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The good old days I grew up on the farm during the Great Depression of the early 30s, but we didn’t know about it because we had no electricity, no newspaper or radio, only word of mouth. We grew about everything we ate except staples like sugar and coffee. We grew sugar cane and made molasses in a copper boiler. Watermelons usually brought enough money for a couple pairs of overalls and a pair of high-top shoes for school. With 12 children from 1920 to 1947, we stayed so busy that we didn’t have time to get into trouble except a fight with a brother when Mama wasn’t looking. We had some good times, too. We walked about four miles to church, and on Sunday afternoon a crowd of us young folks would gather at the old swimming hole in the Catawba River. Dad helped us and the neighbor’s boys build a 12-by-12 log cabin down near the river. We cut down a choice oak tree and split boards with a fro and wooden mall. My uncle, who operated a general store at Glen Alpine, gave us cardboard to line the inside. We cooked on a tin heater and washed the dishes in the river. A large can of pork and beans and a cake of Mama’s corn bread was good eating. Ten of us were born at home and all survived. Later, four of us six boys served in the military and my older brother gave his life for his country in WWII. When I reminisce about the good old days on the farm, I pause to thank the Lord that I lived back there. Roy E. White |
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