My mother and father were born in 1923 and 1926 respectively.  They were fairly young when the Great Depression of 1929 hit their world and changed the course of many events to come.

My father, most of all, remembered the hardships his family endured and how it impacted his youth and teens.  A few of his stories are briefly shared here, along with a bit of early history of his life.

Unfortunately, there are no photos of my father when he was a young boy or early teen.  I once asked him for some pictures of him when he was little and he recalled there were very few or none in his possession.

Taken from an account of my father's life history, written by him after being diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor, in 1987, is the following rememberance of a great time of loss and instability in American life.

"I was born, Graydon Gast, in Bridgeman, Michigan, May 5, 1923, to Edna Mae Bassett and Frederick William Gast.  I was the youngest of three boys, my older brother Frederick and brother Garret before me.  On my mother's side we are descendents of seven original Mayflower Compact signers, including Miles Standish and John Alden."

"My father was a well respected man.  He owned the town bank and several other businesses which were doing very well until the Stock Market Crash of 1929."

"My father's businesses were hit very hard by the Depression, necessitating the closure of the bank and resulting in a move to Chicago.  We lived in a small apartment in the city and I rememer being harassed by the boys of the neighborhood during these difficult times.  As we had lost everything in the stock crash, and most all my father's money was tied up in real estate, we were completely broke and had to start all over again."

"A couple of years later, after unsuccessfully trying to make a go of it in Chicago, my family left Illinois and moved out west to Oregon."

It was during those years in Chicago, when my father was between the ages of 7  and 10 years old, that he recalls being so poor that his shoes were too small and completely worn out.  They couldn't afford to buy him new shoes or even have them resoled and instead, had to put cardboard inside his shoes over and over again, to extend the life of the shoes.  This left a very real impression on him, as he later brought this up numerous times during my childhood, to remind me how fortunate I was to have new shoes and a good life.  His stories of his childhood were sad for him, memories of his father being so depressed for years, working day and night, trying to provide for his family.

His story continues..."Later, we lived in a beautiful home 40 miles east of Portland, Oregon.  My parents ran a large hotel and restaurant, to get back on our feet again and to start a new life."

"In 1940, when I was 17, my dear mother passed away.  She had removed a bunion from her foot which became infected.  As a member of the Christian Science Church, she refused any medical attention.  I pleaded with her and my father to seek a doctor's help, but they refused.  Blood poisoning resulted, and she died soon after."

"At 17 years old, after graduating from high school, knowing we couldn't afford for me to attend college, I decided to join the Navy.  I served on an old, small naval ship in charge of a large gun.  Within the first year, the loud noise and repercussions destroyed the hearing in my right ear and landed me in the hospital.  Shortly thereafter, I was honorably discharged from the Navy and set out to make a life for myself, first working in a warehouse for a large Portland based company and later was promoted to sales and moved to Seattle."

My father's stories of how his family lost everything in the depression are still with me today.  His hard work ethic, learned from his father was passed down to me and to my siblings and my children.  Nothing as difficult as what he experienced in his childhood has every befallen me in my lifetime.  My appreciation for my father's frugality and wise financial advice and lessons he passed to me have benefited me greatly.  The depression taught him to save money, no matter what.  It was that "save for a rainy day mentality" that has played over and over again in my life.

With the recession at hand and a potential new depression staring us in the face, I am hunkering down in a financially conservative mode, recalling my father's life experience with poverty and knowing that my mother, who was, as she said, "dirt poor Irish," am digging in for a "long cold winter."