The Poor Thread

[Perianne]

This is a fun thread. You don't have to necessarily tell the truth. :)


Gunny talks about when he was little, he had to run around barefoot.

How poor were you?

[PixieStix]

We were poor, but my parents kept us from that reality. We thought we were rich.

My Dad worked nights when I was little, and whenever there was a bad storm, Mom would sit us all in the hallway and read What Jesus had to say. When you are poor, I feel very strongly that is when you find the truest riches of life.

My Dad worked so hard for us. But so did my Mom.


My Mom did things like have a sort of carnival in our front yard, so as to raise money for Muscular Distrophy. She showed us what life is truly about

[gabosaurus]

My family was lower middle class. As my mom once said "we aren't rich, but we have shoes to wear."

Never walked to school in the snow because it never snows here.

[Kathianne]

Never was poor. I suppose I am now, but don't feel that way. I guess the only changes made has been unloading lots of 'stuff' when I moved. Learning how to really bargain shop and cook-I think I'm a better cook then when I really didn't have to pay attention. I found that the $79 slacks I regularly bought at Loft were available at Good Will for $7. That was a lesson in not being stupid.

My mom was poor as a child, the stories were scary.

[PixieStix]

My family was lower middle class. As my mom once said "we aren't rich, but we have shoes to wear."

Never walked to school in the snow because it never snows here.

We got one pair of shoes per year. That was it. We were taught that if we wanted more we would have to work for it. I would iron cloths for my neighbor and would make my 1 dollar. Then give it to Mom :laugh:

[Abbey Marie]

Well, we were living in a Bronx Housing Project/free school lunch, poor. I (happily) lived in a world of books.

But I had a Dad who worked to support us, parents who stayed together, and two older brothers to protect me. I didn't realize we were poor by the country's standards until much later.

[Gunny]

This is a fun thread. You don't have to necessarily tell the truth. :)


Gunny talks about when he was little, he had to run around barefoot.

How poor were you?

You make it sound like I was complaining. I DID have to run around barefoot, in last year's cut-off jeans, and usually no shirt. The shoes I had for Sunday school hurt my feet. The thing is, your question is poor. We didn't know we were. Somebody had to explain it to us once we were older. So you have to define poor.

We didn't have money and a lot of store bought crap, but I was rich in that I had the best grandparents in the world. I wouldn't have traded them for any store bought crap, nor to be a pampered city-dwelling sissy. There was no such thing as fast food. Not for us. Unless you think leftovers is fast food. No microwaves. We actually had to cook our food. And I was more responsible and capable at age 6 than you are now.

So if you want to pick on us that weren't pampered from birth and actually fought to survive ... you can figure out what the next statement's going to be.

[Gunny]

Dammit, Perianne .. stop pretending to be someone else. I thought I was responding to Gabby.

[Elessar]

When my dad was overseas with his meager E-5 salary,
I worked in a dairy to be able to bring home milk, buttermilk.
cream, and cottage cheese.

My older brother was so lazy he would not even cut the lawn,
but loved his SGT Rock and SGT Fury comic books

[Gunny]

When my dad was overseas with his meager E-5 salary,
I worked in a dairy to be able to bring home milk, buttermilk.
cream, and cottage cheese.

My older brother was so lazy he would not even cut the lawn,
but loved his SGT Rock and SGT Fury comic books

I loved cottage cheese and peaches. That was a treat for us. Usually got raw carrots for a snack. And E-5 pay with kids sucks. Had this SgtMaj try to tell my Marines they couldn't show up for their WIC or foodstamps in uniform. I was like fuck you. Why don't you pay them more? You want them to wear that uniform into battle. MY Marines are going to show up in public and show you what your appreciation is worth and if you ain't got a damned order that says otherwise, we're done here.

Fuck THAT.

[Perianne]

Dammit, Perianne .. stop pretending to be someone else. I thought I was responding to Gabby.

As I told you in PM, I sorta meant this to be an exaggerating thread about how poor everyone was... a joke thread. Like we were so poor the church mice brought us food. Or like you said, you were so poor you didn't know what poor was (or something like that).

We were so poor we took baths in puddles.

We were so poor we got our groceries at the county dump.

We were so poor the only corn flakes we got were scrapings from dad's feet.

[Gunny]

As I told you in PM, I sorta meant this to be an exaggerating thread about how poor everyone was... a joke thread. Like we were so poor the church mice brought us food. Or like you said, you were so poor you didn't know what poor was (or something like that).

We were so poor we took baths in puddles.

We were so poor we got our groceries at the county dump.

We were so poor the only corn flakes we got were scrapings from dad's feet.

And as I responded, I hate snobs. Always have. We're cool. You just picked the wrong topic to invoke my name in the OP. I grew up with almost nothing. I took it the wrong way. Sorry.

And I know a woman on this board that had less.

[glockmail]

My dad was a very smart guy, received a full scholarship to a private high school and graduated near the top of his class. My grandfather never gave him a dime and would never had paid for it. My dad did two years of college then ran out of money, so joined the Army. It was 1950.

He placed so high in the tests that they didn't want to send him overseas, kept him El Paso and had him teach math. Four years of that was his Army career, and he had experience and contacts to land a decent job. By then he had my mom and three kids to feed and a house to pay for so finished college as a part-time student. Along with a full time job and night school, he drove a cab during the weekend to make ends meet. It took him ten years to finish college at that rate, but he did it.

With his late start we weren't rich, but my mom was frugal and we never wanted for anything. We were well off enough that we lived in a good neighborhood with good schools. College was on us but our parents helped out with room and board, car insurance, etc.

