You are going to begin by researching
the resources listed below to learn about your life in the 1930s. Using the
information you learn, you will write four letters to your pen-pal living in
1998. Each letter will focus on the following four aspects of your life.
1.
Do you have four complete,
revised, edited and typed letters?
2.
Is each letter focused
on the subjects described in the Task section of this WebQuest? Do your letters
acurately describe facts about life in the 30s?
3.
Has each letter been
written using the writing process? (Brainstorming, Prewriting, Drafting, Response,
Revision, Editing, Publication). Do your letters show improvement from first
draft to final copy?
When you complete this WebQuest,
you will be able to identify and understand the setting of To Kill a Mockingbird.
As you read the novel, you will have a greater understanding of the personal,
social, and political issues which are dealt with in the story.
INTERVIEW: GROWING UP WHITE
IN THE SOUTH IN THE 1930s
Like Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird, the three
women in this interview (excerpted from Understanding to Kill a Mockingbird)
grew up in the deep South of the 1930s. All three were members of what could
be described as prominent souther families. .... The three women discuss many
of the issues raised in To Kill a Mockingbird: how they defined a "good
family" (so dear to Aunt Alexandra's heart and so baffling to Scout and
Jem); poor whites in Alabama and Florida (very like the Cunninghams); their
relationship with African-Americans; and the expectations and realities of those
who would grow up to be proper southern "belles."
After reading the interviews, consider the questions below.
Interviewer: In historical fictional stories about the South in the time
in which we're interested - the 1930s - one hears frequent reference to what
were called "good families" or "old families." What is your
understanding of that term?
Mary Ann: Gee, I never really thought about it.
Camille: Nobody had very much money. In the Depression years. If your
father had a job, you had a good family.
Mary Ann: Yes, if your father was gainfully employed.
Cecil: Yes, if your mother stayed at home and everyone had a maid or
two.
Camille: And a cook.
Mary Ann: And a nurse and a yard man.
Cecil: But that did not mean you were a wealthy family.
Mary Ann: Good families were all good church members.
Camille: We considered ourselves a "good" family, but we were
land poor. We owned a great deal of land but it wasn't bringing in any income
in the thirties. There was just no cash flow. On the other hand, there was not
much tax on land.
Mary Ann: That describes our situation as well at that time.
Cecil: I guess I was a city child. Land ownership didn't enter the
picture much, though I suppose ours was considered a good family. My father
was a lawyer. We had some land in the county that my father went hunting on.
But I never thought about land. It just wasn't part of my life.
Camille: I think "good" families were differentiated by a certain
accent, too.
Mary Ann: It was the way people talked.
Camille: It was the pronunciation of "I." Didn't say "niiice"
and "whiiite," dragging the "I" sound out.
Cecil: I think yours and Mary Ann's background are different from mine,
growing up in a larger town.
Interviewer: In that your father was a lawyer, perhaps your experience is
much closer to Scout's in To Kill a Mockingbird.
Cecil: That's true. Yes, I think so. My father was of the old school.
integrity was the byword. They looked down very much on those who cheated and
stole, especially from the poor. And I remember him talking about one well-off
family who did just that and became very prominent later. It was an attitude.
You never cheated anybody, and especially anybody lesser than you. And you never
said a cross word or spoke badly to someone who couldn't speak back to you.
Camille: Yes, I think "good" families had a strong sense of
responsibility to the people whose lives they could affect. I know when the
Depression came and my family's bank failed, their main concern was to see that
other people got their money back even if they lost out themselves.
Mary Ann: This is interesting, I think. I had a grandfather who was on
farmed on our land. She couldn't read. And do you know that her great-grandfather
was headmaster of an academy before the Civil War?
Cecil: Good gracious!
Mary Ann: Then she came from educated people.
Camille: Yet by the thirties her family was sharecropping on my grandmother's
farm.
Interviewer: What happened? Was it the war?
Camille: My husband always said it was the Civil War. They just went
back to the dirt. And they had fought in the Civil War even though they never
owned slaves. Many of these men died in the Civil War.
There were lots of widows left with absolutely nothing except
a houseful of children to rear. And do you know it was the blacks who took care
of these poor white families. They cut wood for them and shared with them and
looked in on them. I had experience with another class of poor white people
in the thirties in that we lived so close to the railroad station. I remember
seeing the bums coming up the street from the railroad station. And I remember
seeing our backyard filled with these poor men, eating what my grandmother had
given them. They never asked for a handout. They would only ask for work - if
they could chop wood, for example.
