Kate interviews Joseph Russo
I was recently graced with the opportunity to meet an inspiring man. Standing at about five feet with a pearly white smile, all of which are his original teeth, Joseph Russo greets me at the front door. This is a man about to celebrate his ninety-eighth birthday on October 17th. Joseph Russo was born and raised in Middletown, Connecticut, where he still resides today. He lives alone, a widower, in a neatly kept apartment, self-sufficient regardless of his legal blindness. Russo tells me his secret to youth is never having smoked or drank. He explains that he was surrounded by many a drunk but chose a cleaner path for himself.
Russo chats cheerfully about his lengthy and exciting career as a saxophonist in a symphonic big band. He shows me many photos dating back as far as 1926. He speaks fondly of his wife Charlotte and his children who live nearby and are all very successful. He talks about the devastations of the late twenties and thirties but he remembers mostly Prohibition which affected him because the clubs where he performed were shut down after alcohol distribution stopped.
We sit at the kitchen table quietly when Russo begins to weep. He apologizes and says that it is difficult at times to recall living in such poverty as a child. We discuss the struggles of his poor Italian family. Thankfully, his father, being a mason, did not go without work. However, being one of five children, there was little to share. He holds his mother and her cooking in high regard, talking about the fifteen cent chickens she would buy, kill and cook. Russo recalls neighbors coming to their home to see his mother, Rossina, because she would read and write their English for them.
After, WWI, the Big Bands died out and it was time for Russo to pursue a new career. Without having much direction, he stumbled upon a small store for rent in downtown Middletown. He decided to go to Hartford and purchase pastries and then sell them at a profit. Russo states “It all started with $20!” This little delicatessen, first of its kind, would run under his ownership for about thirty years. I feel enriched and grateful that Joseph Russo shared his time and memories with me and added to that, Joseph Russo carries the exact same name as my late father. In the search for important historical information, I found a mentor and a friend.
Kate interviews Enid Ione Jobson
Oral histories have become a picturesque way to share amazing stories with our communities. In an interview with a dear friend, Enid Ione Jobson, 87 years old, from Essex, Connecticut, some of these memories were captured. Enid Jobson is from Sheboygan, Wisconsin and has such a grace and strength about her. She is worldly and smart and never forgets a face. She can recall many fond childhood moments being on Lake Michigan, and being fortunate enough not to be directly affected by the Depression. Although Hobson was just a child during this time, it is still clear to her. She giggles when talking about playing kick the can and her metal racecars. When asked about the effect of the Depression, she does remember meager men coming by the house looking for work and food. Her grandmother was gracious enough to share and the men would stay in the yard. Jobson also speaks of Roosevelt with kindness, mentioning the work camps he put together in an attempt to help these men dressed in their “bibs.” She speaks vividly of her history and has immense gratitude. She tells a sad tale of an African American family in need of assistance with an ailing father. The hospital asked neighbors to look after the family while the man was close to death and no one responded. It was illegal in Wisconsin to house African Americans at this time.
However, Jobson also says that “everybody pulled an oar on the boat during the Depression.” The Depression was a time of sadness but also of hope. As for the FWP, thank you to President Franklin Roosevelt for the great initiative and to the all the writers for their work.
However, Jobson also says that “everybody pulled an oar on the boat during the Depression.” The Depression was a time of sadness but also of hope. As for the FWP, thank you to President Franklin Roosevelt for the great initiative and to the all the writers for their work.
Margareta Stoichkov interviews Elizabeth Masztl
The interview with Elizabeth Masztl, on 10/13/2009, brought the past to life in the present. Her memories were filled with vivid images of farm life in Hebron, Connecticut. In the 1930s, Elizabeth was the 6th daughter in a family of six girls and one boy. Her parents handled all the jobs around the farm. It wasn’t easy to work in the fields with the horses and to produce the food for everyday life. They had cows, horses, chickens, and pigs on the farm. Their day was really long; it started early morning and lasted until late at night and everyone in the family had their chores. Elizabeth was nine years old when she started milking the cow twice a day. Her family grew their own food from their garden.
Also, she had her own handmade dolls because her parents could not afford to buy more than one. She played with and dressed the wooden dolls. She smiled and said,”I made more than one, I had a doll family.” That was her entertainment. They also read a lot, played cards and told stories to make the nights funnier. They listened to the radio which was important in their lives.
They heated the house with a wood stove and had no electricity and no refrigerator. The ice man brought ice to their house for their ice box.
Also, she had her own handmade dolls because her parents could not afford to buy more than one. She played with and dressed the wooden dolls. She smiled and said,”I made more than one, I had a doll family.” That was her entertainment. They also read a lot, played cards and told stories to make the nights funnier. They listened to the radio which was important in their lives.
They heated the house with a wood stove and had no electricity and no refrigerator. The ice man brought ice to their house for their ice box.
Melissa McDermott interviews Muriel Schuman
Muriel Schuman was in high school when the Great Depression hit in 1931. She doesn’t recall it being a bad time because everyone was in the same boat. Money was tight everywhere, so everyone would make their own fun. In high school, going on a date would be a walk and then maybe getting a 5 cent ice cream after. In her household, she would have singing nights, where the whole family would just sit around and sing together. There were 5 girls in her family. Her mother would go to a store during a big sale and buy cheap dresses. After, she would go home and hem them to fit all the girls. The family would do anything to keep their money under control.
Her father owned a shop in Middletown called Shelpes where her and her siblings worked. Although their shop suffered a little bit, because no one had money, they still were able to keep it running. This was a big help for her dad because it was a family run store and everyone helped out.
She remembers in high school that friends of her father committed suicide because they struggled so much.
Muriel goes on to say that the difference was that no one knew any other way. There was no money. They didn’t drink alcohol because they couldn’t afford it, but they did smoke a lot to curb their appetite. Even President Reagan advertised smoking. Everyone helped each other out. Once the war came, everything started getting better. Muriel says that she is very lucky. She always had a home, there was always food on the table and she always had her family which was very important to her.
Her father owned a shop in Middletown called Shelpes where her and her siblings worked. Although their shop suffered a little bit, because no one had money, they still were able to keep it running. This was a big help for her dad because it was a family run store and everyone helped out.
She remembers in high school that friends of her father committed suicide because they struggled so much.
Muriel goes on to say that the difference was that no one knew any other way. There was no money. They didn’t drink alcohol because they couldn’t afford it, but they did smoke a lot to curb their appetite. Even President Reagan advertised smoking. Everyone helped each other out. Once the war came, everything started getting better. Muriel says that she is very lucky. She always had a home, there was always food on the table and she always had her family which was very important to her.
Lindsay Schmittberger interviews her Grandmother
Lindsay: Where did you live during the Depression?
Gram: We lived in Chelsea, Vermont.
Lindsay: What was your father’s occupation?
Gram: He was a farmer.
Lindsay: Did you get to spend a lot of time with your father or was he out working a lot?
Gram: I was always with him! He would drive me to school in our horse-drawn wagon every day. That saved us a lot of money on gas. Back then gas was one dollar for five gallons. Can you believe that? We would pick up some of the kids on the way and charge them ten cents per mile that we drove them. I got to put the money in my bank.
Lindsay: Do you recall the conditions of the Great Depression?
Gram: I do. For us, it wasn’t so bad because we were farmers. I can imagine life in the city was worse. The farmers had it made.
Lindsay: How so?
