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Depression story

My Grandmother’s Depression Story

The usual person gets four natural grandparents. Naturally, I got five. Or six. And for this Depression story, they were all in one body.

Both of my father’s parents passed away before I was born, victims of his absence during World War II as he fought the Germans on their own soil. My mother’s father died when I was six months old, a coincidence I believe, or so I have been told. [Free Membership required to read more. See below. ]

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One Response to My Grandmother’s Depression Story

  1. Joseph Skinkis October 7, 2012 at 5:15 AM #

    I could really visualize your Grandma especially this part: ” Whether I had a cold or not, she would appear with the jar of Vicks VapoRub to give my chest a good coating, her hands scarred by the nuns from her three years of schooling, by her four years in the comb factory, by the five years at Westinghouse, by the years she spent washing and cleaning and baking and sewing and making do.” Thanks for sharing.

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