Posted on 03/03/2009 4:50:55 PM PST by SJackson
Triggered memories
Today's events are reminiscent of 1929 crash, Great Depression
By Shirley Benson
Bruce
(Rusk County)
Times are tough. Read the papers and all you will see is unemployment stats, falling stock markets or bailouts. All of those trigger memories for those of us who grew up during the Great Depression of the 1930s. Most people don't seem to worry about it today. What can you do?
Conditions seem to be too good, and then before long it's all gone and times are bad. No one seems to be able to change it - only people change and adjust.
Talk of recession and failing businesses didn't worry my parents before the 1929 crash. Dad had just sold his partnership in the Exeland garage and they had $1,000 in savings. Their little family could live a long time on that. Then the banks failed and their money went down the drain just like everyone else's. That's when it became scary.
My brother was born in the fall of 1931. Early the next spring, we moved to an old farm south of Exeland. There they could keep a cow and some chickens and raise a large garden. At the very least, we would have food to eat. In hope of making a little money or trading for some things they might need, they planted a lot of popcorn and navy beans.
That summer, Dad got a job as a mechanic at the Bruce garage. The bank had foreclosed and now managed the business. The work days were long - sometimes 18 hours - and he was always on call. Bruce was 15 miles away and they had no car, so he rented a room from a childhood friend who lived in Bruce. That left mother, just 22 years old, with a 4-year-old and a baby home on the farm. Dad's youngest brother, Floyd, a teenager, came to stay with us. My all-time favorite uncle, I felt very safe with him there. Actually mother was all the protection we needed. She was very capable.
Several times a week, some hobo or tramp would stop and ask for food. Mother always fed them whatever we were eating. I remember one man got angry because she had no cream for his coffee. He didn't know how lucky he was to get coffee. When anyone unknown came into the yard, she made me go into the house and she hooded the screen door.
One day an old flatbed truck drove into the driveway. There were four or five guys in the truck. They said they wanted to buy popcorn. Mother knew who they were, as they lived only a few miles down the road. The men acted funny, and one man got out of the truck and climbed up onto the back and went to sleep. I thought she had a worried look on her face.
The popcorn was stored upstairs. Mother took me with her, and when we passed their dresser, she took Dad's German Luger from the drawer. When we came back downstairs, she tucked it into the blankets at the foot of the baby's buggy and told me to stay by him.
The men had come into the kitchen, and one of them had a bottle. He wanted her to have a drink with them. He was very insistent and came toward her holding out the bottle. She backed away, and when she reached the buggy, she took out the gun and pointed it at him. He threw his arms in the air and shouted, "Run, men, run, she means business!" They fell over themselves getting out the door. I will never forget how big that man's eyes were.
That evening, Uncle Floyd, always a gentle soul, told Mother she didn't have a right to shoot those men.
Many years later, after we had moved to Bruce, I stayed with Grandma at her farm near where we used to live. It was Sunday, and the hired man left right after morning chores were done.
We were about to eat our lunch when we heard a noise out by the highway. We went into the front room and looked out the window. An old truck had stopped along the road. A man got out and climbed up in the back and went to sleep. We locked the doors. Another man got out and fell into the ditch. Slowly, he crawled out and lay down on the running board and seemed to be sleeping.
Finally the driver got out of the truck. He walked around a bit and then shook his head and got back into the truck and drove up the road. The man fell off the running board but never woke up. The driver seemed to sense something was wrong, so he began to back up. I was so scared he would back over the man in the road, but he missed him. He got out and sort of lifted the man and pushed him into the truck and they drove off. I recognized the one on the running board as the man with the bottle from years ago.
Thirty years or more later, I worked for a man who had a little country grocery with gas pumps and a small bar. People would come in the evening to buy a few groceries or to have a beer and visit with friends.
The man with the bottle had retired from a good job in Chicago and moved back to the area. He would stop in a couple of times a week. He rarely had more than one beer as he visited with his neighbors. It was hard to imagine this clean, neatly dressed, quiet gentleman could be the man with the bottle.
I often wondered if he ever had nightmares of looking down the barrel of that German Luger held by a 100-pound woman who never stood more than 5-foot-1, even with her shoes on. I sure hoped so.
That evening, Uncle Floyd, always a gentle soul, told Mother she didn't have a right to shoot those men.
Not what I tell my wife or daughters. Times have changed.
great story....
A little off subject, but my MIL grew up on a ranch, they got one bullet and couldn’t get another one until they came home with something. Needless to say, my MIL is the best shot I’ve ever known, I’ve never known her to miss anything and that is with a pistol or a rifle. She’s 86 and still kills the rattlers that come into her yard.
When my grandmother was getting threats from her abusive ex-husband years ago, HER grandmother would sit out on their front porch with a shotgun all night long. You don’t mess with real family.
I was born after my mom’s “first” 7 were almost all gone.
Seems that there had been, years before” a peeper looking in the windows.
Mom had called the sheriff. A deputy came out and told here she could only shoot the peeper if he was IN the house.
She said she would shoot him, then drag inside, if necessary.
She was 5’1” tall, but tough. Had to be after putting up with 8 of us. Oh, yeah. We were raised without government hand outs.
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