Gram: Well, let’s see…I remember everyone was really friendly. No one hesitated to help another out in the neighborhood. We all helped fix a friend’s roof one time. We didn’t have carpenters and roofers and all that back then. We all just helped out.
Lindsay: That sounds like a nice place to live.
Gram: It was! And when we used our phones, we had what they call “party lines.” A switchboard operator would connect you. Your calls weren’t very private like they are now. You could hear others talking. I remember one time; I was talking on the phone and I said “Well, I will tell you when everyone stops listening in on my call!” Then I heard “click, click, click.” Everyone hung up! (laughs) It was funny!
Lindsay: (laughs) Wow! Now I know your family had their own food because you were farmers, but what about electricity? I can imagine that being expensive.
Gram: We didn’t have electricity because it was expensive. We used our battery powered radios for entertainment and getting the news. We didn’t have a fridge, so it was hard to keep things cold. We had an ice box though. We mostly used that.
Lindsay: What did your family do for fun?
Gram: We would listen to the radio. It was charged by a windmill that we had out back. Or we would play cards and board games. Or sometimes we would go down to the town hall where they had roller skating every once in a while.
Lindsay: Do you see any similarities between the Depression and the economic downturn we are experiencing now?
Gram: Not really. Well, I guess so. Back when I was young, the banks went out. Now I see the stock market. I think that is somewhat similar.
Lindsay: How did the Depression change your life?
Gram: It didn’t really have much of an effect on my life because I was so young at the time. But I am sure that it changed my parents’ life
Gram: We lived in Chelsea, Vermont.
Lindsay: What was your father’s occupation?
Gram: He was a farmer.
Lindsay: Did you get to spend a lot of time with your father or was he out working a lot?
Gram: I was always with him! He would drive me to school in our horse-drawn wagon every day. That saved us a lot of money on gas. Back then gas was one dollar for five gallons. Can you believe that? We would pick up some of the kids on the way and charge them ten cents per mile that we drove them. I got to put the money in my bank.
Lindsay: Do you recall the conditions of the Great Depression?
Gram: I do. For us, it wasn’t so bad because we were farmers. I can imagine life in the city was worse. The farmers had it made.
Lindsay: How so?
Gram: Well, let’s see…I remember everyone was really friendly. No one hesitated to help another out in the neighborhood. We all helped fix a friend’s roof one time. We didn’t have carpenters and roofers and all that back then. We all just helped out.
Lindsay: That sounds like a nice place to live.
Gram: It was! And when we used our phones, we had what they call “party lines.” A switchboard operator would connect you. Your calls weren’t very private like they are now. You could hear others talking. I remember one time; I was talking on the phone and I said “Well, I will tell you when everyone stops listening in on my call!” Then I heard “click, click, click.” Everyone hung up! (laughs) It was funny!
Lindsay: (laughs) Wow! Now I know your family had their own food because you were farmers, but what about electricity? I can imagine that being expensive.
Gram: We didn’t have electricity because it was expensive. We used our battery powered radios for entertainment and getting the news. We didn’t have a fridge, so it was hard to keep things cold. We had an ice box though. We mostly used that.
Lindsay: What did your family do for fun?
Gram: We would listen to the radio. It was charged by a windmill that we had out back. Or we would play cards and board games. Or sometimes we would go down to the town hall where they had roller skating every once in a while.
Lindsay: Do you see any similarities between the Depression and the economic downturn we are experiencing now?
Gram: Not really. Well, I guess so. Back when I was young, the banks went out. Now I see the stock market. I think that is somewhat similar.
Lindsay: How did the Depression change your life?
Gram: It didn’t really have much of an effect on my life because I was so young at the time. But I am sure that it changed my parents’ life
Interview with Diana Seckla by Diana Dolishny
Diana Seckla grew up in Birch Island, Vancouver, Canada. She was born in Alberta on her parents’ ranch, but moved with her siblings to Vancouver to live with her aunts. Seckla’s mother, Elizabeth McFadden was born into a rich family and lived a life of luxury. She married a Scotsman who had come to Canada to look for work. Because of her rural upbringing, McFadden had a very traditional set of values and a closed view of the world. Though she was rich, McFadden had no desire to visit the cities and learn more about the world she lived in. She chose to stay on the family ranch. McFadden had beliefs quite similar to those of Mrs. Marie Haggarty’s aunts. She believed that a woman was lucky to be able to read and write and anything beyond that was more a hindrance to a woman than a help.
If McFadden had moved to the city, even for just a small amount of time, she would no doubt have seen the value of a woman with an education. While she might not have sought a better education for herself, she might have become a stronger woman, strength being a trait she could have greatly used when her husband left her for the war. However, instead of displaying strength as many other women of her time did, McFadden went slowly insane. She alienated her children by sending them to her sisters to take care of and was eventually admitted to an asylum because she became too much for her husband to handle when he returned from the war. So though McFadden may or may not have benefitted from an education to the point where she would be strong enough to overcome her mental struggles, an education would have benefitted her in some way.
If McFadden had moved to the city, even for just a small amount of time, she would no doubt have seen the value of a woman with an education. While she might not have sought a better education for herself, she might have become a stronger woman, strength being a trait she could have greatly used when her husband left her for the war. However, instead of displaying strength as many other women of her time did, McFadden went slowly insane. She alienated her children by sending them to her sisters to take care of and was eventually admitted to an asylum because she became too much for her husband to handle when he returned from the war. So though McFadden may or may not have benefitted from an education to the point where she would be strong enough to overcome her mental struggles, an education would have benefitted her in some way.
Interview with Carmena Howard written by Emily Howard
Carmena Howard was born in Southington, CT on July 30, 1921
Carmena’s parents were first generation immigrants from Italy, who arrived through Ellis Island. Because she grew up with immigrant parents, she speaks both English and Italian. Carmena recalls being about 8 years old when the Great Depression began. Her family life was not as bad as it could have been. Her father was a baker at a local bakery called Acme. She remembers them as being lucky for her father still had work so they could have food and a stable home.
After going to school all day, Carmena and her brother and sisters would come home to work in the gardens that were in the backyard. Every now and then, the family would go to a church function. Because her father was a baker, she remembers eating a lot of sweets, such as donuts, and Danishes and cakes. She recalls eating Italian food, beans, fried peppers and soups as well. When I asked about her neighbors, she did not remember too much about them but she said that she lived in a quiet community. They all worked which was lucky considering the state of the economy and the distress of the U.S. When thinking back about what she did for fun, there was not much. They only played hop-scotch for fun. She spent the rest of her time tending the garden or attending school.
As for family traditions, she recalls always having an Italian Christmas feast where her family would come over and celebrate the holiday. She also remembers hanging her Christmas stocking, and waking up the next morning to find money and fruit in it. The Great Depression did not affect her family too much as her dad always had a job and the family never struggled for much. There was little free time in her family, because there was always something to do, such as picking grapes for her father to make wine; attending school, or doing chores.
Although they knew about the depression, she was not aware of the WPA or the Federal Writers’ project. She and her family went about their daily lives. If you were to ask Carmena if living through the depression affected the kind of person that she is today, she would simply tell you that it did not affect her for the worse. If anything, the depression made her better and stronger.
Carmena’s parents were first generation immigrants from Italy, who arrived through Ellis Island. Because she grew up with immigrant parents, she speaks both English and Italian. Carmena recalls being about 8 years old when the Great Depression began. Her family life was not as bad as it could have been. Her father was a baker at a local bakery called Acme. She remembers them as being lucky for her father still had work so they could have food and a stable home.
