MARCH 11, 1939
FORT WORTH, Texas, Friday—How children grow in a short time! These two grandchildren seem to be entirely different people, all in less than a year's time. Chandler is taller and her face has changed from a round chubby face to a much more oval little-girl expression. Elliott, Jr., talks and walks incessantly. I have rarely seen such energy and such beautiful dark eyes. He has his father's nose and looks like him, except that where his father is fair he is dark in coloring.
I always enjoy coming here to see what new things Elliott and Ruth have done. Ruth has a real gift for color combinations and the new guest room which they have added is very charming. They have planted new trees and there are new horses and cows to be seen. This morning I went in to see the Fort Worth radio studio and saw the map of all the stations in the Texas State network. This is the only State network of its kind, I believe, and I was much interested in seeing how their organization is planned, for they give programs 17 out of every 24 hours.
I was struck by the fact that everybody working there seemed young and enthusiastic. That is one of the things I notice so much in this part of the country. It seems to be a young man's country and young women too seem to do a good bit of interesting work. I answered some questions on a program at the studio which a young lady, Gail North, conducts. She certainly did her job very efficiently. It is listened to widely, for when I returned, my son's manager on the ranch asked us to stop at his house to see his wife and both of them said they had listened to Gail North and were interested in the questions which she asked.
After the program was over, I saw two gentlemen from the NYA and made some plans with them to visit various projects. Then Ruth and I drove through one of the parks hoping to see a house which had been built by the NYA boys, but after driving along several roads and asking some workmen who looked politely puzzled, we decided we had chosen the wrong park and gave up our search.
We drove out to the ranch in time to write this column and have an early lunch before we take the train to Abilene, Texas, where I speak this evening.
On arrival here yesterday we found a good deal of mail from Washington, but we have managed to go through most of it. Though I was up fairly late last night to do it, it is a nice feeling not to have a great deal of work hanging over you.
Incidentally, before going to sleep, I read a slim volume of poems by Countee Cullen, called: "Copper Sun." I have long admired this young poet's work and remember that it was my daughter-in-law, Ruth, who introduced me to another poem of his called: "The Black Christ".