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ole

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#21
Don't know why this thread popped up, but it did.

My Mom spent her entire adult life feeding us. It wasn't always good, but it was always prepared to keep us alive.

When baby Sis was born, The Dad attempted to feed us and he really sucked at it.

When The Mom passed, I somehow got to teach him how to make a meat loaf.

Y'all know the recipe. Ground beef. An egg. Oatmeal and catsup. Mush it up an bake it.

And so he learned to take care of himself. He was 92 when he left us, but he took care of himself until his last day.

I'd do the 600-mile trip every summer to help him fix stuff. Had brothers in law closer, but he'd say, "Never mind. Kenny will be here to fix it."

So now you know I was Kenny. I hated that, but he was The Dad. And he sacrificed a lot for us. Fixing something for him was a small payback.
 

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ole

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#23
That's an awesome story Ole. They should include it in a book of parent stories someone gives you when you leave the hospital, taking home one's first baby.
Have that book around here somewhere, Annie. I was the fifth. Big Sissy probably still has hers. The Mom saved everything.

How about a jar of used wooden matches? It's a long story. Fuggidaboudit.
 
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#25
My grandparents had (and parents have) good stories. The one that sticks with me involves my father going without shoes all spring, summer, and fall so he could save his one pair for winter, when he really needed them.

Of course, we then tease him with the old "up hill, both ways" stories. In all seriousness though, it's hard for me to imagine. He made such a good life for us, it's hard for me to picture him as a little barefoot squirt on welfare.
 

JPK Huson 1863

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#26
The Mom and Dad started their life together during the Depression. 1933. I will suspect that many of us grew up under the same circumstances. Hank certainly did. But see, we got fed.

Dad did, he spoke of lard and yellow food coloring. He said it wasn't so bad if you didn't know what butter tasted like in the first place.

You know Ole, stories like yours, your parents and how simple and sacred it all is are wonderful for a reason. As you know. There's Too Much now, easily obtained. Growing up when an orange in the toe of one's Christmas stocking was a joy and delight- how much more easily were we - I mean as a society- delighted every day?
 

JPK Huson 1863

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#27
My grandparents had (and parents have) good stories. The one that sticks with me involves my father going without shoes all spring, summer, and fall so he could save his one pair for winter, when he really needed them.

Of course, we then tease him with the old "up hill, both ways" stories. In all seriousness though, it's hard for me to imagine. He made such a good life for us, it's hard for me to picture him as a little barefoot squirt on welfare.

Yes, it is tough to imagine their hardships. I'm sure it is because they worked so hard, they did not want their children to be able to comprehend life so tough. What a hard call for them, too because it sounds harsh by today's standards but how does anyone develop drive without something to overcome or push past?
 

donna

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#28
My Dad told me stories too. Times were very tough during the Depression years for his family. They did always eat as his Dad had farm and grew all they needed even in tough times. Actually during those years many relatives ate with them and some lived with them. The rule for my grandfather is he always shared with them but did expect them to work on farm or help my Granny, his wife in the kitchen. He would never let anyone go hungry or not have place to sleep. He always said God was good to him and it was his duty to share with others.
 

Anna Elizabeth Henry

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#29
You know Ole, stories like yours, your parents and how simple and sacred it all is are wonderful for a reason. As you know. There's Too Much now, easily obtained. Growing up when an orange in the toe of one's Christmas stocking was a joy and delight- how much more easily were we - I mean as a society- delighted every day?
I agree America is quite the land of excess where the simple pleasures in life are lost to the younger generations. Even when I look back at my childhood summers filled with reading books, having an ice cream cone with sprinkles in the evening when the Mr. Softie truck came around and being grateful I had air conditioning in my bedroom at night. Today kids expect central air all day long, high speed internet connections so they can play video games with someone in Japan and never set a foot outside their front door to find the ice cream truck.

