Depression and War

“On ne règne sur les âmes que par le calme” (“One can reign over hearts only by keeping one's composure”). Clementine Churchill in letter to Winston, 27 June 1940

 Clementine Churrchill

At Gino’s Steakhouse in Merrillville, Joy Anderson gave an excellent summary of Sonia Purnell’s biography of Clementine Churchill, touching in particular on her unflagging support (and occasional sage advice) for husband Winston, wartime activities, and relationship with Eleanor Roosevelt, whom, unlike the Prime Minister, she greatly admired. Joy noted how, like FDR’s First Lady, she wasn’t the greatest of parents.  Depression seemed to run in the family.  One daughter committed suicide, another succumbed to alcoholism, and only son Randolph was a total mess.  When Joy mentioned their eight, largely unhappy, marriages, Jim Pratt noted the Roosevelt progeny’s 18. After Joy brought up daughter-in-law Pamela’s affairs with CBS newsman Edward R. Morrow and Lend-Lease czar Averell Harriman, I pointed out that, as documented in the chapter “Operation Seduction USA,” the entire Churchill family believed that, morality aside, it was absolutely vital to England’s survival to do everything necessary to bring America into the war. Joy then mentioned a 1941 visit by Roosevelt’s trusted adviser Harry Hopkins, and how at a banquet in his honor, Hopkins said: “I suppose you wish to know what I am going to say to President Roosevelt on my return. Well, I’m going to quote you one verse from that Book of Books … ‘Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.'” Then he added quietly: “Even to the end.”  Both Winston and Clemie (as intimates called Mrs. Churchill) broke out in tears. 

Joy passed out Clementine oranges to book club members; it being her birthday, husband Ken arranged for slices of chocolate cake to be distributed to everyone.  Classy.  I told Brian and Connie Barnes, seated to my right, that Toni’s middle name is Clementine.  Born in 1944, she was named for her dad, Anthony Clement Trojecki.  He was born in 1916 (same year as Vic), and almost died after sneaking into a grain elevator and diving into the wheat.  He left home during the Great Depression and found work at a Maryland race track frequented by despicable FBI director J. Edgar Hoover.  In the army when Toni was born, he participated in the occupation of the Philippines.  One of the sweetest guys I ever met, Pop (as I called him) worked as a tool-and-die maker for the Tastykake Company. On my far left, Horace Mann grad Barbara Wisdom asked whether I was still teaching.  She is dating Rocky Fraire, an old friend from softball days and Porter Acres parties.  I last saw Rock (as he is now known) at a wedding reception for his brother John, who has written about Indiana Harbor women’s baseball during the 1940s.

 Rock Fraire and Barbara Wisdom in front of Hamilton house in Harlem

Having arrived at Gino’s early, I partook of the free Happy Hour bar food, four delicious spicy meatballs, which I washed down with a 7-dollar, 16-ounce IPA.  Sitting amidst a half-dozen strangers who appeared to be retirement-age businessmen or professionals (drinks were not cheap; it was definitely not a steelworker hangout), I was reminded of a story Mike Olszanski tells of a barroom scene in the ill-fated Sheraton Hotel in downtown Gary during an anti-nuke conference some four decades ago.  A group of burly union guys came in and ordered beers.  Told they cost several dollars each, a badass 250-pounder looked the bartender in the eye and said, “Today the price is a buck a beer.”  He got no argument.

Enjoying my pale ale and spicy meatballs, I listened to nearby commentary about 5 o’clock news items flashing on a distant muted TV.  “Black Panther” breaking box office records drew such jocular remarks as, “Has anyone here seen it?”  A weatherman’s prediction of possible flooding evoked anecdotes about past deluges, including the 2008 torrential downpour that closed IUN for two weeks, and the explanation that the ground was too frozen to absorb water.  Nobody seemed to notice Cub first baseman Anthony Rizzo giving an interview, no doubt about visiting his alma mater, Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida, where 17 people were gunned down with an assault rifle (the Cubbies will wear Stoneman Douglas caps during their first exhibition).  A clip came on of four Chicago fans directing taunts at African-American Washington Capitals winger Davante Smith-Pelly, in the penalty box for fighting with a Blackhawk.  They kept chanting, “Basketball, basketball, basketball” (as in, “Stick to basketball, black man”) until United Center officials ejected them.  A black eye for Chicago, I wondered, or an overblown case of over-zealous fans insulting an opponent, a common occurrence?  An AM 670 sports jock suggested that the unruly fans be banned for life.  Really?  It’s not as if they used the “n” word but the racial connotation was obvious.  I kept silent and left as the national news was about to come on.

