WAUPACA COUNTY POST

May 6, 1920

 

VETERANS’ HOME

 

Letter From Edward Lowth

(Written to a friend at the Home.)

 

            I am reminded today that I promised to write you a letter descriptive of the country through which I passed on my way out here, or as much of it as I was able to see.  Of my first day out there is little to write, for we all know that Wisconsin and Illinois are devoid of scenery, and we are well aware that there is no finer faced country in the world than in those two states, and none more productive.  The fine residences, the barns, silos and the large herds of fine cattle, give ample testimony of prosperity and a contented people.  As we went south on that day I noticed that there was a great deal of snow in the vicinity of Waukesha and the farther south we went, the less snow, and at Chicago there was none.  I got a supper in Chicago for which I paid the very reasonable and modest (?) sum of $1.40.  I went aboard the Santa Fe train at ten-thirty and went immediately to bed.  When I awoke in the morning we were scudding along thirty miles an hour through Missouri, which is a very nice farming country, but the buildings, the fences and the stock told me plainly that the people lacked the push and energy of our Wisconsin people, or Illinois either.  At ten-thirty Thursday morning we pulled into Kansas City which, like ancient Rome, is built on seven hills.  It is a large and apparently a very busy place.  Of course, all I could see was from the car, but we ran clear through the city parallel with all the manufacturing plants, and there were a great many of them.  We traveled the balance of the day south and southwest through Missouri and Kansas.  From what I saw of Kansas I should say it is a great agricultural state.  The cattle in this state as well as Missouri are all the white-faced Herefords and very nice cattle they are.  Some time after dark Thursday night we ran into Oklahoma, but of this state I cannot write a word for I never saw a foot of the land.  I know, however, that the chief product is wheat. When I awoke in the morning we were running through a most beautiful faced country, principally gracing lands, and it was northern Texas.  After running several hours through beautiful Texas we crossed the line into New Mexico. Through this state I saw nothing but rocks and broken hills and Mexican tract men, until in the afternoon of Friday we began the ascent of the Ratoun mountains. The ascent and descent was about the same as in the Rockies:  silent, lonely and picturesquely grand; the little firs and balsams on either side of us as we passed through the valleys or gorges, standing guard over this particular part of God’s acre, as if to prevent any sacrilege to be perpetrated on these mountains, and to ever preserve them as God had left them to the world. We ran down the mountains from an elevation of 9,000 feet above sea level.  The balance of New Mexico through which we passed was a broken mass of rocks and gulches and hills.  Sometime in the night we crossed the Arizona “arid zone” and found this about the same as New Mexico, until we reached the western part of the state when we passed through two or three nice looking places, but for my life I could not discover what it was that kept them up.  I feel safe in saying that it is not the agriculturists.  We finally ran across the Arizona lien and into California a little after twelve noon.

            Eastern California was no improvement over Arizona, as far as I could see until we came to a station called Barstow, in honor, I presume, of one of Wisconsin’s early day Governors.  Here we had dinner at three p.m. and a good dinner I assure you.  After dinner was over, three-thirty, I had but five hours to ride until I reached my destination.  I was landed at North Pomona, two miles from where my friends live, and was so fortunate as to meet a man with an auto whose wife was on the same train and he played the good Samaritan and took me right to the door of my friends, who have a very nice home.  Now I come to that part of my letter in which I know that pen of min cannot adequately describe the beauties of this city.  It is a place of about 15,000 people, located in a valley, and to the east and north are high mountains the tops of which are covered with snow; while here in the city, vegetation is as far advanced as it is in Wisconsin in June.  Every bungalow in the city has its nice lawn; the sidewalks all cement and curbing four or five feet outside the walks, the streets are wide and all paved with asphalt and a cleaner, prettier place I was never in.  In most of the yards you will find three or four palm trees and between the sidewalks and the curbing are the shade trees.  You cannot look in any direction even here in the city but that you see an orange or a lemon grove.  They have finished, or nearly so, the picking of their naval oranges, and are now picking their Valencias, which are a little later.  There are four banks and all different branches of business are up to the standard.  They have two nice parks, street cars, and all other modern improvements.  I am going Saturday to Santa Ana to see my sister, and perhaps at some time in the future I may write you of the oil wells between here and there.  I am tired and I guess you will be by the time you have finished reading this letter.  Remember me to those who inquire for me.

                                                                                                            Sincerely yours,

                                                                                                                        EDWARD LOWTH