One of the more remarkable changes in the social and economic life of the nation over the last two centuries (1800's and 1900's) is the minimal role of child labor in the United States. Congress passed an amendment in 1924 (the year of my birth) but conservative groups feared that the Federal Gov. would have too much power in areas related to children so many states failed to ratify it.
The Great Depression changed political attitudes in the U.S. significantly , and child labor reform benefited. In 1938 the Fair Labor Standards Act placed limitations on child labor. However, that was not soon enough!
When I was about 11 or 12 years old we were still in the throes of the Great Depression, the NRA had not yet accomplished full recovery and money was very tight or nonexistent in my realm. We had a neighbor that ran a small dairy out of their home. The dairy was in the back part of the house. The dad had a milk route and the mom ran the dairy sales there at the house.
The Valley's had six children that were all just a year or so apart. Rosalie, the mother, was about 30 pounds over weight, she had red hair and she was a jovial, happy go lucky woman who most of the time looked like a slattern. She had no concept of organization or discipline. Everyone loved her and enjoyed her company but her house keeping skills were nonexistent. She decided she needed help so she appealed to my mother. She said she wanted help with the dishes after supper. I was the sacrificial lamb. Doesn't sound too daunting does it? BUT... (note the ellipsis)
The house was actually very large, especially the kitchen. The kitchen was huge and they had remodeled it to accommodate their large family. A door opened out of the back wall of the room into the dairy. The stove and counter space was on one side of the door and the sink and more counter space was on the other side of the door. The counter extended around the corner of the side wall for about six or eight feet. The cupboards above the counters contained the dishes etc.
Rosalie, good mother that she was, cooked oat meal for breakfast each morning, the pan that she cooked it in stayed on the stove for the rest of the day, the dishes that she served it in were placed on the counters along with the milk glasses and any thing else that was used. Lunch could be soup, sandwiches etc. and same deal, leave all the implements and serving dishes on the stove or counter, dinner... you get the point. By day's end dirty dishes, cutlery, pots and pans and garbage filled all of the 10 or 12 feet of counter space plus the stove surface and the sink.
My job, first ever job for money, was to wash all of the dishes, pots and pans, mop the floor, (had to be done on hands and knees) scour the sink, clean the stove, dry the dishes and put away in the cupboards, which I could not reach other than by chair or stool and if any dairy customers came I had to alert Rosalie, and some nights I had to babysit the kids while I was there. I was a scullery maid, at the age of 12. Sounds Dickensian, doesn't it? I started the job about 5:30 or 6:00 and finished around 8:00 or 8:30. My pay? One quarter a night! .25 measly cents!
One time the two older children, maybe eight or nine years old, went out into the dairy and got pounds of butter, butter came in one pound chunks, and had a competition to see which one of them could throw it up to the ceiling and make it stick! I must admit it was on my watch but I was busy scraping dried food off of pots and pans and doing my other odious tasks. When the parents came home they were a little mystified at the grease marks on the living room ceiling. Oh well.
One of the six children was named Gregg and he was my absolute favorite! Incidentally,he was not one of the butter throwers. I vowed at that time that I would name one of my children Gregg when I grew up. True to my plan, I did.
I saved all of my quarters until I had enough to go down town and pick out a skirt and blouse that had never been worn by anyone else! I had to go shopping with Mart, she was three years older than I. We walked down town. We shopped at Wren's and I still remember my outfit. The skirt was powder blue wool and the blouse was yellow silk. I paid for it all by myself!! Life was tough and we didn't even live in a river town.
Fortunately, we finally moved to the other end of town and my job ended. Thank God.
Rosalie was the person that said Mart was a true Irish Beauty but I was just cute. The nerve! Come to think of it maybe she was 40 pounds over weight!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Thanksgiving Memories
There is an article in today's paper about Thanksgiving dinners and the dynamics of the family get together. They even had a list of subjects to avoid, seating arrangements, a list of possible reactions to certain member's outbursts, suggestions for limited alcohol consumption all good advise. Rather interesting, that the writers felt a need for guide lines.
My memories of Thanksgiving go back a long way. During FDR's regime the date for Thanksgiving Day was changed to the fourth Thursday of November. It used to be a week earlier.
