Looking back, I realize there were times where we ate certain foods but as a kid, I never equated it with tight budget. I just thought it was variety. It mostly involved beans or cheap meats and cabbage or kraut. I liked it! Dad hated it....
As I got older, things got better and dad climbed the ladder and the food changed. So did the houses.
They're gone now. But if I never achieve half of that which my parents wished for me, it will not have been their fault...
Good post, Dan, I absolutely agree! Shopping at the Salvation Army and thrift stores when I was in Elementary School simply seemed normal. I didn't even realize we were 'poor' until middle school but I never resented it or felt less because of it. My parents were and are amazing people and I'm extremely appreciative of them.
Which is the reminder, good parent/s trump all. I can hardly remember any damned thing I got for my birthday or Christmas, but I sure remember all the times spent with dad.
My Grandpa tore down an old motel, he took some of the walls out hole. I remember pulling nails out of old lumber when I was about 5. They built our house that my parents still have by standing those walls up and scabbing them together. Most of the house has 7’ ceilings. I know they had enough money for some Pabst... or Gpa did..
Living big was a tv dinner growing up on dads payday, when things were tough we at least had butter sandwiches and potato soup. We canned our own food, so there was always something, peaches, pears, beans. We never starved, so no complaints. As I got older, I started to can and process my own food because I realized how much better it was. Besides that I like the idea I can live on very little aside from some work. After traveling to a bunch of third world places in my life, trust me when I say we weren't poor.
Back then, grocery stores were very small with very few products/choices on the shelf because we grew or raised so much and ate venison until we sprouted horns.
My Swede grandpa would weave his own gillnets between clothesline poles and we'd go to the river......I still prefer fish over whitetail. We went through the war years in great shape but my folks had married very young the same week of the stock market crash in 29........My mother just died a few years ago and before that I had asked her about the the depression and she said they never knew the difference as she and 10 siblings were born of immigrant parents that had escaped poverty. Neither parent had options beyond 8th grade in a log school but they would be very learned folks to today's millennials .......I still have some of the letters they wrote to me while in the "service".....sure wish I could write cursive like that.
Yes. My parents were kids during the depression with my dad's side being sent to farms during the summer months for room, board, and few cents. Four kids and grandma raised them alone, as her husband died young of lock jaw. I know now my parents struggled too, but us kids were not much aware. Once drove my mom to tears in the mid-50's because I was pleading for some rubber boots, so I could get out and play in the snow. Still a day I regret 65 years later. At the time, my older sister was being put through school, and dad would take on anything for a buck. About every two summers or so, mom and dad would pack us all in the car and we would vacation on the shore for a week to 10 days. Mostly camping and sometimes a really low end rental running nothing but cold water. Still the best of times in my memory banks.
Had a rich uncle from dad's side, an engineer for then Esso. He mostly took overseas assignments for the bucks and left his kids in boarding schools stateside. He'd come back for a month each summer and they would do things like Disneyland vacations. Prayed many a time that I'd get invited, but never did. With essentially little parenting, those cousins never amounted to much.
Cookie talks of times when a meal was a mustard or maybe a mayo sandwich on home made bread. She is from western Maryland, and had never even seem the Atlantic Ocean when we met. Forty seven years together, and she is still low maintenance.
I too regularly put down some PB&J, but I absolutely detest oatmeal. Thankfully, I know I've had it 10 times better than our folks, as Cookie and I have done and are still doing things we never even dreamed of as kids. I'm worrying though, that we have seen the best of times.
My mother worked in the cotton fields as a kid growing up during the depression. It didn't matter what color you were in the fields according to her.
When WW2 broke out she and my grandmother worked in an ammunition plant during the summer. They lied about her age (she was 13 in 1942) for her to work.
Her father was the town drunk and spent a lot of time in jail. I only met him once when I was a kid.
My father had it a little better but he lost his father when he was 16 and as the oldest everything fell to him to sort out.
When I was growing up we would see the red salmon five times before it was done. We would have baked salmon, Salmon casserole, Salmon casserole and mac n cheese, salmon salad sandwiches for school and creamed salmon over cornbread as last rites.
My Mom and Pop were children of the Depression. Six kids by the time they were 30; nine kids before they were through. I remember a lot of bowls of navy beans over a slice of white bread. I'd put ketchup on mine, loved it. Hand me down clothes for the boys; Mom sewed the girls dresses. Since I was the oldest boy i got to wear the new jeans before they went to the younger brothers. I hated new blue jeans.
