Winter, 1975

Rochester, Minnesota

The year was 1918. Mother died suddenly. I had three little children, one a sickly baby. Thirty harvest crews were needed to get the field work done, and I bad to feed all of them. The emotional and physical stress was becoming unbearable. Finally, one night, I turned to God and said, "If you're going to send me all these babies, take my mother, and give me all this work to do, then you're going to have to do the worrying for me." From then on, I never worried.

Putting my faith in God gave me the strength to endure many trials in my life. And I will endure this one. Knowing my death is near causes me to reflect on my life a lot these days. I think of my forty-nine grandchildren and wish there were time to spend with each of them. Over the years, many of them have asked me what it was like "back then" when I was a girl or when their parents were children. So, as I recall the events of my life, it is with my grandchildren in mind that I write this journal. I've lived through so much and maybe by sharing part of my story they will better understand how events of long ago shaped my values and beliefs, the choices I made, the way I lived my life.

It is amazing to think of all the changes and events I've seen and experienced since 1893, the year I was born. I'm sure it amuses the grandkids to know that their grandma was alive way back in the 1890s when Mark Twain was still alive, Ragtime music was born, Cleveland and McKinley were president, and when the Spanish-American War and the Sioux Indian massacre at Wounded Knee occurred. Most significant to thousands of Americans then was a massive depression brought on by the economic collapse of the railroad industry. I was too young to recall the impact of that (1890’s) depression on my family. But I'm sure it did as my father worked for the railroad in my hometown of Blair, Nebraska, a small town near Omaha.

My parents were of Irish and German descent and they would impress upon me the importance of the Roman Catholic faith in our lives and of a cooperative family ethic so engrained in their ancestry. These things helped my brother Arthur and I get through difficult times when our little sister Irene died suddenly and when our brother Willie died in France during World War I. Later they would also greatly influence my role as a mother during the (1930’s) Depression as I struggled to keep my family together. Mother gave up her seamstress work after she married. Most married women did not work outside of the home back then in the late 1800s and early 1900s. This was when the home was considered to be the "woman's sphere,” her natural place to be. In other parts of the country, there were growing demonstrations by middle class women against this so-called Victorian age role for women and also for women's suffrage. As with everything else, these types of events were slow in impacting those of us in the Midwest.

I finished high school in 1910 and began teaching in a country school near Modale, Iowa in the fall of that same year. Shortly thereafter, I, like my mother, quit working when I married. I had known Patrick Tierney all my life. We grew up in the same town. My best friends were his cousins, Now we were married and before long we would face the most trying times of our lives.

Pat was a farmer, and farming would be our way of life until 1939, the year we lost our farm and everything on it to the Great Depression. For a short while, around the year 1918, farming was a prosperous business. These were the years of World War I, and American farmers were supplying a world market. Prices were high and for awhile we had reason to be optimistic. We bought an automobile and farm machinery. I learned bow to drive to get the children to and from St. Patrick's school in town. It was necessary even though women driving was somewhat taboo then. We even had a telephone until we lost it later on to the Great Depression. For the moment, farming was a stable way of life. Rainfall was regular, and drought and insect plagues were rare. Our corn, wheat, and oat crops were plentiful. I was secure in knowing that we could support our growing family. And grow it did. During the 1920s, I had five more children. My tenth child was born in 1934.

The grandkids probably question why I had so many babies, especially during such poor times. It's hard for them-to. understand it with today's sexual liberation and wide use of birth control. I guess this is what we could call a generation gap issue. Social morals and beliefs were different in the ‘20’s from those of today by they were also undergoing great debate during that time. Birth control means were being crusaded in the early 1900’s. A women named Margaret Sanger made the birth control issue her life’s work. By the 1920’s, the pessary (a forerunner of the diaphragm) was in wide use by young women who lived in the cities and chose the dingle life. But life was much different in rural mid-America. Birth control was never discussed. It was a private issue. I believe the main reason for having so many children was my belief in the teachings of the Catholic Church. Then, like today, the Church was very much against artificial means of birth control. This was my faith and  I chose to abide my that faith. I have never had any regrets. As it turned out, we had seven boys and three girls – John, Ann, Patricia, Edward, Harold, Robert, Richard, Patrick, Fred and Irene. Each one a joy. They would grow up in hard times and each one would pitch in and do their part to help out with the work. Our lifestyle was reminiscent of my and my husband’s immigrant ancestors who desired and needed a large family to survive.

I was 27 years old in 1920. It was a year of mixed emotions. I gave birth to our fourth child in September. The month before, the 19^th Amendment was ratified  which gave women the right to vote. That November, Pat and I drove into the Harrison County township where I voted in a presidential election for the first time. What an exciting experience that was! But this was also the beginning of a post-war recession which drastically affected our lives. Over the next year, we saw our farm prices drop by fifty percent and more. The government no longer needed our crops for the armed forces, and European farmers were able to produce enough crops for their own people. So we ended up with surplus crops that no one would buy. Our income dropped yet the cost of living stayed the same. A wagonload of oats would not pay for a pair of shoes. Two wagonloads had to be sold to buy the same amount of goods that one did before the war. We would get by on loans but only to go deeper in debt. For farmers, the Great Depression actually started in the mid-1920s. It wasn't until after the stock market crash in 1929 that the entire nation was affected as well.