After going to school all day, Carmena and her brother and sisters would come home to work in the gardens that were in the backyard. Every now and then, the family would go to a church function. Because her father was a baker, she remembers eating a lot of sweets, such as donuts, and Danishes and cakes. She recalls eating Italian food, beans, fried peppers and soups as well. When I asked about her neighbors, she did not remember too much about them but she said that she lived in a quiet community. They all worked which was lucky considering the state of the economy and the distress of the U.S. When thinking back about what she did for fun, there was not much. They only played hop-scotch for fun. She spent the rest of her time tending the garden or attending school.
As for family traditions, she recalls always having an Italian Christmas feast where her family would come over and celebrate the holiday. She also remembers hanging her Christmas stocking, and waking up the next morning to find money and fruit in it. The Great Depression did not affect her family too much as her dad always had a job and the family never struggled for much. There was little free time in her family, because there was always something to do, such as picking grapes for her father to make wine; attending school, or doing chores.
Although they knew about the depression, she was not aware of the WPA or the Federal Writers’ project. She and her family went about their daily lives. If you were to ask Carmena if living through the depression affected the kind of person that she is today, she would simply tell you that it did not affect her for the worse. If anything, the depression made her better and stronger.
Interview with Helen Costa, by Scott Lockman
I interviewed my great grandmother Helen Costa. She was 14 in 1930 when the Depression began. Her birth date is August 23, 1913 and was born in Proctor, Vermont. She grew up mostly in Vermont and the moved to Manhattan, New York around the 1950’s.
Life for her during the 1930’s was difficult. My great grandmother had to take care of five sisters and take responsibility raising her mother’s children. She had to make sure that all of her sisters were ready to go to school and fed on time. Every morning they would receive the Hungarian newspaper. About twice a week, the bakery would come to the house and that how they would get their bread. Everyone in the neighborhood had a garden and grew vegetables like tomatoes, carrots, and potatoes. In the 1930’s the whole community was mostly in the same predicament as neighbors including food and money.
The depression caused a limited source of food. The food available was ham, chicken; eggs and sometimes she would make beef stew. Almost everyone owned a pig which is where they got their ham from. My grandmother said she would wake up in the morning around five and hear the squeals of her family killing a pig. This was done early, so her family was able to start on lunch early and it would be ready for lunch or dinner. Everyone had chickens, and when the chickens no longer laid eggs, they would kill and eat the chickens and make chicken soup. This was about the only food that was available to people in the depression during the 1950’s.
In Vermont, her neighbors were not as bad as the ones in New York. The neighbors in Vermont weren’t as close as the neighbors in New York. She never really had any problems with neighbors in Vermont. Her neighbors in New York were the worst. All hours of the night she would hear the neighbors making noises, slamming shoes, and doors. They would also have card games until two in the morning, and never had any consideration for others.
There weren’t too many things to do for fun around the depression. When there were things to do there would sometimes be contests. My grandmother was actually in a contest, and it consisted of twenty five women. The contest was based on beauty, and who had the most points won. My grandmother ended up coming in twenty third. Also, there would be some small parks, and they would walk around with friends in groups meeting guys. There were small amusement parks that only had bumper karts, and a lot of games like darts. The only games they would play with their time were and marbles and hopscotch.
She didn’t have too much trouble with her neighbors growing up in Vermont and New York. Where she grew up was very noisy especially at night. Vermont and New York never had the population they have today. There were les jobs and not as many buildings. Vermont made mountains into neighborhoods and New York built more buildings. Another way it changed is the ways of transportation. Many used to walk and now take cabs, cars, and subways.
The great depression affected everyone and was difficult for most. It was difficult for her to find food and her family always ran out quick. Everyone had to give hand me downs for clothes because there was no money to buy any. Depression is what every person had in common, along with feeling overwhelmed. One of the worst parts of the depression was the KKK because they slowly started to emerge in come together as a group. Having the KKK was the last thing everyone needed. They didn’t like blacks and hated people for their religion. My grandmother had to stop schooling at either grade to help her mother take care of her sisters. Every where they went they walked and never had money to pay even if a ride was found. In a way she was a second mother to her sisters. She can’t recall anything about the WPA or FWP.
There was some ways that my great grandmother would try distract herself from problems during the depression. She tried to cope with the depression by always trying to stay busy. When she couldn’t cope she would cry a lot. She stayed busy by working and hanging out with friends. Living in the depression did affect the person she is today.
My great grandmother was affected by the depression. The depression made her more appreciative of what she has today such as food, money, cloths, and family. When she buys food she gets food she needs, nothing that is unhealthy. She doesn’t care too much how clothes look, as long as they do the job of keeping her warm and comfortable. Last, she is glad to know if she needs anything there is family that will help. During the depression everyone was busy and never had money to spare in case of emergencies.
Life for her during the 1930’s was difficult. My great grandmother had to take care of five sisters and take responsibility raising her mother’s children. She had to make sure that all of her sisters were ready to go to school and fed on time. Every morning they would receive the Hungarian newspaper. About twice a week, the bakery would come to the house and that how they would get their bread. Everyone in the neighborhood had a garden and grew vegetables like tomatoes, carrots, and potatoes. In the 1930’s the whole community was mostly in the same predicament as neighbors including food and money.
The depression caused a limited source of food. The food available was ham, chicken; eggs and sometimes she would make beef stew. Almost everyone owned a pig which is where they got their ham from. My grandmother said she would wake up in the morning around five and hear the squeals of her family killing a pig. This was done early, so her family was able to start on lunch early and it would be ready for lunch or dinner. Everyone had chickens, and when the chickens no longer laid eggs, they would kill and eat the chickens and make chicken soup. This was about the only food that was available to people in the depression during the 1950’s.
In Vermont, her neighbors were not as bad as the ones in New York. The neighbors in Vermont weren’t as close as the neighbors in New York. She never really had any problems with neighbors in Vermont. Her neighbors in New York were the worst. All hours of the night she would hear the neighbors making noises, slamming shoes, and doors. They would also have card games until two in the morning, and never had any consideration for others.
There weren’t too many things to do for fun around the depression. When there were things to do there would sometimes be contests. My grandmother was actually in a contest, and it consisted of twenty five women. The contest was based on beauty, and who had the most points won. My grandmother ended up coming in twenty third. Also, there would be some small parks, and they would walk around with friends in groups meeting guys. There were small amusement parks that only had bumper karts, and a lot of games like darts. The only games they would play with their time were and marbles and hopscotch.
She didn’t have too much trouble with her neighbors growing up in Vermont and New York. Where she grew up was very noisy especially at night. Vermont and New York never had the population they have today. There were les jobs and not as many buildings. Vermont made mountains into neighborhoods and New York built more buildings. Another way it changed is the ways of transportation. Many used to walk and now take cabs, cars, and subways.
The great depression affected everyone and was difficult for most. It was difficult for her to find food and her family always ran out quick. Everyone had to give hand me downs for clothes because there was no money to buy any. Depression is what every person had in common, along with feeling overwhelmed. One of the worst parts of the depression was the KKK because they slowly started to emerge in come together as a group. Having the KKK was the last thing everyone needed. They didn’t like blacks and hated people for their religion. My grandmother had to stop schooling at either grade to help her mother take care of her sisters. Every where they went they walked and never had money to pay even if a ride was found. In a way she was a second mother to her sisters. She can’t recall anything about the WPA or FWP.