We always went to London, O for Thanksgiving because that's where all of our relatives lived. My grandparents lived back to back. Mother's parents lived on Fourth St. and Dad's lived on Fifth St. When I was very young we used to take the train to London and then walk from the depot to Grandma Morrissey"s house. We didn't have a car until I was in the 6th grade. Dad worked for the Big Four Railroad so we had free passes and used them almost every Sunday and on all holidays to travel to London.
Back in the day, it was not uncommon in big Irish families to have a few unmarried uncles and aunts. They were included in the family get together, of course. So at Grandma Morrissey's two of my mother's sisters Agnes and Catherine (who still lived at home) were present and my grandma's two brothers Uncle Ben and Uncle Tom, who lived on the family farm with another brother's family, were present. Our immediately family consisted of my mother, dad, Joseph, Martha, Paul and me. Grandma and Grandpa made twelve. My two brothers, my sister and I were the only grandchildren despite the fact that my grandparents had ten children.
My Great Uncle Ben raised turkeys on his portion of the farmland so he always provided the turkey for dinner. Great Uncle Tom provided the bourbon for the before dinner highball. We children did not partake of that ritual. Nor did we get to sit at the big table. We sat at a side table in the dining room so we were privy to all the conversations etc. but children were seen and not heard at that period in history. "Speak when you are spoken to." Okay.
The table was laden with turkey and all of the trimmings. Most of the vegetables were grown on the surrounding farms, the fruit for the jellies and jams, the pickles and relishes were all made by Grandma, the oysters were purchased from a store that had them in large crocks and measured them out by the quart or pint as you wished. The desserts were all home made and all delicious. The setting was very formal and the conversations were interesting and low key and there was a warm feeling of conviviality and love.
We spent a big portion of our time at my Grandma Charters' house too. My dad's unmarried sister,Mary Louise still lived at home and two of his brothers, Adrian and Coe were still unmarried and both had jobs that required them to travel. They were always home for the holidays though. Things were very different at that house. Grandma roasted a turkey, made dressing and side dishes and it was left on the stove and you could serve yourself. The oysters were not in a casserole they were raw, served with crackers and again you helped your self. Mary Louise was the baby of the six Charters children and Coe and Adrian were much younger than dad too. They were free spirits. There was a lot of laughter, teasing and fun along with a lot of disapproving looks from Grandma but the beat went on. Grandpa loved it, he sat back and watched all the activity. Dad joined in with his two fun loving brothers and of course we children were included in the high old times. Mother visited for awhile and then went back to be with her family. The bourbon was not limited to the before dinner highball. The convivality and love was there also, just presented at a different level.
I cherish the memories of both family celebrations and know the important lesson that I took away from my youth. Family is the most important aspect of life. We are all different and have different ideas and different personalities but bottom line is: WE ARE FAMILY. Be thankful!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING !!
My memories of Thanksgiving go back a long way. During FDR's regime the date for Thanksgiving Day was changed to the fourth Thursday of November. It used to be a week earlier.
We always went to London, O for Thanksgiving because that's where all of our relatives lived. My grandparents lived back to back. Mother's parents lived on Fourth St. and Dad's lived on Fifth St. When I was very young we used to take the train to London and then walk from the depot to Grandma Morrissey"s house. We didn't have a car until I was in the 6th grade. Dad worked for the Big Four Railroad so we had free passes and used them almost every Sunday and on all holidays to travel to London.
Back in the day, it was not uncommon in big Irish families to have a few unmarried uncles and aunts. They were included in the family get together, of course. So at Grandma Morrissey's two of my mother's sisters Agnes and Catherine (who still lived at home) were present and my grandma's two brothers Uncle Ben and Uncle Tom, who lived on the family farm with another brother's family, were present. Our immediately family consisted of my mother, dad, Joseph, Martha, Paul and me. Grandma and Grandpa made twelve. My two brothers, my sister and I were the only grandchildren despite the fact that my grandparents had ten children.
My Great Uncle Ben raised turkeys on his portion of the farmland so he always provided the turkey for dinner. Great Uncle Tom provided the bourbon for the before dinner highball. We children did not partake of that ritual. Nor did we get to sit at the big table. We sat at a side table in the dining room so we were privy to all the conversations etc. but children were seen and not heard at that period in history. "Speak when you are spoken to." Okay.
The table was laden with turkey and all of the trimmings. Most of the vegetables were grown on the surrounding farms, the fruit for the jellies and jams, the pickles and relishes were all made by Grandma, the oysters were purchased from a store that had them in large crocks and measured them out by the quart or pint as you wished. The desserts were all home made and all delicious. The setting was very formal and the conversations were interesting and low key and there was a warm feeling of conviviality and love.