[Abbey Marie]

As I told you in PM, I sorta meant this to be an exaggerating thread about how poor everyone was... a joke thread. Like we were so poor the church mice brought us food. Or like you said, you were so poor you didn't know what poor was (or something like that).

We were so poor we took baths in puddles.

We were so poor we got our groceries at the county dump.

We were so poor the only corn flakes we got were scrapings from dad's feet.

Oh, well then maybe I should delete my post. I took you seriously, and now I feel silly.

[Kathianne]

Oh, well then maybe I should delete my post. I took you seriously, and now I feel silly.
No don't! Whatever the intention everyone answered as they thought. This happens a lot where it goes differently than I intended. I found the stories interesting, just like the Christmas' past one. WE bring a lot of differences here, yet most of the time the similarities are what stands out. It all makes us what we are.

[Perianne]

Oh, well then maybe I should delete my post. I took you seriously, and now I feel silly.

Oh, no. Your post was just fine. Mostly I start threads to get conversation going. As long as it is not fighting, I really don't care what people post. Plus, I love hearing other people's stories. And I like pictures...a lot.

[CSM]

My family was so poor when I was a kid that if had cost a nickel to send Mom, Dad and 8 kids on a trip around the world, we would not have had enough to get out of sight!

[Voted4Reagan]

We were not poor... lower upper class. Never lacked for the essentials but also never spoiled rotten.

Dad and Mom worked hard.....

[Drummond]

I was so poor, I couldn't afford the price of a knuckleduster. Consequently, all the local Lefties went around, in a comparatively 'un-thumped' state ...

It made for a very aggravating childhood, something I've never forgiven them for (they deserved a good thumping for my having been deprived of the fullest capacity to thump them) ... but, never mind. Life tends to provide balance, if you wait long enough ..

... Hello, FJ ... :laugh::eek:

[NightTrain]

We were poor growing up. After Dad left the Army, we moved back to Alaska and out into the boonies, something he'd always wanted to do since he was a kid.

He made money during the summer months taking tourists for fishing charters on the river, and we knew where all the secret hot spots were since we lived there... the Talkeetna River was our driveway, so to speak. But during the off season, there wasn't much money to be had, so we grew our own vegetables and ate a lot of moose.

Twice a year, we'd be landlocked and couldn't get to town for supplies as the river either froze up or broke up. We would make a run to Anchorage before this happened with Dad's Oldsmobile Country Squire station wagon we called the Tuna Boat. It was a horribly puke-yellow color with fake wood paneling on it... uglier than sin and I would scrunch down in the passenger seat so no one would see me in that ugly beast. It had a 350 in it, though, and would really haul ass.

In about '85 or so, Dad miscalculated (or more accurately, didn't have enough money) on how much supplies we were going to need, and then the mistake was compounded by a weird freeze-up that didn't happen for an extra 3 weeks. The Permanent Fund Dividends had come in and were waiting for us at the Talkeetna Post Office, but that was 20 miles away and we had no way to get there until the river froze.

Finally, we were out of food and were down to about 100 pounds of oatmeal, and Mom and Dad were out of tobacco. Moose don't come down out of the mountains until deep snow forces them to, and there was only about 8" of snow on the ground. They were nowhere close, unfortunately for us.

Worse still, we blew the engine on our only snowmachine. Snowmachines can get you across much thinner ice than you can walk across because of their surface area and speed, so this was a real problem. Trying to get out with our dog sled team wasn't an option either, because of the extremely sketchy ice and dogs will balk at thin ice - because they know it's a stupid thing to do and will wisely refuse to go across no matter how much you yell and threaten.

Mom tried everything she could think of to make that oatmeal palatable, but no matter what you do with it, it's still oatmeal and we were eating it breakfast, lunch and dinner. Something had to give.

So we pulled the Yamaha snowmachine engine and put the whole thing in Dad's big rucksack, and I had a smaller pack for carrying our sleeping bags and other gear, and we started walking out overland. We followed the river for about 10 miles, and it was extremely hard going. The temperature had dropped and was -20 when we made our camp for the night, but we had good bags and were relatively comfortable... besides, I was exhausted.

The next morning we found an ice bridge across the river, but it was new ice and we knew it wasn't very strong. I might be able to get across it, but it didn't look like it would support Dad. But we had to get across it to the other side at some point and this was our best shot - there was a 4-wheeler trail on the other side and we didn't want to fight our way through the brush and tangles all the way down to the railroad bridge in Talkeetna.

So we cut a pole from a tree about 15' long and I put that under my arm so that if I fell through, hopefully the pole would prevent me from plunging all the way through the ice and to a watery grave. We tied the rope around my chest and Dad tied to the other end, and Dad followed, dragging his rucksack on the ice behind him about 20'... we were doing our best to distribute the weight load on the ice. Seemed like it took forever for me to make it across, and I quickly went around a spruce tree with my end of the rope in case Dad fell though (I thought that was very likely) and I didn't think I was strong enough to pull him back out if he did break through.

He made it, and we walked for another 12 hours before finally reaching town. We hopped into the Tuna Boat, dropped the Yamaha engine off at a mechanic's house for an emergency rebuild and hauled ass to Anchorage, stayed with a friend overnight, bought a LOT of supplies at Costco, and boogied back to Talkeetna. The engine was rebuilt by the next day, and had to figure out how to get back home with the supplies. The tentative plan had been to charter a 206 to Sockeye Lake about 2 miles from our home, but the pilot said the ice wasn't safe enough to land there... so that was out, and the rest of our family was starving up the river.

