Letters from Grandpa 25 March 1916

The Brown Hotel
Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Eureka, Nevada

Miss Allene S. Kelley
Modesto 2800 Regent St.
Berkeley
California

Variety, sure enuff, is the spice of life, Dearest and if that little old measly correspondence card hadn't been backed up with a couple of lively, open souled, "you-ey" letters, ("chummy" you correctly called that kind dear) I'd have kicked like a steer. Anyhow I didn't have time to write a decent letter that day and it came as an excuse for the thing I sent. Then when those two letters came dear I was so jubilant I just couldn't write and I've been busy - every second - since yesterday morning and am going to be the balance of the day. You'll get this tho' dear just as soon as you would had I written it yesterday and mailed it last night,-so-Yes so-

This is a little over twenty four hours since I wrote that so, dear. And a patient is to blame for it.

Yesterday forenoon-(this is Saturday) I tho't I could steal "enuff" time to finish a letter- the delayed one,-but no such luck. Now I'm in Palisade, on the main line, and only thirty miles from home, and have forgotten what I was going to say after so; you must know tho' Allene dear, that it was something nice,-not a complaint. You can surly write lovely letters dear and these last three -(another has been received)- are excellent samples of your abilities in that line.

Golly dear, I wish the train I am waiting for was going to take me to Modesto,-and you. Time is an awful slow poke when you are anticipating some pleasure,--and it's sure running in low for me.

With love, dearest,
Always
Frank

March 25th

Letters from Grandpa 21 March 1916

The Brown Hotel
Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Eureka, Nevada

Miss Allene S. Kelley,
Modesto
California

Dearest:- Just for that little measly correspondence card I'm going to cut you short tonight and you don't need to get peeved about [it] either cause I've exhausted my supply of news and don't expect another batch till tomorrow, or next day, or after we get out of here. Anyhow you've gotten a couple of letters that took excess baggage rates and they aught to hold you for a while.

We will be in the land of life again Saturday night and I'll wire you as soon as we arrive so you'll know when to expect "dailies" again.

Don't you dare let your aunt Helene or anyone else talk you into believing I've thrown you over dear. Nor dont [sic] you send me any more correspondence cards when you have plenty of time for a real letter.~~~But I don't want to scold you dear when everything you say to me and everything you do makes me so happy.

Always yours
Frank
March 21st 1916

Letters from Grandpa 20 March 1916

The Brown Hotel
Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Eureka, Nevada

Miss Allene S. Kelley,
Modesto,
California

Allene Dearest:- All day yesterday the wind blew a gale and just before I started to bed I noticed it had banked up the clouds on all sides so I wasn't surprised when I "came to" this morning and found it trying to wash out my room by forcing rain drops in thru' the open window! Maybe the Lord forgot that Saturday night just passed and tried to give me the bath I didn't need. If it doesn't let up pretty soon it will turn into snow, as these storms always do, and then that'll put the roads out of commission for another few weeks,--and just when they were getting almost passable.

Of course Elko has warm weather dear--and yes, it does get very warm there. An even hundred in the shade is the hottest I ever saw it there tho'. But Elko is high and dry,- 5,000 feet above sea level,- so there is little or no humidity and the air is always nice and cool just after the sun goes down,-and if you don't like hot weather you can wait till after sunset.

I just noticed in your letter that buried is spelled with one r and I remember of telling you our office at Midas was burried under the snow (with two r's.)  But now we are even dear, because w-i-e-r-d is a weird way to spell weird. Maybe tho you've discovered a lot of misspelling in my letters but didn't say anything about it~~Have you?

In my letter of yesterday dear, I think I said it all so I'm compelled to leave you now and wait for the inspirations tomorrow's mail will bring.

With all my love dearest,
I'm always yours
Frank

Eureka, Nevada,
Monday, March 20th, 1916.

My Dad, A. F. Sauls

Today is my father's birthday. He passed away in 1995, but had he lived he would be 89.

Alva Fay Sauls, who was known to all as Fay, was born 1 May 1923 in California. He married Frances Russell (1925-2004) in 1948. He died 7 Jan 1995 in Idaho. Between those times he served in World War II, worked as an attorney, raised children, hunted and fished, loved his family and friends, and lived a life.

