Living History

The Great Depression of the 1930s Part A

If you have personal memories of the great depression of the 1930’s like me you are looking back to your young life 75 years ago. It is amazing that I have remembered so much. I hope I never forget it.

My Dad was only 24 when he became a World War I veteran. Twice decorated for bravery, he was wounded in France, his left arm amputated, shrapnel wounds ,and lungs seared by mustard gas he was classed medically unfit, discharged from the army and sent back to Australia. He was granted a small pension and went back home to the bush. He would have dearly loved to continue the family farming tradition but it was not to be.

My mother was a city girl. At the time Dad was welcomed home from the war she was the teacher at the one teacher school built by the locals. Girls were not always encouraged to study in those days. She obtained her qualifications against her father’s wishes. She had to ride her horse alone to the little bush school each day. That spirit was to stand her in good stead in later years.

She and Dad were married in 1920. They tried going back to Gippsland to live and work. My sister was born in 1921. After a couple of trips to a military hospital, my father’s health finally drove them back to Melbourne. I was born there in 1923.

A small inheritance gave them the chance to buy a block of land and build a home in the new Melbourne suburb of Box Hill and they looked forward to a good life. His physical condition made it hard to be employed but eventually he obtained a job as a lift driver. (There were a lot of one armed lift operators in those times) It should be remembered that there were many young Diggers in the same circumstances as my Dad, many with young families who were among the first to be hard hit and lose their job.

The economy of the country was in a downturn even before the great stock market crash and suddenly Dad lost his job as a lift driver (they put on a junior girl) and he joined the fast increasing ranks of the unemployed. With his army pension we were a bit better off than other people - but never eligible for any of the concessions available to the unemployed. Like a lot of men, Dad went rabbiting. He was away for long periods with his horse and wagon. He lived in the wagon. He worked on a contract - but he came back too ill to continue that lifestyle.

In those days married women were not allowed to continue as teachers in the Education department. In our electorate was a young politician on the way up, one R.G. Menzies, who made some effort ,and succeeded to get Mum back into teaching. She was forever after a fervent voter for him. The schools she went to was some miles from home. She had to take Alma and I with her, so Alma started school and I sat in an empty desk in Mum’s classroom. The tram trip home was tiring for small child. When Dad’s health improved he looked after us while Mum was at work. It was harsh for my parents but it meant there was a wage coming in. Dad did every thing, washing, cooking, chopping wood for the stove and copper [no gas or electricity as yet except for lighting] all with is one arm. The only thing he could not manage was to scrub his hand and arm. Alma or I did that every day and rolled his shirt sleeve up. Those times created a bond with our dad that lasted for ever.

While his physical strength made him slow down he still managed with an old shovel to dig out and plant a good vegetable garden and make a chook shed and yard. Alma and I collected the eggs and fed and watered the hens. There was also an aggressive rooster named Kaiser Bill. Our other mate was a brown curly coat retriever dog named Tip. Bathing and drying him took up a large amount of yard space and half a day by the time he let us comb all his coat into ringlet curls made round our fingers

Across the road from our houses was a large tract of paddocks, once an orchard. Here we managed to gather quinces, apples and apricots, blackberries [before they were declared noxious weeds] and mushrooms. There were fat yabbies in the creek, grazing cattle provided manure for the garden, we got rabbits from friends who crossed the paddock to what is now the suburb of Bulleen. Obviously we didn’t starve, we had meat a couple of times a week and roast chook for special occasions. Kaiser Bill didn’t make it to our dinner table, even though Dad often threatened him.

While we girls were eating and sleeping well in 1933 our life changed dramatically. Mum had to give up work and have major surgery. All the familiar things in life were still there but Mum and Dad knew that other expenses were making financial trouble. It was another year before their own big crash came, and the bank reclaimed our house. Eventually all the personal possessions were packed up and we moved to the inner city suburb of Albert Park where my grandparents lived. We lost our mate Tip - he went to live in the country - the yard at Albert Park was too small for him, The family left with no jobs or expectations but still with debts to pay, What I recall now is a bank balance of love and happiness of those years that I will never forget.

During my happy years at Box Hill at school I became aware of the miserable conditions of some of my classmates. In Victoria what is now known as 'The Dole' was called 'The Sustenance', soon shortened to 'Susso'. This word must have meant heartbreak for much of the district. Poverty, hidden at first was becoming obvious. A soup kitchen was started up at the school but pupils had to have a letter from a parent to prove they were on the 'Sustenance'. 'Susso' kids got 'Susso' soup, 'Susso' shirts and dresses, These were certainly warm and probably the only brand new garments they owned but made out of ugly material that identified them immediately. I have heard in later years people say that there was no disgrace in having to wear these garments or hand-me-downs, but I think of a little classmate of mine who had to wear her older brothers lace up boots. I remember her little white skinny legs in boots still a bit too big for her making it painful to walk and impossible to run.

Over a period of time some families became unable to cope with it all. In some families I knew Bread and Gravy was a regular meal, fruit and vegetables a luxury. Toiletries also were scarce. A bar of yellow soap was used for everything - personal bathing, laundry, and house cleaning. On some occasions a bus came and picked up children, took them to a local centre where they were put in a warm bath washed with carbolic soap, had their hair cropped washed and treated for lice, their sores painted with iodine. No doubt the treatment made them more comfortable but it must have been hurtful for the children and their parents.

I became aware of people who fostered children to get the family allowance. Some of those children whether white or aboriginal have bleak memories of that time.

Those are the sad things that I became aware of but all was not doom and gloom . Our church and Sunday school were a big part of my life. I loved singing the hymns and hearing the Bible stories. There was always the Sunday school picnic to the beach or the bush - sometimes in a horse drawn furniture removal van. Christmas and Easter being celebrated in the traditional way. Then there was the Gym class. Alma and I went to the Gym club, Mum played the piano for the club. We did physical exercises and song and dance routines. For our display concerts we had fancy costumes. Not for us today’s way of hiring theatrical dress. Ours were home made of crepe paper.

I remember one occasion we were dressed in costumes representing roses. My Dad carefully measured pink crepe paper on the dining table holding it down with the stump of his amputated arm while he measured it with a ruler and marked the width of the frills. Mum sewed the frills on to a slip made of inexpensive cotton. Two very pretty dresses were made with such patience and loving care. Dad said he never thought he would be a dressmaker. Now in my 80’s I see this scene so vividly. Two people still in their 30’s and two little kids doing something they had never done before. Mum played the piano for other Gym clubs to get the money for our classes and costumes. That is what parents did then. They had to be innovative and stretch themselves to survive.

At Box Hill on a Saturday night we had sometimes walked a mile or so down the road to have tea with friends and stay for the evening. The children played games or read books in the sleep-out. The adults sat around the huge kitchen table playing cards. Tea was usually fried eggs and bacon cooked on a big one fire stove, with toast made from the open fire. After tea we went in to the sitting room, my Mum played the piano, about ten other people grouped around and sang all the songs they loved, having little chats in between. Supper was served and we walked home up the road around midnight. Many people later told me how they enjoyed those sing-song evenings.

This story continues in Part B. Select the 'Next' story.

Janet, Sutherland, New South Wales

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