So Dad found a helicopter pilot at the bar who didn't have much going on, and cooked up a deal to provide him with half a moose for a ride up the river. The pilot wrote up the flight as a "check flight" or something, so we loaded that helicopter to the gills with a Yamaha engine and as much food as we could stuff in it... I remember the pilot saying we were grossly overloaded as we took off from the Talkeetna airport.

We landed right in front of the cabin on the river. The pilot set her down very gently, not trusting the ice, and as the weight came to bear, it broke. The whole ice shelf plunged about 3' down and we went airborne again. This time the pilot scooted us under a large overhanging birch tree as close to the bank as he could and it held. We offloaded it and he took off, and we delivered his moose to him a few weeks later.

As it turned out, there was still enough oatmeal for another week... partially due to my middle brother Jim declaring he would eat no more oatmeal. The little shit hadn't eaten in 3 days and said later he was pretty dizzy from hunger... I didn't blame him. :laugh: Mom had been trying to smoke birch leaves that she dried on the wood stove and then crumbled to substitute for tobacco, but she said it didn't work very well. 'Twas a tad harsh going down, I expect.

Yeah, we were poor, and sometimes being poor can put you in some pretty adverse situations... but as I look back on it now, it was great education as a kid to learn to make do with what you have. Creativity is hard to teach when you're comfortable.

To this day, oatmeal is not allowed in my house. I hate that smiling Quaker with his blue eyes. He's the devil.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

First the joke replies-
"We were so poor, that we couldn't even pay attention."
"We were so poor that if it took two pennies to get a glass of water, we'd all have died of thirst."

Now the reality--
My parents had 13 children, two died as infants, 11 survived. We lived and worked on a farm.
We used our rifles and shotguns to hunt for game to "survive"--not for sport but instead for meat to eat.
Every bullet or shotgun shell had to be accounted for, no wasting expensive ammo. We said, to hell with game regulations/laws and shot game to eat all year except Spring when the game rears its young. We trapped rabbits in home-made game traps etc.
I started working in the fields after school picking cotton , at age 6. Back then we stayed out of school the first 6 to 8 weeks every year picking cotton to have money to buy food to survive the hard winter months. I went my entire first grade but started in 2nd grade staying out to work all day picking cotton until the season was over.
Life was hard but we all had each other and actually played and had fun-when not working.
Learned a harsh lesson about this world at an early age!
Never felt true hardship until my father dad- then the world and I went to battle....
I tried for at least ten years to destroy it in my revenge.
I learned that --nobody defeats the world- regardless of their toughness or intelligence level.
All that and other factors made for a tough hombre but one that knew not to be a damn bully- instead to be the guy that stomped the bullies.
Which in turn made me a loner most of my life.
Being poor, is a relative term IMHO.
I LOOK BACK AND SEE A LOT OF BLESSING IN HOW WE WERE RAISED!
Yet none of my kids ever had to do such and live without!
I suppose my one great flaw is that I spoiled them and should have made it harder on them but they turned out damn well regardless. I have nothing but pure pride in their character, compassion for others and strengths.
And as a reformed man, I am now basically a gentle soul. ;)-Tyr

[glockmail]

We were poor growing up. After Dad left the Army, we moved back to Alaska and out into the boonies, something he'd always wanted to do since he was a kid.

He made money during the summer months taking tourists for fishing charters on the river, and we knew where all the secret hot spots were since we lived there... the Talkeetna River was our driveway, so to speak. But during the off season, there wasn't much money to be had, so we grew our own vegetables and ate a lot of moose.

Twice a year, we'd be landlocked and couldn't get to town for supplies as the river either froze up or broke up. We would make a run to Anchorage before this happened with Dad's Oldsmobile Country Squire station wagon we called the Tuna Boat. It was a horribly puke-yellow color with fake wood paneling on it... uglier than sin and I would scrunch down in the passenger seat so no one would see me in that ugly beast. It had a 350 in it, though, and would really haul ass.

In about '85 or so, Dad miscalculated (or more accurately, didn't have enough money) on how much supplies we were going to need, and then the mistake was compounded by a weird freeze-up that didn't happen for an extra 3 weeks. The Permanent Fund Dividends had come in and were waiting for us at the Talkeetna Post Office, but that was 20 miles away and we had no way to get there until the river froze.

Finally, we were out of food and were down to about 100 pounds of oatmeal, and Mom and Dad were out of tobacco. Moose don't come down out of the mountains until deep snow forces them to, and there was only about 8" of snow on the ground. They were nowhere close, unfortunately for us.

Worse still, we blew the engine on our only snowmachine. Snowmachines can get you across much thinner ice than you can walk across because of their surface area and speed, so this was a real problem. Trying to get out with our dog sled team wasn't an option either, because of the extremely sketchy ice and dogs will balk at thin ice - because they know it's a stupid thing to do and will wisely refuse to go across no matter how much you yell and threaten.

Mom tried everything she could think of to make that oatmeal palatable, but no matter what you do with it, it's still oatmeal and we were eating it breakfast, lunch and dinner. Something had to give.

So we pulled the Yamaha snowmachine engine and put the whole thing in Dad's big rucksack, and I had a smaller pack for carrying our sleeping bags and other gear, and we started walking out overland. We followed the river for about 10 miles, and it was extremely hard going. The temperature had dropped and was -20 when we made our camp for the night, but we had good bags and were relatively comfortable... besides, I was exhausted.

