Stewardship, Sharing and Family

Today I have learned that we cannot be attached to the things of this world. Literally we are just stewards of the shelter and goods that God has provided us with. I spoke with an attorney today to assist me in some decisions regarding the sale of my Dad’s property. Speaking with an attorney helped me to decide how to best provide care for my dad in assisted living as well as have him qualify for Veteran’s Benefits. My Dad enlisted in the Navy at the end of his junior year in high school. He was in the Navy during World War II and was honorably discharged when the war was over. Over the course of his 84 years he never asked for any benefits from the VA. No healthcare, pension or assistance. I am told that this is typical behavior of men of that generation. Many of these men grew up in the Depression and were too proud to take any assistance from the government. Assistance programs in those days were to benefit those who were really down and out. Most Americans just pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and carried on.  Many people had their own gardens to supply themselves with food. My grandparents raised their own chickens and pigs as well. They took in boarders for money. My grandmother a Hungarian immigrant in the early 1900’s, cooked, cleaned and did the wash for these men who worked in the cement factories - many who were immigrants themselves. My grandfather also a Hungarian immigrant was a carpenter in the cement plant. The men would tell stories around the table after dinner, play the zither or mouth harp and maybe engage in a little drinking of home-made beverages. Their lives were not complicated but were full of manual labor, stories and relationships with each other as they worked together. They were not rich, but were happy with what they had. Meals consisted of broth based soup with home-made noodles to start, some form of meat and a vegetable. Many things were cooked with lard or sour cream. There were home-made potato biscuits and baked goods. My grandmother would bake a cherry pie in a rectangular pan and place it in the window to cool. Many of the townspeople would walk by the window and stop to smell the pie’s goodness on their way to the river. My Mom lived in a house built into the bank of the Delaware River in New Jersey. The small town she grew up in was Brainerds, NJ. It was a melting pot of the Italians, Dutch, Hungarians, and African Americans. My grandfather would rake the sandy beach outside their door for the townspeople to come down for a swim in the summer. This sand floated to their home from up across the PA side of the river called Riverwood Beach. It was a gathering spot for the town as the boys and girls would jump off a rope swing or train trestle into the river. More on Brainerds, NJ later!

 At age 15 my mother was hired out as a domestic servant to a wealthy family in the East Stroudsburg area. Mr. and Mrs. Earnest Hoag were importers and exporters of fine goods from China. They lived on a lake which had an ice house and an outdoor tea house. Back in the day ice was used as a means of refrigeration. It was stored in an icehouse and delivered in chunks to be placed in an icebox which kept meats and perishables chilled. The lake had canoes that “the help” could use in their “off time” as a form of relaxation. They entertained the likes of artist Colin Yates, and musicians Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey. Many social gatherings of the elite of that time were held in their mansion.  The domestic servants wore a black uniform with a white apron, white cap and white gloves when serving a meal .  At a very young age my Mom taught me how to set a table and what utensils were used for each course of the meal. The Hoags took a liking to my mother and offered to adopt her. They wanted to give her a better life than her parents could give to her. When approached by the Hoags, my Mom (the interpreter) and my grandmother would not agree to the adoption. My mom loved her parents fiercely and would not consider a life of riches to be a substitute for these family-filled times. My mother worked as a domestic servant and was paid $5 a week. This was good money for these troubled times. She would live at the Hoag’s house and at the end of the week would be picked up by her brother –in-law Wesley to come home. He had the only car in the family. She would give him $1 for gas money and the rest went to support the family. The year was 1937.