Exploring Hydrocarbon Depletion
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When you don’t have much to start out with, sometimes it’s the littlest things in life that bring you joy. It then becomes all that much harder to lose what’s left. We begin this segment with Thelma at a young unspecified age, in the foothills of Appalachia.
“Roosevelt was the best president we ever had. He came from a family of wealth, and so did Elenaor, and yet he went out of that class, and went down to the people who had nothing. He would go to West Virginia university and hire these students who hadn’t graduated, but were higher classmen and he could give them money, like WPA but for students.
-skip backwards to the young years-
We had to go down to First Club (sic) to get in this arts class. So, this girl was sent in to teach us how to weave baskets, so we made those for the first two or three days, and the next project we had to do was to draw. We were to try to blend colors that compliment each other. We were each supposed to draw a picture of anything that we wanted to draw,
but try to keep our lines straight, and have it be something we believed in. So everybody sits down at their little desk, and you know me, I drew a butterfly. Orange, yellow, black
on the wings, course on just a small piece of paper. These were all turned in to the teacher, who would look them over, and then the kids would raise their hands to show which one they like the best. I won with that picture. So what I won, was a beanbag.
So I went home, and of course us kids enjoyed throwing it at each other, get them in the head, or the back, you never knew where the person was hiding and you’d get hit. (I assume this is where the term “beaning” someone came from. You learn something new every day. That’s a saying I have picked up from this wise woman.) But we had a lot of fun with the darned thing.
Well one day, it come up missing. And I looked and I looked all over, I knocked on people’s doors and asked “Have you seen my beanbag?” It was just a little printed piece of material, with the beans in it, and nobody had seen it. Well, I finally decided that it’s gone, maybe it went in the river or something. So, one day I was making a run for one of my sisters (Thelma is the 13th child in the family, born on Halloween.) or maybe it was for the black man who had commited suicide. (This is from another story this session that will be transcripted later.)
I found the material lying against the wall of one of the coal houses, but it was empty. It was all wet and dirty, but I recognized the material. I bent over to pick it up, and sure enough, it was my beanbag. I ran back home to momma, and said “Mom! Mom! What happened to my beanbag?” She said “Well, it’s empty.” “Yeah, but what happened to it?”
“Well how would I know?” she replied. “Wouldn’t you know if one of the neighbors had beans or not?” “Well there’s lots of people that live in those shanties.” So of course I keep bitching about the loss of my beanbag. So finally, that evening my mother was doing something, oh right she was checking for lice in our hair. We’d have to sit on the ground, with her in the chair, and she’d part our hair like this, and we could hear the snap of the shells pop as she went through. (gross.) After she did all she could, she’d rub kerosene on our heads. Well I’ll tell ya JP, I’ve had a hard life.
Anyhow, I said “Mom, you ever find out what happened to my beanbag?” “Haven’t you forgotten about that yet?” was the reply. “No, it was mine.”
“Well let me tell you something honey, there’s a lot of people that don’t have any food. They’re not as lucky as we are.”
I really didn’t know what is was like to be hungry, because we had different ways of finding food, and just simply making do. We had a small garden, my brothers hunted for squirrel and rabbit. The government had also built a community building. So I didn’t really have that kind of problem. I hadn’t connected the fact that other people were starving to death, and they would see my beanbag as food, and not a toy.
It took me a long long time to know what it was like to really be hungry. And the girls (family) yell at me for feeding Stoney so much. (Her very large dog, beast has to weigh in at over 100lbs.) I said I will never, ever have anything around me that can’t eat. I think that the cruelest thing that can happen is to be without food.”
Novus wrote:The whole peak oil...end of the world thing is starting to get to me. I can't tell you how angry I am at past generations...
Novus wrote:The whole peak oil...end of the world thing is starting to get to me. I can't tell you how angry I am at past generations. Nothing against you or your grandmother personally.
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