Finding Work in the Depression

I began to look for work as soon as possible for I had very little money left and I wanted to pay my way and not be a burden on anyone. But I found out that there were a lot of people out of work and jobs were hard to find. The depression of 1929 had begun. I often walked from 17th South into town to save what little money I had. After three weeks of tramping after illusive jobs I became quite disheartened.

I received a call from Heber City from an Elder Don Clyde who also had been a missionary. He wanted me to come there for a visit, so wanting to postpone the frustrations of job-hunting, I went to Heber City. Don and Catherine Clyde had two children. The youngest was born on my birthday, October 13, so it was little more than a month old. He was blessed the Sunday I was there and named Robert. I was in Heber for a week and from there I visited Coalville with Clara Copley. We had been pen pals a number of years. Her father had been a missionary in Bristol too.

By the time I got back to Salt Lake City the Christmas season had started and I was able to get temporary employment at Kress's Department Store but was laid off again at the end of the shopping season. At Christmastime, after a little persuasion from my Aunt, I consented to be housekeeper to my Cousin Rose Capel's family. Rose had passed away two years earlier and her husband, David Cherrington, was having a hard time with house­keepers. I had lots of relatives and friends in Salt Lake City and they were all so good to me. The Checketts whose son, Joe, was still in the mission field in Bristol, brought me gifts and invited me to their home quite often, the Karl Browns, the John E. Wahlquists in Murray, and many, many others. Ellen Forward Wheat, my dear Welsh friend of earlier days, was now married to Jimmy Wheat and living in East Mill Creek. I spent many hours with her.

She took me to Provo one day to visit the Thatcher family. They immigrated to Utah in 1924. Mrs. Thatcher's brother was in the real estate business and he had purchased a home for them and then helped them with their fares. Sister Thatcher was telling me what a struggle they were having. Then after we had eaten with them she took us down in her basement and I was filled with astonishment. There must have been close to a thousand bottles of fruits, vegetables, jams and pickles. A deer carcass was hanging from the ceiling. There were sides of bacon, hams, a stack of 50 lb. sacks of flour and a hundred lbs. of sugar and dried beans. I just couldn't believe my eyes. I had never in my life seen anything like it. I couldn't understand how anyone could say they were hard up with all that food on hand. Now I understand what they were trying to tell me.

My friend, Jimmy Thatcher, died in 1927. We corresponded from the time of his leaving England until the time of his death. I learned from the family that Jimmy's heart’s desire was to work and save enough money to send for me in the hopes that I would become his wife. I had no idea he thought that way about me, for to me he was just a dear friend.

I stayed as housekeeper to David Cherrington for two months. There were five children. They were very well-behaved but David kept pressing me to marry him and was making quite a nuisance of himself so I left and went to live with Aunt Gertie. She was my father's half sister.

Uncle Steve and Aunt Gertie were wonderful people. They had five children, the oldest a girl named Lillian, was working for the telephone company. The next, Frances, had graduated from high school and was looking for work so we tramped the streets together.

One night after a tiring and disappointing day, the family had gone to the park nearby (I didn't want to go). I went to the bedroom I shared with Frances and Lillian. I knelt down and poured out my feelings to the Lord. I asked Him if he would open up the way for me to find work. Somewhere in the Scriptures (Doctrine & Covenants, I think) it says before you call, I will answer, and that is what really happened. The next morning a letter came from President Widtsoe. In it he said, "I haven't heard from you so I don't know what your circumstances are, but I am enclosing a letter of introduction to a friend of mine and if you need any help finding work, he is just the man you should see." I was almost overcome with astonishment and gratitude.

           That afternoon I walked from twenty first South to third Avenue where Brother Widtsoe's friend, Roy Bullen, lived. When I arrived at the address, which was a corner house, I was quite chagrined to find about 20 to 30 cars parked all around the house. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to go up to the door and knock because it looked like a party was in progress and yet I didn't want to walk all the way back without seeing Mr. Bullen. I walked to the end of the block and back several times then stood on the corner and said a silent prayer. Then I felt a hand upon my shoulder. I turned to see who it was. He was a tall man and as I turned he said, "Can I help you?" I hesitated, thinking it was someone trying to be fresh, then he said, "My name is Roy Bullen. I live in this house and I have been watching you from my office window. I felt impressed to come out and speak to you." Well, I was so overcome I almost burst into tears. I just couldn't say a word for a moment. Noticing my emotion, he took me by the arm and led me to the back of the house to a small sitting room or den. He explained that his wife was entertaining her literary club. After I was seated he excused himself and was gone about five minutes. That gave me time to compose myself. When he returned he had a tray of light refreshments that he set before me. While I was eating he asked in what way he could help me. So I gave him Brother Widtsoe's letter. After reading the letter and chatting a little while, he called a Brother Evans, asking him if he had an opening at the plant for a friend of Brother Widtsoe's. The answer was "yes" and I could start the next morning at the Coalville Ice Cream Plant. Brother Evans was an older brother of Richard L. Evans. Brother Bullen then drove me home to Aunt Gertie's. You can imagine how happy I was.

I enjoyed my work at the plant. I learned to make ice cream pies which were in great demand for parties, also Eskimo pies and lots of other good things. Some of the girls were rough talkers but they were very kind to me and respected my way of life. When they found out I had never tasted watermelon, one day they bought one and we enjoyed it at lunch time. One day they took me to a Chinese Restaurant for dinner (my first). When the warm busy days started I was able to get Frances a job there and we were able to go to work together.