The next morning we found an ice bridge across the river, but it was new ice and we knew it wasn't very strong. I might be able to get across it, but it didn't look like it would support Dad. But we had to get across it to the other side at some point and this was our best shot - there was a 4-wheeler trail on the other side and we didn't want to fight our way through the brush and tangles all the way down to the railroad bridge in Talkeetna.

So we cut a pole from a tree about 15' long and I put that under my arm so that if I fell through, hopefully the pole would prevent me from plunging all the way through the ice and to a watery grave. We tied the rope around my chest and Dad tied to the other end, and Dad followed, dragging his rucksack on the ice behind him about 20'... we were doing our best to distribute the weight load on the ice. Seemed like it took forever for me to make it across, and I quickly went around a spruce tree with my end of the rope in case Dad fell though (I thought that was very likely) and I didn't think I was strong enough to pull him back out if he did break through.

He made it, and we walked for another 12 hours before finally reaching town. We hopped into the Tuna Boat, dropped the Yamaha engine off at a mechanic's house for an emergency rebuild and hauled ass to Anchorage, stayed with a friend overnight, bought a LOT of supplies at Costco, and boogied back to Talkeetna. The engine was rebuilt by the next day, and had to figure out how to get back home with the supplies. The tentative plan had been to charter a 206 to Sockeye Lake about 2 miles from our home, but the pilot said the ice wasn't safe enough to land there... so that was out, and the rest of our family was starving up the river.

So Dad found a helicopter pilot at the bar who didn't have much going on, and cooked up a deal to provide him with half a moose for a ride up the river. The pilot wrote up the flight as a "check flight" or something, so we loaded that helicopter to the gills with a Yamaha engine and as much food as we could stuff in it... I remember the pilot saying we were grossly overloaded as we took off from the Talkeetna airport.

We landed right in front of the cabin on the river. The pilot set her down very gently, not trusting the ice, and as the weight came to bear, it broke. The whole ice shelf plunged about 3' down and we went airborne again. This time the pilot scooted us under a large overhanging birch tree as close to the bank as he could and it held. We offloaded it and he took off, and we delivered his moose to him a few weeks later.

As it turned out, there was still enough oatmeal for another week... partially due to my middle brother Jim declaring he would eat no more oatmeal. The little shit hadn't eaten in 3 days and said later he was pretty dizzy from hunger... I didn't blame him. :laugh: Mom had been trying to smoke birch leaves that she dried on the wood stove and then crumbled to substitute for tobacco, but she said it didn't work very well. 'Twas a tad harsh going down, I expect.

Yeah, we were poor, and sometimes being poor can put you in some pretty adverse situations... but as I look back on it now, it was great education as a kid to learn to make do with what you have. Creativity is hard to teach when you're comfortable.

To this day, oatmeal is not allowed in my house. I hate that smiling Quaker with his blue eyes. He's the devil.

Wow- great story about survival. I lived outside Syracuse NY for 11 years and had a few harrowing experiences due to extreme conditions, but nothing at all to compare to that. :clap:

[NightTrain]

Yet none of my kids ever had to do such and live without!
I suppose my one great flaw is that I spoiled them and should have made it harder on them but they turned out damn well regardless. I have nothing but pure pride in their character, compassion for others and strengths.


I think about that quite often.

The extent of what's expected of my kids are : Doing the dishes on a rotating basis, good grades and cleaning their rooms.

It's a far cry from what I did at their age, and I wonder if I've done them a disservice by the easy life I've provided for them.

But while I appreciate (now, not back when I was living it!) the lessons and hardships I went through as a kid, I always end up at the same conclusion : I would not do that to my kids. It was hard, really hard. And I had a hell of a tough time adjusting to "normal" life as a Junior and Senior in high school and the social pressure as a clueless outsider was immense as a teenager.

I've made the right choice, IMO, but there are many lessons they didn't get. There's always a trade off.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

I think about that quite often.

The extent of what's expected of my kids are : Doing the dishes on a rotating basis, good grades and cleaning their rooms.

It's a far cry from what I did at their age, and I wonder if I've done them a disservice by the easy life I've provided for them.

But while I appreciate (now, not back when I was living it!) the lessons and hardships I went through as a kid, I always end up at the same conclusion : I would not do that to my kids. It was hard, really hard. And I had a hell of a tough time adjusting to "normal" life as a Junior and Senior in high school and the social pressure as a clueless outsider was immense as a teenager.

I've made the right choice, IMO, but there are many lessons they didn't get. There's always a trade off.
I think the same way my friend. Simply can not see deliberately making it hard on them , even if it would improve them in some bit. As I remember going days without food, or months on one small meal a day-at school no less!
Hard to find a balance when one looks back and remembers saying--when I get grown and have kids, I'll make damn sure that my kids do not suffer like this.
We do the best we can and pray that it is enough .
My son will be a good and strong man by age 18 even if it kills me to make that happen!!
I'll shatter a damn mountain to make that a reality. -Tyr

[Gunny]

We were poor growing up. After Dad left the Army, we moved back to Alaska and out into the boonies, something he'd always wanted to do since he was a kid.

He made money during the summer months taking tourists for fishing charters on the river, and we knew where all the secret hot spots were since we lived there... the Talkeetna River was our driveway, so to speak. But during the off season, there wasn't much money to be had, so we grew our own vegetables and ate a lot of moose.

