Last week marked the beginning of a new series of articles. For those of you who may have missed it, shame on you. I'm kidding folks, but to reiterate the premise of my upcoming sequence, it will be a narrative of local history, specifically of my grandparents' generation.
Interest in this subject was sparked when I came across a four-page, hand-written document composed by my grandmother. In it, she wrote of finally getting hot running water - after she was married. For entertainment she mentions Gene Autry, the Lone Ranger, and the WLS Barn Dance. She mentions maybe having visited a movie theatre once or twice a year.
As I mentioned last week, I grew up a half-mile from my grandparents. In my youth, I was exposed to the stories of my elders, but paid little heed. As time goes on, I find that these tales become invaluable - certainly, this is a time in American history that does not deserve to be forgotten. As such, I have conducted a series of interviews with people from the community - people who I am proud to call my friends.
They represent a generation that grew up in traumatic times. They were children during the Great Depression and entered young adulthood during World War II. They have witnessed radical social, economic and technological change. This series of articles is dedicated to them - those who grew up on or near farms, yet were among the first to fly.
It is important to think about what America looked like in the 1920s. Before we talk about growing up in rural Wisconsin, let's look at America from a broader perspective.
The 1920s and 1930s is sometimes referred to as the "Transition to Modern America." Technologically, nowhere is this transition more evident than with the airplane. A modern flying machine in 1919 was the Curtiss JN-4, commonly known as the "Jenny." This two-seat biplane became a trademark for barnstormers, and was a boxy, flimsy-looking thing that would probably fly backwards if the headwind were strong enough. Fast-forward to 1940, when the P-51 Mustang was first being developed. In just two decades, progress in aircraft engineering cranked out nearly 1,600 horsepower and a top speed of 437 miles per hour.
While America was growing technologically by leaps and bounds, her domestic atmosphere retained a noticeable tone of innocence. Family was focal, needs were simple. In 1926, one of the most rebellious acts a young girl could do was the Charleston, and I promise you, an 18-year-old doing the Charleston in 1926 would be covered in considerably more clothing than the average seven-year-old in 2008.
The Arts flourished during the 1920s with notable names like Ernest Hemingway, T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound fleeing the US as expatriates. Authors who stayed home appeared equally cynical of contemporary American life (note F. Scott Fitzgerald's 'The Great Gatsby'). Ironically however, despite these authors' condemnation of American culture, their prose seemed to indicate that America was intellectually coming of age.
While the cultural elites were scrutinizing American society during the 1920s, everyone else was just plain having fun.
Excitement and enthusiasm for thrills spilled beyond professional sports and into the grassroots of the private sector. Citizens cheered when Charles Lindbergh touched down in Paris, and when Gertrude Ederle swam the English Channel. Locally, peculiar events were held like six-day bicycle races, dance marathons and flagpole sitting.
Domestically, the explosion of automobiles made it easier for America's youth to escape parental supervision. In 1920 there were 10 million cars in the US - by 1929, 26 million were on the road. This unprecedented mobility ushered in a new era of rebellion, especially among young women, who traded traditional Victorian standards for the new-age image of the "Flapper."
Young rebellious women in the 1920s cut their hair short, hiked their skirts above the knee, rouged their cheeks and smoked cigarettes and drank alcohol publicly - unheard of. The divorce rate "soared" to about 16 percent. People were having fun; technology was taking off, yet traditional values still held fast to American society in the 1920s.
Although it is important to keep in mind as a pretext, I am less interested in statistics than I am the personal story of my grandparents and friends from that generation. Starting next week will be a series of narratives from that period of time between the wars, when Monroe had four grocery stores on the Square.
This is the world that Ken, Jim, Carol, Daryl, Ruth, and others grew up in. This is a time when my grandmother worked for a farm family for $2 a week. She fed chickens, cooked and washed dishes, did laundry, and made all the beds. Her day started at 4:30 a.m. and she worked Monday through Friday. She was 15 years old.
I have no idea how long this series will last; I am constantly conjuring up new ideas and references, and am certainly open to new perspectives. Over the past couple weeks I've interviewed a handful of people from my grandparents' generation. I consider it a privilege to hear their stories, and then write them up.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes
a weekly column for Friday editions of
the Times. He can be reached
at dwegs@tds.net.