Mary Ann: Our mothers belonged to an organization called the Junior Welfare,
a precursor of the Junior League. They helped take care of children whose mothers
had to work and helped get food and clothes to the needy. And there was such
need.
Cecil: Yes, I always thought it was funny that my mother went to help
take care of children whose mothers had to work and left her own child to be
taken care of by a nurse!
Interviewer: Were you allowed to play with the children of poor whites?
Cecil: I don't remember any prohibitions about it. It just didn't come
up.
Camille: I brought a lot of little children home with me from Stafford
School, but I was never allowed to go to their homes. Maybe I was never invited.
I did spend one night with the little girl whose father was on the police force.
I remember his collection of weapons, including some bloody knives, put a scare
into me.
Mary Ann: I don't remember playing with what you call poor white children.
I do remember two little girls who lived in town whose family had a very tough
time. They lived just behind my father's business and I think they resented
my better situation. They threatened to beat me up. I was terrified of them.
Interviewer: As members of prominent families, what was your relationship
with black people when you were little girls of Scout Finch's age?
Mary Ann: Your first experience with a black person was with your nurse.
And the black people that took care of these little white children instilled
in us the most wonderful traits. They stood for everything that was honest and
Christian.
Cecil: I remember complaining to my nurse Lessie that a little boy
had hit me. And she said, "Well, go hit him back." Part of your character
came from your nurses.
Mary Ann: And they were really religious.
Cecil: And you minded your nurse.
Camille: I remember the black sharecroppers who worked for my grandmother.
She supported them all year long and paid all their medical bills. Then when
the farming was done, they split the proceeds. She got half and they got half,
with the understanding that their medical costs would come out of their half.
And they trusted her implicitly. I loved to go down to Hale County on settlin'-
up day when they were paid because I could spend the day with the little black
children. And that's where I learned to love to dance.
Mary Ann: We were incredibly attached to the black people we knew well.
Cecil: But I read somewhere in a book on the South that while the white
people felt very attached to the black people back then, the black people didn't
feel that way about us.
Mary Ann: Still, we were taught to be respectful of black people.
Camille: Heavens yes. I would have had my mouth washed out with soap
so fast if I had ever referred to a black person with any word other than colored!
Cecil: My parents always used the respectful term "colored."
Camille: My main playmates for most of my childhood were black boys.
Black families lived on the street behind us and my two best friends came over
from there to play football with me. Their names were Josie and Jessie and they
were part black, part Indian, and part white. We played football every day.
We thought their mother was mean as a snake and we never knew who their father
was. Jessie is now president of a black college and Josie owns a highly successful
catering business. And I used to pick cotton with a black man and his children.
Cecil: I played with black children, too, but in my own house. I remember
when I was a little girl, I begged Mama to let our cook's little girl come play
with me. And Mama invited her over and told me not to let her out of the yard
because, you know, someone might hurt her feelings.
Mary Ann: I had black playmates, too. I remember a wonderful black girl
who played with my sister and me. She was so much fun.
Camille: Still, you never went to the houses of black people as a guest.
Interviewer: Were you proper, dainty little southern girls?
A perfect picture of the proper little girl and the ideal family in the South in the 1930s. photo courtesy of Mary Ann Norton Meredith
Mary Ann: I was very fond of dolls. I was kind of a girl-girl. But I also
climbed trees. I remember mother saying one day, "Don't you think you're
getting too big to be doing tumble-saults on the floor?" But obviously
Camille was the real tomboy.
Camille: I only played with boys. I played tackle football with
boys until I was about twelve or thirteen. One day when I was tackled, I got
the wind knocked out of me, and I went home and put on a dress and never played
football again.
Cecil: I played boys' games too, and my best friend was a boy. We had
a club and we initiated new members by feeding them leaves of the elephant-ear
plant. We'd give them nose drops with mustard in it. It's a wonder we didn't
kill somebody with our initiations.
Camille: I remember hating getting dolls and things for Christmas. I
wanted trains and trucks and things that the boys got. We ended up using my
dolls to re-enact kidnapping. We'd just throw them out the window.
Cecil: I also played jump-rope and jacks, and I skated.
Camille: I remember stopping everywhere on my way home from school. And
mother never had to worry about me.