I was a big fugger as a kid. I worn lots of Dad's and Uncle's hand me downs. Lots of iron on jean patches that mom also secured with extra stitching especially between the thighs.
We always had venison, fish, clams, crab, a garden and bottle of Pepsi with popcorn on Saturday night that was a treat. We never went hungry. Life was good! 😎
My mom and dad were jewels, although I did not fully understand that until I became a husband and father. They were born in the Nineteens, dealt with the depression as young folks with little resources, made themselves wise and learned to be self-sufficient, happily had four kids and raised us with devotion. We had little, but I never once felt deprived. They knew that the keys were self-respect, self-sufficiency, responsible behavior and thorough education and they were tireless in that emphasis. It all came out very well. Poor, yet rich beyond measure.- they went to Heaven happy and fulfilled.
Same here. Once I complained about the school lunches. My dad told me they were better than what he had which was sometimes nothing. I never complained about food again. I was the youngest of five boys, don't think I ever wore anything other than hand-me-downs until I was in about the seventh grade. In the first house we lived in, when it rained we'd get pots from the kitchen to set on the floor and catch the leaks.
Thing was, everybody we knew was in the same boat. Then the houses and everything else got better and now we take it all for granted.
I remember Dad cooking turkey drumsticks in the pressure cooker... he could get them for 10 cent a pound... Now days... at my house... when I cook turkey... I rip the drum sticks off and turn around and give them to the dog...
That... and meat loaf is not allowed in my house either... no meat loaf. Hamburger was .35/lb... we ate a lot of it.
None of that free hot lunch for me, in school... I would wipe tables down and clean up after lunch, so they let me go though the lunch line for free.
Guess we were in the same situation as a lot of Y'all. When my 10 year old sister died of Cancer, well the Medical bills broke my parents, and we lost it all. My dad lost the service station he had and we lost our home. Grew up in a trailer in Florida, and fishing, crabbing, and shrimping were the only thing that manage to fill the larder for many years, even while dad worked 70 hours a week to pay off the bills.
I have never felt like someone else should have done anything for us....it was our life and our responsibility to make of it what we would. Don't understand some folks these days....
We never had extra money... my dad had a mill job... worked swing shift for 38 years.
He bought a piece of land to hunt deer on... so us kids would have a place to hunt... I remember he worked every week end he could, he put in a lot of 16 hour shifts... And, Mostly... he would make sure he worked every holiday... two or three 16 hour shifts in a row if possible, over a holiday weekend... Those really helped him get a jump on his bills.
Now days... when my friends ask if they can hunt the farm... I tell them ... nope, nope. Don't even set foot on that piece... Growing up I never had my dad on holidays and I'm sure you did... so, no, that piece is for family only. I tell them they can hunt the land I bought, But, stay off the farm.
When I was a kid, Mom & Dad would load us up the station waggon and take us to a drive-in movie. We'd back into the spot so all us kids could sit in back and watch the show while we ate our sandwhiches. We brought popcorn from home, too. We already had our PJs on cause we usually crashed out on the way home.
Good times on a budget.
They gave us everything. Food, roof over us, good clean clothes, love, teaching us moral and good behavior, and to love our country. Not sure if we were poor or not.
Mom's still with us. I miss my Dad like I'd miss my left arm.
These story's are what scares me most about the youth of today. People don't garden, they don't fish, and most think guns are only something bad guys shoot good guys with. Adversity is a dead cell phone battery, self driving cars, because today's youth are incapable of maintaining a train of thought long enough to reach their destination. And a government that has to tell coastal dwellers to stock up three days worth of food because of an impending storm.
It sure makes the aging process much more palatable.
We were poor. We weren't starving poor but we didn't have luxuries. Everyone around us was in the same position.It wasn't until middle school when they mixed us with kids in other communities I realized some kids had parents with regular jobs that didn't have to supplement their income with farms or gardens..
I don't look back on it fondly. In an effort to save money or so that was his justification, my old man made alot of questionable decisions that usually meant I was benefactor of meaningless work that did nothing to help us as a family.
My grandparents had it figured out and hanging out with them was a welcome reprieve from the craziness of the old man.