There was some ways that my great grandmother would try distract herself from problems during the depression. She tried to cope with the depression by always trying to stay busy. When she couldn’t cope she would cry a lot. She stayed busy by working and hanging out with friends. Living in the depression did affect the person she is today.
My great grandmother was affected by the depression. The depression made her more appreciative of what she has today such as food, money, cloths, and family. When she buys food she gets food she needs, nothing that is unhealthy. She doesn’t care too much how clothes look, as long as they do the job of keeping her warm and comfortable. Last, she is glad to know if she needs anything there is family that will help. During the depression everyone was busy and never had money to spare in case of emergencies.
Interviews of Lucille Adamatz and Eugene Fucci, by Chelsea Linsenbigler
Getting the life stories of those who survived the depression was incredibly interesting. I interviewed a quiet, 88 year old woman from the Haddam Senior Center named Lucille Adametz. She was 8 when the depression hit, and her younger brother was 6. They lived in Higganum, CT on their grandparents’ fruit farm with her parents. Her father was a construction worker, and her mother stayed home to take care of herself and her brother. She remembers her neighbors- one raised cattle and beef and the other grew vegetables. Between the 3 of them they would trade and barter their goods, so money wasn’t a huge issue to get food. She remembers walking down the streets and seeing the bread lines- although she claims in Higganum everybody knew everybody. If you needed help your neighbor would help you, and you would do the same for them. “That was the great thing about living in a small, close town. Everybody was your friend” Ms. Adametz told me. Her worst memory was not being able to have friends over because they couldn’t afford to feed them. “We couldn’t even give them a cookie if we had them because we didn’t have any to give” she said. Her family cut back on everything clothes, to food. They didn’t have money to go get a sweet candy for $.01. Lucille Adametzs’ strongest memories was seeing all of the men from the WPA building bridges and roads in her town, and playing with tinfoil, thread, and spools because they couldn’t afford real toys. Ms. Adametz made it very clear that she never felt poor; that she was the same as everyone else. The thought of her family being poor never even crossed her mind.
I also interviewed my step-fathers mother, Jean Fucci. She lived in Auburn, NY at the time. She lived with her mother, and sister. Her mother ran a convalescent home in their home, since Ms.fucci told me that there were no such things as retirement homes back then. Her mother didn’t make a lot of money, and they were on welfare. They could only go to one store, and couldn’t get luxuries like candy or new clothes. Hand-me-downs were all they could wear. She remembers walking to school in the morning, walking 2 miles back for lunch, walking back after lunch, ect. As Lucille Adametz told me, Ms.Fucci didn’t feel poor either. She also told me that she felt the same as everyone else. Sadly, that is all Jean Fucci could remember.
Laura W. Sullivan writes about her grandmother, Mary Ryan Wetherbee
Our grandmother was the kind of woman who took in all of the various friends and relatives who were unemployed. She had to feed her own family and all of the extra people with whatever she could come up with. She had a recipe that called for 2 apples and a few other basic ingredients. This resulted in a very rich dessert that made 16 people happy.
Dish Night—Memory of the Forties by Janice Vecchitto Thomas
This is something my mom and her sisters would tell my siblings and me when we were young, and they still reminisce about it today. Back in the mid 40’s, my mom and her sisters would go to the movies at the encouragement of her mom. Now why would their mother ask they go to the movies? Well, once a week they would have something called “dish night”.
On “dish night”, the movie theatre would give out to each paying person, a china setting, a serving bowl or other accessories to complete a set. Every few weeks, they would rotate what they were giving out. My mom remembered the pattern was called Blue Orchid. My grandmother wanted them to go often as she wanted a service for twelve. My mom also said they would give out the dish once you paid your admission. She remembers hearing crashes throughout the movie as some people would break their dish or accessory piece. Her sisters told me that when they were invited to other people’s homes for dinner, those same dishes were at their house also.
My mom mentioned just the other day, when she would frequent tag sales years later, she would see some of those dishes which brought back memories of those days.
On “dish night”, the movie theatre would give out to each paying person, a china setting, a serving bowl or other accessories to complete a set. Every few weeks, they would rotate what they were giving out. My mom remembered the pattern was called Blue Orchid. My grandmother wanted them to go often as she wanted a service for twelve. My mom also said they would give out the dish once you paid your admission. She remembers hearing crashes throughout the movie as some people would break their dish or accessory piece. Her sisters told me that when they were invited to other people’s homes for dinner, those same dishes were at their house also.
My mom mentioned just the other day, when she would frequent tag sales years later, she would see some of those dishes which brought back memories of those days.
Memories from Hugh Cox, Trustee for Community Colleges, Dir. of the Valley Railroad Company and former Pres. of Raymond Engineering as told to A.Zyko
I was born in 1928 and lived 4 miles from the center of East Haven Connecticut in a place called Foxon, which had a population of about 200 people. My parents got electricity about 1928. We heated our house with a wood/coal stove. My cousin in North Branford didn’t get electricity until after World War II. In 1936, we got a refrigerator. Before that, I remember my father picking up ice and bringing it home on the bumper of his car for our ice box.
Foxon had its own school, a building with 4 rooms, 8 grades, 3 teachers and one custodian. First, second and third grades were in one room and I could listen to three grades being taught. When I graduated from 8th grade, there were 7 or 8 graduates, only 2 boys because many young men had to find work. I remember being in school when the Hindenburg flew overhead but I wasn’t allowed to go out and see it. I was active in Boy Scouts and 4-H. I helped fight forest fires by carrying an Indian tank weighing 40-50 pounds on my back holding 5-6 gallons of water with a hose and nozzle that allowed you to squirt water on the fire. I was paid 25 cents an hour for this work.
I worked summers on a truck farm and once on a chicken farm. I got paid 1 cent a basket for picking strawberries. The best job of my life was clerking at the general store because I got to do everything from stocking shelves, waiting on customers, pumping gas, assembling the penny candy case, to dealing with shipments. My pay was 25 cents and hour and had gone up to 50 cents an hour by 1946 when I went to college at UConn.
I especially remember 1934 because it was a year of blizzards in Connecticut. There were 12-15 families on our street, which was about a quarter of a mile long. The men shoveled the snow to clear the streets. People were self-reliant and didn’t depend on the government. Volunteers built a community house where we had meetings, barn dances, and talent shows. Everyone had gardens. We had 10 acres and kept a pig and a cow.
When I was about 12, my mother got me to start a newspaper, the Foxon Review which we sold for 1 penny. My mother typed the paper and ran it off on a hectograph. It had local news only but people loved it.
Books were very important to my family and we went once a week by car to the library in the center of East Haven. My father always had a car. He would buy used cars for less than a hundred dollars. The first few cars he got were from the town dump. The cars that were still able to run that were left at the dump, were sold by the man who ran the dump. My father got his first new car in 1940.
My father was a pattern maker and had his own business, New Haven Pattern and Model. Pattern makers would start by making a wooden pattern, then a sand casting and then pour metal into it. The object would be to make a part that required the least amount of machining. During the depression, he was either working at his business or looking for more business. War work came along in the late 30s.
My wife’s family was well off during the depression. The men in the family worked for the railroad and had steady jobs. They would travel free on the railway to Florida on vacation. My wife had a dressmaker. My cousin’s family had a farm and took in wards of the state. They had two pairs of brothers that they took care of and the small income from this helped them hold onto their farm.