Interviewer: In To Kill a Mockingbird , Atticus is reprimanded
by Aunt Alexandra and Mrs. Dubose for not dressing Scout properly. Do you remember
a special dress code for little girls?
Cecil: I don't remember any taboo against little girls wearing trousers,
but we were usually dressed in dresses because I remember my mother saying that
little girls should always wear pretty because they spent so much time on their
heads.
Mary Ann: We definitely weren't allowed to wear pants to school. It was
unladylike to be sunburned. But nobody ever bugged me about it.
Camille: Oh, no.
Mary Ann: Never.
Cecil: in those days, blue jeans were really tacky.
Mary Ann: As my husband says, he struggled very hard so as not to have
to work in bluejeans.
Cecil: Little girls got dressed up in the afternoons and you went to
the park. We usually wore little dresses, except in the summer when you wore
sunsuits.
Mary Ann: We were dressed up in the afternoon and taken to town, or we
would ride to the end of the trolley line and back.
Camille: You remember our Sunday School dresses? What I hated was when
they got a little too small or a little too shabby, they were converted into
everyday dresses.
Mary Ann: Most of our dresses were handmade, smocked. We all wanted to
look like Shirley Temple.
Cecil: One exception to handmade dresses were what were called Natalie
dresses brought down by these people from New York. They would have special
showings, and Mama would buy me one or two Natalie dresses, which you would
only wear on very special occasions.
Mary Ann: You never went anywhere barefoot.
Cecil: That's quite true. If you saw someone at school barefoot, that
was pitiful. The family never appeared around the house half-dressed. And you
were always dressed up for dinner. Of course, it was easy when you had someone
else serving you dinner.
Interviewer: Was there a special code of behavior for little girls who were
expected to grow up to be southern ladies?
Camille: Well, it was alright for boys to fight, but girls weren't supposed
to. It was perfectly alright for my brother to fight, but I was not allowed
to. Of course, I did it anyway.
Cecil: Yes, we weren't supposed to, but I did beat up a little boy
once. I remember his mother called to complain to Mama, and for once Mama stood
up for me. I remember her saying, "Well, he started it and he's two years
older than she is and she is a girl."
Mary Ann: Normally, little girls didn't resort to violence. I only had
one fight.
Cecil: Speech was a biggie, really. There were just certain things
you didn't say. You were corrected a lot.
Mary Ann: Correct grammar was extremely important.
Camille: We weren't to talk like the black children we played with.
Mary Ann: I can tell you, cuss words were certainly not prevalent. I never
heard them.
Camille: I don't remember Mamma and Daddy ever saying a bad word.
Cecil: There were certain coarse words you hear today that I never
heard until I was an adult. You were brought up to be a lady, which meant you
were not allowed to be coarse.
Camille: Little girls were never allowed to raise their voices.
Mary Ann: That's an important point. Ladies and gentlemen never raised
their voices.
Camille: I was never allowed to say "shut up."
Mary Ann: Mainly what you were taught good manners.
Cecil: And you were never allowed to brag or be sarcastic One word
we could never say was "pregnant."
Mary Ann: I knew the word, of course, but I believe I was grown before
I ever heard that word spoken aloud. You always said "expecting."
Cecil: There was a certain code of behavior expected on Sundays. We
could go down to the beach and get snacks and a coke, but we couldn't drink
cokes on Sunday. Many years afterwards I asked my mother why we couldn't drink
cokes on Sunday, and she couldn't remember why.
Mary Ann: Of course, we didn't play cards or go to the movies on Sunday.
Interviewer: Movie theaters back then weren't even open on Sundays, were
they?
Camille: I think that changed with air-conditioning. People would go
to the movies on Sunday to get out of the heat.
Cecil: I don't know that we can say that the three of us were typical
of little southern girls.
Mary Ann: It was a carefree time for us. We certainly seemed to live in
a kinder, gentler world.
Were they or weren't they typical southern girls raised in
a privileged way? Were their experiences so different from Scout's? Were their
experiences limited by their perception of how things were meant to be?
If you were look closely at their experiences what attitudes
do they display which were shaped by their parents? their nurses? their status
in white society? Return
to Top
FROM HELEN EKIN STARRETT,
The Charm of Fine Manners
(Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1920)
We must persistently strive against selfishness, ill-temper,
irritability, indolence. It is impossible for the self-centered or ill-tempered
girl to win love and friends.
One of the greatest blemishes in the character of any young
person, especially of any young girl or woman, is forwardness, boldness, pertness.
