Emily, Ian, Max & Evelyn: October 2024

For posterity, an interview with my grandmother, Frances Cox, for a school project.

Emily Rosencranz

The Depression

“Oh, the Depression? I was only five at the start of it, you know, but I bet I could help you out. I remember it now, we lived in a little town with barely anyone in it. All of our money came from the packing plant, where men like my daddy made orange crates for the citrus industry, which never died because the relief programs would buy oranges cheaply for many people.

Now, Daddy wasn’t always a crate maker, no ma’am. He was a brakeman for the Atlantic Coastline Railroad, but when I was about five, he was fired—we called it “rolled” in those days, and we moved to Irvine, Florida.

No, honey, we weren’t poor, at least not that we knew. We were all in the same boat, so it seemed like we were doing just fine. As kids, we played games that didn’t require us to buy anything—you know what I mean—kick the can, playing catch, or helping out at home. Even the adults had a good time. On the Fourth of July, we'd go to the park in the center of town, where everyone would bring a basket full of food, and set it on the big table in the center of the park. Everyone brought something, even if they could only bring something small, but everyone went home full. For that one day, everyone talked and relaxed together. The boys set off fireworks at one end of the park, and the little girls got twirlers and noisemakers to play with during the patriotic speeches.

Of course we there were differences between the Depression and earlier times, but I was so young that I hardly noticed. For Christmas one year, I got a stocking filled with nuts and fruits, and a beautiful baby doll. The next year, I got a stocking with nuts and fruit and a new baby carriage to push my doll from the year before in. That was it, but it was more than I expected. You see, back then we were grateful for the little things. One thing I never understood about my children was their constant need for more clothes. We had seven dresses and two pairs of shoes each, and we wore them until they were held together by little more than a thread.

Our Standard of Living? It was pretty low, but we scraped by. Everyone was equal, except for one family, the Edwards. They had more money than anyone, and they would lord it over everyone else. Their Daddy owned the factory, and they bought new clothes and cars, when everyone else had one car used specifically for going on errands, not for running out to the neighbors. My whole family and most of the town hated them, and to this day I get angry just thinking about them.

One of my favorite memories is of my mother’s parents’ house. They had a two story white house with orange trees all around it. Grandpa Collins had fixed a pole with a hook on it, which we would use to pull down fresh oranges. If oranges were not in season, he’d drive us into town, and at the orange factory we would gather baskets of culls, which were oranges with green spots that they had no use for because the concept of frozen orange juice in a can had not come out yet. A whole basket of oranges was a big treat for us, and my brothers and sisters and I were thrilled by the chance to have such a treat.

You asked earlier about relief—said that book you read made it sound fairly common. Well, my town was too small to have a permanent program like that, but we had some times when you could apply for surplus items from the town council, but it wasn’t really like welfare, it was more of a little help during the really hard months. That wasn’t really a shameful thing, it was just a way of life at that time.

That book, what’s it called?--The Grapes Of Wrath makes it look as if we were all forced to move. Over our family’s one radio, we heard stories about the Dust Bowl, but it wasn’t really like everyone was leaving, in fact, we were the only people in or town that were forced to move, and even that was more of a choice than a necessity.

Oh, your mom told you we had to hunt for our food, did she? Yes, Daddy and my brothers hunted, but not more than they would have normally. At that time in Northern Florida, it was common to hunt. In fact, people throughout the town considered the surrounding area a big hunting ground. She told you we ate squirrel, too, did she? Well, we did, but they weren’t the kind you think of. They were giant squirrels, and we also ate duck, rabbit, and fish. But that wasn’t because of the Depression, that was just what we did at that time. The most memorable thing about our food was the biscuits my mother would make us every morning. She would get out a big bowl and put the correct amounts of everything in it, and we would awake to the smell of fresh biscuits every day of the Depression. I think the reason that sticks out is that she never measured anything into the pot, and never even had a cookbook until my youngest sister, Claudette, was getting into her teens.

At the end of the Depression, a man named Franklin Roosevelt got elected, and he put in a set of programs called the New Deal. Everyone gives that credit for getting us out of the Depression, but I wasn’t really affected by it. There were lots of signs and debates about it—it was kind of exciting for a young girl, but I don’t think anyone I knew was given a government job.

When your momma was little, our family took a trip to Florida, and we drove past Irvine. It was mostly gone, with just a few older people and a sign on the highway advertising a local gift shop. Today, that land is probably worth a fortune because Orlando and Disneyland are not far from there, but to me, it’s the home of some children of long ago who grew up playing in the roads and park during a time called the Depression, which we barely noticed because we were so busy being young. I never talked about the Depression with my husband, we just accepted the fact that we were better off before the Depression, but that life goes on and we have to keep living it, not dwelling on the past. I think that’s one reason people of my generation worked so hard to make life better for our children.

Will that help you with the report, hon? I hope so. It was, for me, really just a time where we had a little less than before, but not to the point where we were poor. I hope this helps, dear.”

Frances Cox is my grandmother. Today, she lives in Knoxville Tennessee, with two of her three children and their families. She was five when the Depression started, and it has made her want to surround herself with pretty yet economical things, while trying to instill values about saving money in her children and grandchildren.