught.

A couple of officers who were substituted on our order at the last minute and couldn't bring any equipment were permitted to go into Tokyo to a Q.M. Depot today to get some.  One was going to try to send a cable to his wife, if such facilities were available.  I asked him to send you one if possible.  He hasn't come back yet so I don't know the answer.

As far as knowing what is going to happen to me, I am still in transit for all practical purposes.  However, they say they don't keep you here long and I should know something soon.

How are you?  And what you doing and planning to do?  I am very anxious to hear from you.  We may get some mail in a few days if we are still here.  Did you get the oil changed in the car?  Remember to keep the tires properly inflated.  If some of them are getting smooth before you start back to Georgia, get them retreaded.  It only costs about $7 and takes a couple of days.  If more than one tire is involved, you will have to leave them one at a time, so start working on it before the last minute.  Darling, you have plenty of time for anything you start to do, so don't go and work yourself down trying to get something over with in a hurry.  When you get tired, slow down -- don't fight the thing you are working on.  I have known you long enough to realize that that is one of the biggest dangers that you face now.  If you can keep yourself and the children well, you will have won half the battle.

Did you pay Becker Roofing?  If you haven't, drop them a note and explain the delay.  That is always a good policy if you can't handle a bill promptly.

Must stop now and go to chow.  They are feeding about 10,000 men here, under terrible conditions, and putting out good food.  All the cooking is on field ranges, and they have no refrigeration or other refinements.  We eat out of our mess kits and I am careful to wash them well in three waters, boiling hot.  We always have great quantities of butter.  I can see why it had to be rationed in the states.

They have an ingenious arrangement for keeping hot water here.  The Japs left a big "wash boiler" mounted over a fire box.  When you want hot water, you dip out a helmetful, replace the water and put a stick on the fire. Thus there is always hot water for everyone.

Tell Col. Post that I sprinkled some water from the Robles del Rio water works on the shores of Japan as soon as I landed.

Lots of love,

Bill

***************

Zama is a town in the Kanagawa Prefecture, about 45 miles southwest of Tokyo.  The Imperial Japanese Army Academy was established there in 1937, and after the war the facilities were refashioned by the Allies into Camp Zama, where Maj. Gillham was quartered.  The U.S. Army camp is still in use today, primarily the base of operations of the U.S. Army Japan and I Corps (yes, the same I Corps that Radar O'Reilly was constantly trying to get on the phone in the TV series M*A*S*H).

The "Q.M. depot" mentioned in this letter refers to the Quartermaster Corps, which is a combat support service branch of the U.S. Army.  It is responsible for general supplies (except ammunition and medical), food service, petroleum and water, shower and laundry facilities, and also mortuary affairs.

The Armed Forces Radio Service mentioned above was part of the larger American Forces Network (AFN) which was established during the war, in May 1942.  It would broadcast popular American radio programs, as well as news and bulletins.

In September 1944, a nonfraternization order was imposed by the occupying Allied command in Europe, forbidding the mingling of Allied troops with the enemy "upon the terms of friendliness, familiarity or intimacy, individually or in groups, in official or unofficial dealings." This was part of an effort to limit the spread of venereal and other sexually-transmitted diseases among the troops.  This directive was later expanded to include the Pacific Theater after V-J Day.  The AFN mounted a PSA campaign to this end, broadcasting a simple spoken message, "VDMT," several times a day for weeks, until it was finally revealed to mean "venereal disease means trouble."  This was usually followed by the admonishment, "For a moment of play you may have to pay."

Throughout his correspondence, Maj. Gillham refers to the Japanese people as "Japs," which was common practice at the time, especially among American troops.  There is, of course, an implied hostility when referring to the enemy as "Japs" or "Krauts," but I think for the most part my grandfather's use of the word "Jap" is fairly neutral and simply explanatory.  In subsequent letters he will also use the term "Oriental," which has only recently been relegated to the non-PC bin.  Also, later he will use the term "Negro" when referring to African Americans, which was the accepted norm in the 1940s.