The young girl who acts in such a manner as to attract attention in public;
who speaks loudly, and jokes and laughs and tells stories in order to be heard
by others than her immediate companions, . . . who expresses opinions on all
subjects with forward self-confidence, is rightly regarded by all thoughtful
and cultivated people as one of the most disagreeable and obnoxious characters
to be met with in society.
INTERVIEW:
GROWING UP BLACK
IN THE 1930s
IN McCULLEYS QUARTERS, ALABAMA
Mrs. Peacolia Barge, born in 1923, lived as a small child
in an area called McCulley's Quarters and grew up in Bessemer just outside Birmingham,
Alabama. Mrs. Barge completed her college degree after her marriage and then
began a long career in teaching. Her grandparents were slaves in Alabama, and
her three children are college-educated, professional men and women. She defies
all stereotypes, just as Calpurnia does in To Kill a Mockingbird. The
interview that follows was conducted in 1993 and is excerpted from Claudia Durt
Johnson's Understanding to Kill a Mockingbird to to help support your
understanding of stereotyping in the novel.
Interviewer: Tell me what you know of your background and ancestry, Mrs. Barge.
Mrs. Barge: My mother and father came from two different areas of Alabama. My
mother grew up on the Morrisette Plantation in Alabama. We know that my grandmother
was a servant there in 1880. My grandmother had more privileges than other servants
because she worked in the house rather than in the fields. And she never lived
in the slave quarters. When the overseer left the plantation, she and her family
were allowed to move into his house. Her father was owned by one Alexander Bryant
from Kentucky, and he willed his slaves to his children. From his will, we found
that my family that found its way to Alabama was worth $385. All of my great-grandfather's
and great-grandmother's children were born in slavery. The curious thing is
that even though their children were born in slavery, they weren't married until
1867, after the Civil War. And researching the records, we found that there
were a surge of marriages after the War, as if only then were they allowed to
be married.
Anyway, the Morrisette Plantation was where my grandmother
met my grandfather. They were married in 1884 at a time when we were led to
believe few blacks ever married. When I was growing up, I knew nothing about
all this. Anything related to slavery, we didn't want to hear it. I don't think
any blacks wanted to hear anything about slavery. My mother grew up on the Morrisette
Plantation and came to Birmingham when she was 21 years old. My father's people
came from the area near Panola, Alabama. This may shock you, but the plantation
owner had seven or eight children by two of his slave. One of those offspring,
Lorenzo Dancy, was my father's father. We assume my father was illegitimate
since there are no records of any marriages there.
Interviewer: How was town life near Birmingham different from rural life when you
were young?
Mrs. Barge: My father seemed to think living near Birmingham was a great improvement
over the country. He said he left the country because he hated to be told what
to do and he could be more independent in the city. He always said that he would
refuse to be treated like a boy. I've been trying to understand my father's
rebelliousness. There were times when he would rebuke people who said certain
things to him, because he thought everything had something to do with race.
Nobody could ever tell him he couldn't have a thing or do a thing. He carried
the Bessemer Housing Authority to court in 1954 to keep them from taking his
property for a housing project. No black person had ever challenged the Authority.
He didn't win, of course -he knew he wouldn't win. But my father would challenge
anybody.
... Mother moved to the Birmingham area to get away from a
bad personal situation. But lots of people moved off the land because of crop
failures. The land was just worn out and the South was suffering from terrible
droughts. People got deep into debt-debts that were kept on the books, even
when they had actually been paid off. It was hard to challenge the records kept
by the landowners. Through the twenties and thirties, many black people hoboed
away from the South because they realized that on the farms the more you worked
the more you owed. For myself, I was never taken to the country until I was
quite a big girl.
Interviewer: So, you would describe yourself as a small-town girl, growing up just
outside Birmingham?
Mrs. Barge: Yes.
Interviewer: And you are writing a history of that area?
Mrs. Barge: Yes, McCulley's Quarters was a place where poor, working class black
people, like my mother and father, lived until they could afford to move to
a bigger house or could afford to buy their own house. Someone I have contacted
wrote me that the area was once part of a plantations slave quarters. Even when
we were there, three white families lived in McCulley's Quarters in large houses
on the edge of the neighborhood and owned all the other houses. I remember that
one white woman in particular, Mrs. Kate, kind of kept up with what was going
on in the neighborhood and came around to help when there was sickness or a
death in the black families.
