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Country Discussion Topics
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Cindi    Posted 02-26-2004 at 04:19:44       [Reply]  [No Email]

...of history. This photograph was taken in 1936 and we should print it out and any time we get to feeling sorry for ourselves we should look at it. The mother (on the right) was thirty two years old. One account said she had just sold the tires from her car to buy food, another says her tent. This is a typical home of a migrant worker of the times. She and her seven children had been living off produce they could glean from the fields and birds that the children managed to kill. There is no mention of were the husband/father was.

This photo became one of the most famous examples of the desperation of the times. With no transportation, no food and no proper housing, it was indicative of the lifestyles of many uneducated picker familys who struggled to survive. I wish I knew more about her. What her name was, what the childrens names were. Where they were from and where they were going.

Could you imagine seeing your children cry for want of food? Sick and no way to treat them? Dirty with no means to clean them? How hard must that be?

KellyGa    Posted 02-26-2004 at 09:51:40       [Reply]  [No Email]
Man, that is one rough, hard to look at picture. The longer you look at it, the worse it is. I could not even begin to imagine their pain....Makes you thankful for what you have, thats for sure.

Fern(Mi)    Posted 02-26-2004 at 04:51:10       [Reply]  [No Email]
The 30's depression was also a time when families split, their individuls trasversing the continent looking for work.
These individuals settling here abd there fogot abou some of the simpler tradditions, like tha passing down of Christen names. I've seen it in researhing my family. These practices were lost down all the old lines.
I had thought it might have been a new world thing, new freedoms, new ideas, but not clearly sure in my mind. Not if I add in time and spaces between parted famly individuals created poorer communication. Poeple moving Addresses lost. Telephones still new, expensive, and not neseccarily connected to the nation.
While I carry my father's name, my son carries mine. In thesevanes, my gr-father's name was different. It was years before I ever knew of my gr,gr,fathers, and he had carried his many ancestrial fathers name with his being the last.
I think the 30's depression continues to leave marks upon us, even if it's only our family history souls.
Well, I've rambled. Better quit.
Have a pleasen Day

Clipper    Posted 02-26-2004 at 04:45:57       [Reply]  [No Email]
It was folks like that who in their own way helped to forge this great country....they sure paid a heavy toll.

SY    Posted 02-26-2004 at 04:45:42       [Reply]  [No Email]
I was 3 years old when the pic was taken.

times were tough for us but I remember we had a man and his wife liveing in our barn.

sdg    Posted 02-26-2004 at 04:34:53       [Reply]  [No Email]
I listen to my dad's storys and seeing this picture, just reminds me to be Thankful for what I have. I can take my kids to the dr and there's food on the table and a solid roof over our heads. And even when things get tight, I have my family and my God and togather, we can make it. My heart goes out to those who can't. Whose heart breaks everytime they hear thier childrens cry of hunger or sickness. We live in a world so rich and yet there are people who still suffer. I pray for them daily. I do my best to help people out and have taught my kids to do the same. I belive there should be more of that happening. But well..sadly there isn't. Thanks for the picture Cindi and for reminding all of us as we sit at our 1,000 doller computers, that we are blessed and some out there are not, but need to be.

sdg, the one who's very thankful for what she Does have.

There's two things....    Posted 02-26-2004 at 05:02:43       [Reply]  [No Email]
...that really impact me when looking at this picture. One is the fact that my mother-in-law describes living pretty much just like this when Fred was little. They were migrant pickers. Two, is the fact that the shelter they are in is very much like what we build for our animals to live in. Only with more wood and metal and less cloth. Designed by Fred, which makes me wonder how much he recalls from spending his first six years on earth living in a migrant tent. He remembers having a galvanized bucket for drinking water which was dipped from the creek or river. He talks about nights with nothing but beans or potatoes for dinner and how his father made cowboy coffee on an open fire and how his mother would express breast milk for that coffee. Now if that ain't living hand to mouth I don't know what is.


MelinOR    Posted 02-26-2004 at 13:36:22       [Reply]  [No Email]
Cindi, I have a photograph that looks just like this, of my grandmother and two or three of her nine living children (she gave birth to ten). She did this exact thing... came across the country from Tennessee to Oregon with the youngest kids, living in tents, dirt poor, old before she was even thirty-five, worn out with having babies from the time she was fourteen years old (married at thirteen). My Granddad came and went, usually long enough to make another baby, spend up Grandma's savings, and go back to his "other" family. You are absolutely right; that experience doesn't just shape one person's life. It shapes the attitudes and outlooks of generations to come. A lot of my "country" attitudes, though I have lived in the city for 80% of my life, come from my no-nonsense, hard-working, moral, scrupulous, wise Grandma.
How you been? :)

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