Darla Shine
02-28-2009, 04:31 AM
So today my 90 year old grandfather came to visit with my 80 year old step-grandmother. As we were sitting around the table I asked them about the depression. I brought my children in and sat them down. I wanted my children to hear what it was like to be a child during the worst time in America. My grandfather talked about the hard work. How as a 11 year old boy he got up a 5am, milked the cows, cleaned the barn, and then went to work on the truck with the ice man and carried blocks of ice on his back up five stories in apartment buildings. My grandmother, one of 12 said she never knew they were poor because everyone was living the same way. In their basement there was wine, cheese, salami, sausage, and bread, all being created by her father. That all the children pitched in and cleaned the house. My grandfather had one pair of pants and had to wash them by hand himself every night. He was one of nine. When he was 18 he got a job at the A&P and he made 33 bucks a week. And on that salary he supported his three younger sisters and his parents and on top of that he bought a brand new car for $400.
The bread truck came down the block each day so did the milk man. The milk was thick and delicious and fresh. For 30 cents you got two full bags of fresh baked bread and donuts. You didn't need organic because everything was grown locally by farmers you knew. Everyone in the neighborhood knew everyone. It was a community. There was respect for adults, police, teachers, each other. And they both said no matter how poor they might have been it was a better way to live and a better time than today. That it was better to have less quantity but better quality. When you had chocolate it was from the french candy man with the accent who you watched in the window for weeks and weeks until you had a birthday or it was Christmas and you got to have that chocolate and you savored every bite. You hand washed your wool sweater because your aunt lulu knitted it for you. Your one pair of shoes you shined to keep them looking clean and new. As long as you had soap you could look like a million bucks my grandfather said. My grandmother said that no one went hungry because everyone knew how to cook and create.
My grandfather said 'your generation has so much but you are missing so much. You have a whole lot of junk that stinks. We had no Wii, no tv, no cars, no vacation, no restaurants, and we were happy.' His words.
My grandmother said 'Darla it was better back then. Those were the good old days. Even with the depression it was better.'
The bread truck came down the block each day so did the milk man. The milk was thick and delicious and fresh. For 30 cents you got two full bags of fresh baked bread and donuts. You didn't need organic because everything was grown locally by farmers you knew. Everyone in the neighborhood knew everyone. It was a community. There was respect for adults, police, teachers, each other. And they both said no matter how poor they might have been it was a better way to live and a better time than today. That it was better to have less quantity but better quality. When you had chocolate it was from the french candy man with the accent who you watched in the window for weeks and weeks until you had a birthday or it was Christmas and you got to have that chocolate and you savored every bite. You hand washed your wool sweater because your aunt lulu knitted it for you. Your one pair of shoes you shined to keep them looking clean and new. As long as you had soap you could look like a million bucks my grandfather said. My grandmother said that no one went hungry because everyone knew how to cook and create.
My grandfather said 'your generation has so much but you are missing so much. You have a whole lot of junk that stinks. We had no Wii, no tv, no cars, no vacation, no restaurants, and we were happy.' His words.
My grandmother said 'Darla it was better back then. Those were the good old days. Even with the depression it was better.'