I had very little in the way of money or possessions but I got the start I needed and lived a good life. I was the first in my father’s family to go to college. The depression did not hurt me but did a lot to shape my life. It gave me a belief in saving money and a conservative outlook. I am probably better off for not having had so much.
I do remember hearing about the WPA and the CCC during the depression but not about the Federal Writer’s Project. In the Great Depression and in the current recession, if you have a job, you are fortunate.
Foxon had its own school, a building with 4 rooms, 8 grades, 3 teachers and one custodian. First, second and third grades were in one room and I could listen to three grades being taught. When I graduated from 8th grade, there were 7 or 8 graduates, only 2 boys because many young men had to find work. I remember being in school when the Hindenburg flew overhead but I wasn’t allowed to go out and see it. I was active in Boy Scouts and 4-H. I helped fight forest fires by carrying an Indian tank weighing 40-50 pounds on my back holding 5-6 gallons of water with a hose and nozzle that allowed you to squirt water on the fire. I was paid 25 cents an hour for this work.
I worked summers on a truck farm and once on a chicken farm. I got paid 1 cent a basket for picking strawberries. The best job of my life was clerking at the general store because I got to do everything from stocking shelves, waiting on customers, pumping gas, assembling the penny candy case, to dealing with shipments. My pay was 25 cents and hour and had gone up to 50 cents an hour by 1946 when I went to college at UConn.
I especially remember 1934 because it was a year of blizzards in Connecticut. There were 12-15 families on our street, which was about a quarter of a mile long. The men shoveled the snow to clear the streets. People were self-reliant and didn’t depend on the government. Volunteers built a community house where we had meetings, barn dances, and talent shows. Everyone had gardens. We had 10 acres and kept a pig and a cow.
When I was about 12, my mother got me to start a newspaper, the Foxon Review which we sold for 1 penny. My mother typed the paper and ran it off on a hectograph. It had local news only but people loved it.
Books were very important to my family and we went once a week by car to the library in the center of East Haven. My father always had a car. He would buy used cars for less than a hundred dollars. The first few cars he got were from the town dump. The cars that were still able to run that were left at the dump, were sold by the man who ran the dump. My father got his first new car in 1940.
My father was a pattern maker and had his own business, New Haven Pattern and Model. Pattern makers would start by making a wooden pattern, then a sand casting and then pour metal into it. The object would be to make a part that required the least amount of machining. During the depression, he was either working at his business or looking for more business. War work came along in the late 30s.
My wife’s family was well off during the depression. The men in the family worked for the railroad and had steady jobs. They would travel free on the railway to Florida on vacation. My wife had a dressmaker. My cousin’s family had a farm and took in wards of the state. They had two pairs of brothers that they took care of and the small income from this helped them hold onto their farm.
I had very little in the way of money or possessions but I got the start I needed and lived a good life. I was the first in my father’s family to go to college. The depression did not hurt me but did a lot to shape my life. It gave me a belief in saving money and a conservative outlook. I am probably better off for not having had so much.
I do remember hearing about the WPA and the CCC during the depression but not about the Federal Writer’s Project. In the Great Depression and in the current recession, if you have a job, you are fortunate.
Memories of Daniel Saunders, born in Hartford in 1909, uncle to Anne Paluck
Daniel G. Saunders (“Captain Dan”) as told to daughter Dianne Saunders on Christmas Eve 1987, about his trip across the U.S. in 1934 to go to a job on a ship in San Francisco, and about hobos riding the rails trying to get to California.
“We went straight across Canada. We had an old car, three of us. 1934, gee I’ve got a picture of that.”
“Who did you go with?”
“Two other guys that were sailing with me. One kid was – well, it was 1934, how old was I? 25. They were the same age. We had a job waiting for us out in San Francisco. And we went straight across Canada. Those people were marvelous to us. They treated us fine. We had breakdowns, and this and that. Of course, it was a lot different in those days, you know, half a century ago, what the hell.”
“What car did you have?”
“We had an old Oldsmobile. This friend of mine, he bought it from his father. I don’t know, something like $100. It was a lot of money. We paid our share. And that car – the radiator fell off. We come down to Chicago, the World’s Fair was there. We’re going down one of the main thoroughfares, and the right rear wheel come off. And here we are it’s like on Connecticut Boulevard on the main street, the main street. Anyway, we sold the car for $27 in San Francisco, but we missed the ship by 10 days anyway. And we were out in one of the Western states, I forget which one it was. We were going down the highway and here’s a road coming this way and it was just getting dark at night and these two young girls about 15 years old taking their father’s car from one of the ranches out there, and they went right across the road and they hit us broadside and knocked us into the ditch, stuff like that.”
“Sounds like a great vacation!”
“That was a drought year, too, one of them, the Dust Bowl. I told you about this maybe several times, I’ll never forget it. We get out there in the Western States, the wheat growing states, and you could see that the sagebrush and everything else, you know, when it rolls it gets into a ball, a big ball. And they had a drought out there for years, and all the cattle died, you know. You’re going down the road, there’s no interstate roads like there is today, and you see horses out there in the field with the legs sticking up, dead you know, see, and herds of cattle same way. All the chickens dead, and so on. Sand – the topsoil blew off the ground, and blow up against the house, and it might come up as high as the ceiling here, and all the people were leaving these states, Kansas, the Dakotas, and so on, and going out to California. Remember, this was Depression years.
The three of us came along this road and of course the radiator was boiling up. There weren’t gas stations then. Finally, here’s this farmhouse. I was driving the car, one guy was asleep in front, and we had room enough for the other guy in the back. So I stopped the car, and I walked in from the road. The farmhouse was maybe 75 yards in from the road, and I went up, and I knocked on the door. The wind was blowing, Jesus, the sand was blowing all over the place, and it was like the surface of the moon. Nothing was growing, nothing. There wasn’t a blade of grass, there wasn’t a twig, there wasn’t a bush, that’s how bad it was. This woman came to the door, the front door, maybe 50 years old. A weather beaten place. I said “how do you do? We were driving along, and our radiator is overheated. I was wondering if you could give us a gallon of water for the car.” I’m telling you, the woman - she looked at me – I’m telling you the woman looked absolutely drained physically, gray hair pulled tight on her head, and she had on a gingham something or other, and she looked at me and she says, and I’ll never forget it, she said to me exactly, she says “How many are with you in the car?” I said two of my friends and myself. She said “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You call your two friends up here and I’ll give you each one glass of water, but not one drop for that car.” See.
“They didn’t have any water?”
“No. Everything was gone. Everything – there wasn’t a crop in the fields, there wasn’t any cattle left, there wasn’t anything left. And this went on year after year. And the topsoil all blew away because of the way they used to farm in those days. They didn’t – they call it leaving it lie fallow for a year. You have a crop this year, next year you don’t do it. Contour plowing, and so on, it’s all scientific today, all these farmers know it. But in those days they plowed it up and so on, and then when they didn’t get the rain everything blew away.”
“We just drove that car – it’s remarkable how long that car run with the steam spouting out. And we finally came to this small town, and there was a garage there, and we had to let the car sit. What was in that town? I forget. There was something like a town pump and at certain hours of the day you could get maybe a gallon of water, each one. That’s what we got. You see a car out in the road, you could buy soda, you could pour that in the radiator, any liquid. That’s how bad it was out there.
