Life of a Gardener in 1934 - A Memoir

46 comments by Luke Marion

A memoir as written by Clyde Finch,

It was August, in the year 1934, The Great Depression had hit hard, and times were tough for everyone, but I found solace in the soil and the satisfaction of growing my own food. August was the hottest month, and it was particularly hot and dry. Not as dry as Oklahoma, but dry enough to the point water was being rationed as to not run the well dry. The well we lived on was a bit more fortunate due to the low elevation. We received about 4 gallons of water per hour from the well. Plenty enough to satisfy our needs, but not enough to take for granted.

We lived in a small farming community on the outskirts of town, in Greenfield Indiana. I found it to be particularly challenging to make ends meet, just due to the lack of work, and the time it took to get into the city. But our local farmers co-op assisted in providing some seed to grow our garden and fill it with the staples our family loved to eat. I learned through my father how to save seeds, and we were all encouraged to save seeds to ensure enough supply for anyone who needed some. I wasn't great, but one doesn't get great overnight. 

I woke up early every morning, before the sun had even risen, to tend to the chickens, the one cow which gave us milk and butter, and my garden. I was very fond of my garden, and truth be told I enjoyed it more than other farm chores because it was calm, the smell was rich, and the sun wasn't hot. I worked tirelessly, planting, weeding, and harvesting. I had a wide variety of vegetables growing, from tomatoes and cucumbers to peppers and squash. I also had a small plot of corn, which I was particularly proud of. Our neighbor Jane Sutherland would sit on her porch and say, "I think your corn grew another inch last night!" which I believe it did. My secret was using the chicken droppings from the coop. They were free and the plants seemed to spring out of the ground whenever I used them. She was keen to give me compliments, since she knew I would bring her some zucchini in exchange for a small tray of her famous crinkle cookies. 

Despite the struggles of the times, my garden flourished. I was able to feed not only myself but also my family and even some of my neighbors. It was a small thing, but it brought me a sense of purpose and pride. My entire family would join me in canning the harvest when it came time. Canning tomatoes was an especially memorable time. Myself as well as my wife and 4 kids would sit around peeling tomatoes all morning. By noon, we would add all the tomatoes to a big pot, place it over the stove, and let it simmer for hours. Once the tomatoes had simmered, Dorothy my wife, would add 1 teaspoon of vinegar to every quart of tomatoes. It was hard to come by lemons so we used vinegar instead. Then we would jar them up and place them in a hot water bath to seal properly. 

Speaking of vinegar, if I may digress for a moment. Was used to make one of our kid's favorite summertime recipes. Vinegar lemonade. We would mix 1/4 cup white vinegar with a 2 tablespoons or three if we were splurging with sugar. We added that to a pitcher of cold water and what a treat. There wasn't anything I savoured more than to come in from working the field all day than a glass of vinegar lemonade. Continuing on. 

I also found a sense of community in the other gardeners in my area. We would often share tips and tricks, and even trade seeds and seedlings. It was a tight-knit community and we all looked out for each other. We would meet in the small church in town to share each other's seeds and harvest. I saved mustard seeds, tomato seed, and August was too early to bring my town famous butternut squash seeds, but they would be ready in late October after a killing frost. The seeds I would bring would be traded for canned goods, as well as other seeds I was unable to save. There was a gentleman by the name of Clark Holmst who would bring fresh apples, the most crisp and sweet apples you have ever tasted, and he would trade me 5 apples for 20 tomato seeds. 

I fervently believe it was community that helped pull us through the hard times. The hard times shaped us, but didn't define us. We built many great memories. Sometimes I almost miss those days. They were simple, had their trials, but the simple things seemed so valuable back then. 


46 comments


  • Gina

    My mother was a small child during ww2, they had to flee and leaving everything behind when the bombs were falling.
    Her mother, my grannie, raised bunnies for fur and meat, but had to leave all in a hurry. She started a new garden where they settled and gave away to the neighbors as well. It was hard work to survive in Finland during the war. My mother had to help with the weeding, and still today she hates it…lol…but I love my garden and learn more each season. We live in Sweden, so we have a long cold season as well…not too easy to grow all things in time. But you’ve got to try…we will need all weggies in the hard times to come….Blessings to you all


  • Julia Gladfelder

    I grew up in Iowa in the Depression. We grew a garden in any space we could find. We trade vegetables for things we couldn’t grow. There was always something to give to others in need. Canning was a family project. Corn and beans had to be processed for two hours. We even kept pork chops in crocks filled with lard. No one got sick.
    At 92, I still plant a sharing garden to give to neighbors or food banks. Hard times brought us closer together. I treasure the memories.


  • Gloria Layton

    When I was a small child in the 1960’s, my grandmother had small bags of seeds tied in small cloth bags hanging on nails on her side porch. She would open them, dump some in her left hand and run them saying these were my mommy’s seeds. She was a devout Gardner with many stories about life, never complaining about the depression, but thriving on passing her knowledge and stories to me. She lived to the ripe old age of 104, only taking an aspirin a day. I loved her so.


  • Gail

    I grew up in West Tennessee (in the city) during WWII, and remember we had a “victory” garden in our small backyard. It was a wonderful and valuable experience; I still garden to this day. I subscribe to MI Gardener and enjoy his comments on gardening.


  • Penny

    My grandmother lived in Northern Ontario through the depression. A little town called Mactier. She was a widow with three kids, and grew potatoes in her front yard. The railway was a big part of the work available in the area, but times were tough, so the men would come down from the railyard at lunch for a boiled potato. My grandmother would go and get the neighbour, Mrs. Gostick, just to be safe. The two would serve anyone who was hungry and needed a meal.

    My grandmother came from a family of eleven. She raised 3 kids in that house all by herself. I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing she charged a small sum for feeding them, because she had mouths to feed. All three kids went on to do great things. My Nana was pretty tough and very very good at pinching pennies!

    Growing up in a family of 11 in 1895 (her birth) was hard. She told me all kinds of stories. She was a devout Christian and a tea totaller, but I’m pretty sure her brothers were all a bunch of rapscallions. It sounds like one of them used to be involved in some shady liquor dealing lol. Anyway, my uncle Henry (god rest his soul) sent a guy from the rail yard (who was looking for a drink) down to my grandmother’s house at lunch. When Nana heard what he was after, she said ‘just a minute’ and went back inside. A minute later she was back and tossed a boiling kettle of water at him!! My uncle Henry loved telling that story. To the last day o this planet, I’m not sure Nana ever forgave him for his devious practical jokes.

    Oh my gosh. Times were so different back then. Between pumpkins and potatoes, I’m pretty sure many a life was saved during the depression.


Leave a comment

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published