Bringing
joy to the
needy in
Depression was
fulfilling
By W. T.
Block
Reprinted
from the
Beaumont Enterprise,
Saturday
December 26,
1998.
NEDERLAND --
One thing I
remember about
growing up on
a farm during
the Great
Depression -
it was so
painful to
witness the
destitution of
others when
our own farm
was virtually
"the horn of
plenty." And
the worst
poverty of all
was that in
that age, we
believed a
person’s
destitution
was his own
fault, even if
he were in a
wheelchair.
In the fall
of 1931, our
farm produced
perhaps 800
bushels of
Irish and
sweet
potatoes, for
which there
was no market
at all, even
at 25 cents a
hundred
pounds. We had
to cover them
up with sandy
soil to
preserve them
through the
winter. We fed
sour milk and
clabber to
chickens and
livestock
because we had
such a surplus
of it.
Yet life for
us was reduced
to a barter
economy. We
could trade
bottled milk,
butter, eggs,
chickens and
produce to
grocery and
dry goods
merchants for
many of our
necessities,
but money was
seldom
exchanged.
Sadly taxes
and some other
obligations
could not be
bartered for.
We knew well
the extent of
want for about
12 families
who lived in
our rent
houses, all of
whom were
without work
and many were
hungry. I
remember
helping Dad
deliver sacks
of potatoes on
our renters’
front porches.
That
December, a
neighbor lady,
carrying an
infant, came
by our house
to borrow some
salt. She said
she had cut up
a turtle to
make soup, but
she had no
salt with
which to
flavor it. Her
husband was
away, seeking
employment.
Mama and I
visited her
home, where we
found four
other small
children. The
cupboard there
was totally
bare of all
necessities,
no flour or
cornmeal,
sugar or salt,
beans or
potatoes, no
condiments -
nothing. And
in those days,
there was no
welfare or
other
organization,
except
churches, to
help alleviate
hunger.
Mama gave me
two burlap
sacks and told
me to fill
them with
Irish and
sweet
potatoes. We
made two trips
back to that
neighbor’s
home, one with
a wheelbarrow
filled with
potatoes, and
on the next
trip, we
filled the
wheelbarrow
with paper
sacks of
flour,
cornmeal,
sugar, dried
beans and
peas, salt,
lard, a ham
and bottled
milk for the
children.
Their hunger
displaced any
thoughts of
toys.
We knew that
our food would
be only a
temporary
solution, and
when Christmas
arrived in a
couple weeks,
they would
probably be
hungry again.
When we left
her house, I
remember the
neighbor
crying and
hugging my
mother. I knew
I only cried
from being
scared or
hurt, or if I
got a
spanking, so I
was confused
by her crying
and asked:
"Mama, why
was she
crying? We
were only
trying to help
her, weren’t
we?
"Yes,
dear," Mama
replied, "We
were only
trying to help
her. Her
crying was
that of joy
that she
finally had
food to put in
her babies’
mouths.
Perhaps you
don’t
understand,
but sometimes
people cry for
joy."
I remember
going to
church soon
and singing
"Joy To The
World." And I
remember that
lady crying
for joy. And I
knew how good
it felt that
we had helped
provide her
with a little
bit of that
joy.
- W. T.
Block of
Nederland is a
historian and
author. His
website is
http://block.dynip.com/wtblockjr. This database is very large (150 articles)
and is
intended as an
area history
source for
students.
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