But my story was just one of a thousand like it. No one had a Pollyanna life.
My father and grandfather were always talking about life in the Great Depression. Farm folks weren't affected as much as those in the big cities, as they could grow food, but they always said that there was practically no one with money. My grandfather especially knew the value of a dollar, and if he acted as though he had every one of his named, and held on to them as long as possible.
What we will miss the most, is the knowledge that our elders take with them when they pass......
I would give almost anything to be able to talk to my grandfather again. He only had an eight grade education, but in many ways he was the sharpest man I've ever known. He could do almost anything.
Being poor financially is not the same as being poor mentally.
When I see people that are filthy dirty and destitute, usually they have some sort of mental disability. OR, they have some sort of addiction habit. Drugs, alcohol etc.
Just getting by for us meant it was a whole family effort. Dad was a darned good carpenter, but things always got tight in the winter. Everyone contributed. My brother and I trapped and hunted, and were counted on to put meat on the table. It was especially tight on the rare occasions when dad didn't get a deer. Dad ran a big garden,and we canned or froze everything we possibly could. There were no big fancy family vacations. We knew we were just getting by, but it never was discussed in front of us kids. My folks did all they could to give us a decent life. When your basic needs somehow get met, you don't tend to worry about the other things too much.
We had a HUGE garden when I was a kid. 1/2 acre in size. We supplied 5-6 families (all of my aunts and uncles) with green beans, peas, raspberries, carrots, cherries, yellow squash, zucchini and various hard or winter squashes and who knows what else. As others have mentioned. My mother canned, bottled, froze, dehydrated everything that she could. Made homemade grape juice, tomato juice. Jams and jellies.
We did not grow potatoes as I had relatives in Idaho that had access to a farmers property. He would let us glean the fields for free. I remember as a kid driving to Burley ID and Shelly ID in our old Ford F100. We'd load that thing up until the leaf springs were flat. Drive back home and share the wealth with family. We'd load well over 1,000 lbs of spuds in that old truck.
My mother was a stay at home Mom. She was always there for us. Our home was always spotless. Our clothes were always clean. When other kids were wearing Levis, Wranglers LAPD etc. I wore sears Tuff Skins.
My father was not a hunter. I only ever remember him hunting a few times. Nor did he fish. But I did it all. When I'd come home with two 5 gallon buckets full of crappie, we'd have a fish fry. The grand parents from both sides we're always there. If I came home with a goose or grouse or pheasants, we'd have the same family gathering to eat and enjoy the game together.
They were great times. I was taught how to work hard, how to have fun, how to help others, and how to respect people.
My dad was a physician, but grew up on a farm dirt poor. We always had vegetable gardens all over town. When things were in season, we ate them until they were gone. We froze and canned lots of stuf for the winter months. Things that came in cans or packages really weren't found at our house. We also cut, split and stacked our own firewood. I think a lot of our neighbors may have made a little fun of us behind our backs, but we never cared. I think that the adoption of my parents modest lifestyle has served me well. I'll eat just about anything, but my favorite is what is on sale.
When I was five, my mom was single and we lived in a run down duplex. Years later she told me how poor we were...at one point all that was in the cupboard was some Cream of Wheat, or some such. I don't remember being hungry or feeling deprived.
In college I had a girlfriend from Houston. Her folks were very well off, but they were scum. I told her class doesn't come out of a pocketbook, but she never did catch on. I know what she's up to even these days, and she's just like her folks---total trash.