I don't have a lot of pictures of him. In my first post are two of him as a young man. Here is one from the late 1980's:

Fay Sauls and grandson

Happy birthday, Dad! I love you.

Letters from Grandpa 19 March 1916

The Brown Hotel
Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Eureka, Nevada

Miss Allene S. Kelley,
Modesto,
California

Just see what I've missed Dearest!- and to show you I'll enclose it.

If I hadn't gone back to Elko and met Dr. Whitesides my name would have been coupled with Carl's, that is Mr. C. G. Jepson, and I'd have been in the market for "Livestock in Carload Lots" and with all those other things he's got on the card. The complexion of his other stationery (letterheads and envelopes) is just as unusual and impressive as that of the card and it sure makes a hit with me. I call it C.L.A.S.S. The unusual always did appeal to me anyhow. By that I don't mean freakish nor ridiculous things.

Well dearest the dance is a thing of the past and I feel that I carried out my part in a dutiable manner. By midnight I had all the dancing I wanted but Thelma,-the little devil,-seemed to be just "beginning to commence" (Allene Kelley) to enjoy herself, so I just stood around and talked--with the fellows (you know how they always bunch up when they're not dancing), and danced occasionally till three o'clock and the bloomin' kid made no signs of getting tired so I had to tell her it was about time to go home. Gave her two more dances and then took them home. Their little brother, Peter Breen , Jr., was there and went home with us. 

I had a good time but had to "pay the fiddler" yesterday as I had a lot of work to do and had to get up at the usual time. The twelve and a half hours sleep I got last night has put me back to normal and I feel fine this morning. Anyhow the two letters I rec'd from you last night helped a whole lot, dear, toward making the world brighter. And to dim everything Pearlie Morrison, the landlord's daughter, just came in the parlor here and is favoring us with a few selections such as "Where the Silv'ry Colorado Wends It's [sic] Way" and others equally ancient. And after my telling her to get out, to go make the beds--that I was busy writing to the onliest girlie in the world~~and I meant every word of it too. Thank goodness!--She's gone - to make the beds I guess.

Is a person absent-minded when he's in love? I believe it does have it's effect alright and I know when you're always thinking of one thing or one person you haven't much time for other things and are therefore very apt to be accused of absent-mindedness.

So you wish Cressey [Cressey Maze -ed.] and Mariam would hurry up and get married. If it will relieve you of any suspense dear, I wish so too. I don't see what's the use of those prolonged engagements anyhow,~~unless financial or other equally important obstacles prevent. And Cressey's quiet is he dear, and his usual conversation is carried on in monosyllables such as yes and no in response to questions? I hope I'm not that way altho' I do get spells of silence among strangers. Wait and see-you be the judge dear as to my conversational abilities.

Old Bill Doyle, as I call him sometimes, got drunk as a Lord at the advent of Florence's arrival and she's proven worthy of the demonstration. She's the dearest, cutest little youngster I believe I ever saw.

I'm sorry you couldn't get the first ride in the little roadster Allene. You sure'd have had it had you been anywheres near, but I'll try and arrange so will have a ride in it before it's all worn out toting me around after these elusive eagles and double eagles. The pursuit of them is a pleasure notwithstanding the hardships it puts us to. There's a good time coming tho' for all of us, but let's make ourselves happy while we're waiting for it.

The tho'ts expressed in your missives, Allene dearest, and the others which I find between the lines add immensely to my happiness and I trust mine are likewise, equally, joy bearing. May they be the forerunners of something greater and better for us dearest, that's all now.

Ever yours only

Frank

Eureka, Nevada,

Sunday,

March 19th 1916.

Letters from Grandpa 17 March 1916

The Brown Hotel
Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Eureka, Nevada

Miss Allene S. Kelley,
Modesto,
California

Dearest, can you realize that I sat up till the night was half gone trying to comply with that unnecessary request of yours for a chummy letter? And this morning the result of my efforts is on it's (sic) pokey way to you. I called it an unnecessary request Allene because every spare moment I have-(yes and lots of others too are devoted to tho'ts of you dear)-seem to be yours. And it's a pleasure to know you appreciate them and ask for even more. Somehow or other as I look back and think of my last night's letter it appears labored and stupid, but as I've already told you, it's on its' way and anyhow it was the best I could do.

