Depression-Era Narratives in Their Own Words
The talk of the time reflects the dominant narrative. Here is a Depression-era
letter to the Boston Globe’s “Household Department—Where Women Help
Women—Confidential Chat” column, a sort of Twitter, Weibo, or Reddit from
another era, where women would write and advise one another under
pseudonyms. The following letter appeared in March 1930, six months after the
1929 stock market crash:
Dear Mikado—In one of your recent letters asking for a budget you said that
your savings had been wiped away in the recent financial crash, so I am
addressing this letter to you as we surely have something in common, only in
my case we not only lost what we had but are deeply in debt as a result.
However, my problem is this: we can pay back this money in about 10
years if we continue to live practically as we are now living, that is, in our
present home, by practicing rigid economy. Of course we could move to a
cheaper house, live on only the bare necessities of life and get out of this debt
sooner, but what I would like you, Lanceolata, and any of the other sisters
who will write to tell me whether you think it wise to do this.…
I am afraid to move, for I fear the moral effect on us. Our standard of
living will be lowered and I am afraid to think of the readjustment and the
effect of such a move on our spirits, our courage and outlook on life. This
may not seem very brave, but unless one has been through such a period it is
hard to realize the strain and the worry and hard to keep a calm outlook on
life … Chryold.2
When one has neighbors like Chryold, who are desperately hanging on,
showing off with extravagant consumption would be seen as deeply
unempathetic. It is noteworthy that the writer introspectively refers to “our
spirits,” which calls to mind Keynes’s idea that depressions are caused by
declines in “animal spirits.” Her decision whether to sell the house is framed in
such psychological terms: she has to manage her family’s spirits. Managing
people’s spirits was an important theme of the era’s talk, from the common
American to the nation’s leadership, from individual heads of households to the
president of the United States, Herbert Hoover, who spoke optimistically and
encouraged optimistic talk in others.

It seems highly likely that Chryold’s family and many other families in a
similar (or worse) situation would postpone buying a new car. Realistically, the
children in each family would receive almost no signal that the family is in
financial trouble if their parents postpone the purchase of new car. However,
they would notice canceled vacations and canceled trips to the movies.
Indeed, concerns about family morale became a new epidemic after 1929,
peaking in 1931 but staying high for the rest of the Great Depression. (There had
been an earlier rush of stories about family morale during the 1920–21
depression also.) The rising divorce rate was attributed to the loss of morale,
especially the shame of a father who was unable to find a job.3 People
considered this loss of morale as a new long-term problem in the making, a
problem that might become increasingly significant in the future. A women’s
group in 1936 asserted:
The family is the unit upon which our whole American system of living is
built.… Any collapse now of its morale or loss of its solvency will have a
disastrous effect on posterity.4
This narrative justified postponing unnecessary expenditures while
maintaining an attitude of normalcy, but in doing so it contributed to prolonging
the economic depression. It also offered a reason for families not affected by the
Depression to avoid conspicuous consumption, in deference to the perceived
suffering of other families and the outlook for more of the same. Newspapers
offered suggestions for maintaining the family morale without spending much:
Frequently, if resources are at a low ebb, much may be done by rearranging
the furniture, changing the positions of heavy pieces (always being careful to
maintain a perfect balance in the room) and moving pictures into different
spaces. Many a woman by dint of some ingenuity along this line, has secured
all the benefits of a trip without leaving her own four walls. Her outlook on
life has been cleaned and pressed, in a manner of speaking.5
Listening to people’s stories of the Great Depression in their own words also
offers striking insights. In Only Yesterday (1931), Frederick Lewis Allen spoke
of a more modest countenance and deeper religiosity, of “striking alterations in
the national temper and ways of American life.… One could hardly walk a block
in any American city or town without noticing some of them.”6 Rita Weiman, an