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They Didn't Call it the 'Great' Depression For Nothing
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They Didn't Call it the 'Great' Depression For Nothing |
07/30/09
07/30/09
07/30/09
They ate beef heart, liver, chicken heart, sweetbreads and every manner of appalling forms of protein.
But, these people could bake a pie. They would work as a team, he doing the crust and she doing the filling. Their pies were, still to this day, the best I have ever had.
07/30/09
Human beings as a group try to make the best of shit. That's not new news.
07/30/09
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07/30/09
My father grew up during the depression, one of five children deserted by their father. A lot of men deserted families out of shame for not being able to provide for them. His mother re-married and added four more to the brood. Although she died when I was about 10, I still remember Grandma Wagoner as a woman devoid of affection or joy.
The kids, my aunts and uncles, were always really funny. My dad's nickname was Skip. He got it because of the way he walked after a cutting his foot on a piece of glass. See, his shoe had a hole in it and they couldn't afford a doctor so he hobbled around a lot until it healed. As depressing as this story of poverty is, he continued to go by the name Skip for the rest of his life. The story always got laughs whenever it was re-told at family gatherings.
The other depression story that always left a mark on me was from an aunt who explained that poverty taught tolerance. It didn't matter who was what (race, religion, etc.) because everybody was poor. Nobody got to be better than anybody else.
Jesus, I think that rant is a sign of early on-set Alzheimers. Shit.
07/30/09
Meanwhile, his mom was an immigrant with no family in the states and raising six kids on her own after being abandoned by her alcoholic husband. She worked two jobs scrubbing floors to make ends meet. In addition, their apartment was a cold water flat (literally) with an outhouse in the backyard (remember, this is a Jersey City walk-up, still there). All of their healthcare came from charities and the goodness of strangers.
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