When we got to San Francisco we sold the car for $27, $9 each, that’s all the money we had. Those freight trains would be running east and west, north and south, whatever. You’d be by the railroad tracks, here come a freight train, and up on top of the freight cars, just like seagulls, or birds sittin’ on a wire, the guys sitting up on top of the cars, women too, kids, sittin’ up on top of the freight cars going west, see, they’re trying to get to Oregon or Washington or California, California especially. California at the state line they used to stop the trains and kick them all off, and then you’d see a train going east, the same thing, everybody sitting up on top of the freight trains. “
“Why’d they kick them off?”
“They didn’t want ‘em. I mean this wasn’t 5,000 people that were on the move. This was 700,000, 800,000 people. Hey, these people just walked away from the farm that the family was farming for 50-60 years, they owned the land. They just walked away from it. Thousands of places out there deserted. Train going south, you see them sittin’ up there. Hey, we had 10,000 sailors in New York City, 10,000 sailors, and there wasn’t $100 amongst the crowd. Down there on South Street at Seaman’s Institute.”
“We went straight across Canada. We had an old car, three of us. 1934, gee I’ve got a picture of that.”
“Who did you go with?”
“Two other guys that were sailing with me. One kid was – well, it was 1934, how old was I? 25. They were the same age. We had a job waiting for us out in San Francisco. And we went straight across Canada. Those people were marvelous to us. They treated us fine. We had breakdowns, and this and that. Of course, it was a lot different in those days, you know, half a century ago, what the hell.”
“What car did you have?”
“We had an old Oldsmobile. This friend of mine, he bought it from his father. I don’t know, something like $100. It was a lot of money. We paid our share. And that car – the radiator fell off. We come down to Chicago, the World’s Fair was there. We’re going down one of the main thoroughfares, and the right rear wheel come off. And here we are it’s like on Connecticut Boulevard on the main street, the main street. Anyway, we sold the car for $27 in San Francisco, but we missed the ship by 10 days anyway. And we were out in one of the Western states, I forget which one it was. We were going down the highway and here’s a road coming this way and it was just getting dark at night and these two young girls about 15 years old taking their father’s car from one of the ranches out there, and they went right across the road and they hit us broadside and knocked us into the ditch, stuff like that.”
“Sounds like a great vacation!”
“That was a drought year, too, one of them, the Dust Bowl. I told you about this maybe several times, I’ll never forget it. We get out there in the Western States, the wheat growing states, and you could see that the sagebrush and everything else, you know, when it rolls it gets into a ball, a big ball. And they had a drought out there for years, and all the cattle died, you know. You’re going down the road, there’s no interstate roads like there is today, and you see horses out there in the field with the legs sticking up, dead you know, see, and herds of cattle same way. All the chickens dead, and so on. Sand – the topsoil blew off the ground, and blow up against the house, and it might come up as high as the ceiling here, and all the people were leaving these states, Kansas, the Dakotas, and so on, and going out to California. Remember, this was Depression years.
The three of us came along this road and of course the radiator was boiling up. There weren’t gas stations then. Finally, here’s this farmhouse. I was driving the car, one guy was asleep in front, and we had room enough for the other guy in the back. So I stopped the car, and I walked in from the road. The farmhouse was maybe 75 yards in from the road, and I went up, and I knocked on the door. The wind was blowing, Jesus, the sand was blowing all over the place, and it was like the surface of the moon. Nothing was growing, nothing. There wasn’t a blade of grass, there wasn’t a twig, there wasn’t a bush, that’s how bad it was. This woman came to the door, the front door, maybe 50 years old. A weather beaten place. I said “how do you do? We were driving along, and our radiator is overheated. I was wondering if you could give us a gallon of water for the car.” I’m telling you, the woman - she looked at me – I’m telling you the woman looked absolutely drained physically, gray hair pulled tight on her head, and she had on a gingham something or other, and she looked at me and she says, and I’ll never forget it, she said to me exactly, she says “How many are with you in the car?” I said two of my friends and myself. She said “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You call your two friends up here and I’ll give you each one glass of water, but not one drop for that car.” See.
“They didn’t have any water?”
“No. Everything was gone. Everything – there wasn’t a crop in the fields, there wasn’t any cattle left, there wasn’t anything left. And this went on year after year. And the topsoil all blew away because of the way they used to farm in those days. They didn’t – they call it leaving it lie fallow for a year. You have a crop this year, next year you don’t do it. Contour plowing, and so on, it’s all scientific today, all these farmers know it. But in those days they plowed it up and so on, and then when they didn’t get the rain everything blew away.”
“We just drove that car – it’s remarkable how long that car run with the steam spouting out. And we finally came to this small town, and there was a garage there, and we had to let the car sit. What was in that town? I forget. There was something like a town pump and at certain hours of the day you could get maybe a gallon of water, each one. That’s what we got. You see a car out in the road, you could buy soda, you could pour that in the radiator, any liquid. That’s how bad it was out there.
When we got to San Francisco we sold the car for $27, $9 each, that’s all the money we had. Those freight trains would be running east and west, north and south, whatever. You’d be by the railroad tracks, here come a freight train, and up on top of the freight cars, just like seagulls, or birds sittin’ on a wire, the guys sitting up on top of the cars, women too, kids, sittin’ up on top of the freight cars going west, see, they’re trying to get to Oregon or Washington or California, California especially. California at the state line they used to stop the trains and kick them all off, and then you’d see a train going east, the same thing, everybody sitting up on top of the freight trains. “
“Why’d they kick them off?”
“They didn’t want ‘em. I mean this wasn’t 5,000 people that were on the move. This was 700,000, 800,000 people. Hey, these people just walked away from the farm that the family was farming for 50-60 years, they owned the land. They just walked away from it. Thousands of places out there deserted. Train going south, you see them sittin’ up there. Hey, we had 10,000 sailors in New York City, 10,000 sailors, and there wasn’t $100 amongst the crowd. Down there on South Street at Seaman’s Institute.”
Memories from Sam Philips, a very dear friend of Lan Liu's who has visited MxCC several times and participated in the library's book club discussion.
I am an 88 years old born-in-America male. I was just an infant and then a small child during the nineteen twenties, the so-called Roaring Twenties, when, in the aftermath of the War To End All Wars, WW 1, most Americans seemed to lose their senses in the flush of victory. The country passed an amendment to its constitution prohibiting the production, importation, sale, use or advertizing of alcoholic beverages of any kind. A huge bootlegging industry of such products sprang up, and crimes associated with it became rampant. Speakeasies flourished, jazz sprang up and became the country’s dominant form of music. New clothing styles and new dance styles and new literature styles and new life styles flew into existence. And I, too young to be aware of any of it, grew in the shelter of an upper middle class family in which, magically, whatever I wanted came to me.
My father was a highly gifted sign writer, and he had built a successful small business around his prolific skills. He had purchased a small but more than adequate house in a nice suburb of fast-growing Los Angeles. Our family spent summers in mountain or sea-side resorts. We even had one of those new-fangled devices called a telephone in our house.
Then one day my father came home from work early. He had a private conversation with my mother, and then, grim-faced he called my older brother and me to the living room, and motioned for us to sit on the couch. My mother was already there, seated on a chair. I had never seen her face look so solemn. Were my brother and I about to be severely scolded for something terrible we had done?
No. Surely my father had something far more serious on his mind; his face was that of a badly defeated boxer.
“Children,” he began,” His voice crackled with despair. He could hardly continue. “The New York Stock Market has crashed.”
My eyes popped wide open. I looked from my father to my brother, and then to my mother. “So what?” I thought to myself. “Who cared about something called stock, whatever that was?” And way off in New York. I knew where that was from my class in school. 3000 miles away. Who cared? Why all the excitement? Crashed? What did that mean?
