A Day in Toledo, 1933
Hard times brought families together.
“Ew,” said Gertie.
“It’s God’s creature and he loves all his creatures,” said Agnes.
Agnes was goody-goody. Gertie was baddy-baddy.
“Good Lord,” said Mother. “What now?” It was a large centipede that had crawled out of the drain.
“Eat it,” said Gertie. Agnes said, “You have to let him outside.”
It was the 1930s in Toledo, Ohio during the Great Depression. They lived in a house with a boarder, Andy. The father worked in a steel plant.
“My water’s cold,” yelled Andy.
“Coming,” said Mother. “I just have to heat it on the stove.”
“Hurry” said Andy. “What’s for dinner?”
“Fried chicken,” said Mother.
Andy always got the biggest piece of chicken, followed by Father. The rest of them got smaller pieces. The two girls, Gertie and Agnes, and the youngest two, Charles and the baby, Daisy.
When Father came home from the plant to eat his chicken and biscuits, he told a sad tale.
“The guy next to me fell into a vat and was vaporized.” “The wife and kids are left.”
“At least they got his life insurance,” said Mother.
“No life insurance,” said Father. “The foreman told the wife he never came to work. They live nearby. Their name’s Mantellini.”
“Why don’t we make them some dinner? They must be hungry,” said Mother. “They are Italian, right? Let’s make them some spaghetti. What’s in spaghetti? Tomatoes, peppers, and garlic?”
“And slugs,” added Gertie.
Mother told Agnes and Gertie to go to the store and get the dried pasta and the vegetables on credit.
When the Mantellinis came over they were wearing clothes made of the flour bags but no one laughed.
Gertie said by way of conversation, “I heard a funny song on the radio today, it was called, ‘Yes we have no bananas.’”
The mother of the other family said, “I brought some vegetables from the garden and some wine my husband made.”
“Oh we couldn’t,” Father said.
“It really means a lot to us that you have it with us,” Mrs. Mantellini told them.
Before dinner, they prayed.
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti” said the Italian mother. “Bless us, O Lord and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Over dinner, Andy told stories of the Great War.
“It was a war in trenches. There was the mustard gas and bullets. You would run out between trenches in No Man’s Land and get shot. There were diseases like the Spanish flu.” Then he winked and said, “The only good thing was the French girls.”
“Stop that,” Mother said.
“What do you mean,” Gertie asked.
“They made nice cheese,” said Mother.
“They lined them up and shot every third man to improve morale.” Mother shot him a glance.
Andy continued. “But seriously, it was a terrible war. It was trench warfare. When we charged, we went over No Man’s Land where you got shot. There was mustard gas and so we had to wear masks. Seeing my comrades suffer and die was the worst experience of my life.”
After dinner, they washed the dishes together. They joked around about Italian food versus American food and how rough the times were.
Mother said, “I heard on the radio that President Roosevelt said the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. I sure hope so.”
They decided that the family would help the Mantellinis with food and watching the kids for awhile until they got back on their feet. The mother would work as a laundress. The kids would get jobs sweeping the streets and selling popcorn after school.
World War II came and, with it, jobs in factories and greater prosperity. They continued their friendship for many years.
© Copyright 2025 by Cecile Bianco
Image by Bernd Hildebrandt from Pixabay
