The Great Depression

The 1920s was a time of seemingly endless prosperity and excess in America. As the United States became the wealthiest nation in the world, many felt the “Boom Times” would never end. However, by the fall of 1929, the American economy began to crumble as the United States slipped into an economic depression that would endure for over a decade. While the nation was shaken to its very core, it was during the Great Depression that American fortitude and perseverance were redefined.

This book will chronicle the Great Depression from the Crash of 1929, through the Dust Bowl, Hoovervilles, and the Bonus Army March. Riding the rails, the New Deal, FDR’s Fireside Chats, and the Roosevelt Presidency will all be featured in this examination of the Depression Era. Told through the eyes of those who lived through this most challenging American experience, The Great Depression will present a personal and heartfelt account that students and teachers will easily identify with.

I thought my future was secure. After wheeling-and-dealing on the stock market from ’22 to ’26, I had amassed a fortune, or what I thought was a fortune. I just couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t be satisfied. The more I saw others becoming millionaires, the more I wanted that same dream. I sank my life savings into a sure thing: RCA. My broker said the money was flowing from an endless well, and I believed him. My $2750 turned into $6,500; then it turned into $24,000; then it grew to $88,000. When my stock hit $280,000, I thought about cashing in and checking out, but I had bought in to the grand illusion. I wanted a million. I should have cashed out in March 1929, but I was no gutless quitter. I toughed it out and made even more money. When others were running and selling on October 24, I hung in there and saw my fortune grow to $950,000; I was almost there. Then on October 29, 1929, I saw my fortune disappear in less than 7 hours. Almost a millionaire, now I’m penny-less, homeless, hopeless, and I feel worthless. The American Dream, right?

They say the first time is always the toughest, and I’ll tell you they’re right. I tried to put it off, thinking it would never happen to me. I tried to rationalize it, thinking there were plenty of others doing it. I looked for other options, but none of these choices panned out. So, mustering all of my courage and swallowing all of my pride, I finally did it. I took my family to the local soup kitchen to get our first hand-out, our first hot meal in weeks.

The line wrapped around the block, people tried to cut into the line, only to be pushed and beaten back by those hungrier and equally as desperate. They came from every walk of life, from every ethnic, racial, and religious group; the faces told the same story of rock bottom, the same embarrassment, the same apologetic gaze. The faces of the servers were a mix of pity and judgement, or so I thought. A priest offered prayers, a nurse offered care for the sick, a grandmother offered small loaves of bread. I grudgingly accepted assistance, despite my every urge to refuse. Hunger pains had never conquered my pride, until the pains came from my children.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfylLnHjcu0

Welcome to the neighborhood, the Hooverville. This community was constructed out of desperation, by folks who found themselves on the corner of homeless and hopeless. The walls, roofs, windows, and doors are products of others’ refuse, the furnishings comprised of items left on the streets by the wealthy and well-to-do who are oblivious to the suffering that surrounds them. My family’s new domicile is a far cry from the 3-bedroom, electrified, and heated home which was such a source of pride for me. Indoor plumbing, for crying out loud! How could this be happening? My kids used to play with the latest and most popular toys, now they make due with a stick and rubber ball. In spite of their surroundings, my children’s imaginations are as vibrant as ever as they pass the hours with rigorous games of stick-ball, tag, and hide-and-seek. If only I could share their joy and innocence, if only I could make the most of the situation the way they do, if only I could count my blessings, as few as they are, and hold out hope for tomorrow. The Hooverville is a community held together by the laughter of children.

The Great Depression, like other eras in American history, occurred during an era which popular music captured the mood of the nation and told the story of society. Click this link to listen to some of the most popular songs from the Great Depression. Listen as the lyrics and music paint a picture of American life during the depression.

https://archive.org/details/AlJolson-BrotherCanYouSpareADime

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJyKIErmYWE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXOPAFMOp0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9H7NhI2pn5M

Here he is, our fearless leader President Herbert Hoover. The great engineer, the leader of the World War I conservation effort, the Secretary of Commerce during the Boom Times of the Roaring Twenties, Hoover seemed like the perfect choice. My friends told me he was an out-of-touch rich man who didn’t understand the plight of the common man. I actually argued in favor of this guy, calling him a self-made man, a man that would lead us to even greater days of prosperity. If only I could take my vote back, if only we could have a do-over of the Presidential Election, maybe we would have chosen a leader, a man like Alfred E. Smith, who told us not to believe the hype being shopped by Hoover.

Three years into the Great Depression, and Hoover is still telling us that recovery is just around the corner, refusing to allow the government to help struggling Americans like me. The rumor is Franklin D. Roosevelt is thinking about running for President in ’32, and I’m telling you, even though I’m a lifelong Republican, it’s time to turn the reins over to someone who has a clue about getting our country back on track. I love my country, but I don’t love some of the scoundrels we choose to run it. FDR in ’32!!!!!!!