Japan at last! Arrival at Yokohama

The first letter written on land was another V-Mail, giving a brief account of his arrival in Yokohama.  The return address reads:  Maj. W.T. Gillham, APO 22958, c/o PM San Francisco, Calif.

30 Oct 45

Dearest Darling,

We got into Yokohama last night and spent most of the night moving by truck & rail to Replacement Depot #4, about 25 or 30 miles from Tokyo, near the Atsugi Air Base.  It is an old Jap army cantonment and has just been occupied a few days, and everything is a mess, but I don't expect to be here long.  The boat trip was fine and on schedule.  Saw Fuji Yama as we came into the bay.  I am in fine shape, but you need to be.  Got my foot locker O.K.  I don't expect any mail for a while yet.

Lots of love,

Bill

***********

Modern-day view of Mt. Fuji from the Pacific Ocean,

with the U.S.S. Curtis Wilbur in the foreground.

Modern map of Tokyo Bay, showing Yokohama,

where the Mayo docked.

The first letters: Aboard ship, heading for Japan

The first letters sent by my grandfather, Maj. William Tucker Gillham, were from aboard the transport ship U.S.S. Admiral Henry Thomas Mayo, which had begun escorting occupation troops to Japan beginning in September, 1945, about a month after V-J Day.  The ship left on October 17, 1945, from Pier 45 in San Francisco, California, bound for Yokohama, Japan, a large port city located on Tokyo Bay.

His initial correspondence was written on the day of embarkation, on normal 6"x 10" stationery.  It was just a short note written aboard ship, after having just said good-bye to his family earlier that day at the Monterey station as he boarded his train for San Francisco.  The letter was addressed to Mrs. W.T. Gillham in Robles del Rio, California, a small town in the Carmel Valley about 15 miles east of the city of Carmel.  Major Gillham and his wife, Frances, and their three daughters, Emily, 10; Monty (my mother), 7; and Martha, 8 months; were living there in a small vacation cabin owned by friends who lived in Oakland. The Gillhams had been there since February 1945, while Major Gillham was stationed at Fort Ord, about 20 miles away.

The Gillhams, Christmas 1943

Monty and Emily hold their dolls

Monument Beach, MA

 

San Francisco, Calif.
17 Oct 45
1500

Dearest Love,

Well, I am aboard ship and it is a very nice one -- a big new Navy transport about 600' long.  There are nine of us in a stateroom (Majors and Lt Cmdrs).  It is a little crowded, but we have good beds and plenty of room on deck to roam around.  It should be a fairly quick voyage.

I hated to leave you and the children this morning.  You were very brave and cheerful.  You have a big job to take care of our family while I am away, but I know you will do a good job of it.

I will remember last night as long as I am away.  You are a very sweet wife.  I love you with all my heart.

Don't forget to change the oil in the car.

I am not sure that I can get this mailed before I get to the other side or not, but am writing it just in case I can.

Remember, I love you.

Bill

**********

His second letter was in the form of a V-Mail, or Victory Mail, which was a standardized system for delivering mail between troops and the homefront during the war and thereafter. V-Mail used standard 7" x 9-1/8" stationery that had a glue flange on one side so that the page could be folded in such a way as to become its own envelope.  This letter was written five days out to sea.


22 Oct 1945

Dearest Darling,

We are now about halfway across and I thought I would write this so I would have it to mail at the first opportunity. I have been keeping up my diary and I feel like I have written to you after I make an entry. We cross the date line tomorrow and thereby get an extra day's pay. So far it has been a fairly rough voyage but I have eaten three fine meals every day and kept them all down. This is a fine ship -- one of the best in the transport service. I will write several letters before the end of the trip. I am well and hope you and the children are too.

Lots of love,

Bill

************

The U.S.S. Mayo was named for Thomas Henry Mayo, a Navy admiral who served in the Spanish-American War and World War I.  The Mayo was a so-called Benson-class Navy transport ship that was commissioned in the last days of World War II.  She transported over 5,000 released American prisoners of war from Le Havre, France, to Boston, and then moved nearly 5,000 troops from Marseilles, France, to Okinawa.  Once in the Pacific, the ship was used as a part of Operation Magic Carpet, transporting U.S. troops from the Western Pacific back home to the U.S. mainland beginning in September, 1945.  Major Gillham was aboard the Mayo on one such return trip to Tokyo.  Below is a photograph of the Mayo taken in 1945.

