Chapter 3 – Hard Times
Chapter 3
HARD TIMES
The summer of 1930 was a difficult one. Said Dad: Our wheat is a good crop, but the price
is the lowest since 1914 or 1492, I forget which. And Mother reported: Dad would need a
new tractor soon or go back to the old fashioned methods, and I am darn sick of this old car,
but our credit is good.
The hired man’s wife was having another baby (this was a regular event) and his
children asked Mother to call the doctor and to help until the doctor got there.
Finding the patient lying on the bare linoleum-covered floor, Mother got towels to
put under her and asked the girls to put on water to heat. Although the doctor didn’t
arrive until the baby was well on its way to being born, Dad said: I suppose the doctor
will get all the money.
Katherine is anxious to work hard so we won’t have to hire any other help in
the house. I told her if we could get along that way I’d pay her what I usually
paid a woman. She claims she needs the money. She is always ready to slave
long and hard to get a little money, but when she gets it she always thinks
of something she would like to get for someone else. She is the most unselfish
creature. I keep lecturing her on getting herself placed first – told her probably
she’d have opportunity to do things for me when I am old and gray-headed, but
she just laughed and proceeded to buy me a new bedspread – blue to match
my wallpaper.
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Growing up on Anne’s Farm
We already had an extra-large family in addition to feeding threshers (neighbors
in for the day to help with the harvest); four of our city cousins were visiting for
the week – Wyley and Dwayne Eaton and Hoyt and Uellen Mills. The cousins
always loved coming to the farm for a week, and we had lots of room for them.
However, even with threshers coming, Dad had to go to Mt. Clemens for the
probate of Grandma True’s will, so he missed the morning of threshing. But nextdoor neighbor Eli Kent brought his truck to take the wheat down to the mill
in Armada (Fig. 17 & 18), and he had a lot of patience with the kids – loaded
them all in and gave them rides back and forth. Of course they had a wild and
hilarious time.
Figure 17. Aunt Grace’s painting of the mill in Armada.
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Chapter 3 – Hard Times
Figure 18. The mill in Armada.
One morning, Wyley was up before the rest of us and had a cinnamon roll for
breakfast. Mother asked him how he liked it. He said it was not quite as good as the
ones his mother made. Mom said she hadn’t made the rolls but had bought them at
the store in town. Wyley remarked: Then they REALLY aren’t as good as my mother’s.
We drew strips of paper to see who would help Katherine with the dishes. Martha and
Hoyt helped at noon, Dwayne and Wyley at supper, and Uellen and I at breakfast. This
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Growing up on Anne’s Farm
assignment was for the whole week, not just for threshers. Dwayne said: Gee, I wish
my Dad would buy a farm. We never have threshers at our house. Dwayne made himself
sick eating too many apples and Hoyt had a toothache; Uellen broke out with a skin
problem that had been treated but was still a problem: a typical visit at the farm.
That same summer, a hailstorm damaged some of the apples, and the insurance paid
$500. People went out and picked up pailfuls of hailstones and made ice cream. A
goose wandering in somebody’s yard near Berville was struck on the top of the head
by a large hailstone, and it killed the goose. One house near Berville had sixteen panes
of glass broken by hail during the storm.
On August 30, 1930, Dad wrote a letter to Agnes, updating her on the farm activities:
We threshed oats and barley – 950 bushels of oats and 112 of barley. I would
have liked 1000 bushels of oats and 500 bushels of barley.
The drought is becoming serious and I fear that it & the hail have destroyed all
chance of a good bean crop.… Corn is backward.… We are feeding hay twice a
day now as there is no pasture due to drought.… We have an unlimited amount
of straw & can feed some of this, if necessary.
Unless we sell some cows, we will be milking 17 or 18 in the winter. We had
hoped to sell some but hard times make selling difficult & prices low. However,
the drought is apparently about to bring up the price of milk, & we may keep
them all.
We can now get any amount of day help for $2.50 per day & dinner. We could
probably get them for $2.00. Men call up or drive out looking for work. How can
a man with a family live, who works irregularly during the summer for $2.50 per
day & is idle most of the winter? I fear this sounds as pessimistic as much of the
talk I hear, but I do not feel particularly that way. I believe we can survive here,
and I can see so many who are worse off than we are that I think we should
not complain.