My Dad told me stories too. Times were very tough during the Depression years for his family. They did always eat as his Dad had farm and grew all they needed even in tough times. Actually during those years many relatives ate with them and some lived with them. The rule for my grandfather is he always shared with them but did expect them to work on farm or help my Granny, his wife in the kitchen. He would never let anyone go hungry or not have place to sleep. He always said God was good to him and it was his duty to share with others.
The Depression was so rough. I can't imagine living through a time when practically everyone was close to broke. My great-grandmother used to bake mini-pies and my grandfather would sell them as a kid at the WPA work site in Virginia where they lived to supplement their farm income. Plus, some enterprising great-uncles were selling moonshine, too :whistling: Anything to survive they would do. I always remember the funny story about my grandfather when the government revenue person came along to check the property of an illegal still and parked his car on the dirt road leading to the woods and my grandfather said to the guy, "Hey mister if you don't come back can I have your car?" The guy promptly turned around and went back to his car and drove off never coming back.
 
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#30
Plus, some enterprising great-uncles were selling moonshine, too :whistling: Anything to survive they would do. I always remember the funny story about my grandfather when the government revenue person came along to check the property of an illegal still and parked his car on the dirt road leading to the woods and my grandfather said to the guy, "Hey mister if you don't come back can I have your car?" The guy promptly turned around and went back to his car and drove off never coming back.
Yikes! :biggrin:
 

ole

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#31
Another story. Way back when Big Sissy was a baby. The Dad, Mom and Big Sissy drove, in midwinter, in a Model A, to Minot, ND, to pick up his sister and her four kids after her husband died.

Why one of the other brothers-in-law weren't charged with that hasn't been explained. We're talking a 600 mile, one way, trip. Guess it was his job as he was the brother.

Some of y'all know what winters are in the Dakotas. It wasn't a lark.
 

Anna Elizabeth Henry

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#32
Another story. Way back when Big Sissy was a baby. The Dad, Mom and Big Sissy drove, in midwinter, in a Model A, to Minot, ND, to pick up his sister and her four kids after her husband died.

Why one of the other brothers-in-law weren't charged with that hasn't been explained. We're talking a 600 mile, one way, trip. Guess it was his job as he was the brother.

Some of y'all know what winters are in the Dakotas. It wasn't a lark.
Brrrr! :confused: How did they manage to survive and not die from exposure or lose any fingers or toes to frostbite is what I want to know! There's nothing for miles and miles out there still, where did they stay at night or did they have to camp in the car?! :O o:
 

ole

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#33
Brrrr! :confused: How did they manage to survive and not die from exposure or lose any fingers or toes to frostbite is what I want to know! There's nothing for miles and miles out there still, where did they stay at night or did they have to camp in the car?! :O o:
Stay at night? Silly girl. There was no staying at night. It was a different time and a world far, far away. When people had spines, and did what was required.

Sounds snarky doesn't it?

No snark intended. We're talking 1934 when neither of us were a glimmer in The Dad's eye,
 

Anna Elizabeth Henry

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#34
Stay at night? Silly girl. There was no staying at night. It was a different time and a world far, far away. When people had spines, and did what was required.

Sounds snarky doesn't it?

No snark intended. We're talking 1934 when neither of us were a glimmer in The Dad's eye,
LOL! Believe me, I know I would fold up like a brown paper bag if I got transported back in time and had to deal with similar situations! Though I'd like to think I have at least a tiny bit of my ancestors' gumption and strength lurking somewhere in my DNA - hopefully!
 

ole

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#36
LOL! Believe me, I know I would fold up like a brown paper bag if I got transported back in time and had to deal with similar situations! Though I'd like to think I have at least a tiny bit of my ancestors' gumption and strength lurking somewhere in my DNA - hopefully!
Yes! I wish I'd have had a pair of the big brass ones they had. We can't know what life was like back then. Ggfather his wife, and a couple of daughters lived in a wagon until he got a house built.
 