Welcome to "Letters from Japan"

A little over a year ago, in the fall of 2008, I made the short trip from Atlanta to visit my Aunt Martha and Uncle Jack in Dalton, GA, a small city located just south of the Tennessee state line near Chattanooga. The main reason for my visit was to have dinner and take home a basket of bounty from their prize-winning vegetable garden; Martha, my mother's sister, had also arranged to hand over to me the correspondence of her father, William Tucker Gillham, with her mother, Frances Holsenbeck Gillham, written while he was stationed in Japan just after World War II. Martha had started transcribing into a Word document her father's side of the correspondence, which contained interesting descriptions of Japan and of his work there with the U.S. Army, and she had subsequently emailed the various installments of her efforts to members of our family. Since I had earned the reputation of the de facto family historian of my generation, I offered to help her with the transcription, and she seemed only too pleased to hand the work over to me.

After dinner, my aunt mentioned that she also had the other half of the correspondence; that is, the letters written by her mother in Atlanta back to her father in Japan. I immediately asked her if I might have these letters as well, as they would create the full correspondence and add the home-front element to my grandfather's journal of a soldier's work overseas.

Upon reading the correspondence in full, I was struck by many things, not least of which was how effectively it complimented my own knowledge and remembrances of my grandparents, making them into human beings more fully than I was able to do as a boy in my teens. By the time one is aware of one's grandparents they are fairly well situated in life, and it's hard to imagine them having once had to cope with the thirtysomething angsts of child rearing, mortgages, absence, etc. Beyond that, though, I also discovered several universal elements in the letters that would be of interest to non-family members as well -- the operation of the U.S. Army in Japan after the war, the typical problems of a "single" wife raising three children, and the human drama of a loving couple trying to keep their relationship alive while on different ends of the earth.

Maj. and Mrs. William T. Gillham, 1943

These letters will be of most interest to the Gillham-Holsenbeck family and their friends, and it is primarily for them that I have set up this blog.  Of course, the general blog-reading public is welcome to participate as well while I systematically transcribe this correspondence. My Aunt Martha has already done much of the typing of her father's entries, and for that I am very grateful. As you can imagine, these are letters written by real people, so they will not read like a Rousseau novel or other literary contrivances like Love Letters or the sort. I have not edited any of the grammar or style of the letters, but I have taken the liberty of correcting misspellings. For all of my grandfather's mastery of any number of subjects during the course of his life, he was a notoriously bad speller; I fear that the constant stumbling of the average reader over my grandfather's howlers would prove distracting in the long run.

Major Gillham's first letter is dated October 17, 1945, and unfortunately I have not located any letters written by Frances Gillham until just after the new year, in January, 1945.   This is one of the pitfalls of historic research.  However, due to the military transition from wartime to occupation and the change of Major Gillham's APO address upon arrival in Japan, he didn't actually receive any letters from Frances until mid-November, 1945.  Once he begins answering her letters, though, it becomes fairly clear from the context the sort of questions and news Frances has included in her letters.  If I ever do get my hands on the missing letters from Frances, I will of course post them in sequence retroactively and announce this in the most recent post.

I will also add occasional notes and clarifications, which will be inserted before and/or after a letter. My explanatory sections will appear in this font, and the letters will appear in italics, to help differentiate the two. After all, italics does make typeface look a little more like cursive handwriting.

I will make every attempt to update this blog on a daily basis; in any event, the entries shouldn't appear more than two days apart. This is my very first blog, so please feel free to send me criticism (constructive or otherwise), tips, advice, encouragement, or even complaints. I will be gradually finding my way through the world of blogging as I go, but any help would be greatly appreciated.

So, to begin your journey, just click the 01/13/10 link below to the left, which will take you to the first letter.  After you read the first letter, simply click on the date of the next post (always located below left) to proceed to the next letter, and so on.