Twice a year, we'd be landlocked and couldn't get to town for supplies as the river either froze up or broke up. We would make a run to Anchorage before this happened with Dad's Oldsmobile Country Squire station wagon we called the Tuna Boat. It was a horribly puke-yellow color with fake wood paneling on it... uglier than sin and I would scrunch down in the passenger seat so no one would see me in that ugly beast. It had a 350 in it, though, and would really haul ass.

In about '85 or so, Dad miscalculated (or more accurately, didn't have enough money) on how much supplies we were going to need, and then the mistake was compounded by a weird freeze-up that didn't happen for an extra 3 weeks. The Permanent Fund Dividends had come in and were waiting for us at the Talkeetna Post Office, but that was 20 miles away and we had no way to get there until the river froze.

Finally, we were out of food and were down to about 100 pounds of oatmeal, and Mom and Dad were out of tobacco. Moose don't come down out of the mountains until deep snow forces them to, and there was only about 8" of snow on the ground. They were nowhere close, unfortunately for us.

Worse still, we blew the engine on our only snowmachine. Snowmachines can get you across much thinner ice than you can walk across because of their surface area and speed, so this was a real problem. Trying to get out with our dog sled team wasn't an option either, because of the extremely sketchy ice and dogs will balk at thin ice - because they know it's a stupid thing to do and will wisely refuse to go across no matter how much you yell and threaten.

Mom tried everything she could think of to make that oatmeal palatable, but no matter what you do with it, it's still oatmeal and we were eating it breakfast, lunch and dinner. Something had to give.

So we pulled the Yamaha snowmachine engine and put the whole thing in Dad's big rucksack, and I had a smaller pack for carrying our sleeping bags and other gear, and we started walking out overland. We followed the river for about 10 miles, and it was extremely hard going. The temperature had dropped and was -20 when we made our camp for the night, but we had good bags and were relatively comfortable... besides, I was exhausted.

The next morning we found an ice bridge across the river, but it was new ice and we knew it wasn't very strong. I might be able to get across it, but it didn't look like it would support Dad. But we had to get across it to the other side at some point and this was our best shot - there was a 4-wheeler trail on the other side and we didn't want to fight our way through the brush and tangles all the way down to the railroad bridge in Talkeetna.

So we cut a pole from a tree about 15' long and I put that under my arm so that if I fell through, hopefully the pole would prevent me from plunging all the way through the ice and to a watery grave. We tied the rope around my chest and Dad tied to the other end, and Dad followed, dragging his rucksack on the ice behind him about 20'... we were doing our best to distribute the weight load on the ice. Seemed like it took forever for me to make it across, and I quickly went around a spruce tree with my end of the rope in case Dad fell though (I thought that was very likely) and I didn't think I was strong enough to pull him back out if he did break through.

He made it, and we walked for another 12 hours before finally reaching town. We hopped into the Tuna Boat, dropped the Yamaha engine off at a mechanic's house for an emergency rebuild and hauled ass to Anchorage, stayed with a friend overnight, bought a LOT of supplies at Costco, and boogied back to Talkeetna. The engine was rebuilt by the next day, and had to figure out how to get back home with the supplies. The tentative plan had been to charter a 206 to Sockeye Lake about 2 miles from our home, but the pilot said the ice wasn't safe enough to land there... so that was out, and the rest of our family was starving up the river.

So Dad found a helicopter pilot at the bar who didn't have much going on, and cooked up a deal to provide him with half a moose for a ride up the river. The pilot wrote up the flight as a "check flight" or something, so we loaded that helicopter to the gills with a Yamaha engine and as much food as we could stuff in it... I remember the pilot saying we were grossly overloaded as we took off from the Talkeetna airport.

We landed right in front of the cabin on the river. The pilot set her down very gently, not trusting the ice, and as the weight came to bear, it broke. The whole ice shelf plunged about 3' down and we went airborne again. This time the pilot scooted us under a large overhanging birch tree as close to the bank as he could and it held. We offloaded it and he took off, and we delivered his moose to him a few weeks later.

As it turned out, there was still enough oatmeal for another week... partially due to my middle brother Jim declaring he would eat no more oatmeal. The little shit hadn't eaten in 3 days and said later he was pretty dizzy from hunger... I didn't blame him. :laugh: Mom had been trying to smoke birch leaves that she dried on the wood stove and then crumbled to substitute for tobacco, but she said it didn't work very well. 'Twas a tad harsh going down, I expect.

Yeah, we were poor, and sometimes being poor can put you in some pretty adverse situations... but as I look back on it now, it was great education as a kid to learn to make do with what you have. Creativity is hard to teach when you're comfortable.

To this day, oatmeal is not allowed in my house. I hate that smiling Quaker with his blue eyes. He's the devil.

Leftovers are the devil. To this day, if it ain't pizza, no f-ing leftovers that's been sitting in plastic for days. I'll pull your brother's act and not eat. I ate so many leftovers as a kid and I hated every bite.

I like your story though. That's some hard corps sh*t. :)

[Gunny]

First the joke replies-
"We were so poor, that we couldn't even pay attention."
"We were so poor that if it took two pennies to get a glass of water, we'd all have died of thirst."