I never knew we were poor. I thought every kid was raised to know how to fix things. Drywall, plumbing, electrical, carpentry, stone, we did it all as kids. I did my first sweat fit copper plumbing job at @8 years old. It never occurred to me, we had to money to hire it done. Mom could cook just about anything, and make it edible. We had more than a few strange meals, but we ate. I now know pickleloaf goes bad in a freezer. I just thought it tasted that bad to start with. I do know I will never eat it again. The smell of fried bologna sandwiches will drive me out of the house now, but it was breakfast every morning. We all learned to hunt, fish and garden about as soon as we could walk. We all learned to shoot, even my sister who can't stand to kill anything with a face (her words). But she could give lessons in shooting. She can out shoot me. My dad wanted to make sure we would never starve, so every kid had to learn how, after 18, they could decide for themselves if they wished to continue hunting, fishing. Everyone worked in the garden. I signed the first contract of my life with my folks. When I got my first real paycheck, they felt that if I could work for a paycheck, I could help the family. 40% of whatever I made was to go to the family budget. (Same contract my sister was already on, being older than me). At first it felt like my whole check! (Looking back, I'm now sure it didn't cover what I ate.) But as I wanted more for myself, I looked for better and better paying jobs, and my 40% grew as well. I moved out of the house, when it was actually cheaper to live on my own, than under thier roof. (This was also part of the plan.) It taught me how to budget, and work toward a goal. It also taught me trade skills I have used my entire life, and skills I fall back on now, as we dropped down to one income and massive medical costs. (One 30 day shot is 12k, and she's on a dozen medications). If I CAN do it myself, I do. I may have grown up with no money. But without the training of being poor. I'd be in serious trouble now. Thank you mom and dad for teaching me self reliance, and responsibility.
Mom grew up in the coal fields of SE KY and SW PA. Said they never knew they were "poor" because everyone else was the same way. Meat was whatever her older brothers shot, trapped, or caught out of the river. Girl's bloomers were made out of fabric recycled from flour sacks. There was a specific brand of flour she preferred because their sacks were made out of a higher quality fabric that didn't chafe as much.
Dad was the youngest of 12, but, still dropped out of school at 14 to go to work to help support the family. Enlisted in the Navy at 17. Spent 4 years in the Pacific During WW II. Would never talk about it. Eventually landed a job in a local steel mill. And like above, worked as many "doubles" (16 hr shifts) and holidays as he could to earn the extra $$$'s. In the world's eyes, he was just a common laborer. If I could be half the man he was...
I tell folks I didn't know we were poor until we finally accumulated together enough money to buy a TV. Seeing all the fine houses and cars showed me just how poor we were. Although in school all the kids were dressed alike. There were no designer clothes there. Mom worked in a "shirt factory" and dressed us in irregulars and commissary purchases. We got new jeans every year, but mom bought them too big on purpose. We had to cinch up the waist and turn up the cuffs. As the year went on and we grew, there would be rings around the pants legs where they used to be cuffed. All the boys had them. When the jeans were finally ripped or stained they became work clothes or summer shorts.
Dad said "we live within our means". We weren't poor we just had low income in our house. Dad was a 7th grade dropout and Mom was a high school dropout.
We rarely ate out, we didn't have much of the "entertainment" that the world seems so dependent on these days. I felt cheated because kids I knew would go out for burgers or something called "pizza" that sounded like heaven. We had a small 15 acre farm that Dad worked on after his day job. A couple dairy cows, a few Angus, pigs, chickens, ducks, fruity trees and a big garden. Mom canned, fixed our meals, took care of things around the house and loved us. Bread and milk was a regular nighttime snack. I wore K-mart or Stan's Merry Mart clothes, my friends got stuff from Sears and I was really jealous of the Pro Keds shoes. Dad'd put empty bread sacks over my socks to keep my feet dry in my boots.
In hindsight we had it all. I never once wondered where our next meal was coming from, we ate like rich folk. Dad and I'd dip the cream from the milk to put on our wheat chex or over a bowl of fresh peaches...that was eating at its best. Hard work was how we lived. We had a pickup, travel trailer and little fishing boat. Since I was the product of a 3rd marriage Dad retired (the 1st time) when I was 10 and we spent weeks every summer fishing in BC.
It's funny how my childhood turned out to be the roadmap for my life. My wife and I live within our means. If the weather breaks we'll hook up the trailer and head to Valley of Fire this next weekend to warm up for a few days.
Can remember when I was little, Dad, before he went to bed, would sometimes open up a can of tomatoes and sprinkle sugar over them. The he and I would polish them off. It doesn't sound too appetizing to me now, but that was " Depression Dessert". Mother said canned tomatoes back in the Depression were one of the cheapest things you could get to eat. After Dad died, I would go with Mother to the grocery store. Every time she'd pick up a dozen eggs out of the cooler, she look at the price and lament the fact " Eggs were only a nickle a dozen in the Depression". How those folks out in West Texas survived the Depression along with the Dust Bowl was amazing. Mother said a lot of peoples teeth got ruined back then because everyone's food had sand in it. She said my grandmother had to sweep the house out about 3 times every day.
