Hard Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression

“Elizabeth Wood”

Head of the Chicago Housing Authority in the late 1930s and early 1940s, Wood recalls her earliest experiences with social work. The field was becoming too psychiatric. A family only needed a decent home, and the 1937 United States Housing Act provided them. Public housing was a source of pride for tenants.

Things changed after the Second World War began, however, and “[t]here followed a descending pattern” as public housing “was no longer a step up” for struggling families and instead became “a place where you were investigated,” as if the mere fact of your residence in the projects signified a lack of character (386).

“Mick Shufro”

Assistant Director of the Chicago Housing Authority in the late 1930s and early 1940s, Shufro recalls that the tenants who needed public-housing relief resented case workers’ invasive questions about the tenants’ personal lives. He notes that during the Depression, “when we said relief, we meant relief,” and he contrasts this with the situation in the late 1960s, when “there are people society does not accept as workmen” (387).

“Elsa Ponselle”

Principal of a large Chicago elementary school in the 1960s, Ponselle recalls her experiences as a young teacher in the early 1930s. The city went broke and stopped paying the teachers in June 1931. Ponselle remembers marching with her fellow teachers. Things were so bad in the 1930s that many people of her generation never even had the chance to marry.

By the 1960s, however, material conditions had improved, which is why poor students feel more bitterness about the world around them. She remembers with fondness both the end of Prohibition and the Roosevelts, especially First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt.

“Sergeant Vincent Murray”

A Chicago police officer since 1935, Murray recalls that few of his colleagues owned vehicles, so most took streetcars to work. He remembers tracking down a con man named Parsons, who posed as an employment agent and then stole money from his victims. He extols the virtues of the CIO and claims that the AFL “did nothing for the laborer, nothing” (392). He believes that another Depression could start a revolution.

“Earl B. Dickerson”

A member of the Chicago City Council from 1939 to 1941, a former president of the Chicago Urban League, and now president of a life insurance company that primarily serves the city’s Black community, Dickerson recalls the despair on the faces of Black people who had no means to support themselves or even to pay the transportation costs involved in looking for work. He remembers Mayor Kelly dominating the City Council meetings and caring nothing about the plight of people in the ghettos. Dickerson expresses “regret” over his political experience in Chicago and wishes he could have achieved more for the people who were suffering (394). 

“Dr. Martin Bickham”

In the mid-1920s, Bickham worked for a private relief agency and conducted a study of unemployed handicapped workers. He “saw the Depression coming” when he noticed an increase in the numbers of such workers in search of relief (395). Bickham credits the WPA with getting these men jobs because wages are far more valuable to workers than mere charity. He laments the fact that Black workers were the first to lose their jobs and homes, and he insisted even in the 1930s that the only way to quell discontent in the Black community was to ensure that people had jobs.

“Mrs. Willye Jeffries”

In the 1930s, Willye served as secretary and treasurer of the Workers Alliance, an organization that fought for a variety of causes on behalf of the downtrodden. She recalls protesting for relief, fighting evictions, and many times being arrested because landlords paid off the police. She also recalls winning a case in court after a police officer busted down her door. When fellow tenants were evicted, the Workers Alliance would guard their possessions and then, after the bailiffs left the premises, put the people back into the building. In 1936, when the Black vote shifted overwhelmingly Democrat, she “carried every vote in her building for Roosevelt” (402).  

“Harry Hartman”

A Chicago bailiff since 1931, Hartman recalls taking part in frequent repossessions, particularly of radios and cars on which people could no longer make payments. He describes it as “a pretty rough deal” but claims that bailiffs tried to leave behind whatever they could (404). In their despair and humiliation, many people became emotional, though only a few became violent. Most were simply numb. The poor seemed to take it in stride, but people who had once been well-off were more likely to fall apart when the bailiffs arrived.

Hartman does not believe that evictions and repossessions on the Depression-era scale could occur again because people in the 1960s are less passive and have less respect for law enforcement.

“Max R. Naiman”

A 65-year-old lawyer, in 1932 Naiman joined the International Labor Defense organization (ILD), which “would defend anyone engaged in a struggle,” including evicted tenants, people denied relief, and victims of police brutality (409). He recalls the Unemployed Councils that moved evicted tenants’ belongings back into their buildings.

When he represented poor people who had been arrested, he always insisted on a jury trial because he knew the judges were corrupt. Naiman describes a physical altercation with a particularly nasty director of relief. Naiman also remembers incidents of police brutality, including one that required him to file a writ of habeas corpus for the release of five people wrongfully detained. He received no pay for his ILD work and often had as little money as his clients.

“Judge Samuel A. Heller”

A retired judge, Heller describes incidents in the police courts during the 1930s, when he witnessed physical brutality and other forms of police misconduct. Many fellow judges also abused the poor while at the same time groveling to attorneys from big law firms.

In the Landlord and Tenants Court, Heller developed a reputation for leniency in favor of people threatened with eviction, who were often terrified. He recalls “a group of real estate men” who tried to intimidate him and then, when he refused to cave to their demands, spent a good deal of money to defeat him in his bid for re-election (413). Property owners had resources and long memories, but the poor had nothing besides strength in numbers, and even this gave them no chance unless they were organized.

