Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Title
Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Creator
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958
Identifier
WWP23111
Date
1921 October 2
Description
Letter from Jon Bouman to his family.
Source
Gift of William C. and Evelina Suhler
Subject
Germany--History--1918-1933
Correspondence
Berlin, Germany
Contributor
Rachel Dark
Denise Montgomery
Language
English
Requires
PROOFREADING
Provenance
Evelina Suhler is the granddaughter of Jon Anthony Bouman and inherited the family collection of his letters from the years of World War I. She and her husband gave the letters to the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum in 2013.
Text
Sunday evening, Oct 2, 1921
Dearest,
I have two unanswered letters of yours, for the one dated Sep. 29 was just handed to me this evening. I am glad the children had happy birthdays, and much interested in Ethel’s visit to London and the Aumoniers’ new home.
I don’t think it will be very long now before I am back beside you again; I think in about a fortnight’s time; I expect Enderis will have a letter from Mr. Collins in a few days’ time asking if he can spare me yet. There seems to be no reason why I should remain here unless something breaks loose, worse than the waiters’ strike which started yesterday, much to the discomfiture of people who have to eat their meals in town. The Adlon seceded from the employees association and made its own arrangements with the staff. They remained at work with the result that all the people from the small hotels invaded the Adlon for dinner last night; I just nipped in in time, the last single seat; it was early yet, (about 7 o’clock) but those who came afterwards were told they couldn’t get a table before 11! Whereat much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Today (Sunday) it was even worse: I didn’t try for a seat but went to Lauers, the place where they had a baby deer last year; Lauer has a country house now and a motor, and has all his relatives to the umptieth degree all helping; even a seven year old grandson (I suppose) was rushing around clearing away dirty dishes. They are coining money but deserve it: they work very hard.
George Renwick and Leonard Spray came in this week from England the latter bound for Poland and perhaps Russia. Then the lot who went into the Russian famine area drifted back; Conger Gibbons and others; they are full of tales of bugs. Smith (our man) has remained behind in Moscow; he sent a message that what he needed most was pins to transfix bugs against the walls with. I confess I shouldn’t care for a Russian job!
Last Monday I visited the Botanical gardens which are quite prettily laid out some distance from town, like Kew. They have a very notable collection of cacti, in a hothouse of course, many kinds I had never seen before. One cactus was growing out of a human skull, and a card tied to it said it had been found that way in the desert of what was German Southwest Africa. It was a Kaffir’s skull. They also have parts laid out like miniature mountain landscapes, with the plants that grow there; such as the Alps, the Carpathians and the Himalayas. The “mountains” are cunningly arranged with blocks of granite, making rock gardens on the slopes, with little paths leading to the top.
I also had a letter from Frank Grundy in Paris this week, asking me to come back via Paris and they would put me up, but I suppose I can’t manage that. I shall feel satisfied if I can stop over at Middelburg. The train service through to and from Germany doesn’t run to Rotterdamm now unless one wants to make a detour, so I don’t expect I shall see Aunt L. this time; nor Mrs. Bosman. All this I could do if I had plenty of time and the office would stand the expense!
The weather was again glorious today; a beautiful warm autumn day, and everybody was in the Tiergarten, much annoyed that the refreshment places weren’t open because of the strike. Everybody strikes when they get the chance, for more money, because things are tending to become still dearer here – to the native – and of course every strike makes it worse! And so the mad world goes on.
With much love to all you, darlings,
ever Thine,
Jack.
Dearest,
I have two unanswered letters of yours, for the one dated Sep. 29 was just handed to me this evening. I am glad the children had happy birthdays, and much interested in Ethel’s visit to London and the Aumoniers’ new home.
I don’t think it will be very long now before I am back beside you again; I think in about a fortnight’s time; I expect Enderis will have a letter from Mr. Collins in a few days’ time asking if he can spare me yet. There seems to be no reason why I should remain here unless something breaks loose, worse than the waiters’ strike which started yesterday, much to the discomfiture of people who have to eat their meals in town. The Adlon seceded from the employees association and made its own arrangements with the staff. They remained at work with the result that all the people from the small hotels invaded the Adlon for dinner last night; I just nipped in in time, the last single seat; it was early yet, (about 7 o’clock) but those who came afterwards were told they couldn’t get a table before 11! Whereat much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Today (Sunday) it was even worse: I didn’t try for a seat but went to Lauers, the place where they had a baby deer last year; Lauer has a country house now and a motor, and has all his relatives to the umptieth degree all helping; even a seven year old grandson (I suppose) was rushing around clearing away dirty dishes. They are coining money but deserve it: they work very hard.
George Renwick and Leonard Spray came in this week from England the latter bound for Poland and perhaps Russia. Then the lot who went into the Russian famine area drifted back; Conger Gibbons and others; they are full of tales of bugs. Smith (our man) has remained behind in Moscow; he sent a message that what he needed most was pins to transfix bugs against the walls with. I confess I shouldn’t care for a Russian job!
Last Monday I visited the Botanical gardens which are quite prettily laid out some distance from town, like Kew. They have a very notable collection of cacti, in a hothouse of course, many kinds I had never seen before. One cactus was growing out of a human skull, and a card tied to it said it had been found that way in the desert of what was German Southwest Africa. It was a Kaffir’s skull. They also have parts laid out like miniature mountain landscapes, with the plants that grow there; such as the Alps, the Carpathians and the Himalayas. The “mountains” are cunningly arranged with blocks of granite, making rock gardens on the slopes, with little paths leading to the top.
I also had a letter from Frank Grundy in Paris this week, asking me to come back via Paris and they would put me up, but I suppose I can’t manage that. I shall feel satisfied if I can stop over at Middelburg. The train service through to and from Germany doesn’t run to Rotterdamm now unless one wants to make a detour, so I don’t expect I shall see Aunt L. this time; nor Mrs. Bosman. All this I could do if I had plenty of time and the office would stand the expense!
The weather was again glorious today; a beautiful warm autumn day, and everybody was in the Tiergarten, much annoyed that the refreshment places weren’t open because of the strike. Everybody strikes when they get the chance, for more money, because things are tending to become still dearer here – to the native – and of course every strike makes it worse! And so the mad world goes on.
With much love to all you, darlings,
ever Thine,
Jack.
Original Format
Letter
To
Bouman Family
Files
Collection
Citation
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958, “Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family,” 1921 October 2, WWP23111, Jon Anthony Bouman Collection, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.