Interviewer: What were the houses like? the living conditions?
Mrs. Barge: They were all shotgun houses, mostly two-room places. No electricity,
of course. Even after TVA [Tennessee Valley Authority] came to the Birmingham
area, we had no electricity until my father, who could be very stubborn and
hot-tempered, fought and fought until he managed to get electricity run to our
house. The thing we hated most about not having electricity was that we couldn't
use a radio. It wasn't until about 1940 that we got a radio.
Interviewer: About how large was McCulley's Quarters?
Mrs. Barge: It was only about a one-block area, but it had everything we needed-a
grocery store and a barber shop and a blacksmith shop.
Interviewer: How did a typical little girl spend the day when you were about six
years old?
Mrs. Barge: Oh, I led a sheltered life. Mother always kept me dressed in the dresses
she made and I was kept close around the house. I visited neighbors and played
house and read. I never wore slacks or jeans. And I never took part in the boys'
rough games. Boys picked berries in the summer and sold scrap iron.
Interviewer: As a child, did you have contacts with white people? That is, did
you have a sense of yourself as black and without certain opportunities?
Mrs. Barge: Except for the few white people who lived in the Quarters, as a child
I didn't know many white people or have a sense of being discriminated against.
My Friends were right there in the Quarters. There were very, very few children
there, so I remember primarily being with the adults. It wasn't until after
I started to school that I because aware at we couldn't go to certain parks,
couldn't swim in certain places.
During the thirties my mother had to begin taking in washing
and ironing for white people, so I began to see the white people she worked
for. Then later I came to realize other differences. For example, there were
no hospitals for black people. The one or two hospitals that would take black
people put them in the based of course the black doctor, who had been taking
care of you not be allowed to practice-to attend you in the white
Interviewer: Did your family have any contact with white people who were in an
economic situation similar to yours-people whom we would call "poor whites"?
Mrs. Barge: My mother and I didn't, but my father did at his work. I remember
him talking particularly about the woman who worked as a nurse at the factory
who always abused any black workers she had to treat who were injured on the
job. Many workers would just try to treat their own wounds rather than go to
her to help them. Some would pull their own bad teeth for the same reason, rather
than be badly treated by some white dentist....
Interviewer: Were conditions rougher in the 1930s during the Depression, or was
it more or less more of the same?
Mrs. Barge: We were always poor, but the Depression was definitely worse. People
who had had jobs lost them or, like my father, were laid off for periods of
time. And if you worked, the pay was often something like 3 or 4 dollars a week.
What my mother always said that people used the old plantation skiffs to survive:
growing gardens, canning, making absolutely everything and buying almost nothing.
Interviewer: What was education like for African-Americans in Alabama at that time?
Mrs. Barge:My mother, growing up on what had been the Morrisette Plantation, was
well educated. Churches maintained schools in the country, and children who
showed promise as good students were sought out and sent to these schools, if
their parents would pay. My mother was sent for a time to Snow Hill Institute.
Her parents scraped and picked cotton so that she could attend, but she didn't
finish. The last year the crops were too bad, and she couldn't go. Most, of
course, were not educated. My father attended school through the third grade
only. in my generation, most children I knew attended school, though many left
at an early age to go to work. I believe that compulsory schooling to the age
of 16 did not come about until about 1941.
Interviewer: What occupations were open to African-Americans as you were growing
up?
Mrs. Barge:For women, aside from domestic work and labor like laundering, the
only professions or trades were nursing and teaching. Of course, you only nursed
or taught black people. Many women worked as cooks in private homes or restaurants,
as maids in private homes or businesses. There were no black sales clerks in
stores. Men worked in the mines, in factories, as delivery boys, carpenters,
and bricklayers. They could operate elevators, but they couldn't become firemen
or policemen or salesmen. Some black men worked as tailors. Those who went into
professions became doctors or dentists or principals or preachers within the
black community.
....
Interviewer: What were the legal barriers that African-Americans faced?
Mrs. Barge: Well, of course, we weren't allowed to register to vote. Even though
I was a schoolteacher for twenty years, I didn't register to vote until the
late sixties. There were a few black attorneys who would take on cases, but
at least in Birmingham in the thirties and forties, black attorneys couldn't
practice in the courthouse. Their very presence in the courtroom was bitterly
resented by many people.
Interviewer: What was the feeling in the black community about Autherine Lucy's attempt
to enter the University of Alabama?