“A Young Man from Detroit and Two Girl Companions”

The young man, 24, does bank collections. He thinks another Depression might reduce “racial” tensions because everyone would be too poor to look down on someone else, though he also thinks people who are accustomed to affluence would suffer breakdowns. In his own work, he does not like “when a nice guy—we have to garnish his wages,” but the young man sees his collections work as “just doing a job” (415).

The first girl, 20, explains that the Depression has no meaning to her, though she would hate to experience such a thing, but she has only modest sympathy for people on welfare, whom she believes are capable of working. The second girl, 19, remembers that when she was in elementary school in Jacksonville, Florida, she experienced a false-alarm that a nuclear attack was imminent, and it was chaos among the adults as no one tried to help anyone else. She believes this free-for-all would happen again if there were another Depression.

“Eileen Barth”

A college graduate who began her social-work career in 1933 at the age of 21, Barth recalls that her education gave her no help because in school they “were still studying about immigrant families. Not about mass unemployment” (419). She remembers feeling guilty even about her meager salary. She also felt terrified after learning that one depressed young man had killed his case worker and three others as part of a murder-suicide.

Finally, she describes one older man’s mortification when she investigated his closet, as she was required to do, to see if he needed the clothing he requested for his family: “I could see he was very proud. He was so deeply humiliated. And I was, too” (420). This memory brings her to tears.

“Ward James”

James, 73, lost his job with a publishing house in 1935. After going on relief, he lost interest in living. The Illinois Writers Project saved him. After many months of idleness, he had lost his self-confidence, but the Project got him back on his feet and gave him work as an editor. He remembers that so many people feared a revolution.

“Ben Isaacs”

A clothing salesman when the Depression began, Isaacs recalls that sales declined as early as 1928 and then plummeted after the Crash. He lost his investments, struggled to find work, and considered death by suicide. After he went on relief, his family had to survive on $15 per month after rent and even went without running water for two months.

When the Second World War began and things improved, Isaacs went back into his old clothing business, and by 1944 he had recovered. For him, the Depression and all of its accompanying shame lasted sixteen years.

“Howard Worthington”

A bond trader who dealt in foreign securities, Worthington took a job with the county welfare office after his trading house failed. In front of her friends, Worthington’s status-conscious wife always made sure to refer to her husband as Director of Occupational Assistance and Self Help even though the title carried no weight.

Worthington also tried selling gadgets and hand cleaners. He drank, which his mother-in-law considered a weakness. He credits (and defers to) his wife, who managed an apartment building. Worthington laments his own perceived inadequacies: “Oh I tell you…If I only had the guts and knowledge I could have done so much better” (428).

“Stanley Kell”

Kell, 42, heads an organization that opposes integration of his white, middle-class, Chicago neighborhood. He remembers his father going broke and losing his business during the Depression. His father also organized a group of depositors who lost their money when banks failed, which, according to Kell, is probably why he himself devotes time to neighborhood organization.

He laments the breakdown of law and order in the modern world. He also believes that hardworking people need not yield to newcomers, for “if you come rough into Chicago,” then you “don’t start in equal with me. You go on the bottom rung and start climbing up. The Negro has got to learn” (433). Kell predicts civil war if another Depression occurs, and he bemoans modern materialism. He closes the interview by admitting conflicted feelings on integration and often saying things against it in public that he does not believe. 

“Horace Cayton”

A sociologist and grandson of Hiram Revels, the first Black senator in US history, Cayton recalls arriving in Chicago in the early 1930s and for the first time seeing poor Black people marching in silence on their way to restore an evicted tenant. Cayton notes that these particular Black protesters were Communists, but that in general the Communists did not fare well among Black people, whose communities still revolved around their churches.

In the Depression, Black people still had hope. This hopefulness, coupled with the WPA, explains why they gravitated toward President Roosevelt in the 1936 election. In the 1960s, however, “[t]hat hope is gone. It’s crystal hard now. It’s hatred and disillusion” (437).

“W.L. Gleason”

Gleason, 80, lives alone and keeps a daily diary of “happenings just for the hell of it, to keep boredom from my door” (438). Day and night, Gleason thinks about the past, and when he does he always dwells on a single incident. His oldest son got a job doing difficult lawn work, and when the job was finished the wealthy woman who hired him refused to pay him because she said he neglected to trim the trees. Gleason wonders why, of all his Depression-era memories, this one bothers him the most.

“Harry Norgard”

Norgard lost his job in 1933 but began freelancing and came through the Depression in good shape. He believes that some people simply suffered from bad luck but that many others had overextended themselves during the 1920s and thus had no one else to blame. He notes that the Depression worked to the advantage of people whose wealth lay somewhere other than in paper values. He blames Roosevelt for “selling the country down the river to the big unions” (440) and dismisses the WPA as “men leaning on shovels” (441).

