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My Dad was born in 1907 and passed away in 1989.
He talked often of the Depression and was a product of the same. My Dad, Russ, never had a checking account, never had a credit card, paid cash for his cars and lived in the same home until he died. My Mom, too, lived there until she was 94, lived there for 65 years and much to the amazement of all the grandchildren still had the big black dial phone with the cloth cord. I still remember the exchange, it was Rodney 3, 0356. Imagine having the same phone number for 65 years!!
My Dad's grandparents lived on a farm up in Wisconsin and the cousins were told to wash the Kitchen floor before my folks and aunt and uncle returned. Dad and the boys flooded the Kitchen, opened the doors and they ice skated, then closed the doors and the ice melted and that was the clean floor.
Dad and Mom bought a small brick bungelow on the Northwest side. It had two bedrooms. My folks had a double bed. My sister and I shared a room with one closet and believe me that closet was small with a pull cord for the light. They added a garage and a small "Den" off the Kitchen and Dad put a bar and some green and grey tiles on the basement floor. There was an attic and I used to listen to his old records up there and sneak my Mom's Wedding dress and try that on. We roller skated in the basement, had a swing under the stairs and played hop scotch and jumped rope. The tiles had some games right in them. We rode our bikes everywhere. My Dad flooded the empty lot next door and all the neighborhood kids skated until the street lights came on. Movies were a treat and I think we were allowed to go once a month.
She did all of her own housework, gardening, cooking and cleaning. She did make some of our clothes as well. They gave to the church, helped a few frinds a relatives but never bought anything they could not afford. When my sister had to have her appendix removed, the Doctor was angry and wanted his cash quickly. My Mom went to the Hospital on the bus. I remember it was 2 buses and a subway ride downtown in the freezing cold, but I just thought it was normal. The packages from Marshall Fields were on the door step when we arrived home. Those trips were only for School Clothes, Christmas and Birthdays.
My Mom made eggnog with a hand beater and one glass was used, hand cookies with no cookie cutters but were the shape of our hands, toasted the bread in the oven, made brownies and cakes with no mixer just a spoon, curled our hair with sugar water, her home remedies were known thoughout the neighborhood. She had a ringer washer and hung her laundry outside in the back yard. My Dad collected cash from the neighbors and sent away for Fireworks, they came in straw in a big wooden box that he had to open with a crowbar.
When my Dad was courting my Mom, he always walked to her house from Oak Park to the West Side of Chicago. Then he would take her on the street car but walk home after the date.
Neither of my folks smoked, they felt it was dangerous even then and cost prohibitive. We had one car, a Nash Rambler, that we had for years. One day he asked if I wanted to go with him to have the car re-painted. We did not have a garage at that time. We drove to Earl Shieb and Dad had the car painted the same battleship grey for $ 19.95.
Dad was a tool and die maker, never served in the War because his job was classified.
Russ was a small man, he told me that he would get up at 4am to go downtown, Chicago to the newspaper offices. In the back the trucks were idling waiting for helpers. He wormed his way forward in order to jump on the trucks to get a days work. This is terrible but he said he and his brothers would read the newspapers to see who passed away and get to the chuch to be pall bearers and maybe go to homes and get a lunch. With eight siblings he said he was always hungry. My grandma had chickens in the back yard and a huge vegetable garden. It was a residential neighborhood, but I am sure everyone had to do the same to just survive. Dad said that lots of folks kept pidgeons and used them for food as well.
I remember that after I married we bought our first new car. I was telling my Dad about the payments and he berated me for not paying cash for that car. He told me that I had to pay myself first and I would be stouter in mind and heart to have some in the bank. However, one Sunday a call came and Dad needed my help. He did not have enough cash in the house and the refrigerator died. In order to save the food, he needed a new one immediately.
We had a truck and I had a credit card, so off we went to buy my folks a new fridge. It just about killed him to pay on credit and he was at my door the next day with the cash.
It was a simpler time and he never forgot the bread lines and the desperation. I don't think he ever relaxed about money. He worked at the same place for years, loyal for too long. He should have changed jobs to get a pension, but was leery of change and I think it was because of the Great Depression.
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