To all of you folks over sixty, come on over and share some of your life experiences. For the oldest among you, what was it like growing up during the depression years? We lived in a small town close to Lake Ontario. Those were the days when men criss-crossed Canada seeking work. Because our rented house (not many ordinary people owned houses back then) was situated by a fairly busy highway, tramps would come knocking on our kitchen door seeking handouts.
They never asked for money. "Missus, could you spare a bit of tea. I have some milk?" One asked my mother. Others would have tea and milk and asked for some bread and butter/ My mother was sure there was a hidden mark on our back door because we were the only house on the street to attract the tramps.
They were not tramps, really. They were men desperately in search of work not sitting on street corners begging for coins.
I was fortunate most of the time as I grew up. My father was employed and my family was considered "well off," until I was thirteen years old and my father foolishly lost his job. My world turned upside down. After high school my hopes to attend university fell by the wayside and I took a business course. My first job, as a stenographer with Canadian General Electric paid me $15.00 a week! That was above the minimum wage. The minimum wage in 1939 for females was $12.50 a week.
Forget the depression, have you a childhood memory to share? Happy. Sad. Devilish fun. My brother, Harry and I, got into some scrapes and lived to tell the tale.
Check my website for information about my published books and how to purchase them. That's my sales pitch for to-day.
Anita
www.anitabirt.com
2 comments:
By the time I was interested in my grandmothers' childhoods, they were still alive but too far gone mentally to share stories. I worked for two years with the elderly five years ago and what surprised me most was that most of the women I worked with were career ladies. It was only the wealthiest who had been housewives. Amazing women and fascinating to listen to, even those with dementia. Most of them would have been young adults in the depression years. One even served in WWII.
Thanks, Heather. The older citizens I meet are mostly "with it" and have fascinating stories. I don't want to lose them.
Having said that, I am supposed to write my family story since the reservoir of the past is inside my head. Must start writing that before I disappear.
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