“General Robert E. Wood”

Wood, 89, recalls his time as Quartermaster General of the US Army, when Douglas MacArthur was his friend. In the 1920s, Wood went into business as a vice-president at Sears, Roebuck, and Company, where he “founded All-State Insurance,” which “started out pretty slow” but “never lost money” even in the Depression’s worst years (442). Wood voted for Roosevelt in 1932 but later lost faith in the president.

Wood recalls that the company experienced no labor troubles but had to lay off many workers, at least until 1936, when things started to improve. Wood does not believe the Second World War ended the Depression, nor does he think the US should have entered the war.

“A.A. Fraser”

A board member for a lumber company with sawmills in three different Southern states, Fraser explains that his company made a fortune by virtue of “cheap wages. A dollar a day. Mostly Negroes” (444). Fraser admits that the workers suffered when the company was sold, but then, without skipping a beat, he reveals that for him, personally, the experience led to board seats with multiple companies.

“Tom Sutton”

A Chicago lawyer who heads “an organization of white property owners,” Sutton believes that the Depression made its survivors both conscious of wealth and secretive about how much money they have. He does not blame Hoover for the Depression, and he fears that focusing too much blame on the government creates opportunities for demagogues, though he does not believe that the country is fundamentally revolutionary.

Sutton recalls that his father was a liberal Democrat who voted for Roosevelt but also supported Father Coughlin. Sutton himself held the same views, but once he began working he grew to despise the income tax, and now he blames the New Deal for many of society’s problems.

“Emma Tiller”

In the 1930s, Tiller learned on her own how to cook, and she became such a good cook that “[r]ich people could afford [her]” (447). She spends most of her interview describing an incident that occurred in 1937, when a wealthy white woman hired her to prepare an outdoor meal for 40 people. The woman placed unreasonable demands on Tiller and then pretended to be asleep when Tiller sought her out at the end of the week to receive pay. So Tiller decided to put this “nasty” woman “into a real doozy” by not showing up for the planned lunch (448). The spurned wealthy woman called Tiller’s landlady, another white woman, who chastised Tiller for skipping out on the job even though it was none of the landlady’s business. Tiller recalls this incident as the kind of moment many Black people cherish when they finally achieve independence.  

“W. Clement Stone”

The “ebullient president” of the Combined Insurance Company, Stone fills his company’s hallways with “inspirational messages” (450). He recalls his successes during the Depression and attributes them to a positive attitude. He instructs Terkel in the art of making a sale. Stone repeatedly refers to himself as a “student of the human mind” who thrived due to “PMA, a positive mental attitude” (453). 

“Ray Wax”

A middle-class stockbroker who lives in the suburbs of New York City, Wax shares his Depression-era experiences. Wax’s entire manner and disposition strike Terkel as worthy of description: “Though his words come easily, he feels he has little of worth to recount. He is restless, a fever possesses him…” (454).

Wax’s father had a million dollars in 1928, lost it all on the market and gambling, then gave his son five dollars and told him to take care of the house. Twenty years old and now on his own, Wax had no idea how to live. He recalls really believing in the Horatio Alger stories of working hard and being rewarded for it. He got a job selling flowers on street corners. The men who ran the store, Everybody’s Florist, berated him for not bringing in enough money. Homosexual men tried to fondle him while he was working. Other salesmen threatened him with violence if he refused to steal as they did.

The flower store owners kept alcohol and prostitutes in the basement. Wax never went into the basement, but he often found a pimp under the Brooklyn bridge and did what he thought he had to do to preserve his mental health. In Baltimore, he became romantically involved with a schoolteacher but fled for “fear of responsibility for another person,” explaining that, thanks to the Depression, “[y]ou backed off when someone got close” (458). Things began to improve around 1937, but Wax no longer believes in Horatio Alger.

“Reed, The Raft”

Reed, 19, and his friend Chester made plans for a Mark Twain–inspired rafting trip down the Mississippi River. When they told Reed’s father about it, he expressed disapproval, began to tear up, and started talking about the Depression. Reed could not understand it because he had seldom heard his father discuss the Depression, had never seen him so emotional, and suddenly got the impression that his father cared a great deal about status, as if a rafting trip down the Mississippi was not good enough and Reed should be making plans to visit Europe instead. Reed’s father’s reaction struck both young men as disproportionate. Reed observes that “[i]t wasn’t as if it was a memory, but an open wound” (460).

“Virginia Durr, A Touch of Rue”

Durr, who lives with her husband near Montgomery, Alabama, worked for the Federal Communication Commission under President Roosevelt. She recalls the horrible suffering of the Depression and marvels at the fact that people blamed themselves rather than the system.

Durr’s mother suffered a mental breakdown and went into a sanitorium. Durr grew up in comfortable circumstances but then “saw the world as it really was” (461). She believes that the young white kids of the 1960s are only “play-acting in courting poverty” and that this explains the “gap between the black militants and the young white radicals,” for the Black militants do not have to imagine deprivation; they feel it (462). Durr concludes that the Depression made the vast majority of its survivors exceedingly conscious of money, while only a comparative few wanted to change the system altogether, though she concedes that no one quite knows what kind of system to erect in its place.