Depression

As I said before, this is the area where all my sisters and brothers were born, and where my mother and father are buried.

The Great Depression page 2

My father, Joseph Thomas Kennedy, was born Oct. 6, 1881 and died on April 18, 1974 at the age of 92 years and 6 months.

The picture below was taken the day we buried him at the Granite cemetery.

Standing behind my mother from right to left are my sisters, Euna Delpha (Kennedy) Lee, and Irene Olla (Kennedy) Price; and, we five boys, Eugene Thomas, Jesse William, Robert Nathan, JT, and me. At the time of this writing (Summer 2000) they have all passed on, except JT and myself.

My mother lived another 15 years until April 21, 1989. She live a hard life of 100 years and 6 months.

The countryside is divided into sections by (section) line roads one mile apart. They are, or were, dirt roads. One mile square is a section of 640 acres. The average farm in the early 1930s was a quarter section or 160 acres. Many were divided even more into 80-acre farms. It took at least 80 acres to support a growing family during the 30s. Our place was three miles north and two miles east of Granite. It was an 80-acre farm that was cut through the east west direction by a small spring fed stream running east into the North Fork of the Red River. It was there, seven years after my next brother JT's birth, that I was born, March 10, 1928, on my sister Irene's fifteenth birthday.

On the left is the first picture of me taken in November 1928 being held by my then twelve year old brother Jesse. And, on the right I am probably two years old.

The pond was always a summer hit. It was made by building an earthen dam across the small creek that ran through our 80 acres. It probably wasn't a big pond, however, as a child it seemed to be a large body of water. The pond had catfish and other water animals. At the far west end of the pond was a hangout for water snakes, frogs, and snapping turtles. They didn't bother us and we didn't bother them. At the east end of the pond next to the dam there was a diving platform built out over the water. That pond is where I learned to swim. First by falling into the water from the diving platform. With help I made it to the side of the pond. Another time I was floating in a rubber tube pushing a piece of wood in front of me. The wood had a sharp edge that eventually punctured the tube and down I went. I can still see my mother swimming out to get me as I went down for the third time. After that a concerted effort was put into teaching me to swim.

The pond was always a summer hit. It was made by building an earthen dam across the small branch that ran through our 80 acres. It probably wasn't a big pond, however, as a child it seemed to be a large body of water. The pond had catfish and other water animals. At the far west end of the pond was a hangout for snakes, frogs, and snapping turtles. They didn't bother us and we didn't bother them. At the east end of the pond next to the dam there was a diving platform built out over the water. That pond is where I learned to swim. First by falling into the water

from the diving platform. With help I made it to the side of the pond. Another time I was floating in a rubber tube pushing a piece of wood in front of me. The wood had a sharp edge that eventually punctured the tube and down I went. I can still see my mother swimming out to get me as I went down for the third time. After that a concerted effort was put into teaching me to swim.

Springtime in Oklahoma and through the Midwest brings thunderstorm with their hail, wind, rain, and, tornadoes are always a threat. In the middle of the field north of the creek a single tree was left standing as a rest spot where water was kept to quench one's thirst on a hot working day. I would lie on my back under that tree and watch the clouds build higher and higher. I became fascinated with the beauty of the billowing towering clouds. I would hold onto the ground as I gazed into the sky lest I fall up into the vastness of space. One night loud thunder and brilliant flashes of lightening woke me. My dad picked me up wrapped me in a quilt and he ran outside carrying me with him through pounding hailstones into the storm cellar under the house.

The next morning after all was quite again my dad came into the house and said, "Well, the tree is gone from the north forty. I found it down in the creek. The cyclone must have just missed the house after dropping the tree." Tornadoes were referred to in that area as cyclones. To my knowledge tornadoes have gone through that piece of land three times. I heard of the school gymnasium in Granite being struck on two separate occasions by tornadoes. The first time during a basketball game killing two players. Therefore, in that part of the country, when the rain stops and golf ball, or larger, hailstones begin to fall, get underground. There is trouble-a-coming.