My dad said there was no electricity on the family farm in the 1930s because they “didn’t need it.” Their water was pumped from the windmill. Their stove burned wood. They did have a phone on the wall for a while (electricity provided by the telephone company), but only got calls when somebody needed help.
These are a few of the things I learned from a cassette recording that my great-niece, Trisha, made in 1990 with her great grandpa — my dad. Trish had a high school assignment to interview someone who lived through the Great Depression of the 1930s. My dad, Paul Breit, was born in Pfeifer, Kan., in 1904, and married my mom in the big, beautiful church there in 1926. They lived on the family farm and by 1934 my older sister and brother were born.
When Trish asked Dad for his worst memory of the Depression, he replied, “Didn’t have a nickel.” Families traded food items with their neighbors — chickens for beef, potatoes for corn. But they always had enough to eat. Meals might consist of one food item — chicken tails with gravy, or dumplings, or just lots of potatoes.
Gas for the tractor was 8 cents a gallon. Farmers got 24 cents a bushel for their wheat. Dad was happy to sell 14 baby pigs for 50 cents each. Once he sold a 100-pound sow for $3. They fed eggs back to the chickens because the store wouldn’t buy any.
Dad said nobody was scared to get married or have kids during the Depression. When my brother was born in 1934, my parents were broke, and there was no full-time work. So after the summer harvest, they moved to Chicago, where I was born. My dad was hired by a large manufacturing company, Stewart-Warner, to run a lathe even though he didn’t know what a lathe was. He eventually worked up to 69 cents an hour. My mom soldered wires on pinball machines for 30 cents an hour. They must have done alright because my dad paid $825 cash for a new 1941 Plymouth, which they drove to Kansas every summer to visit. Eventually we moved back to western Kansas and then came to Wichita in 1948. My parents bought a small restaurant to run and a home where I grew up.
We aren’t suffering now as badly as people did during the Depression, but prices have soared. The Active Age remains a free newspaper, but it’s not free to produce. Prior to the pandemic, our postage and printing costs totaled about $18,000 a month. This year, we expect to pay about $26,000 — a 44-percent increase that adds up to nearly $100,000 over 12 months.
Please consider a donation to help us continue producing and delivering The Active Age. After all, you’re probably not as broke as my family was in 1930s! Thank you in advance for your generous support.
Diana Wolfe is treasurer of The Active Age’s board of directors. Contact her at dcwolfe2000@yahoo.com.
