Surviving A Depression - A Primer

I have to smile when I read that the middle class is being squeezed. Well, okay, everything is relative and anytime you have to take an economic step backward, I guess you are being squeezed.

I remember a time when our family was really squeezed. My father was born in Texas, raised in that state and in Oklahoma. In 1918 he went with the Army to France. Returning home he was stationed in New York for a time - long enough to meet and marry a girl from Brooklyn.

My grandmother was ill and my Oklahoma grandfather moved to Kansas City, seeking better health care for her. Sadly, my grandmother died, so my Dad and his bride left New York for Kansas City. There they settled and started a family.

By 1930, they had four children and Dad had a good job driving a truck. But Mom hungered for the sidewalks of New York, and persuaded him to pick up the family and move back to Brooklyn. Neither of them - or many other average Americans - were fully aware of the scope of what had happened the year before on Wall Street.

They temporarily moved in with some of her New York city family and he began looking for work. When a family member with four little kids moves in, they are extremely welcome for about an hour. After a week or so they are extremely unwelcome. Dad walked the streets all day every day, to no avail. No one was hiring anyone. Still, they had to have a place to live.

Some acquaintenances had experienced a foreclosure on their mortgage, but were told that they could not be evicted. (Even that long ago!) They moved anyway and Dad moved the family into that house where he was assured he could stay. That proved to be untrue and the family was summarily tossed into the street.

Friends... that is the true definition of being squeezed.

There were no food stamps then... no welfare checks. There was a helping hand at the end of each arm... no others were offered.

Dad sought work at a lumber yard (they were not hiring, either) where the kindly owner took pity on the homeless family and said they could stay in an empty building on his property. There they stayed until Dad earned enough on odd jobs to return the family to Kansas City.

In due time he got his old truck driving job back again. With a steady pay check of $25 week, he wisely rented an old farm house, with acreage. No electricity, no running water, no inside plumbing. Telephone? Are you kidding?

Dad planted a garden. He bought a cow, so we kids had milk. Then came chickens, pigs, and more cattle. We never went hungry again. In fact, Dad was able to sell a little produce and some milk to supplement the family income.

We had a close, happy life during the depression. To be sure, there were no luxuries. None of us kids acquired a taste for "soda pop" because we never could afford the nickle to buy a bottle. Mom made our clothes. In warm weather we went barefoot. When our one pair of shoes wore holes in the soles, we lined them with a piece of cardboard. Mother even made our own soap.

Toys? We spent hours pushing a barrel hoop along with a stick. We played hide & seek. We played tag. I learned how to make a bean shooter. We entertained ourselves in countless ways. Of course, there were no electronics, but we did have a spring-operated, wind-up record player and a few old 78 rpm records. I remember a song lyric that said. "Can I sleep in your barn tonight, mister? It's so cold lying out on the ground." Another popular song was titled "Brother Can You Spare A Dime?".

In 1935, another child was born, and our family numbered six. On a few occasions I recall my mother somehow saving a nickle from her budget. One of my sisters and I would walk to a small store, about a mile from our rural home, and buy a Three Musketeers candy bar. At that time, this candy was three small bars in one package. Mother would cut each of the little bars in half, producing six pieces... one for each member of the family.
The Mars company will never know how much joy they brought to our family.

Later I knew a man named J.R. Hudgens. When J.R. was first married, he and his bride were homelss and broke - almost. He had a dime. They were offered a summer job on a farm, a position which came with a little shack for a home. Then, he found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow: someone gave them a big sack of beans! J.R. walked to the nearest town and spent his dime on a chunk of salt pork. They ate beans until paid the first commission on their harvest.

During the depression, if you had a roof over your head, you first protected that at all cost. Your next effort was directed toward keeping the family fed. It didn't matter that it was simple fare. Just so it was food. No one got fat. You worked too hard to ever gain weight. If you managed to acquire a little extra, you saved it... just in case! There was no greater feeling of security then knowing you had next month's rent covered.

If you live in a nice house with electricity, plumbing, running water, natural gas heat, cable TV, telephone, etc., you are not yet squeezed. Enjoy it. Protect it. Be thankful that you are not living in the dirty 30s.