Mrs. Barge: They didn't know exactly what to think. But it was horrifying for
us. Terrifying. I thought I would have just given up. Everyone was very scared
for her life. The older people were especially scared for her. They thought
that the people would kill Autherine. There were other cases of black people
trying to enter the state universities, in Tuscaloosa and Birmingham, at the
time. Nobody thought they had much of a chance because every excuse in the world
would be brought up. I knew one young woman who was told that she would be accepted,
but when her mortgage company heard about it, they threatened to cancel her
mortgage. They said if their white customers found out that their company was
providing a mortgage for a black person who was trying to go to white schools,
they would take their business elsewhere. So they couldn't afford to continue
mortgaging her home if she kept trying to go to the university.
Interviewer: What about the Montgomery bus boycott?
Mrs. Barge: We were always given the same treatment on buses throughout the South
that Rosa Parks
received. Most of us had to ride the buses. We bought our tickets at the front
of the bus and then went around to the back door to get in. A sign marked where
the white section ended and the black, section began. if the white section was
filled and more white people got on, you were ordered out of your seats and
the driver would move the sign back to make the white section bigger. It was
a terrible humiliation as well as being terribly uncomfortable. We would be
jammed together in the back like sardines. Even worse was when some of the whites
would get off and some drivers would refuse to move the sign back up so that
we could have more room and a few black people could sit down.
Interviewer: Mrs. Barge, despite the difficulties and humiliations you have lived
with in the South, you don't seem to put all white people into the same category.
Mrs. Barge: No, you shouldn't put people into categories. Many of those bus drivers
treated us badly. We disliked them and made fun of them behind their backs.
But some of them were good men who were polite and considerate and would even
hold the bus for us when they knew we were late. No, not all black people are
the same and not all white people are the same.
Everyone has a story to tell about the past.
During the Great Depression of the 1930s, some Michiganians
bartered and traded for food, clothes, shelter and services. Sharing and "making
do" became a way of life. People who lived during the Depression have interesting
stories to share about how they coped with hard times.
Richard Waskin talks about life during the Great Depression.
His parents were born in Poland. He was born in East Chicago, Indiana. When
he was three years old he went back to Poland with his parents. They returned
to this country when he was four years old. They came to the Detroit area where
he spent most of his life.
The Federal Writers' Project of the 1930s recorded more than
10,000 life stories of men and woman from a variety of occupations and ethnic
groups. The following is a sampling of these interviews, which include audio
excerpts read by modern actors.
During the Great Depression of the 1930s, when as many as
one out of four Americans could not find jobs, the federal government stepped
in to become the employer of last resort. The Works Progress Administration
(WPA), an ambitious New Deal program, put 8,500,000 jobless to work, mostly
on projects that required manual labor. With Uncle Sam meeting the payroll,
countless bridges, highways and parks were constructed or repaired.
One of the causes for the Great Depression was the stock market crash.
From the end of World War I in 1919 the stock market prices kept rising.
On October 24, 1929 the stock market crashed. Stock prices plummeted.
On that one day, the value of stocks fell fourteen billion dollars. Business
started to lay off people. Small stores closed their doors. The lower
the money got the more people got laid off.
Millions of people lost all of their savings. Many people
ended up sleeping in a shelter for the unemployed and eating in soup kitchens.
Neighbors threw parties to help friends out. The parties were
a way to get food and a smile. People waited in huge lines out side of shelters
waiting for a table. There was
lots of hunger in the depression
A few people profited from the Depression but most were left
with little money. Every life was touched. People dated their life around it.
Even kids went to work as news paper boys, girls sold shellfish and things they
made. Some children spent their money on kids things and others gave the money
to parents to help with household expenses. As families came together the Depression
became a lot less sad. People found ways to smile; like living with friends,
laughter, and moving in with family. Children shared love with their parents.
The depression was not only sad and depressing. There were many happy moments
also.
Most families made their clothes out of feed sacks. Children
shared their clothes with their brothers and sisters.
FD Roosevelt promised a "New Deal" that would take
on the problems caused by the economic crisis. He was elected by a large majority.
The government tried many things to get the USA out of the
Depression but none of these ideas seemed to work well and the money stayed
low.
World War II was part of what got us out of the Depression.
The government needed people to build tanks and other things for warfare. People
went back to work. When everyone went back to work and the money started flowing
we were almost out of the Depression