Finances and Quality of Life

My father lost his position at the bank by steps as it were. His stipend there had been $125 per month, and it was reduced by increments of $25 per month until it reached $50 per month from which level he was let go altogether. I can sort of recall when one of the reductions in pay occurred and he came home sometime during the day with the news. For some reason he did not go back to work that day but absorbed himself in some work around the yard — probably to keep his mind off the looming family problems.

After my father lost his job at the bank he worked briefly in one of the New Deal public works projects. I have some recollection of him leaving the house early in the day for this work — where it was, how he got there, etc. I have no idea. I seem to recall that it was during the colder time of the year as he was warmly dressed when he left.

The Depression years, after my father lost his job as bookkeeper the bank were years of worry and concern. As it turned out the family was never hungry, or without shelter, or unclothed, but meeting the needs of a growing family was a trying ordeal. One incident sticks in my mind, which occurred during my freshman year in high school. In some way my mother had broken her glasses and it seemed to her as the last straw. As it happened I had entered an essay competition in connection with my English class and had worn the third prize in the state, the sum of $5. I don’t recall what organization sponsored the contest.

Anyway I had my father convert my prize into five silver dollars. Seeing my mother in tears, I offered her my five silver dollars to fix her broken glasses. I suppose that that sum was sufficient to make the repair at the time. She declined the offer, though I have the faint recollection that she was somewhat heartened by my offer. What happened in the end to my five silver dollars I have no recollection. I suppose that my mother had her glasses repaired somehow or other but I can’t recall as to that either.

After my father started working regularly at the county treasurer’s office in Fort Dodge, the financial condition of the family improved — there were even sufficient funds available to buy the 1940 (?) Plymouth to replace the aging Essex. By that time my father had inherited my grandfather Strand’s farm so perhaps it was the income from that that bought the Plymouth.

After the war was over the family back to the little brown house and I’d surmise that the late 1940s and the early 1950s were about as easy a life for my mother was any in her life. She acquired a new range for her kitchen and had a refrigerator for the first time in her life. She also had an abundance of hot softened water because of the new water heater and softener in the basement.

My father had retired and there was sufficient income from Social Security and from the farm to comfortably meet their needs. By that time I believe that the indebtedness on the farm had been paid off. The children were all gone so that need was absent. Marold I guess was home during the summer months while he was away at college at Gustavus. Except possibly for his school expenses, none of the children needed any further financial help.

As I mentioned the debt on the farm had been retired and with Vincent farming the land it was a continuing source of psychological satisfaction to my parents, particularly my father. With Vincent on the farm, Vivian either in Fort Dodge, Des Moines or Ames, Clarice in Dallas Center, three of her children were close enough for easy visits. Verner, Marold and I were farther afield during all or part of this time but we would come back to Gowrie periodically. As my parents aged, Vincent and his wife Jean were always on hand to assist in household and financial matters. I do not think that I or my siblings have ever adequately recognized what the two of them did for my parents in making their declining years easy ones for them.