Supper was corn meal mush with a pat of butter in the middle and sprinkled with cinnamon 2/3 times a week. When there was steak it was round steak. Breakfast cream of wheat or oatmeal. When a hog was butchered there was the scrapple and head cheese.
I tell folks I didn't know we were poor until we finally accumulated together enough money to buy a TV. Seeing all the fine houses and cars showed me just how poor we were. Although in school all the kids were dressed alike. There were no designer clothes there. Mom worked in a "shirt factory" and dressed us in irregulars and commissary purchases. We got new jeans every year, but mom bought them too big on purpose. We had to cinch up the waist and turn up the cuffs. As the year went on and we grew, there would be rings around the pants legs where they used to be cuffed. All the boys had them. When the jeans were finally ripped or stained they became work clothes or summer shorts.
Wow, that description of jeans brought back a flood of memories.
I tell folks I didn't know we were poor until we finally accumulated together enough money to buy a TV. Seeing all the fine houses and cars showed me just how poor we were. Although in school all the kids were dressed alike. There were no designer clothes there. Mom worked in a "shirt factory" and dressed us in irregulars and commissary purchases. We got new jeans every year, but mom bought them too big on purpose. We had to cinch up the waist and turn up the cuffs. As the year went on and we grew, there would be rings around the pants legs where they used to be cuffed. All the boys had them. When the jeans were finally ripped or stained they became work clothes or summer shorts.
My dad entered and won a cereal eating contest. First prize was our first black and white TV and a "Pong" video game. Played that game until we wore it out.
One of the most frequent meals at home was spam in scrambled eggs with pork n beans
Our version was hotdogs cut into little pieces and fried before adding the eggs. My brother & I would compete to see who got the chunk of "pork" from the can of pork and beans.
Dad came from eastern New Mexico and grew his own chilies. We'd roast, peel and grind them, then he'd freeze it in baby food jars and ration it to get through the winter. It was the condiment served with every meal. Ground up green chili with scrambled eggs is still one of the best breakfasts I've had. We also ate lots of pinto beans cooked with a chunk of salt pork and biscuits were on the menu several times a week.
We always had venison, fish, clams, crab, a garden and bottle of Pepsi with popcorn on Saturday night that was a treat. We never went hungry. Life was good! 😎
One of my favorites was field corn on the cob. But you had to catch it at just the right time.
Remember when chicken was considered poor man's meat? We ate so much that I got burnt out on it, and couldn't stand to touch it for several years after I was grown.
While Dad was a civil engineer, as a young man, he did well - but I am the oldest of seven kids. Cash was spread sort of thin, if you get my drift . While we never starved, money was tight, as he bought farms and ranches, while providing for all those mouths. We ate, but not extravagantly, slaughtered our own beef, and after the 2 youngest got into school - started a dairy, where Mom ran the show, while waiting on folks. She used to cut the legs off the back of holey blue jeans, and sew them over the front of a pair getting thin. Those were nice on cold days, but especially when bucking hay bales - pretty resistant to stickers! All of us worked hard, and have done pretty well (me) up to VERY well (some of my siblings). The next generation seems to be doing just fine, also. Can't beat that!
Hell, I think I was 10 before I ever knew that hamburger rolls existed. I still like a burger cooked in a cast iron skillet and put between 2 slices of white bread.
This thread brought back some memories. I was born in the late thiries and was an only child for 12 years so things never seemed too bad. We got married in 1958 and it wasn't until years later I realized we were too poor to get married. After marriage my wife started looking at my socks which were almost all darned in the heels. She made a lot of cutting remarks as she started throwing them out. New socks were quite a step up in my life.
Hell, I think I was 10 before I ever knew that hamburger rolls existed. I still like a burger cooked in a cast iron skillet and put between 2 slices of white bread.
This. Ive never bought a bag of buns. Bread is better on weiners too. Bread, chili, mayo and weiner. Ummm.
Dad's dad was the blacksmith in the small town where they lived. He said as far as basics they got by okay and better than some did during the depression mostly from locals resident and farmers bartering food, fuel and other necessities for badly needed blacksmith work. He just didn't get paid in cash money very often. Mom's family got by on what they were able to grow and raise themselves and bartering eggs, butter and cured pork for what they didn't have money to buy. No cash money seems to be the most common theme with many folks I've know that lived in rural areas during the depression years. Some folks said they were already so poor before the big depression that they didn't notice much a difference.