 AP photo by Jeff Haynes

In bridge Dee Van Bebber and I finished in a tie for first even though we weren’t in top form.  As Dee, who turned 11 the year of Pearl Harbor, says, a little luck his always welcome.  I played a key hand against Chris Prohl and Barb Mort, the other first place finishers, in which I held 20 high card points, including a six-card Club suit and Diamond singleton.  I would have opened two Clubs except that Chris first pre-empted 2 Diamonds.  Had she not bid, we would have been in game, but, after Dee passed twice, I got the bid for 4 Clubs and made an overtrick.  We ended with a middle board, but I should have been bolder.  Dee just had four points, but that included the Diamond Ace, three Clubs, and five little Spades, one of which I made good by reaching the board with a Club after trump split 2-2.

Barb Walczak’s Newsletter reported that Joe Chin and George Roeber scored an amazing 79.63% in a game at South Suburban.  What Joe most remembered was a hand he wished he’d played differently.  He told Walczak:

  George and I have partnered for quite a few years now, and Friday’s game was yet the highest peak of our quest.  This was THE hand that kept us from going over 80%: I held KJTxxx, xx, Qx, xxx.  I, as declarer, passed; LHO opened 1D; George preempted 4C; RHO responded 4H.  I chimed in with 4S; leftie called 5H; George doubled.  My opening lead would have made all the difference.  A spade lead would have given us the setting ruffed trick, plus A and K of trumps.  Naturally, I led a club – nothing doing. Thanks, George, for the excellent game.

Since Steve McShane’s class is studying early Gary, I read from the diary of pioneer builder Albert Anchors and from the memoirs of Harry Hall and Margaret Cook Seely – all of which are in the Archives (the Anchors diary is on microfilm).  Seeley’s “My Life in Gary – 1911-1956” covers the Great Depression and the World War II homefront. In college at the time of the 1929 Wall Street Crash, Margaret Cook was able to graduate and obtain a teaching job at Gary’s Jefferson School at Seventh and Jefferson. In the depression summer of 1933 she accompanied a friend to New York City with just 25 dollars in her pocket.  Her father got her a Pennsylvania Railroad pass and by eating at inexpensive places and staying with friends and relatives, she made the money last despite she purchasing gloves and handkerchiefs at Lord and Taylor’s.  She wrote: “When I arrived home at the Pennsy station in Gary, I had 40 cents left in my purse.  I asked a cab driver if he would take me home for that and he did. What a trip I had for $25!”  

Pennsy Station, 5th and Chase in 1978

Margaret wrote:

  Depression did a lot of things to people.  One day a bum came to our back door about supper time asking for a handout. It was Helen’s father, Mr. Clark.  He was a bricklayer and had been out of work a long time.  He decided to see the country by riding the rails in box cars.  He often ate at hobo camps along the railroad tracks.  Wherever he landed, he’d look for some little job, just enough to eat.  He didn’t want to come into our house; he said he had too many little friends on him, but my mother insisted.  He had dinner with us.  He told about working in a butcher shop.  A colored man who worked with him wrapped a long string of link sausages around his waist and pulled his shirt over them.  He said, “I don’t see what you take.” 

In 1934, while teaching first grade at Froebel, Margaret fell in love with Clayton “Buck” Seeley, at 31 eight years her senior.  Buck worked at Inland Steel and played piano in a jazz band.  They married in 1939 and moved into a house he helped build just east of County Line Road and near the lake, a block away from where Toni and I lived a generation later.  When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, Margaret was pregnant.  Buck, in his late 30s, was just over draft age.  He got hired to recruit workers for National Tube Company, which began producing heavy artillery barrels, rocket tubes, and rocket launchers for the war effort.

In “The Gifted Generation” David Goldfield emphasized that wartime government spending paid huge peacetime dividends:

            The government had spent the United States into prosperity during World War II.  Defense industries, infrastructure projects such as roads, airports, and water and sewage systems poured billions into the pockets of workers and corporations.  In February 1946, experts expressed surprise that the physical conversion of war plants seemed to be going well and quickly, unemployment was far less than government economists had predicted, and income and retail sales had risen.  And consumers had cash.  High wages and full employment during the war had put money in the pockets of millions of Americans.  During the Christmas shopping season of 1946, Macy’s department store in New York City set all-time daily sales records.

Krsak family album

Samantha Krsak wrote about her grandmother, Joanne Krsak, the third of four girls, born on January 9, 1930 at St. Margaret’s Hospital in Hammond. 

