The Great Depression was really, really bad for a lot of people. My Grandfather was a Doctor who took some eggs, or a chicken, or some vegetables for setting a broken bone or birthing a baby - whatever people could pay or give him. He died in 1940, when I was 3, and my parents moved in with my Grandmother. We lived in a small town in Indiana that had a railroad nearby.
There was a fairly steep grade there so the trains went pretty slow and the hobos riding the rods could get on or off there before the train stopped at the next town and they might get caught. They would come to our house and ask for food. Apparently they had some way of marking our house as an easy touch. My Grandmother always gave them a sandwich or some soup, but they had to do some work - mow the grass, weed the garden, carry out the ashes, etc. This continued, but less frequently, until well after WWII was over.
My uncles who were farmers or small businessmen were all Republicans and the ones who worked for someone were all Democrats. Our family all gathered at someone's home on Sunday afternoons and evenings and I grew up listening to the political discussions that went on every time they all got together. It was always heated, but always civil. FDR was either a Savior or Satan.
My family was lucky, they did not lose their farms or jobs and we all had enough to eat. But there were families in our town who were not so lucky. Most of my family hated bankers because they really were tough on people, especially farmers. The bankers ended up owning a lot of the best farmland.
Anyway, those are some of my memories of the depression. It certainly scarred my parents and my wife's parents forever.
Best to all,
JRH |
