CASH
Cash was scarce in my hometown during the decade of the 1930's. My dad worked in the railroad shops when he wasn't laid off, and layoffs happened frequently, some lasting long periods. Those men who had jobs would do almost anything to keep them. As an example, my dad cut the end of his thumb off on a table saw in the mill. Since the bosses prided themselves on how many days had passed since the last accident, dad was afraid to report the injury. He put the severed piece in his pocket, went to the office and checked out, and instead of reporting to the railroad doctor and have it treated free, he went to another physician and paid for the treatment himself.
We really didn't need much cash. With our huge garden, milk cow, chickens, hogs and continual access to itinerant street vendors, we didn't need to buy many groceries. Sugar, flour, salt, coffee, and similar staples were bought at Lewis Grocery Store on 25th Street and Bill Andrews Grocery at the corner of 5th and the Avenue between and parallel to Pennsylvania and Virginia. Both stores extended us credit, with the balance owing running for years sometimes. When we had a payday, each store we owed would get $5 or $10 paid "on our bill."
My brothers and I often contested for the privilege of taking the money to the store, because the owners were invariably nice to us and had a custom imported from Louisiana called "lagniappe." While writing a receipt for the payment, the storekeeper would nod to the convenient row of candy jars in reach on the counter and say "Take one." All our creditors gave lagniappe, which means "a little something extra." I'm sure the merchants had very hard times the same as their customers, but to my recollection they were willing to sacrifice themselves in order to help people during hard times.
All boys went barefoot from March to October, even to school and church, so for us stairstep boys, the once-a-year Sears and Roebuck mail order from the catalog usually needed only two or three pairs of shoes. Our policy was "hand-me-downs" all the way, and being the middle child, I seldom got a new pair. This order always included a suit of long-handled underwear for each boy. They got laundered every Saturday, while we were being bathed in a No. 3 tub of warm water in the kitchen-the same water for all five of us---getting in one at a time. We also got overalls which were worn everywhere until high school, pants, and a few other necessities, even baby chicks. Yep, you guessed it; these things were charged, too. We had to order dressy longsleeved shirts only, because mama made a lot of our everyday shirts out of used flour sacks. The 100 pound size came in printed cotton cloth. Plastics hadn't yet been invented.
Maurice Wall operated a clothing store on Main Street, and we kept a charge account there for years. I bought my first suit there to wear to my 16 year old brother's, E.J.'s, funeral. It was mustard yellow because it was the only suit that fit me. Many times our balance would rise dangerously high, but he never cut off our credit, and I hope he was finally paid in full. He didn't give lagniappe, however, because his stock was not suitable gifts for small boys, but he gave me a man's flat straw hat once that had a small piece broken from the rim.
J.D. Frith Drug Store, at the corner of Main and Railroad Boulevard, was my personal favorite creditor for lagniappe. He would give me 3 or 4 pieces of candy, and sometimes he let me come to the back of the store and let me watch him mix medicine for capsules or tablets. Pharmacists had to make a lot of medicine to follow the doctor's prescriptions then, which were written in Latin. Many people used the druggist instead of the doctor to save the money for an office visit. Physicians charged $1 for an office visit, but there were more house calls than office visits. A house call cost $1.50 or $2.00, but the doctor would take a bushel of peas or some other produce when it was offered; he knew the parent didn't have money to pay him with.
We had no credit cards. We would have been shocked out of our wits if we had seen one. Kramertown Seed and Feed Store offered all types of farm supplies. They delivered, first by horse and wagon, later by truck. We kept a running bill there. We took our order on foot, walking the two miles there and back, because we had no telephone. Walking was our chief means of transportation.
We had a wooden ice box. The large square top half held a 50 lb. block of ice. It took about 3 days to melt, but since the iceman delivered every other day, we never ran out of ice. He drove a horse that pulled a covered wagon, on the back of which were 100 lb. blocks of ice wrapped in quilts. Some people bought 25 lb. blocks for 5 cents; some 50 lb for 15 cents and a few bought the 100 lb. for 18 cents. The iceman had to be big and strong. He had a leather apron over his back. On his first trip in, he asked the lady how much ice she wanted; then he would take his ice pick and chip the remaining ice into a shape that allowed the block to fit. Going back to the wagon, he chipped the correct-sized block loose, hooked it tightly with his tongs, swung it to his back, and took it in. The bottom half of the icebox had shelves and contained perishables. The melting ice ran down a rubber tube to a hole in the floor.
We had large round tin tokens to help in paying sales taxes. A Coca-Cola cost a nickel plus 1 token. If you had no token, you gave 6 cents and the clerk gave you 9 tokens in change. You couldn't buy anything with tokens only, but you had to have then to pay taxes on amounts as small as 5 cents. It was a mess and soon collapsed.
No comments:
Post a Comment