Now the reality--
My parents had 13 children, two died as infants, 11 survived. We lived and worked on a farm.
We used our rifles and shotguns to hunt for game to "survive"--not for sport but instead for meat to eat.
Every bullet or shotgun shell had to be accounted for, no wasting expensive ammo. We said, to hell with game regulations/laws and shot game to eat all year except Spring when the game rears its young. We trapped rabbits in home-made game traps etc.
I started working in the fields after school picking cotton , at age 6. Back then we stayed out of school the first 6 to 8 weeks every year picking cotton to have money to buy food to survive the hard winter months. I went my entire first grade but started in 2nd grade staying out to work all day picking cotton until the season was over.
Life was hard but we all had each other and actually played and had fun-when not working.
Learned a harsh lesson about this world at an early age!
Never felt true hardship until my father dad- then the world and I went to battle....
I tried for at least ten years to destroy it in my revenge.
I learned that --nobody defeats the world- regardless of their toughness or intelligence level.
All that and other factors made for a tough hombre but one that knew not to be a damn bully- instead to be the guy that stomped the bullies.
Which in turn made me a loner most of my life.
Being poor, is a relative term IMHO.
I LOOK BACK AND SEE A LOT OF BLESSING IN HOW WE WERE RAISED!
Yet none of my kids ever had to do such and live without!
I suppose my one great flaw is that I spoiled them and should have made it harder on them but they turned out damn well regardless. I have nothing but pure pride in their character, compassion for others and strengths.
And as a reformed man, I am now basically a gentle soul. ;)-Tyr

You're a damned Southern redneck. I'd have expected no other story. And we probably ALL have one thing in common -- we overcompensated with our children.

[Gunny]

I think about that quite often.

The extent of what's expected of my kids are : Doing the dishes on a rotating basis, good grades and cleaning their rooms.

It's a far cry from what I did at their age, and I wonder if I've done them a disservice by the easy life I've provided for them.

But while I appreciate (now, not back when I was living it!) the lessons and hardships I went through as a kid, I always end up at the same conclusion : I would not do that to my kids. It was hard, really hard. And I had a hell of a tough time adjusting to "normal" life as a Junior and Senior in high school and the social pressure as a clueless outsider was immense as a teenager.

I've made the right choice, IMO, but there are many lessons they didn't get. There's always a trade off.

You figured out how to get them to do dishes without a full scale riot? I'm jealous.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

You're a damned Southern redneck. I'd have expected no other story. And we probably ALL have one thing in common -- we overcompensated with our children.


You're a damned Southern redneck.

^^^^ Thanks..... Always take pride in hearing or reading that quote..
We rebels, ALL damn sure never back down and never let elitists of any stripe get by with their arrogance.
Sure we over compensated, and why wouldn't we?
As we all remembered how tough it was and how we swore our kids would have it much better!
And like true Southerners we made that vow a reality!- :beer: :beer:
I suppose we should forgive ourselves for that weakness steeped in fatherly love my friend.
As we are usually so strong in core principles and our rigid defiances..
If SOUTHERN BORN A DEFIANT CHARACTER COMES WITH THE PACKAGE AT BIRTH METHINKS.. -Tyr

[Gunny]

^^^^ Thanks..... Always take pride in hearing or reading that quote..
We rebels, ALL damn sure never back down and never let elitists of any stripe get by with their arrogance.
Sure we over compensated, and why wouldn't we?
As we all remembered how tough it was and how we swore our kids would have it much better!
And like true Southerners we made that vow a reality!- :beer: :beer:
I suppose we should forgive ourselves for that weakness steeped in fatherly love my friend.
As we are usually so strong in core principles and our rigid defiances.. -Tyr

My little princess got everything I never had. :)

We were raised that when the sh*t hit the fan it was time to do something. Not wait around on anyone else to do it for us. Well, because, there was nobody around being as we refused to ask for help.:laugh:

And I'm like you ... these spoiled city slickers think they're insulting me by calling me a redneck? About the same as someone thinking they're insulting me calling me jarhead. You're damn rights I am. Both.

[Abbey Marie]

It's interesting that so many of us grew up poor, yet ended up Conservative, instead of becoming handout-loving Dem victims.

Our parents did something very right. :thumb:

[Bilgerat]

Reading thru this I have to agree with a lot of the posters

What is "poor"

My family was Da, Mom, me, Sis and the "Babe"

We had food in our bellies. Leftovers didn't exist tho.

May not have had meat every night, sometimes we had pancakes for dinner (black strap molasses was my favorite sweetener). Salt pork was our bacon and oatmeal was always there for breakfast.

I hunted (deer, birds, squirrel), raised rabbits and fished.

As for barefoot, my Me-mere taught me how to cure hides. Made my own moccasins for summer wear.

So we had more than some, less than some.

One season we became "deer rich" We shared with those who didn't have.

And the Govt. cheese! Peanut butter was great too!

[Kathianne]

You figured out how to get them to do dishes without a full scale riot? I'm jealous.
I don't know about NT, but my kids started setting and clearing the table by 3. We had a dishwasher, but they had to scrape off and rinse and put them in the dishwasher. When they start that young, it's just what they do, like being asked to be excused from the table.

When I was over at my daughter's in September, Alison wasn't walking yet (she is now!). Kendall was telling her that, "First you put down the plate, then the fork goes to the left, on top of the napkin. The knife is on the right, sharp side facing the plate, spoon goes next to the knife. Glass goes above the knife and spoon.

I just laughed, she said, "Hey, it worked for us-when did you have to set the table or rinse the dishes when we are at home?" LOL!

[Kathianne]

It's interesting that so many of us grew up poor, yet ended up Conservative, instead of becoming handout-loving Dem victims.

Our parents did something very right. :thumb:

I'm thinking that we all recognized (poor or not), that our parents and ourselves worked hard and want to keep what's ours.

With my wonderful job right now, I'm sometimes working close to 50 hours a week for less than I made in 2 days teaching. As I'm pulling out of the parking lot after standing in basically one place and moving multiple 40 lb bags of dog food several times a day, dealing with the occasional idiot customers, there are people with signs saying, "No job, please help!" Really? They are taking applications...

