A Book of Short Stories

Counting Loss

This is NOT supposed to have perfect grammar - it is told from the point of view of an uneducated man.

Tick! Tock! Tick! Tock! Tick!

I knew I could never be rich, but I could never have guessed how far I would fall.

The day was October 29, 1929, that is, the day that everything changed. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I could feel it in the air, the incoming loss. I wasn't prepared for what was to come.

It was like every other day, except I had this feeling. It was the way the wind was blowing, or maybe the way that the birds chirped their shallow songs. But there was no way of knowing. Of knowing that it could turn into a stain of grief and blood in the great American history. Of knowing it would turn everyone into monsters, caring only for themselves. Of knowing I would be one of them.

I woke early that morning and went to pray for my wife up in Heaven, it was the anniversary of her death, and also our daughter's fourth birthday. It was just me and Aspen, but that's all we needed. She was an intelligent girl, certainly smarter than I. She had skipped first grade and was already at the top of her class in second. If only it could have lasted just a little longer.

Aspen walked to school, the same as any other day, but I could see the oncoming sadness in her eyes as she left. I did the same work as any other day, working the fields and caring for the animals. It almost seemed like it would be a normal day. But it only lasted for a little while.

Aspen got home as the sun was making its descent, tears in her eyes. I already knew what had happened, the neighbors had told me. I did all that I could to comfort her, telling her little lies like, "It'll be okay," and, "Ain't gonna affect us too much." But even then, I knew they were lies that could not stop the impending loss that would result from the most devastating event in American history, the stock market crash that would cause our great depression.

Within three days we had a different home. The bank had lost all of our money in savings, so we only had what little change I had. That little wasn't enough to let us stay in our home any longer. We spent the first two days wandering around our city in Minnesota, hoping beyond hope that someone, anyone would give us shelter.

On the third, we had found one. It was little more than a big box sitting in a field of big boxes, but it was better than living on the streets. In less than a day after settling, the money had already run out. I looked for jobs, but not a single place would take me. We were forced to begging like dogs, but I could handle the shame so long as Aspen survived.

As time went on, more and more people moved into the boxes laying around. In only a year, there were dozens of families living in the box city. People started to hate President Hoover for letting it come to this, calling the cities of boxes spread around "Hoovervilles." But I didn't mind, so long as I had Aspen.

By the second year, things had only gotten worse. The price of food was too high for even the rich to buy, and disease spread like wildfire through the Hoovervilles. I hadn't heard of news from the outside, but I knew it was just as bad out there as it was in the Hooverville. Every day, I had to stand in line to get the donation of bread for me and Aspen.

So many people died every day. I could see the massive piles of bodies from the bread line. Most of them died from the pestilence that seemed to claim so many, but others were the accidental result of fights over food, or even worse, murder. All I could do was pray for their souls and hope that God would protect them and their families. I was just happy that Aspen didn't have to see such a horrific thing.

The third year only brought more desperation and despair. Many had left or were dead, and the population of the Hooverville only seemed to dwindle. Those who stayed only did so because they had no choice. Even my hope that this would end had shrunken to only a faint star in the far horizon. But I had to stay strong, for Aspen's sake.