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| The Old House at Lincoln |
The Rush Place. Mr. Woodie and Mrs. Rush moved from across the creek, where they had been our neighbors, to the next farm above us on the opposite side of the road two or three years after we built our house. Woodie was not privileged to a formal education. He could not read or write but he had a deep desire to become a "radiotrician," a term coined by the N. R. I., a radio correspondence school. Woodie enrolled in the N. R. I. home study course. As he could not read or write, Ruth studied the course, reading them to him and filling out his exam papers. I have a few of the text lessons he studied back then in the 1930's. Along with Woodie these simple lessons whetted my appetite to study the deep mysteries of radio and later to consider going to radio school As Ruth studied the lessons with Woodie, by the time he graduated, she too had a good working knowledge of radio servicing. There was a parallel here as later when I was going to Coyne, Helen typed my class notes for my master workbook. So by doing so she too gained a general working knowledge of radio.
The Rushes had a house full of girls. "I lost count." I think I got my first insight about girls by associating with the Rush girls while growing up.
Reflections
Here I end all of the descriptive numbered details of Lincoln. Reflecting back upon my youth in this rural community, one of the things that stands out in my memory, is that like all small communities we knew every person in the area for some miles around. It was like one huge family made up of all possible personalities and classes, wealthy, middle, poor and dirt poor, good, bad, and trash, we knew all of them, warts and all.
Remembrances
I remember the crash of '29. I was 8 years old. We had no money to lose. Helen's grandmother Braden did lose her savings in a Fayetteville Bank. She was always understandably bitter at old man Eslick in the bank and Hoover who was the"do nothing President," who fiddled while the country sank into the depths of despair. Two wheel Hoover cards drawn by starving horses is a picture engraved in my mind when I think of the depression. Not a pleasant memory.
I also remember during the great depression (nothing great about it), the unfortunates came by just about every day, with overcoats on, even in summer, all their possessions on their back, a lost, desperate, but apologetic look on their face as they politely knocked on our back, never front, door. I remember mother never said no, never turning one away without a dipper of cool water, a glass of buttermilk, a piece of cornbread, a sweet potato that she daily baked and kept in the oven of the old wood stove, for us and the unfortunates who passed our way. Most of them were not tramps or beggars but were good American who had been abandoned by an administration that even then held to the time worn trickle down theory. History repeats its self, doesn't it?
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| Blanche Marsh at the House in Lincoln |
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| R. A. Marsh at the House in Lincoln |
I remember the old rickety peddling truck with the coal oil tank on the back and the chicken coops on the top that came down the dusty road twice a week. I remember buying coal oil for our two lamps and flour and sugar for thickening gravy and the tea cakes, or molasses cookies, this in exchange for a chicken or two from our flock.
I remember my 9th birthday in 1930, when mother caught one of our chickens (chickens were our only cash crop) exchanged it for a box of animal crackers and a box of Cracker Jacks with a frog snapper inside as a prize. My birthday present, I understood.
I remember when a dozen eggs brought six cents and remember when dad and I cut and hauled wood for a dollar a rick, a gallon of gasoline cost eleven cents, when a shiny new Chevy cost $533.00.
I remember when Christmas by necessity was two oranges, two apples, a bag of sugar orange slices and best of all an aviator cap with ear flaps and plastic goggles. I understood, as most of my friends were in the same boat. We had been in hard times so long that we youngsters began to think this was normal.
I remember dad and mother purchased a used 1928 Chevy in 1936 and none of us had ever driven a car. I remember teaching mother to drive, I was 15 and could not be licensed. I had never driven but I had known for years how to shift and clutch. After mother learned, we taught dad, but he never drove as much as mother. They purchased the car to go into the fruit tree and nursery selling business for Mr. Underwood and Will Flanders in McMinnville. Of course, I being 15 going on 16, was glad to get some wheels in the family.
I remember when in 1932, F. D. R. was elected overwhelmingly over Hoover who at that time was the most hated president in history. He was pragmatic, believed the the government had absolutely no place in extending help to the people in their time of need. Handle it, handle it, handle it, don't bother me.
I remember when F. D. R. was elected and when the New Deal with its massive jobs programs under the National Recover Act (NRA), that included a nation wide jobs program under the W. P. A. and C. C. C. - gave hope to a desperate nation. Looking back now those days seem so distant, yet sometimes so close, like yesterday.
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