Providing a home and security for growing children was difficult during these desperate years. We had no running water or electricity. I sewed all our clothes with my Singer treadle sewing machine. Material was not always affordable. There were times when I used flour sacks to make underwear with. Water had to be drawn from the well and then boiled on the wood stove for washing clothes. It wasn't easy getting the overalls and baby diapers clean with an old scrub board. We had an outhouse for a bathroom and used old Wards and Sears & Roebuck catalogs for toilet paper. Everyone had their chores to do. The girls helped with the housework, taking care of the babies, making soap, canning vegetables, smoking meat, and so on. The boys helped with the field work and milking cows. We were still using horses and mules and plows in those lays to farm with. Each day started early, around 4:00 a.m. I remember in the winter time how the boys would wait until Pat started up the old wood stove and then they would scurry down to be near the warmth while they dressed.

Yes, the days were full of endless work for all of us. So it was important for me to make sure the children were given opportunities to enjoy life whenever possible. We went to 4th of July parades and square dances at neighbor’s homes and county fairs. We bought a radio with headsets around 1926 and had to use the car battery to get it going. The sound was a little scratchy but we could hear news reports, music, comedy shows, and baseball games. The radio allowed us not to feel so isolated from the rest of the country. I remember taking the older girls to see a silent movie a couple of times. In the 20’s, movies were becoming big business and, like the radio, gave us a chance to see what life was like in other parts of society. That's probably where I got the idea to have my hair cut in a short "bob" style. Pat was so upset with me for doing that. He said it was unladylike. I thought it looked fine. He was probably worried I was on my way to turning into a "flapper", you know, the stereotypical young woman of the 20’s who was out for adventure with her bobbed hair, short skirt, rolled hose, and heavy makeup. Well, he needn't have worried. I had enough adventures at home! I guess I just needed a little self-expression.

By the time the 1930a rolled around, I felt the family was holding together pretty well considering the hard times we lived with. Sure, there were spats here and there with so many kids. Sometimes my patience was pushed to the limit. But for the most part, I tried to keep my emotions under control because I was well aware of the sacrifices these little people were being forced to make. As times worsened, I'd see the fear in their faces and do my best to reassure them to be patient, that things will look better in the morning. I also made sure we all attended Mass on every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation. If anything, I was determined that my children develop a faith in God to help them get through the difficult times now and in the future. Without God's help, we would never have survived the unforeseeable events of the 1930s. A time when everything seemed to join forces against us.

The Great Depression was on after the stock market crash of ‘29. The national economy was going under. To make matters worse, Mother Nature showed her cruel side in the 1930s that this nation bad never experienced before or since. And we were right in the middle of it. Beginning in 1931, the rains stopped coming. Temperatures stayed way above a hundred degrees summer after summer. It was so hot, so terribly hot. These droughts lasted the entire decade. With the heat came tremendous dust storms. At times, the skies looked like a black blizzard. The storms blew away all the top soil and as the land became harder and drier, the harvests became smaller and smaller. The dust was everywhere. Then the grasshoppers came. Billions of them. I'll never forget that buzzing sound as they swarmed over the land and chewed up the grass and crops. As dusk set in, the sky would be filled with even more dust that these pests kicked up as they flew off.

These were hopeless times for farmers. People were dying left and right from the heat, from dust pneumonia, from exhaustion. They were losing their homes, their lands, their livelihood. Morale kept spiraling downward, more so for the men than the women. I know it was harder on Pat than it was for me. He felt so terrible barely being able to provide enough food and clothing for the family to live on. After all, this was his role in life — the father, the breadwinner, the provider — and now be bad no control over the events that were changing his life. But the Depression years did not force any significant changes on my life. I Simply had to go on and do what I had always done — work hard and make sure my family was taken care of. That's what had to be done. There was just more to contend with now. And we would get through this — a  day at a time. 

By the mid-1930s, we pretty much realized we couldn't make farming our way of living for much longer. We were going broke. And we just had our tenth baby — another mouth to feed, another life to care for. President Roosevelt had numerous recovery programs in the works to help out farmers and working class people who were in the same bad situation as we were. It seemed like there was a lot of bickering going on between the government branches over these New Deal programs. By the time they were finally legalized, it was too late to be of any help to us. So, on a cold winter day in February of 1939, the farm sale was held. The low prices and the droughts bad finally taken their toll on us. We were completely broke and were forced to sell all the animals, all the machinery, everything.

Like many other poor farmers who left the land and migrated to the cities, we too took off — for Rochester, Minnesota. Our oldest daughter had become a nurse and worked at St. Mary's Hospital. She was able to rent a house and pay for it by renting out all the bedrooms to her friends. She took us all in and we slept wherever — the attic, the living room, the sun room. We had running water — both hot and cold — and electricity for the first time. Electric lights. Can you imagine that?! And we had a telephone again. Pat and the boys were able to find various jobs. My second oldest daughter married. At the age of 46 I was entering into a completely new lifestyle. It was all so new, so exciting.

I need to stop writing for awhile. This cancer can sometimes really take away my strength. But I hope when the grandkids read this someday, they will better understand why their parents may seem like penny pinchers, won't let them buy new things, or always talk about how tough their early years were. Well, the Depression had a profound effect on all of us and the times were indeed very tough. We learned it was possible to survive on literally nothing as long as we had our love, our health, our faith, and of course a good sense of humor to boost the spirits now and then.

When I'm feeling better, I'd like to write about the rest of my life since then. I had a lot more living to do. There was the painful and frightening moments of World War II...The joy of becoming a grandmother (over and over and over...)...And the excitement of television and riding on jet airplanes... Yes, I've seen so much. I've been around a long time. It's been a good life.

             Until later then,

                        Marie

To my knowledge Grandma never completed this journal as she passed away in the Spring of 1975.