March 8th 1933, Pine Inn, Carmel-by-the-sea, California
Beloved Family,
Letters from Mother and Daddy arrived on Saturday, and it’s now Wednesday, and the day before Mother’s birthday, but owing to the shortage of money in the country I’m not sure if I shall be able to send a wire. I think I timed a letter to arrive on the right day though. From her came two letters to be strictly accurate, so they did both catch the same mail, a typewritten one with the addresses of Mrs Farmer’s relatives in Vancouver, and all about everything at home, including comments on my letters in re honesty etc, which I don’t think I shall go into now but we’ll discuss it all when I come home because letters are rather a difficult medium of expression, especially at such a distance.
Now, about coming home, it looks as though you’ll have to expect me when you see me – becos why – owing to the financial situation in this country, we shall just to wait until they open the banks before we can get any money. Even the Lord can’t deal with returned cheques at the moment, although He’ll doubtless provide in some other way, but at the moment there is practically no cash in the country. It’s absurd in a way and frightfully serious. So we must just see what happens.
I mean, we aren’t destitute or starving, but the very fact of the situation in the country being so awful means that they need this all the more, and people really are beginning to cotton on to the fact that it works in business, ie that honesty in the end, especially on a Christian basis, is the only thing that’s going to restore trust and confidence to the country. So parents dear – expect me when you see me.
We listened to Roosevelt’s inauguration which was fun, and also funny, because there was a man making a running commentary on the proceedings to fill in the time before Roosevelt appeared and he (R) took about half an hour longer to come than he’d got small talk for, so every five minutes or so he would say, “Any moment now we shall see President Roosevelt appearing on the ramp. He will be escorted by Ex President Hoover and will walk down the ramp, through the crowd and on to the inaugural platform” – pause – “At any moment now, this great day in American history will reach its culmination” – pause – “the senator for Kansas City has just blown his nose. It cannot be many minutes now before the President, escorted by President Hoover…..” and so on intermittently for over half an hour until we became feeble with laughter every time it was announced. Fortunately the great man did ultimately arrive, and “burst upon the waiting gaze of 120,000 spectators” “they have come through the portico on to the portico shade(?)” and then Roosevelt delivered his address in which he generalised a good bit about what he was going to do, and was loudly cheered, but it didn’t sound fearfully helpful to me. It’s simply a new administration and the change of spirit has yet to come.
I imagine this stoppage must pretty well be paralysing world trade, and will do so if it goes on much longer. We even have to think twice about buying a postage stamp. One of the big business men in Detroit came down to San Francisco for a week just before the stoppage and was landed there with 5 dollars in cash, and it was quite impossible to get any more. Frank is allowing us a dollar at a time for immediate needs, but we have to look at every cent we spend, and send letters by hand if possible. I think the banks are going to open on a limited withdrawal basis tomorrow. So that’s how things stand over here.
It’s a great adventure and we’re not worried, so don’t you be.
I ought to have sent you a postcard of San Francisco and the Golden Gate, because it is awfully historic and romantic all over California and especially there. It’s the oldest settled part of the states, and I’ve learnt an incredible amount that I didn’t know before. All about it being settled by the Spanish padres in the 18th century and the missions which are considered practically antediluvian, because houses 60 years (old) are almost unheard of.
Some of us saw the giant redwood trees which are 6000 years old, but I somehow missed it. The car I was in went round a different way, (they’re between San Francisco and here, and we motored over). SF is 130 miles from here but the San Franciscans thought nothing of motoring us over in a day and then driving home again. We’re having, or rather just had, 3 days rest by the sea; basking in the sun on a vast beach, riding, playing tennis and going for walks. It’s far warmer here after Vancouver (I think) which is permanently cold and generally foggy, especially in June and August.
We’re going by the night train to Los Angeles tonight and thence to Riverside for a second and I hope smaller house party before the team separates, which will mean that some go East through the Southern States, some through the northern States and the remainder through Canada. Talking of Canada, you know you never expressed any surprise at my meeting Richmond Robinson’s daughter in Toronto. How cold and unenthusiastic of you. I expect I shall see her again when we get back there; so do think up a kind message for her family, because they’re awfully friendly.
By the way, it became Mother’s birthday half way through this letter. I should have loved to have sent a wag (?), but you see how it is. I’m afraid there’ll be an awful gap between my last letter and this but I’ve been waiting to see what the plans were likely to be about my coming home or not, and the days slipped by before I could get any opportunity to talk it over with the pundits.
Daddy’s quite wrong in thinking he never writes. He tells me all the new yellow walks and the central heating, and the lawn and the alterations and everything. The horrors are Biddy and Val who have only written once since I’ve been away.
Love from
Maria
English