We spent a big portion of our time at my Grandma Charters' house too. My dad's unmarried sister,Mary Louise still lived at home and two of his brothers, Adrian and Coe were still unmarried and both had jobs that required them to travel. They were always home for the holidays though. Things were very different at that house. Grandma roasted a turkey, made dressing and side dishes and it was left on the stove and you could serve yourself. The oysters were not in a casserole they were raw, served with crackers and again you helped your self. Mary Louise was the baby of the six Charters children and Coe and Adrian were much younger than dad too. They were free spirits. There was a lot of laughter, teasing and fun along with a lot of disapproving looks from Grandma but the beat went on. Grandpa loved it, he sat back and watched all the activity. Dad joined in with his two fun loving brothers and of course we children were included in the high old times. Mother visited for awhile and then went back to be with her family. The bourbon was not limited to the before dinner highball. The convivality and love was there also, just presented at a different level.
I cherish the memories of both family celebrations and know the important lesson that I took away from my youth. Family is the most important aspect of life. We are all different and have different ideas and different personalities but bottom line is: WE ARE FAMILY. Be thankful!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING !!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The Great Rip Off of the Indian Head Rock
Attorney General Jack Conway, in an effort to avoid escalating an ongoing dispute with an Ohio city regarding our rock, sent a letter last month to Portsmouth, Ohio city officials and two nefarious residents of Ohio seeking a settlement. AG Conway is trying to avoid a long drawn- out civil case in federal court.
It is theorized that possibly some prehistoric Indians were the original owners of this rock. It bears numerous carvings of initials, names and a crude face. I'm wondering about those initials. What script were they written (carved ) in ? Were they in Sanskrit? Arabic ?Hebrew? German or maybe Russian since the prehistoric Indians were said to have walked across Bering Strait when it was frozen and then stranded here, hence the first Indians. (Misnomer, as we all know.)
I'm a little leery about the initials.
Anyway, the 8-ton boulder, known as Indian Head Rock, was an attraction for tourists on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River but it has been submerged in the river for the last 90 years. Prior to its submersion it had been listed on Kentucky's official antiquities register. In 2007, the two above mentioned nefarious men removed it from the Ohio River, without going to federal court for a permit. The bolder now rests in a garage in Portsmouth, O. We want our rock back!
We also want a public apology and $90,000.00 for the attorney fees and to build the building we want to house the rock in! A letter has been sent to the historian who led the removal effort, to the City Solicitor,and one of the alleged divers, and as yet there has not been a response to these letters. The dead line for the response was last Wednesday but the day passed and no response.(Shows you what caliber of people we are dealing with). Shaffer and Vetter the two that removed said rock and are facing felony charges referred all questions to their lawyers who also did not respond. Portsmouth's mayor did not respond either.
A fiery speech was made on the House floor by a member of the Kentucky State Legislature and a resolution was passed calling for the rock's return. It is still a no show! State Rep. Reginald Meeks, said he is "very satisfied" with the proposed settlement of this problem. "These historic and ancient items we have in our state deserve to be protected, I believe it's appropriate that the rock have a final resting place on land that's near the site where it originally was removed from the river." Lots of luck getting the $90 thou,Reg.
Someone in Portsmouth is between a rock and a hard place!! I'll wait for the return of the rock! Watch for further developments.
It is theorized that possibly some prehistoric Indians were the original owners of this rock. It bears numerous carvings of initials, names and a crude face. I'm wondering about those initials. What script were they written (carved ) in ? Were they in Sanskrit? Arabic ?Hebrew? German or maybe Russian since the prehistoric Indians were said to have walked across Bering Strait when it was frozen and then stranded here, hence the first Indians. (Misnomer, as we all know.)
I'm a little leery about the initials.
Anyway, the 8-ton boulder, known as Indian Head Rock, was an attraction for tourists on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River but it has been submerged in the river for the last 90 years. Prior to its submersion it had been listed on Kentucky's official antiquities register. In 2007, the two above mentioned nefarious men removed it from the Ohio River, without going to federal court for a permit. The bolder now rests in a garage in Portsmouth, O. We want our rock back!