Agnes had returned to an internship at the University of Michigan hospital and started
on her Ph.D. in child psychology. After Grandma True’s death, Dad owned sixty
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Chapter 3 – Hard Times
percent of the farm, and Agnes forty percent and the family cottage on Lake Orion;
they were also renting the house in town. Agnes had always had some financial help
from the family for her education, and naturally expected some help from the farm to
meet expenses. When no help appeared from either source, however, she wrote Dad
asking for an accounting, with a list of specific questions about the farm. He answered
some of the questions in a return letter, but not all of them. As a result, Agnes wrote
Mother complaining about Dad’s failure to respond to all the questions, and Mother
replied: He is so tired at the end of the day that he can’t write long letters. Agnes replied: I
don’t care if he is tired, I want the questions answered and I need something from the farm.
She asked about the rent from the house in town and about Mother’s egg sales: Could
you send me half? Instead, Mother packed up a large box of canned goods from the
garden to send, and that sufficed for a while.
In early 1931 Agnes learned more about the problems at home. Mother was in the
hospital having an abdominal tumor removed. When the family doctor operated,
he learned that she was also pregnant. Although he felt the pregnancy should be
terminated, the hospital was Catholic, and they wouldn’t allow him to perform the
abortion. After she came home, the doctor kept track of the fetus and found that it
had not progressed for eight weeks or so, and he would have to perform the abortion
at home. We children had not been aware of this pregnancy. Since the doctor had
to sterilize his equipment in the kitchen, it was obvious that he was performing an
operation, but we supposed it was another tumor that had to be removed.
Mother had a slow recovery, and we had to have help for a while. Although Katherine
took over a lot of the chores, a practical nurse from Detroit came out for a few weeks.
Believing that it was not proper for her to eat with us, Mrs. Davis refused and ate in
the kitchen. I can remember her standing in the kitchen doorway on Sunday morning,
singing spirituals as we ate breakfast.
Although Mother was less active, Dad was active in community affairs. Martha wrote
that he was singing in the choir at church for the Easter service. Also, he had been
toastmaster at the Father-Son Banquet and was to give a talk at the parent-teachers
organization. And on the bright side, his new tractor was finally delivered in time to
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Growing up on Anne’s Farm
use for spring work. Although spring crops were planted, they were not coming up
well due to the dry weather.
In March the men took down the old middle barn; it wasn’t being used and had
become quite an eyesore. Jack wrote Agnes that his job was to pick up pieces of the
wood that could be used for kindling and he was paid one cent per bushel. He earned
eight cents.
In the late spring, Agnes also developed problems. She had an automobile accident,
and they thought it was because of carbon monoxide from the car. Later she developed
a spot on her lungs, which raised the question of tuberculosis. Finally, complete bed
rest for several months was ordered, and in August, with our family doctor’s approval,
she came out to stay at the farm. Agnes had her bed in the front parlor and used her
own dishes and utensils, which Mother washed in the kitchen that was set up in the
front hall. The doctor did not think there was much chance of infecting the rest of
the family, but we children had to be tested for TB every four months for a couple of
years afterward.
That same summer we acquired a used bathtub from Uncle Dan (he was a contractor).
No more taking baths in a washtub on the kitchen floor! But we did not have running
hot water and had to heat it on the kerosene stove in the kitchen and carry pails of
it in to the bathtub. Since this hot water was in short supply, we had to decide on
Saturday nights (as we took our baths in reverse order of age, youngest to the oldest)
whether we wanted to have our quota of hot water added to the previous bath or have
fresh but a more limited amount of water.
When it was time for the twins to begin school, Dad and Mother debated and consulted
with Agnes about the wisdom of sending them both together. Jack was very protective
of Janet, and she had relied on him in many ways. Because the school was small and
there was no opportunity of putting them in separate rooms, they decided to send
Jack to school and keep Janet at home another year. Mother had been a teacher and
could get Janet started toward more independence. Also, Janet had problems with
coordination (attributed to her having sustained nerve damage from both births), and
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