Old Hickory

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#37
It was the attitude of proud independence that pulled folks through the depression. Dad was born in 1906, had a bunch of older siblings, but only one younger, Mildred born in 1911. Mildred was to be married to a fine man named Larry in 1932, Larry lost his job to the depression and doubts arose as to the wedding. Dad told Mildred and Larry to go ahead and marry, he would provide the garage for them to live in and see to it they were fed. Dad loaned them his motorcycle with sidecar, fixed up the garage to live in, but still Larry wanted to do his part and provide for Mildred. One day Larry says, "I'll get a box, a stick, and some string, catch some starlings and we'll eat a meal that I provide." Mildred's reply was typical of the times, "You catch em, and I'll cook em!" Larry didn't catch any starlings that day, but soon had a job and went on to provide a very good life for Mildred and their kids.
 

JPK Huson 1863

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#38
It was the attitude of proud independence that pulled folks through the depression. Dad was born in 1906, had a bunch of older siblings, but only one younger, Mildred born in 1911. Mildred was to be married to a fine man named Larry in 1932, Larry lost his job to the depression and doubts arose as to the wedding. Dad told Mildred and Larry to go ahead and marry, he would provide the garage for them to live in and see to it they were fed. Dad loaned them his motorcycle with sidecar, fixed up the garage to live in, but still Larry wanted to do his part and provide for Mildred. One day Larry says, "I'll get a box, a stick, and some string, catch some starlings and we'll eat a meal that I provide." Mildred's reply was typical of the times, "You catch em, and I'll cook em!" Larry didn't catch any starlings that day, but soon had a job and went on to provide a very good life for Mildred and their kids.

Thanks very much for that, Old Hickory. Depression stories get lost, you know? We see the tragic camps, hear some of the lurid suicide stories, maybe feel a vague connection through ' The Waltons ', whose story was supposed to take place on the tag end. Not sure it's sunk in how bad things got for every-day people, you know? There's a photo making the roads, man holding a sign looking for work. He'd do anything then added ' " Or a strong rope to hang himself with. " Another of a mother selling her children. It's all very good and well judging from this distance- the entire country went from food to no food almost over night. Boy I'll bet starling tasted rough, it was a meal.

When we cleaned my Nana's house after she died, Mom found ancient bags of sugar hidden away in the attic. The family was ok, better than most in those years; that sugar was testimony to not knowing.
 

Bee

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#39
This is a very nice Thread/Forum (a nice respite after slogging it out over slavery & monuments) I am new, thus, still peeling the layers of the vast onion that is CWT.

Daddy was a cook in the Army, so he was fantastic with food, and even better: he could cook for and throw great parties. Sometimes I would accompany him when he was making spaghetti sauce for 400+ folks (he was always being tapped to cook for charity "feeds") and the thrill of helping stir those HUGE kettles of sauce (resembling 55 gal drums) was the cat's meow for a kid. One of his assignments was a military prison, so rather than "cooking", the chefs etc., spent boring hours opening up ancient field ration boxes and sorting out the contents. Hundreds of them, daily. A little bonus in each of those rations was a couple of cigarettes, and since that was not part of the "meal", Daddy and the boys collected them and sold them. It was figured that more money was made off those cigarettes than the Army paychecks :smug:

Cheers,

B
 

JPK Huson 1863

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#40
Welcome to Ladies Tea! Ha! Oh well we've had our share of slug fests, no fear. You try hiding out amongst the civilized portion of humanity, the brass knuckle war will track you down. Have a peek at poor Sojourner Truth's thread, geesh. It's mostly nice- I confessed to not knowing enough about the era to be a host when signing on for this. They go easy on me, I think. Huge population of knock-down, drag out experts around here.

If you figure half the population was women, well, we were involved in this awful thing in one way or another- some terribly closely. Left a mark if not a scar on almost everyone, male and female. Our black women, first, had their lives changed the most dramatically, then Southern women- Northern women lost men by the score and launched themselves into the fray. Crazy times. Life went on. Ladies Tea tells that story, too- what they woke up to daily. Did and saw and lived with and around and wore and experienced.

Pretty cool childhood! My husband's father spent some time as a cook during WWII, Europe and Africa, interesting! He never cooked again though, guess that was enough for him!
 


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