We also want a public apology and $90,000.00 for the attorney fees and to build the building we want to house the rock in! A letter has been sent to the historian who led the removal effort, to the City Solicitor,and one of the alleged divers, and as yet there has not been a response to these letters. The dead line for the response was last Wednesday but the day passed and no response.(Shows you what caliber of people we are dealing with). Shaffer and Vetter the two that removed said rock and are facing felony charges referred all questions to their lawyers who also did not respond. Portsmouth's mayor did not respond either.
A fiery speech was made on the House floor by a member of the Kentucky State Legislature and a resolution was passed calling for the rock's return. It is still a no show! State Rep. Reginald Meeks, said he is "very satisfied" with the proposed settlement of this problem. "These historic and ancient items we have in our state deserve to be protected, I believe it's appropriate that the rock have a final resting place on land that's near the site where it originally was removed from the river." Lots of luck getting the $90 thou,Reg.
Someone in Portsmouth is between a rock and a hard place!! I'll wait for the return of the rock! Watch for further developments.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Identity
I had a very pleasant afternoon last Saturday. Kristin called and said she and Rowan were coming over to visit. Saturday morning I had watched the video of Rowan being one of the Kerry dancers. He performed very well to the Irish tune playing in the background. He is a natural! I suddenly wished that I could see him again and get up close and personal with him. I really haven't had a chance to spend much 'quality' time with him. So when Kristin called to say they were coming, I was very pleased. Maureen was taking a nap because they had just spent time visiting Bernheim Forest and she was worn out. Rowan is portable when he is napping.
Anyway, he woke up when he got here and I held him and got the full benefit of his charm! He smiled, babbled, kicked and showed his dimples. He is getting so big and so social all of a sudden. Kristin said she looks at him once in awhile and says, "Who are you?" I had the same experience! He does not look at all familiar. He has light hair, beautiful blue eyes, but not Tim and Maureen blue and he is fair of face and full of grace. (Hence the dancing).
He is just Rowan! He has his own look, his own identity. If that doesn't change, he will grow up much as I did with the ever present question, "Who does he look like?" I heard that query all of my life. Why does society think we each one of us have to look like someone else. Why can't we just look like ourselves? Why can't we be individuals?
I had to tolerate a battery of questions growing up. Where did the red hair come from,? Where did the freckes come from? They would always remark about how short I am, as if my family had not noticed. They would tick off the physical characteristics of my immediate family that I failed to inherit. Hair color, complexion, height, disposition and so on. One of my cousins, one time, could not remember my name and by way of getting the others to know who he was speaking of, said,"You know, the short, funny looking one" (I tried to follow his career as closely as I could, because I felt sure he would end up in jail sooner or later.) Sad thing about that incident is that they immediatly knew who he was talking about! Oh, you mean Betty! They failed to recognize a diamond in the rough when they saw one!!.
Maureen is a tough act to follow, she has so much personality and is so socially adept but I think Rowan is going to be able to hold his own. I hope to see him more often. Ciao
Anyway, he woke up when he got here and I held him and got the full benefit of his charm! He smiled, babbled, kicked and showed his dimples. He is getting so big and so social all of a sudden. Kristin said she looks at him once in awhile and says, "Who are you?" I had the same experience! He does not look at all familiar. He has light hair, beautiful blue eyes, but not Tim and Maureen blue and he is fair of face and full of grace. (Hence the dancing).
He is just Rowan! He has his own look, his own identity. If that doesn't change, he will grow up much as I did with the ever present question, "Who does he look like?" I heard that query all of my life. Why does society think we each one of us have to look like someone else. Why can't we just look like ourselves? Why can't we be individuals?
I had to tolerate a battery of questions growing up. Where did the red hair come from,? Where did the freckes come from? They would always remark about how short I am, as if my family had not noticed. They would tick off the physical characteristics of my immediate family that I failed to inherit. Hair color, complexion, height, disposition and so on. One of my cousins, one time, could not remember my name and by way of getting the others to know who he was speaking of, said,"You know, the short, funny looking one" (I tried to follow his career as closely as I could, because I felt sure he would end up in jail sooner or later.) Sad thing about that incident is that they immediatly knew who he was talking about! Oh, you mean Betty! They failed to recognize a diamond in the rough when they saw one!!.
Maureen is a tough act to follow, she has so much personality and is so socially adept but I think Rowan is going to be able to hold his own. I hope to see him more often. Ciao
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)