Recollections: Rural Ohio, 1920 - 1940

NOVEM—BRRR

“Aren’t they cute?”  asked a young woman. She was holding up what they now call “Booties”—ankle-high laced black shoes.  I almost gagged!  Early in November , shoes very similar became a part of my daily garb, and would remain so until April.  I didn’t call them cute.  My grandma called them “fiddleboxes”, and I agreed with her.  My friend Rosie had patent ones, with fancy tan kid tops, but I was such a tomboy that dainty clothes were wasted on me!  The high-tops were only part of my armor against the Ohio winter.  It started with long johns.  They were cut high in the neck, and had long sleeves, as well as long legs.  Over those went long cotton stockings—black when I was six or seven, tan later.  We tried so hard to get the stockings over the underwear legs smoothly, but we usually ended up looking like the Michelin man.  A flannel slip, usually gray, and black sateen bloomers came next.  My dresses were navy or brown wool serge, cut down from old skirts of my aunts or grandma.  Mama brightened them up with colorful collars and cuffs.  Thus armed against the cold, I could sit in a drafty schoolhouse in comparative comfort.

November wasn’t a fun month.  There were no more fresh vegetables or flowers.  The baby farm animals were grown.  Almost nobody played football.  Recess was usually indoors, where we played guessing games or told riddles.

The only bright spots were apple picking and butchering.  My Dad liked November because rabbit hunting season began then.  Deer were quite rare in Ohio during my childhood.  Some men went to Pennsylvania to hunt them, but Dad couldn’t afford the trip.

Thanksgiving wasn’t all that exciting.  People did not travel much in bad weather unless they had to.  Our menus did not include the “Big Bird” I asked mama why we did not have turkey, and she explained that the Pilgrims ate what they had available, which was venison or turkey.  We would eat what we had, which was usually chicken or rabbit.  A roast stuffed rabbit was nice because it had four drumsticks!

No matter what we had to eat, we always had plenty.  Mama would give a meal to any unfortunate who came to the door.  During the depression there were all too many, hoping that a job might be waiting down the road.  Sometimes one would sleep in the haymow.

So as I lay in my warm bed and listened to the wind and rain of dreary November, I knew how lucky I was, and I said a little prayer for the lonely ones out on the long, dark road.