Grew up dirt poor in Rural Va and FL. I had a great childhood with wonderful parents. They taught me good music, a love for reading, and how to leave home at 17 and meet the world head on, and successfully.
My older brother got messed up bad in a tractor accident when Mom was pregnant with me. Mentally he's still 8, and can't walk. Before I turned three, a split rim truck wheel killed dad. My half uncle threw mom off the farm, and sold it. We were poor. I didn't know. I was probably 40, when I started thinking about the time a different uncle gave Mom bags of beef bones for broth. She cooked them down and canned the broth. And cousins dropping off deer. Some even had tags, not many. Powdered milk, mixed with a little real milk to make it better. Patches, jeans bought too big and darted, darts taken out as I grew. Homemade clothes, that was cheaper back then. We never bought ketchup, Mom canned it. And everything else
I mentioned some of it to Mom, she broke down crying, and said "I can't believe you remember that." I really didn't understand it then, it just slowly dawned on me, and bits came together. We both had a cry then. She, embarrassed that was how I had to grow up. Me, seeing my Mom shamed, while I was so damned proud of her raising us on nothing but her hard work and determination.
My stepdad came around when I was about 10. He helped out, then married Mom. I only used the "Step" to be clear. Most people recognize him as my Dad. Few have a better man in their lives.
P.S. The only time i ever knew we might be poor was because i got free lunches at school. The middle class kids got reduced lunches. The couple rich kids paid the whole 50 cents.
P.P.S. This wasnt a poor me. It was what it was. And I'm proud of my mother.
Take a fork in the back of the hand over that cube of fat in the pork-n-beans
😄😄
An old codger I knew used to claim that he was darn near grown before he learned a chicken had more to eat on it than a neck and wingtips. He said back when he was a kid the grownups always ate first and the kids ate last so by the time the kids got to eat the neck and wingtips were usually all that was left of fried chicken.
Never ate that, but did eat something called a sandwich spread. Which was nothing but salad dressing and pickle relish.
My dad took sandwich spread sandwiches to work for lunch every day. Nothing else on them. Just two slices of bread and sandwich spread. We were poor and I knew it. We never went on a vacation. Ate stuff like liver and onions, boxed mac n cheese, pancakes and hot dogs n beans all the time beause it was cheap. We never went to the movies. Grew a big garden and canned vegetables. Didn't have a TV till I was 13. We'd all pile in the car friday nights after supper and go to my grandparents to watch TV. Some weekends us kids got to stay overnight so we could watch cartoons on Saturday morning. The only place we ever ate out was Carrols and that was an extremely rare treat. Usually if we needed to eat while out on the road dad would stop at a grocery store and buy a loaf of bread and a package of cheap bologna and we'd eat it in the car. I never knew what a beef steak tasted like until I was out on my own and bought one for myself.
Our family ate a lot of the same stuff I see spoken of in this thread. Except for the Cream of Wheat. We ate grits. Times were different then. Some things we had and some things we didn't. That doesn't mean we were poor though and I never thought we were. We had chores and grew up working from an early age. We were taught to appreciate what we had and to love and respect those that provided it to us. I learned from my Dad that you ate the burnt toast, on the rare occasion that it happened, not because it was all we were going to get, but because we loved the lady that burned it while she was trying to get the three of her children ready for school and cook them breakfast at the same time.
My parents made sacrifices for the family, saved and invested money that they knew would pay off in the long run and it did. My brothers and I earned money to buy the things we thought we needed and because of that we appreciated and took care of those things. We knew how hard it was to get them. I cleaned brick when I was 10 years old to get money to buy a baseball glove. Still have it 57 years later.
I didn't understand then why I didn't have a lot of the things I saw friends getting. I understand now the values I was being taught and I hope I have passed those values on to my boys. I was never poor.
we ate a hell of a lot of deer meat and cheap beef when i was a kid. and my mom, god bless her, only had a couple of ways to cook it in her repertoire. i remember whining "not steak again" when i was little. but calling it steak was being kind. think the toughest round steak cooked to a hard gray disk in a toaster oven and coated with salt and pepper. dad used to buy a side at a time from a slaughter house that was run by a bunch of czech brothers who barely spoke english.
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