My father looked at the floor between his legs. His voice trembled, and then, little by little he explained it all to his two children. How new companies got started or expanded by selling parts of themselves, called shares of stock, to the public. How people bought those stocks hoping that those companies would grow and make a lot of money, thus making the owners of their stocks rich. And how, when those businesses lost money, their stock owners suffered losses. And little by little my brother and I began to understand.
My father continued. "I had almost everything we owned invested in the stock market, and now it is all gone. We'll have to move and we'll have to do without a lot of things we've enjoyed up until now."
Now, even though I didn't understand what had happened, I did understand some of its effects on our family. My brother and I rushed to our parents, and hugged them. We assured them that it was alright with us, that we would do whatever we had to to make things work out, even though we didn't know what that would entail.
And so we began our new life in the Great Depression.
Young as I was, I began becoming aware of the world and its many political facets. In Germany Hitler came to power, and I learned what Nazism was, and the difference between it and democracy. In Japan Emperor Hirohito and his chief military commander, Tojo, had already begun their world conquest in Korea, then Manchuria, and then in China proper. In Spain Generalissimo Francisco Franco overthrew the democratically elected government, and installed himself as dictator. In Russia, communism under the usurped leadership of Stalin had taken place. And in the United States, Franklin Roosevelt had replaced Herbert Hoover in the White House, after Hoover's promise after promise of better times vaporized. Tens of thousands stood in breadlines seeking handouts of food, great industrial strikes rocked the nation, violence erupted in states and cities all over the country. Revolution was in the air. Roosevelt and Congress enacted the National Recovery Act, the so-called NRA. It provided money for infrastructure projects that hired tens of thousands of workers. The program was called "priming the pump" because it was supposed to start the stricken economy rolling again. Well, it never achieved that goal, but it offered enough relief to prevent radical solutions from being tried. It took WW-2 to end the Great Depression.
In the meantime, of course, my father lost his business. There were not enough orders for signs for him and others to keep their doors open. He solicited business from local stores in exchange for whatever those stores had to offer. It was a reversion to the barter system relegated to the dustbin many years earlier. We ate in restaurants where my father had painted signs for the proprietor, we got our clothes from stores he had serviced. And what little income he was able to bring home was spent frugally by my mother. But it was never enough.
Finally, when I was in Junior High School, I obtained a job delivering newspapers. I earned a pittance, but it helped the family, and I was happy to be able to contribute. At the same time I discovered that I could run faster than any of my friends, and as soon as I entered High School I joined the track team, and was never beaten in a foot race. But I could not afford to buy track shoes, so my father worked a sign painting deal with a sporting goods store, and he enabled me to get a pair.
Thus it was that we struggled from mouthful to mouthful during the Great Depression until the worst war in the history of mankind put an end to it.
My father was a highly gifted sign writer, and he had built a successful small business around his prolific skills. He had purchased a small but more than adequate house in a nice suburb of fast-growing Los Angeles. Our family spent summers in mountain or sea-side resorts. We even had one of those new-fangled devices called a telephone in our house.
Then one day my father came home from work early. He had a private conversation with my mother, and then, grim-faced he called my older brother and me to the living room, and motioned for us to sit on the couch. My mother was already there, seated on a chair. I had never seen her face look so solemn. Were my brother and I about to be severely scolded for something terrible we had done?
No. Surely my father had something far more serious on his mind; his face was that of a badly defeated boxer.
“Children,” he began,” His voice crackled with despair. He could hardly continue. “The New York Stock Market has crashed.”
My eyes popped wide open. I looked from my father to my brother, and then to my mother. “So what?” I thought to myself. “Who cared about something called stock, whatever that was?” And way off in New York. I knew where that was from my class in school. 3000 miles away. Who cared? Why all the excitement? Crashed? What did that mean?
My father looked at the floor between his legs. His voice trembled, and then, little by little he explained it all to his two children. How new companies got started or expanded by selling parts of themselves, called shares of stock, to the public. How people bought those stocks hoping that those companies would grow and make a lot of money, thus making the owners of their stocks rich. And how, when those businesses lost money, their stock owners suffered losses. And little by little my brother and I began to understand.
My father continued. "I had almost everything we owned invested in the stock market, and now it is all gone. We'll have to move and we'll have to do without a lot of things we've enjoyed up until now."
Now, even though I didn't understand what had happened, I did understand some of its effects on our family. My brother and I rushed to our parents, and hugged them. We assured them that it was alright with us, that we would do whatever we had to to make things work out, even though we didn't know what that would entail.
And so we began our new life in the Great Depression.
Young as I was, I began becoming aware of the world and its many political facets. In Germany Hitler came to power, and I learned what Nazism was, and the difference between it and democracy. In Japan Emperor Hirohito and his chief military commander, Tojo, had already begun their world conquest in Korea, then Manchuria, and then in China proper. In Spain Generalissimo Francisco Franco overthrew the democratically elected government, and installed himself as dictator. In Russia, communism under the usurped leadership of Stalin had taken place. And in the United States, Franklin Roosevelt had replaced Herbert Hoover in the White House, after Hoover's promise after promise of better times vaporized. Tens of thousands stood in breadlines seeking handouts of food, great industrial strikes rocked the nation, violence erupted in states and cities all over the country. Revolution was in the air. Roosevelt and Congress enacted the National Recovery Act, the so-called NRA. It provided money for infrastructure projects that hired tens of thousands of workers. The program was called "priming the pump" because it was supposed to start the stricken economy rolling again. Well, it never achieved that goal, but it offered enough relief to prevent radical solutions from being tried. It took WW-2 to end the Great Depression.
In the meantime, of course, my father lost his business. There were not enough orders for signs for him and others to keep their doors open. He solicited business from local stores in exchange for whatever those stores had to offer. It was a reversion to the barter system relegated to the dustbin many years earlier. We ate in restaurants where my father had painted signs for the proprietor, we got our clothes from stores he had serviced. And what little income he was able to bring home was spent frugally by my mother. But it was never enough.
Finally, when I was in Junior High School, I obtained a job delivering newspapers. I earned a pittance, but it helped the family, and I was happy to be able to contribute. At the same time I discovered that I could run faster than any of my friends, and as soon as I entered High School I joined the track team, and was never beaten in a foot race. But I could not afford to buy track shoes, so my father worked a sign painting deal with a sporting goods store, and he enabled me to get a pair.
Thus it was that we struggled from mouthful to mouthful during the Great Depression until the worst war in the history of mankind put an end to it.
Memories from Ann Penfield, former MxCC Library Director
My father lost his hardware store early in the Depression and my parents moved to my grandmother's summer boarding house in Hadlyme. As a small child I enjoyed playing with the farm animals (I had a pet lamb) and the attention I got from the summer guests. But my parents struggled mightily to make the summer business pay and to survive the lean off-season. My father joined with others to cut wood for fuel and learned to do all the repairs needed in our 1790 farmhouse. My mother tended a garden, fed chickens, and sometimes milked the cows, in addition to cooking for guests. Every fall I noticed that men would appear at our door, offering to work in return for a meal. People tended to scorn these "tramps" but they were fine people just down on their luck. My parents suspected that hobos had left marks on the telephone pole across from the house to show that this house would feed the wanderers. I remember family friends from New York City who asked that we save newspapers and old paper bags for them. I learned later that they used the papers and bags to replace the worn-out soles of their shoes, since they couldn't afford to have their shoes repaired. I remember "helping" my mother (not that a 4 or 5-year old was much help)churn butter, make soup, and feed chickens. I remember watching my father catching and beheading chickens. I'm sure it was the chickens, eggs, and milk from our cow that kept us from starving. I do not remember ever being hungry, but I suspect that my parents often had very little on their plates. My mother was an excellent cook and turned out incredible meals on our kitchen wood stove, which was the only source of heat in our huge house. People survived the Depression but it certainly aged them fast.
