Family Stories - The Depression and WWII Years in Dad's Family

Family Stories

The Depression and WWII Years in Dad's Family

    The world wide Depression that started in 1941 had profound effect on my mother's family.  But then, New York was hard hit by the economic crisis.  California, while it was effected to some degree, did not suffer the massive unemployment and general unhappiness as much of the rest of the country.

   Harry and Lucille were divorced by 1929.  Harry was already dating and fairly soon married co-worker Emma.  Hollywood was busy during the Depression, trying to lift the spirits of the country (and make some money in the process).  Harry and Emma were busy too.  I don't find much reference to Harry, Sr. after this time.  Hopefully I can confirm his death at some point.

   Lucille's wild times didn't last long.  With no job, and her mom and new step-dad unwilling to support her, Lucille had limited choices.  She could return to her mom's farm and be a drudge like Betty, or get a job, or get married again.  Lucille chose marriage.  Her choice was an odd one, but it seems to have been a solid love match.  It lasted until his death.  Her new husband was Bill.  Originally from, as he put it, "The back hills of someplace", Bill was what Lucille would have called a hick, a country man.  He was uneducated.  But he was a good man with a big heart.  He treated Lucille like a queen.  Like her dad and step dad treated Lildon.  It was what she really wanted in a marriage.  She was done with Hollywood.  They moved to Eagle Rock, near Los Angeles, and just lived.

   Bill thought it was wrong that Lildon and Daddy Knabb (as we always called him) were raising Lucille's son Jack.  It took a while, but he eventually convinced Lucille to bring Jack to live with them.  Lildon and Daddy Knabb were sad to loose a farm worker.  Their small farm was diversified enough that they were weathering the economic crisis fine.

   Probably due to his lack of education, Bill had a hard time finding work and often it didn't last.  But Bill was a hard worker.  My dad remembers Bill getting up well before dawn to work at a chicken ranch.  I was the work he could find at the time.  My dad, Jack, has always been a hard worker.  As soon as he was old enough he started selling newspapers.  Instead of a paper route, he sold on street corners to passers by.  He said that his biggest days were when Hitler invaded a new country.  Jack was so good at selling papers that often he brought in more money to the household than Bill.  This did not help Bill's self esteem, and Jack wasn't wise enough then to not brag.

   Because of the mounting friction between the two men (and Jack's absolute boredom in school) Lucille signed Jack up for a Forest Service project up in Northern CA.  It was early 1941 and Jack was 16 years old.

   Jack always said that his Forest Service time was one of the most important in his life.  It helped make a good man out of a cocky teen.  Jack spent his time in the Yosemite-Sequoia park areas.  He and a few other teens lived with the loggers and the other workers up there.  Meals were eaten as a group, and manners were required.  Jack told the story of a teen who tried reaching across the table, rather than asking for something to be passed one time too many.  The fork scar in his hand eventually went away, but the lesson did not.  Jack got the message too.

   The loggers were rough men, but they treated the teens well enough.  Jack worked clearing brush, on fire lines, etc.  But his favorite part was when he got to go with and help the surveying team that was exploring new areas of what is now Sequoia National Park.  For a city boy who had grown up around Hollywood and the studios, it was an amazing time.

   Late in 1941 WWII started.  The Army Corps of Engineers were dispatched to Europe, but it was felt that a new organization was going to be needed for the war in the Pacific.  Since a lot of the war was going to be island hopping, the fighters would mostly be Marines and Navy.  The new organization was the SeaBees.  Recruiters for this new branch came up to where Jack was, hoping to enlist loggers, carpenters, metal workers, etc.  A lot of the men joined up.  Jack was sent back home.

   Back in Southern CA, Betty had become a beautiful young woman.  She met and married a talented con man from the midwest named Dwight, who went by the nickname of Jack.  Their son, Doug, was born in 1942.  Dwight carefully avoided military service, claiming injury. My father didn't like Dwight, especially disliking the fact that they had the same name.  But Betty was off the farm and happy.  Dwight treated her well enough and she was finally out from under the servitude of her father and step mother.

   In 1943 Jack finally turned 18.  His mom did not want him going off to war.  Signing him up for the Forest Service was one thing.  But for war!  She didn't want him going, and she certainly didn't want him joining the SeaBees, but he was 18 and making her miserable.  So she signed.

  Now when Jack went off to basic training, the SeaBees were part of the Marine Corps, so Jack went off to Camp Lejune, in North Carolina.  To this day it's still a swampy, miserable place.  Dad hated it.  What was worse was that one of his buddies let it out that Jack's dad worked for the studios in Hollywood.  Every star struck girl in the area was trying to get him to marry her.  They wanted out of the South and a chance to go to Hollywood.  It was no use explaining anything about the reality of life in the motion picture business.  Jack was glad to leave.  He called it a near miss for marriage.

   By the time Jack and his buddies graduated boot camp, the Dept. of Defense had re-aligned the SeaBees and they were now under the Dept. of the Navy.  So this bunch of guys graduated as Marines, and then had to switch to Navy uniforms.

   This bunch of new, Navy SeaBees were loaded onto a train, heading west.  My dad told the following story about that experience.  For some reason, the troop trains all stopped in this one small town in Texas.  I don't think he ever did know (or care) what the name was.  Troops traveling west would get off there and eventually get on a different train.  Same thing for troops heading east.  It was a cross roads.

  It took time, so often the various groups of troops would be stuck there for several hours.  It was a very small town, so the tradition developed of having the waiting troops parade march down the main street.  The townsfolk loved it, and it gave certain groups bragging rights.

   The particular day my dad arrived in that small Texas town there was an Army unit that had been marching up and down the street.  The SeaBees watched them, but didn't really care to challenge them.  It was nice just to sit in the shade and relax.  But then the army guys started ragging on the SeaBees, insulting them in various ways.  A lot of claiming that since they were Navy swabbies they had no idea how to march.  One of their sergeants, another former Marine had enough.  "Gentlemen, he said, "Let's how them how it's done."

   If you've ever seen Marines march, it's like watching a living organism.  They're scary good.  And with the word of the sergeant, they marched up and down that small Texas town street.  The army troops just stood there with their mouths hanging open as the SeaBees marched past, laughing.  The townsfolk cheered and cheered.  Pride satisfied, the SeaBees went back to relaxing before boarding their train to San Francisco and the War.

My dad's experiences in WWII deserve their own blog.  Look for it next week.