Well, we’ve just had eight inches of snow – but I’m just
ignoring the fact because it is Spring – the calendar says so and
the crocus popping its head through the ground tells me so, – and
by the time you receive this magazine, Easter 1964 will be over –
but I hope it leaves us all with some renewed courage to face the
forthcoming days. Spring and Easter always seem like a new
bringing life to the winter-ravaged earth, so do our ideals and
desires blossom again and we set our sights on the fulfillment of
our dreams for another season.
I believe we have a cot of material this issue so I won’t
ramble on too much.
I have a letter from Leonce C. Bullock of Santa Ana, California
and Leonce had sent our magazine to a friend of his and as Leonce
states, ‘the friend is not as ‘daffy’ over steam
engines as I am, but yet I can see that he is enjoying it,’ and
he wishes us to quote from the letter of his friend: ‘Last week
I received the first issue of the engine magazine. You really went
out of your way, Leonce, to put me on the subscription list for a
year. Yes, you were quite right when you said in your letter, that
I might not be quite as enthusiastic about engines as you are, but
still it may give me some entertainment, and the recollection of
memories of by-gone years. Yes, I enjoy it, and and to read the
stories or letters that are connected with the pictures. Such
engine names, like Huber, Nichols-Shephard and Red River Special
separator really refreshed my memory, to think back when the big
black monsters came puffing into the yard, along with everything
else to make up the parade; water wagon, sleeping wagon, crew
members and pitch forks galore. Then came the shaping of a giant
straw-stack, amid dust, chaff and thistle down. The long dining
tables with benches or planks to take place of chairs, and lunch
time with it’s keg of beer. All this has vanished and only us
‘old-timers’ can remember. To the young generation it is
only like a fairy tale. Even the old hen, who so relished to lay
her eggs in a self made nest, some-where in the new straw stack,
and occasionally came forth a few weeks later with a brood of
belated chicks, is slowly disappearing. She (the hen) is meeting
with the same fate as the Indian. Banded together and put on a
reservation, there to exist and do her work. The joy of wallowing
in the dust, and having the run of the barnyard, to feast on a
worm, but or beetle has ruthlessly been taken away from her by the
white man.’ – Always your friend, Henry Veit.’
And Leonce goes on to say – ‘I think this letter of his is
quite clear that the magazine is causing him to respond to the
memories deeply seated in the back of his brain, and the years
subscription to him will have supplied its purpose – give him real
enjoyment.’
I thought that was a nice letter and rather boosts our ego –
makes us feel good to know we are providing some enjoyment.
And to close with a few of my sayings – White-washing the pump
will not purify the water.–Christians are like tea-their full
strength is not drawn out until they get into hot water.–The teeth
may be false but let the tongue be true.– Kindness is the oil that
takes the friction out of life.
