Love in the Depression

Untitled Part 1

            I was eighteen years old at the time living in Montgomery, Alabama.  My father, my mother, my younger sister, and I lived in a beautiful house with our golden retriever named Buddy. He was the family pet, but I always felt like he was mine. Our home was located about a mile out of town with an enormous, grassy back yard. I think my favorite part of our house was the sparkling river in our back yard. I often would find myself sitting at the bank of the river with my dog and a favorite book. I used to find this peaceful, now the thought of this place makes me sick. I still remember when I was five years old sitting on my mother’s lap. She ran her fingers through my dirty blonde hair and told me not to fall in love while I’m still young. Oh how I wish I would’ve listened to her.

            The day the stock market crashed was a day many lives fell apart. At the time I didn’t realize how many lives would change from this. Just by walking down the street you could witness the devastation on people’s faces. Some families even leaked a few tears, knowing that this was only the beginning of a difficult time. My family was one of the fortunate ones.  My father’s occupation was a police officer, so he remained employed. For the most part my mother stayed home with my sister, but she would occasionally cook at a local diner to make a little extra cash. Of course I was happy that my father had a job to support us, but it wouldn’t be long before I resented what his occupation entailed.

            Every morning my mother would yell upstairs, “Liv it’s time to go to school!” My real name is Olivia Bennet, but I preferred being called Liv. After finally getting out of bed, I would hop in the shower and get ready for school. I had a variety of long, floral flappers that I alternated wearing. My blonde curls were always pulled back into a casual up do. Most girls in my class wore heavy make-up, but I had no interest in it. I would run downstairs to eat the breakfast my mother prepared for me every morning. She was an excellent cook, and I will never forget the taste of her perfectly golden pancakes drenched in syrup. As I departed our house my mother would kiss my freckled cheek and remind me to have a wonderful day. I looked so much like my mother. From my blue eyes to the dimples in my cheek, I was a mirror image of her. My little sister, Bridgette, waved goodbye to me from the front porch while still in her footy pajamas until I was no longer in sight.

            It took me about a half hour to travel to my school. Along the way I passed the colored-school where only African Americans attended. I frequently found myself wondering why we must attend separate schools, but it’s been that way since I was a little girl. The colored-school was a block away from mine. I used to love going to school and learning new things, but ever since the economic crisis began everything changed. My class was absolutely tiny, only six people occupied the empty desks in the classroom. Most families could hardly afford anything, let alone education for their children. Some classmates were even sent to live with distant relatives because their parents couldn’t take care of them anymore. I used to have lots of friends, but after they stopped attending school I barely ever saw them. I didn’t even want to attend school. My dreams consisted of making it as a popular singer or actress, but my mom said I needed a back-up plan. To me it always seemed like she didn’t have faith in me being capable of making it big, but it was the only thing I aspired to do in life. In class I often felt lonely and wished something exciting would happen in my life.

            The ringing of the school bell dismissing students provided me with great relief. It took me only twenty minutes to get home because I always walked faster from school than to school. Every day at approximately 3:15 I passed a corner where the unemployed begged for any type of work. It broke my heart to witness how desperate and dirty they all were. Some people appeared as they hadn’t showered nor ate in days. Only a few were selected for each job, but the rest still remained there in hope of any work at all.