[gabosaurus]

Before any of you louts further pontificates about how poor they were when they grew up, you need to watch this Monty Python sketch. :cool:


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1a1wHxTyo

[Perianne]

When my daughter was little, of course we had a VCR and her favorite movies on tape.

I told her one time that when I was little, we didn't have a VCR. She asked "Then how did you play your movies?". :)

These kids have no concept of not having your favorite Disney movies on tape or DVD. I am happy for them that they have grown up with more prosperity than many of us.

[Gunny]

Before any of you louts further pontificates about how poor they were when they grew up, you need to watch this Monty Python sketch. :cool:


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1a1wHxTyo

Before you open your trap again, try going barefoot and hungry for awhile. Best pair of jeans have patches on the knees. You probably have no clue what it's like to do without, do you?

Nobody handed us a damned thing because we thought we were entitled, and we never asked for any. Unlike people like that think you're entitled to something just because you're born. You want to call us louts? Who is the lout when we have enough pride to earn what we have instead of thinking it should be taken from someone else who earned what they have and handed to you for no reason whatsoever? If I didn't have to pay for losers sucking off my paycheck, I'd make a LOT more money.

So who's the loser here? All we lose is money. You lose any semblance of respect.

[sundaydriver]

We weren't poor when I was growing up or even exposed to the really poor. I had to wait for college and after to be poor. Having 3 dollars and debating whether to buy the makings for a few days of P&J sandwiches or walk the 3 miles to class for a few days. That wasn't tough times but that's all I've got.

I gained an appreciation for what it must like by reading Sam Levenson's books and writings (gotta be old to remember Sam) about growing up poor in the tenants of Brooklyn. Great stories of not knowing you're poor because you lived the same as everyone else and the parents kept the cruelties of poverty away from their door thru hard work, perseverance, and education. The Mother telling them to (Perri would luv this) stop being an undesirable and be indispensable.

[sundaydriver]

Gunny talks about when he was little, he had to run around barefoot.

Barefoot stories always reminds of a comedy sketch with 2 old Jewish guys trying to out do each other on how poor they were growing up.

1st Guy; We were so poor that we always went barefoot even in winter.

2nd Guy; You had feet?

[Gunny]

Before you open your trap again, try going barefoot and hungry for awhile. Best pair of jeans have patches on the knees. You probably have no clue what it's like to do without, do you?

Nobody handed us a damned thing because we thought we were entitled, and we never asked for any. Unlike people like that think you're entitled to something just because you're born. You want to call us louts? Who is the lout when we have enough pride to earn what we have instead of thinking it should be taken from someone else who earned what they have and handed to you for no reason whatsoever? If I didn't have to pay for losers sucking off my paycheck, I'd make a LOT more money.

So who's the loser here? All we lose is money. You lose any semblance of respect.

The whole point is we didn't know we were poor. The snobs didn't come until HS. I HATED shoes. I spent most of my times in a pair of cut off jeans, no shirt and no shoes. When winter would come along I thought I was having to get dressed up for it. We used to get bread and butter sandwiches or carrots for snacks.

What always gets me about this topic is I look at kids nowadays. They expect a car and stay at home forever. I was babysitting by the time I was 10, and dragging a law mower by 12 (had to be 12 to use one on base) Use to run newspapers around on my bike. Had a "legal" job at a gas station the day after I turned 16. If I wanted money, I had to go get it. I had to buy my own first jalopy.

The whole mentality of expecting something you didn't go out and earn is a foreign concept to me.

But I didn't know we were poor as kids until I was an adult. We went to church every Sunday and we had something to eat every meal.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

We weren't poor when I was growing up or even exposed to the really poor. I had to wait for college and after to be poor. Having 3 dollars and debating whether to buy the makings for a few days of P&J sandwiches or walk the 3 miles to class for a few days. That wasn't tough times but that's all I've got.

I gained an appreciation for what it must like by reading Sam Levenson's books and writings (gotta be old to remember Sam) about growing up poor in the tenants of Brooklyn. Great stories of not knowing you're poor because you lived the same as everyone else and the parents kept the cruelties of poverty away from their door thru hard work, perseverance, and education. The Mother telling them to (Perri would luv this) stop being an undesirable and be indispensable.

At least you had some experience even if it was not a major life altering /changing lifestyle.
We see and get lectured to by millions of liberals that have zero experience and not a clue .
Which in turn gives us righteous cause to say and think of them as we do.
However, actually living it as a child and reading about it are too extremely different learning experiences.
-Tyr

[Abbey Marie]

And on the other end of that spectrum, there really should be a special place in hell for Limousine Liberals.

And it should be called "The Galling Hypocrites Suite". This time, the gated community keeps them locked in.

:coffee:

[Noir]

I would consider our household poor when I was younger, until I got to my early teens, but I have no memory of having to go without food or something as extreme as that.

[Drummond]

And on the other end of that spectrum, there really should be a special place in hell for Limousine Liberals.

And it should be called "The Galling Hypocrites Suite". This time, the gated community keeps them locked in.

This is why, ultimately, there IS NO SUCH THING as a 'liberal', that's to say, a Leftie whose human nature fully interlocks with the 'philosophy'. Those who think otherwise are living in a dream world.

Leftieism, one day, must fail and become an unacceptable system to apply to any society. What's needed is for the realisation to dawn that this is so. Until that day arrives, mankind will continue to suffer needless misery.