The train arrives here this evening and leaves for its return trip in the morning. The conductor for accomodation (sic) will carry letters etc. to Palisade so by giving him this letter dear you'll get it about the same time as the one that went out this morning.

In one of your letters, one of the three I got in yesterday's mail, you speak of having had a headachy (sic) attack followed by "tummy" ache and "kinda" blame the hot weather and here I am blessing the hot days but I'll cross that word out dear and substitute damn if you find they are really the cause of your trouble. I don't want you suffering all the time and so if praying will do any good~say dear I'll get down on my tender shin bones and stay there till I wear out everything on the points of contact.

Who is Erma dear, and where is the ranch and is there a rural delivery there? You know I don't like these compulsory lapses in our correspondence a darn bit and if you get away from civilization too it's going to be simply~~well you say it dear. This old place hasn't even got a telegraph now and messages have to be phoned and that means that almost everybody else gets 'em before the parties to whom they are sent.

Well we will leave here next Saturday, I'm very sure, so after Monday you'd better send the letters to Elko. The last mail we will be able to get will be that which leaves Palisade Wednesday morning. The service here is the worst I ever saw and these old timers who are sitting around here dead but don't know it~~~~~~~~~ (six hours later-a patient interrupted)~~~~~~~~keep hanging on believing there's a better time coming and I guess there is for them but it won't be in Eureka.

The patient who interrupted dear was Mrs. Breen, the district judge's wife. The family are very good friends of mine. I've known them for a number of years. Mrs. Breen is the greatest woman I ever saw. It seems as tho' she can't do too much for us. Every time I come to Eureka and stay any length of time she will send one of the children down every day or so with a fried chicken, a pie, or a cake or something equally palatable and say but you should see us dear. We just sit ourselves down in the handiest place, usually the middle of the floor, and go to it like hogs. And she enjoys it,-and so do we.~~Gee but I like Mrs. Breen.

There's a dance here tonight and I'm going. Going to take Eileen-(I wish it was Allene)-and Thelma. They wanted to go so I told their mother Mrs. Breen I'd take them. Eileen is about sixteen and Thelma is a couple of years younger. If it was anyplace else, I'd feel like grandpa in a nursery but guess it'll be alright here.

With all my love dearest and wishing again it was you I was taking I'll close.

Ever your own,
Frank

St Patrick's-1916
Eureka, Nevada

Letters from Grandpa 14 March 1916

The Brown Hotel
Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Eureka, Nevada

Miss Allene S. Kelley,
Modesto,
California

Allene Dearest:~After a long six hours ride in the dinky old narrow guage [sic] from Palisade on the main line we arrived safely, but much the worse for wear. Eureka, as it stands now--and little of it is standing,--is hardly a toombstone [sic] for what it used to be. For at least ten years during it's [sic] best days it had a population of as many thousands and was one of the liveliest camps in the state,--(that was in the "early days" from about 1880 to 1890)--but it has dwindled down to almost nothing.

It's a mystery to me how the remaining inhabitants live and it's a fact that a big percentage are wards of the county. There are five well filled cemeterys [sic] here that speak in sombre silence of the better days. Now not even the dogs come out to bark at strangers. As the old fashioned bus that meets the twice a week train carries you slowly up the hill thru' the town one can see on either side an occasional pair of sleepy eyes that seem to brighten up with excitement at your arrival and in an hour or two the entire community knows there's a stranger in town.

And we've got to stay here about two weeks!! Somehow or other I've always made money here. They seem to have plenty of tooth troubles and the money to pay for the fixing--thank God.

Well dearest it seems like a century since I got a letter from you--and it has been. Havent [sic] had one since Friday and here it is Tuesday--and the next mail won't arrive till Thursday! It takes two days for mail to go and come from the main line. In 1910 this R.R. was washed out and the mail contract was let to a stage line and they've been carrying it ever since. So at the best you won't get this before Friday dear and by that time I'll be in receipt of a whole raft of yours--I hope.

With all my love dearest I'll say good night.

Yours always,
Frank

Eureka, Nevada,
March 14th, 1916