A blessing preceded each meal, even when there was insufficient food to eliminate hunger. Corn meal in various forms became a family staple. Sometimes after supper, his mother gathered her four children around a pump organ in the front room to sing hymns, which took the edge off unsatisfied appetites.
Dr. Clif CleavelandChristened Walter, my cousin became "Chief" to family and friends. He is my window on the broken economy of the rural South in the 1920s and early 30s. Years before the stock market crash of October 1929, markets for cotton and corn collapsed, thrusting many farmers into dire poverty. No alternative work existed in West Georgia where Chief and his family lived on a small farm. They were fortunate in not having to surrender their property for unpaid taxes and debts. Chief recalls days when hungry people, some accompanied by children, walked the road in front of their farm and came to their door to beg for food, a request always granted by his mother.
Farmers could no longer afford gasoline for their cars. Chief remembers a neighbor who regularly polished his 1915 Pierce Arrow sedan which sat on blocks beside his house. Arranging an advance of $5, Chief and his two brothers purchased an unused Model T Ford with the money, hitched a team of mules to the car and towed it 12 miles to town where the lender purchased it for $10. Other, similar transactions followed. For a time, the brothers' car business provided the only income for the family. Medicines for their father took a portion of the earnings.
Chief and his siblings concocted a plan to stage a possum barbecue. One or two nights a week they set out with a part-beagle to track possums. Releasing their dog, they listened for its baying, signaling that he had treed a possum. Arriving on the scene, their sister would light a lantern, using its reflector to locate the possum, which usually climbed onto a lower limb of the tree. While the light distracted and temporarily blinded the critter, one of the brothers quietly climbed the side of the tree that was in shadow and edged within reach of his prey. He used a forked piece of wood to slip a noose quickly over the head of the possum, which he steered into a burlap bag that one of his siblings held open beneath the limb. The possum was secured by loosely wrapped rope around the bag.
The hunters kept the possums in a coop, fattening them on corn meal mush. The diet improved the taste of the meat. "Black-jack" possums, which had a shiny black coat, were prized in the area. Their meat was alleged to be especially healthful. One night the hunters bagged two of the uncommon animals.
Once their inventory of possums had been built, their sister drew and distributed leaflets that advertised a date for a barbecue in the family's yard. The meat was slowly cooked over hickory embers. Ten cents purchased a serving of barbecue, turnips and corn bread. A serving of black-jack meat cost a nickel more. Skins from the black-jack possums were displayed below the pan containing that meat. The enterprise netted precious dollars and created a brief respite of fellowship for neighbors.
With little evidence, a visiting nurse suspected that Chief's family might have tuberculosis. She arranged for their transport to a regional sanitorium. After several months, the family returned home, having been "cured." Chief wondered in later years, if the nurse had not used this ploy to provide the family with rest and a nutritious diet.
President Roosevelt's New Deal gradually revived the economy. Chief and his brothers served in the Army during World War II. Because of engineering aptitude, Chief completed his service at the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico where the U.S. detonated its first nuclear weapon in July 1945.
Following a civilian life of honorable work, Chief is in his sunset years, a kind and gentle man with a wealth of wisdom and humor. He begins each meal with a blessing.
Hunger is not a problem of the past. Hunger affects all ages in urban and rural settings. We can personally address hunger in our communities through our support for the Chattanooga Area Food Bank and the Chattanooga Community Kitchen.
Contact Clif Cleaveland at ccleaveland@timesfreepress.com.