About Work

By Bill Shepard

The President has said that he plans to put Americans back to work. Good! That might be the hardest task he has before him. A lot of people have learned to get along without working. I have heard some folks bragging about earning more money by begging on a street corner than by working on a low pay job. What has happened to American pride?

Work is an honorable thing! I still remember the feeling I had on that first day long ago that I reported for work at the big cotton mill at the west end of the town of Darlington. I could not have bee more proud if I had been elected mayor of the city! Of course, I had learned what work was before then. As a small boy, I had worked in the farmer’s fields, picking cotton, working tobacco, ploughing in the good earth and doing other odd jobs. I had worked at the little store near the village on weekends and after school hours. I liked to work and to earn the money I spent! At the end of that first day in the big mill I had earned two dollars and sixty cents. I was as proud as a person could be and I whistled all the way home!

People are supposed to work! When God led Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden, he told Adam that he would “earn his living by the sweat of his brow.” God then cursed the ground so that it would not bring forth good food unless it was worked. That curse still exists today and that is why I have to work and sweat to make my garden produce edible food! Many centuries later the Apostle Paul said that if a person didn’t work he should not eat! Wow! Given that choice, I think that most people would work!

I can remember a time right here in the good ole USA, if a man didn’t work, he could face starvation! You see we haven’t always had a government that was able to do for the people like it does today. Nor have there been charitable groups, supported by the people, for folks to turn to in time of need. This writer can remember the days of the Great Depression when hunger and starvation stalked the land like a hungry wolf! If a man didn’t have a job, he and his family were at the mercy of his neighbors! I was a boy at that time but old enough to remember!

Cotton mills were at a standstill all over the south. If a person heard of an opening anywhere, if a way was found, they would travel to that location in search of work. Their common way to travel was to hobo a freight train! The mill in Darlington was operating one and two days a week, or when they could have orders for that cloth that was made. I have vivid memories of those days.

To supplement his earnings, my dad worked on the WPA (Workers Progress Administration). At the end of a day at work, workers were paid fifty cents and what commodities the government might have. Due to the Dust Bowl out west (1935) cattle were shipped to the east and slaughtered to be canned and given to workers on various projects. Wheat was also made into flour and distributed among the workers. When dad would bring a sack of flour home my mom would place a nickel in my and I would go to the store for a can of Calumet Baking Powder. No self-rising flour was given!

There are beautiful buildings still standing, some in Darlington, that were built by those workers. County, state and national park all over America are evidence of their work. We survived but much work and sacrifice went into the effort. Some would say that it really took a World War to break the grip that had hold of the national and the world.

Mr. President, there is plenty of work to be done! Our highways and bridges are in need of repair and new ones need built to relieve traffic jams.

Good luck, Mr. President in getting America back to work! By the way, I will find my own job; I always have!

Mr. Shepard is a native of Darlington, S.C., and a current resident of Piedmont, S.C. He is the author of “Mill Town Boy” and “Bruised”. He has been sharing his tales of growing up in Darlington for decades, and we are delighted to share them each week. His mailing address for cards and letters is: Bill Shepard 324 Sunny Lane, Piedmont, S.C., 29673

Author: Duane Childers

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