It was cold the month Joanne was born so her mother would bundle her up and put her cradle by the radiator. There was no such thing as kindergarten so she started first grade at age five at All Saints School in Hammond.  Grandma Joanne remembers being taught by nuns and that some were very strict.  For a minor infraction, one made her sit on a “dunce chair” and wrote the word “baby” on the board over her head. From that point on, her nickname became “baby” at school.

            During summer months, Joanne practically lived at her aunt’s cottage in Miller Beach near Lake Michigan. When there were rip tides, her father tied a rope around her and her sisters connected to him so they could play in the water without drowning. Joanne remembers eating suppers in the basement many times because it was the coolest place to be in the house.   She grew up during the Great Depression and it was not uncommon for her mother to invite a stranger in for dinner. Her father was fortunate to keep his auditor job at U.S. Steel.

Attending Hammond High during World War II, Joanne recalled blackout drills to prepare for a possible enemy attack. No lights were to be on in the house, on the street, or at businesses. It was a very eerie feeling. Her father was block warden and made sure that all lights were out during the night.  From high school, Joanne went into nurse’s training. She stayed in a building next to the hospital and had a curfew of 10 p.m.  Malingerers were to be dismissed from the program unless they had a good reason for being out so late. After becoming a nurse, she spent a year in California before going to work at Mobil Oil Company. This is where she met my grandfather. He’d come into the nurse’s office all the time for various complaints that may or may not have been real. One day, he asked if she wanted to go to a dance, and from there they started to date. By 1952, my grandparents were married and living in Hammond, where they started a family of six kids and life went on from there.

 Joanne and Samantha Krsak

Young mother Mildred Clark was living in Hessville when World War II broke out.  Husband John worked for the Edward C. Minas hardware store.  He wanted her to stay home with their sons, so money was tight.  Interviewed by Tamara Asher, Mildred spoke of keeping chickens in the back yard for eggs and meat, making lye soap and root beer, and canning fruit picked from trees.  Asher wrote:

  Mildred’s two boys were always getting into mischief.  She recalled: “It was a full-time job just keeping up with those rascals.”  They went fishing and swimming in the Little Calumet River and ice skated on it in winter.  Sometimes Kennedy Avenue would freeze over, and the boys would skate on it.  In summer, they’d raid truck gardens for melons.  They actually enjoyed being chased because they would run into a pipe that ran just under water level in the river.  They’d cross the river using the pipe; the chaser wouldn’t know how they did it.

  One day Mildred was washing laundry when someone told her that kids had been killed on the Nickel Plate railroad tracks.  She ran to the station and was relieved that it was not her children but heartbroken because it was kids she knew.

  Entertainment was simple.  The family listened to “Burns and Allen,” “Amos and Andy,” “The Grand Old Opry,” soap operas, and kiddie programs.  They roller-skated at Morton’s school basement.  They went to the Parthenon movie theater and to Midway airport to see planes take off and land.  John took the kids camping and fishing on Broad Street.

  Mildred, John, and the boys spent D-Day at the Lutheran church praying for victory.  John’s brother Paul was in the first tank to cross the Sigfried Line.  The owner of Sitnick’s Grocery showed John an issue of the Hammond Times that dubbed Paul a hero. The article said that he had been shot in the thumb.  Mildred remembers Grandma Clark crying, “Oh, he’s going to be mentally retarded.” There were victory parades down Kennedy Avenue.  Those with loved ones marched with their pictures.  Paul eventually came home safe and sound, to Mildred’s relief.

 St. John Lutheran Church, photo by Samuel A. Love

Kym Mazelle receiving Gary Legends award, December 2017

On Instagram Samuel A. Love posted a photo of St. John Lutheran Church at Tenth and Taft in Tolleston, a stop on the Gary walking tour.  Gary’s oldest congregation, its baptismal records date back to 1863.  Kym Mazelle responded: “Wow!  This is where I went to pre-school (sang one of my first solo parts), Sunday School, Brownies, and Girl Scouts from 4 years old until I was 10 or 12.  Great memories, good foundation.”  Known in Great Britain as the “First Lady of House Music,” Kym (born Kymberly Grigsby) grew up in Tolleston and knew Michael Jackson’s mother Katherine.  She has recorded with Soul II Soul and scored the hit UK singles “Wait!” (1989, with Robert Howard) and “Love Me the Right Way” (1993, with Rapination).

Michael L. Krenn, Professor of History at Appalachia State 

I’ve started Michael L. Krenn’s history of American cultural diplomacy.  During the 1930s Franklin Roosevelt’s Good Neighbor policy to cultivate friendly relations in Latin America was motivated in large part by a desire to expand foreign trade. The purpose behind creating of the Office of War Information in 1942 was primarily strategic rather than economic and intended to reach both a domestic and foreign audience.