[Drummond]

I would consider our household poor when I was younger, until I got to my early teens, but I have no memory of having to go without food or something as extreme as that.

Well, there y'go.

So then, Noir, all this 'fighting for the common, working class, 'poor' man' (since as you know, certainly from our side of the Pond, all of it is historically rooted in 'fighting for the poor, downtrodden, suffering working classes') ... how much of all that stuff is pure theory to you ? How much do you genuinely identify with the Leftieism you'd happily preach to others ?

[sundaydriver]

What always gets me about this topic is I look at kids nowadays. They expect a car and stay at home forever. I was babysitting by the time I was 10, and dragging a law mower by 12 (had to be 12 to use one on base) Use to run newspapers around on my bike. Had a "legal" job at a gas station the day after I turned 16. If I wanted money, I had to go get it. I had to buy my own first jalopy.

The whole mentality of expecting something you didn't go out and earn is a foreign concept to me.

In fairness a lot of young kids don't have the same opportunity to make any money today until they are of working age like we did. Snowblowers and John Deere took care of that for shoveling most snow and cutting of lawns.

We would leave the house with no money and get some when we needed it when we wanted to buy something. We wanted ice cream or a soda, my Buddies and I split up to collect returnable soda bottles at 2 or 5 cents each until we had enough for what we wanted. We collected newspapers & magazines on garbage day that people put out. Collected them for a month or so and then Dad would bring a truck home from work and we loaded them and took them to the junkyard where we got 20 or 30 dollars for 2 or 3 thousand lbs. Yeah, had my regular clients for grass cutting and shoveling and a couple of pro bono elderly clients.

When I was 13, Dad came home with a used drill press, 1/16" drill bits, and a couple of jigs he had made and told me I was in business and owed him $700 for everything. Turns out he needed a sub contractor to drill a 1/16" hole drilled horizontal thru a small screw head that needed a wire run thru it when inserted into some type of refrigeration units to be built. A penny and a half for each drilled screw. I sat out in the garage and could do about 550 an hour of these an hour, BIG BUCKS! I soon enlisted 2 of my buddies to drill when I wasn't and paid them a penny a screw. We did 600,000 of those suckers in about 9 months and after my expenses we made $8k between. After that is was putting together 31 page brochures in a ring binder for the same company at 40 cents each.

At 16 a job in a gas station and Dad volunteered all of his kids as hospital volunteers at the hospital. Sisters were Candy Stripers and Dad started the 1st medical Explorer Post in the US to get me and a couple of my friends in as Orderly types and to go to Philly a weekend a month to work with the mental patients at Byberry Mental Hospital,
24,000 patients. That was fun, especially with the criminally insane. :laugh: Try that today, it would never be allowed.

[Noir]

Well, there y'go. So then, Noir, all this 'fighting for the common, working class, 'poor' man' (since as you know, certainly from our side of the Pond, all of it is historically rooted in 'fighting for the poor, downtrodden, suffering working classes') ... how much of all that stuff is pure theory to you ? How much do you genuinely identify with the Leftieism you'd happily preach to others ?

What exactly is the punchline here?
'Noir you arent poor enough for your political views' or what?'

[Gunny]

In fairness a lot of young kids don't have the same opportunity to make any money today until they are of working age like we did. Snowblowers and John Deere took care of that for shoveling most snow and cutting of lawns.

We would leave the house with no money and get some when we needed it when we wanted to buy something. We wanted ice cream or a soda, my Buddies and I split up to collect returnable soda bottles at 2 or 5 cents each until we had enough for what we wanted. We collected newspapers & magazines on garbage day that people put out. Collected them for a month or so and then Dad would bring a truck home from work and we loaded them and took them to the junkyard where we got 20 or 30 dollars for 2 or 3 thousand lbs. Yeah, had my regular clients for grass cutting and shoveling and a couple of pro bono elderly clients.

When I was 13, Dad came home with a used drill press, 1/16" drill bits, and a couple of jigs he had made and told me I was in business and owed him $700 for everything. Turns out he needed a sub contractor to drill a 1/16" hole drilled horizontal thru a small screw head that needed a wire run thru it when inserted into some type of refrigeration units to be built. A penny and a half for each drilled screw. I sat out in the garage and could do about 550 an hour of these an hour, BIG BUCKS! I soon enlisted 2 of my buddies to drill when I wasn't and paid them a penny a screw. We did 600,000 of those suckers in about 9 months and after my expenses we made $8k between. After that is was putting together 31 page brochures in a ring binder for the same company at 40 cents each.

At 16 a job in a gas station and Dad volunteered all of his kids as hospital volunteers at the hospital. Sisters were Candy Stripers and Dad started the 1st medical Explorer Post in the US to get me and a couple of my friends in as Orderly types and to go to Philly a weekend a month to work with the mental patients at Byberry Mental Hospital,
24,000 patients. That was fun, especially with the criminally insane. :laugh: Try that today, it would never be allowed.

I hear you. and it's a shame. Thing is I can't blame the retirees trying to make an extra buck that have taken over part of those jobs. I CAN blame the government for the wetbacks that have them.

But I'm NOT going to let these lazy teens off the hook either. The jobs are there. They ought to wanna quit waiting for them to com knock on the door and offer themselves to these kids. If you WANT a job, you can find one. But these kids are too good for them. I remember teenagers acting like we were scum because they got a $8 an hour job in the air conditioned mall. I pointed out to one that (A), I made $17 an hour plus a retirement check, and (B) it would take me the time it takes to walk to the electrical room to make your AC Heaven a living Hell. :laugh: