The Farm Life during the Great Depression
My father left us the gift of stories of his growing up years during the Great Depression. You don't really appreciate these stories until you're older.
My grandparents, Harry and Bertha, were married in 1926. My dad always used to say that his dad was a terrible farmer. After getting married they started as tenant farmers at the Jack Gill Farm. The usual split for tenant farmers was 3/5 for the farmer and 2/5 for the owner. Sounds like a heck of a deal for the owner.
Their second farm was The Crow's Nest about a year later. My dad was born there in 1928, or more accurately at the neighbor's farm during a blizzard on January 2nd. Only my dad's older sister had the luxury of being born in a hospital.
In 1929 they moved to their third farm, The Adrian Farm. Both my dad's younger brothers were born at this farm. My dad talks about his bus rides to school. He said "in cold weather heat was provided by running the exhaust through a pipe under one bench seat. The pipe could almost be red hot." How do you think that would fly in current times?
He also talks about dust storms and crop failures during this time. He said at the height of the dust storm it was as dark as midnight and the air was unbreathable. Afterwards everything was covered with dust, animals died, wells were contaminated, and fields were unproductive.
Also at the Adrian Farm there was a grasshopper plague. The grasshoppers not only ate their way through the fields, but also devoured the laundry my grandmother had hung out to dry.
In 1933 they moved to The Reed Farm. My grandmother acquired a wooden washing machine that was powered by a gas engine with a long belt to the wash. The water had to be heated indoors and then carried outside. Can you imagine?
My grandfather had a buck sheep that apparently terrorized everyone. The buck even learned how to open the door knob with his mouth. In the end the buck did himself in by jumping over a fence and catching his collar on a picket and hanging himself.
They lived on The Reed Farm until 1935 when my grandfather died of pneumonia on March 25th. He had been trying to earn extra money for the family by hauling rocks with his team and wagon for the Works Progress Administration during the winter. The exposure and dampness got his him and in the days before antibiotics pneumonia was often fatal.
So at the age of 27 my grandmother was widowed with four young children. Following my grandfather's death the farm had it's best ever crop. My grandmother's brother came to help harvest the crop. Then she held a farm sale which left her with about $100 after everything was sold.
Without a car my grandmother had to rely on her parents so they moved off the farm and into the big city of Flandreau, SD. My dad's paternal grandparents and family never offered any help and never came to visit. To this day we know very little about that side of the family.
So, whenever I start thinking I have a rough life I'm going to remember my ancestors who really had a rough life. I wouldn't have made it one winter in South Dakota
This is part one of my dad's story. My blog is a like a diary so I like to document the past as well as the present day. I also hope my girl's will learn a little bit about where they came from.
What stories did your parents share with you?
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