People rushed to their banks and took out as much of their savings as they could, which collapsed the banking system. The few businesses that could still afford to pay their employees paid for work days that were 10-12 hrs long with one 30 min lunch & and even those were starvation wages of 45 cents per hour according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Farmers hoped to afford to butcher a pig to add to the rows of garden produce, but more often than not the pig was sold to pay the rent!
These poetic words are from our Great Grandfather Hughes:
A
DRY-WOOD Farmer's Blues
I’m
just as sore as I can be,
And
think I’ll quit the farm by-gee,
For
twelve long months, I’ve worked like –well
I
haven’t raised a thing to sell.
I’ve
plowed amongst these Dry Wood rocks,
And
wore out twenty pairs of sox,
And
now I’m feedless, sockless too,
And
don’t know what the heck I’ll do.
Our
hogs wont pay for what they eat,
And
cows are selling mighty cheap,
And
all our hens that lay at all,
Are
those that starved to death last fall.
I
haven’t made a bloomin’ cent,
With
which to pay my pasture rent,
And
taxes are as high by-Joe,
As
what they were a year ago.
The
butterfat we used to sell,
Kept
up our table fairly well,
But
now we’re eating ‘margarine’,
Just
let ole Bossy keep her cream.
A
fellow cant afford to die,
‘the
homes are free beyond the sky,
But
what it costs to get one there,
Would
bust a multi-millionaire.
So
whats a fellow goin’ to do?
Just
sit around the house and stew,
Or
buckle in and do his best,
And
take a chance with all the rest.
I
guess I’ll take another chance,
While
“Hoover’s” wearing out his pants,
The
world may howl around my door,
But
“Hooverism” makes me sore.
---By
Dry Wood Dreamer.