Interest in this subject was sparked when I came across a four-page, hand-written document composed by my grandmother. In it, she wrote of finally getting hot running water - after she was married. For entertainment she mentions Gene Autry, the Lone Ranger, and the WLS Barn Dance. She mentions maybe having visited a movie theatre once or twice a year.
As I mentioned last week, I grew up a half-mile from my grandparents. In my youth, I was exposed to the stories of my elders, but paid little heed. As time goes on, I find that these tales become invaluable - certainly, this is a time in American history that does not deserve to be forgotten. As such, I have conducted a series of interviews with people from the community - people who I am proud to call my friends.
They represent a generation that grew up in traumatic times. They were children during the Great Depression and entered young adulthood during World War II. They have witnessed radical social, economic and technological change. This series of articles is dedicated to them - those who grew up on or near farms, yet were among the first to fly.
It is important to think about what America looked like in the 1920s. Before we talk about growing up in rural Wisconsin, let's look at America from a broader perspective.
The 1920s and 1930s is sometimes referred to as the "Transition to Modern America." Technologically, nowhere is this transition more evident than with the airplane. A modern flying machine in 1919 was the Curtiss JN-4, commonly known as the "Jenny." This two-seat biplane became a trademark for barnstormers, and was a boxy, flimsy-looking thing that would probably fly backwards if the headwind were strong enough. Fast-forward to 1940, when the P-51 Mustang was first being developed. In just two decades, progress in aircraft engineering cranked out nearly 1,600 horsepower and a top speed of 437 miles per hour.
While America was growing technologically by leaps and bounds, her domestic atmosphere retained a noticeable tone of innocence. Family was focal, needs were simple. In 1926, one of the most rebellious acts a young girl could do was the Charleston, and I promise you, an 18-year-old doing the Charleston in 1926 would be covered in considerably more clothing than the average seven-year-old in 2008.
The Arts flourished during the 1920s with notable names like Ernest Hemingway, T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound fleeing the US as expatriates. Authors who stayed home appeared equally cynical of contemporary American life (note F. Scott Fitzgerald's 'The Great Gatsby'). Ironically however, despite these authors' condemnation of American culture, their prose seemed to indicate that America was intellectually coming of age.
While the cultural elites were scrutinizing American society during the 1920s, everyone else was just plain having fun.
Excitement and enthusiasm for thrills spilled beyond professional sports and into the grassroots of the private sector. Citizens cheered when Charles Lindbergh touched down in Paris, and when Gertrude Ederle swam the English Channel. Locally, peculiar events were held like six-day bicycle races, dance marathons and flagpole sitting.
Domestically, the explosion of automobiles made it easier for America's youth to escape parental supervision. In 1920 there were 10 million cars in the US - by 1929, 26 million were on the road. This unprecedented mobility ushered in a new era of rebellion, especially among young women, who traded traditional Victorian standards for the new-age image of the "Flapper."
Young rebellious women in the 1920s cut their hair short, hiked their skirts above the knee, rouged their cheeks and smoked cigarettes and drank alcohol publicly - unheard of. The divorce rate "soared" to about 16 percent. People were having fun; technology was taking off, yet traditional values still held fast to American society in the 1920s.
Although it is important to keep in mind as a pretext, I am less interested in statistics than I am the personal story of my grandparents and friends from that generation. Starting next week will be a series of narratives from that period of time between the wars, when Monroe had four grocery stores on the Square.
This is the world that Ken, Jim, Carol, Daryl, Ruth, and others grew up in. This is a time when my grandmother worked for a farm family for $2 a week. She fed chickens, cooked and washed dishes, did laundry, and made all the beds. Her day started at 4:30 a.m. and she worked Monday through Friday. She was 15 years old.
I have no idea how long this series will last; I am constantly conjuring up new ideas and references, and am certainly open to new perspectives. Over the past couple weeks I've interviewed a handful of people from my grandparents' generation. I consider it a privilege to hear their stories, and then write them up.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes
a weekly column for Friday editions of
the Times. He can be reached
at dwegs@tds.net.