Governor Rell talks about her father in the 1930s in an article in the Hartford Courant
"Earlier this year, Gov. M. Jodi Rell attempted to revive the Depression-era Civilian Conservation Corps when she designated $7.5 million in her budget proposal for a project called the Connecticut Conservation Corps.
Like its 1930s ancestor, the CCC would hire unemployed people to work in Connecticut's state parks, cleaning beaches and clearing hiking trails, Rell said.
"My father used to say that he went into the CCC a boy and came out a man," said Rell in March. Her father joined the CCC in the 1930s.
"What I really want to do is create an opportunity for young people to work and support their families the way my father did, by spending their days performing good, honest labor that will benefit the state," she said. "
JULIE STAGIS, SOME 'GOOD, HONEST LABOR' :GOVERNOR LOOKS TO GIVE YOUNG PEOPLE A CHANCE TO LEARN WORK SKILLS; CONNECTICUT CONSERVATION CORPS. Hartford Courant August 14, 2009
Like its 1930s ancestor, the CCC would hire unemployed people to work in Connecticut's state parks, cleaning beaches and clearing hiking trails, Rell said.
"My father used to say that he went into the CCC a boy and came out a man," said Rell in March. Her father joined the CCC in the 1930s.
"What I really want to do is create an opportunity for young people to work and support their families the way my father did, by spending their days performing good, honest labor that will benefit the state," she said. "
JULIE STAGIS, SOME 'GOOD, HONEST LABOR' :GOVERNOR LOOKS TO GIVE YOUNG PEOPLE A CHANCE TO LEARN WORK SKILLS; CONNECTICUT CONSERVATION CORPS. Hartford Courant August 14, 2009
Memories from my mother, Georgianna Anson (submitted by Alma Zyko)
M
y mother and father were born in the nineteenth century and my grandparents were born during the Civil War. I was born in 1917. (in Keeseville, NY)
We lived on a farm run by my uncle and grandfather along with their own farm about 4 miles away. I learned to drive a tractor and truck before I was 10 and loved working with horses. Our cellar was cold and our vegetables and fruits could be kept firm all winter. I remember my impatience when we couldn’t eat pears until after Christmas. I also remember eating cherries much too green so I could beat the birds who stole so many of them, We buried carrots in boxes of sand, wove the tops of onions together and hung them, and filled bins with apple and potatoes. My mother liked celery and each fall, Daddy bough two flats of celery which he stored in a dark corner of the cellar where it did not grow much but stayed white and crisp. I don’t know how long one could keep celery this way because we ate it so quickly. The real joy of the cellar was in the rows upon rows of canned fruit, vegetables and meat. One section of the shelves was reserved for pickles, relishes, jams, jellies and homemade ketchup. If you were fortunate enough to have maple trees there would be maple syrup but you could always obtain some by bartering some of your products. In an upstairs dry room, there would be hams and bacon hanging from a rafter. In the winter, a side of beef was often kept frozen in an unheated room. I remember sawing off thin strips of beef that were frozen hard. It was almost paper thin and when cooked in butter made a wonderful gravy to pour over baked potatoes. For some reason we called it frizzle, probably because it curled up when it was fried.
The decade of the twenties was a time when people were filled with a great deal of confidence. People were convinced that good times were here to stay. People had money and spent it freely creating a demand for factory goods and a movement of workers to the cities and large factory towns.That all came to an end with the collapse of the stock market. Many who had left the farms wished they had stayed on the land. I was in college at the time and having lived on a farm couldn’t quite envision people not having plenty of food in the cellar. City life, even village life had so changed that people were trapped by the economic condition of the country. I remember how shocked I was when my roommate, a farm girl, and I went down to Margaret Street and saw the crowds lined up at a soup kitchen and outside the bakery. Ladies with diamonds and fur coats could be seen carrying little tin pails. The bakery gave out hunks of dough that people took home to bake. If they had no fuel, families got together to bake their bread. It was a terrible time Valuable items like furs and diamonds had no value because people had no money to buy them. Bread was the most valuable item for them and God Bless the bakeries that gave away dough. We knew the country was in bad shape but news was not as pervasive as it is today. The radio did have news but not everyone owned a radio or could afford a daily paper. It was only years later that we learned how desperate the situation really was.
The 1929 collapse of the stock market so shocked the people of our country that a historian likened it to the nation having been “struck by a fireball in the night.” Banks closed and people who did have money stashed away were unable to get it. Franklin D. Roosevelt was elected president and his promises brought hope to the country. Roosevelt put people to work in a great variety of ways. We laugh at the W.P.A but they built a lot of roads and bridges, cleaned up messy places and used shovels to good advantage. The C.C.C. was a life saver for young people and created parks, and camping grounds we are still using today. I remember one Sunday when a young man who had been home for the weekend was hitchhiking back to his camp and stopped at our place for a drink of water and we took him back to his camp. It was an attractive log building which a person today would enjoy.
Some of the lessons we learn when we are young stay with us all our lives. When I was just seventeen, I learned something about generosity that still affects my response to people who need something that I have. I was a very nervous college student. There was no money from home. I had one dress and some iffy underwear. I had worked all summer but my wages barely covered my initial expenses. I was determined that I was going to go to college and make it through but how I was to do it, I had no idea. Each week I would need $2.50 for room and kitchen privileges. There would also be expenses like paper which was 5 cents a pad and 5 cents was not easy to come by in the depression years. I worked for my board at whatever tasks I could find. I was strong so I could usually find sidewalks to shovel. I had also learned a great deal about coal fires so I was often able to find a furnace to tend.
Once in a while I was able to get a ride home for the weekend. Often I walked. Fifteen miles with a heavy book bag was not the biggest problem. The biggest problem was the wear and tear on my shoes. In depression years, shoes seldom cost more than three or four dollars but that was an astronomical sum. At that time, Daddy with five children and a wife, was earning $10 a week as a draftsman. It was a day for celebration when he received a $2 raise. Twelve dollars a week was darn good pay then, Prices were low but wages were even lower.
My other expense that was a constant strain all three years of college was food. I lived on the very cheapest items. On those weekends when I was able to get home, my aunt gave me food to take back. Once in a while she gave me a quart can of canned beef. To this day there is nothing to compare with canned beef. The week I carried those goodies back to my room on Cornelia Street, I lived like a king. It often bothered me that there was nothing I could do to pay back this largesse. One day in my first year, I became quite agitated in my arguments that I ought to be able to do something for my aunt. She gave me a very kind lecture, telling me that one can’t go through life paying people back, that there would be many times when this was impossible. She gave me this motto: “If you can’t return it, pass it on.”
I was in high school when we got our first radio. It was the most wonderful thing in our lives even though we seldom were able to hear much for the only station nearby was one in Schenectady and it had such a weak signal that it could only be heard over the mountains in good weather. By 1936, when I was teaching in Ticonderoga, radio had improved so much that there were regular programs that we listened to. We never missed Grand Ole Opry on Saturday nights.
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