Do You Want It Bad Enough?

By Garland Kingery

At a gathering on December 7, 2010, I mentioned that I was old enough to remember the Pear Harbor attack. One of the college students present commented that was so yesterday. It also transpired that the student was not at all clear about what had happened on that day. The episode revealed to me how the memory of World War II and the times leading up to it were receding from the national consciousness. Yet that conflict and the Depression preceding it formed the character of more than one generation of Americans. Garland Kingery is one of them. He was born at a time when America was a much more rural society than it is today. His memoir relates how his family and neighbors survived in the hard times of the Dirty Thirties. After the entry of America into the war, Mr. Kingery went from plowing with horses to repairing airplane engines in just a few weeks. His wartime experiences were a central part of this fascinating memoir. After the war, he married and raised children, along with many other veterans. He had a lengthy distinguished career with the State of Illinois. Many interesting observations about Illinois politics and the workings of state government are included in Mr. Kingerys story. Currently, he is retired and resides in Chatham, Illinois.

This Autobiography is an account of the history of most twentieth-century America written by an individual who contributed to that history. Those unfamiliar with the events recounted in this book would profit greatly by reading it. Those who would dismiss the experiences of Mr. Kingery and others with similar experiences should heed the admonition of George Santayana: Those who forget the lessons of history are doomed to repeat it. It was an honor for me to have been associated with this project.


Jan F. Branthaver

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463439811

Garland Kingery

Raised by his Grand parents who lived on a small farm in Springpoint Township, Cumberland County, in the state of Illinois Garland Kingery’s memoir relates how his family and neighbors survived the hard times of the twenties and “Dirty Thirties.” He tells in his own words of the horrors, excitement and opportunities of those days. His book illuminates and amplifies what life was like from the great depression to current times in historical detail. Garland’s education came from the common sense school of hard knocks. College was not an option. He shows how human imagination is a positive force without limits which can “bottom out” and make each of us reach for new heights. After America’s entry into World War II, Garland volunteered for service in the U.S. Navy. The times rapidly transformed him from a bare footed plow boy farming with horses to an aviation machinist and later plane captain of a TBM torpedo bomber aboard the aircraft carrier USS. Kitkun Bay. During the time at war he experienced many events with some being the most exciting while others were the worst memories in his life. After the war Garland married and raised children like many other veterans. He had a distinguished career in Illinois state government. Working for thirty six years for the state, Garland gained insight and observations about Illinois politics and the workings of state government which are included in this book. Currently the Author and his wife reside in Chatham, Illinois. Mr. Kingery’s story is a living account of twentieth century American history as viewed and related through the eyes of one of America’s sons who contributed to that history. His writing contains no fiction. His style is contemporary judgment bound to be anything but definitive. Garland’s humor and enthusiasm engages a great country and resurrects dreams of all of us who want to fulfill them. This book is as exciting as its title.

Book preview

Contents

Preface

Introduction

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Preface

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

About the Author

Preface

At a gathering on December 7th, 2010, I mentioned that I was old enough to remember the Pearl Harbor attack. One of the college students present commented that was so yesterday It also transpired that the student was not at all clear about what had happened on that day. The episode revealed to me how the memory of World War II and the times leading up to it were receding from the national consciousness. Yet that conflict and the Depression preceding it formed the character of more than one generation of Americans. Garland Kingery is one of them. He was born at a time when America was a much more rural society than it is today. His memoir relates how his family and neighbors survived in the hard times of the Dirty Thirties. After the entry of America into the war, Mr. Kingery went from plowing with horses to repairing airplane engines in just a few weeks. His wartime experiences are a central part of this fascinating memoir. After the war, he married and raised children among with many other veterans. He had a lengthy, distinguished career with the State Of Illinois. Many interesting observations about Illinois politics and the the workings of state government are included in Mr. Kingery’s story. Currently, he is retired and resides in Chatham Illinois.

This autobiography is an account of the history of most of twentieth century America written by an individual who contributed to that history. Those unframiliar with the events recounted in this book would profit greatly by reading it. Those who would dismiss the experiences of Mr. Kingery and others with similar experiences should heed the admonition of George Santayana: Those who forget the lessons of history are doomed to repeat it. It was an honor for me to have been associated with this project.

Jan F. Branthaver

Introduction

Garland A. Kingery

This book is written by a farm boy who grew up during the Great Depression. My grandparents raised me on a small farm in the Spring Point Township, Cumberland County, in the state of Illinois. I tell, in my own words, the horrors, excitement, and opportunities in spite of all the negatives that came forth. I illuminate and amplify what it was like from Depression to prosperity to Depression in historical detail. While the human imagination has no limits, it can also bottom out and make each of us reach for new heights, life’s fulfillment, and self satisfaction. But, you’ve got to want it bad enough! I was a barefooted plow boy, a political public servant, a dedicated military person, executive, hard-nosed investigator, salesman, elected public official, and he even contributed to the first generation of computers. These are just some of the examples of my soaring dreams and high aspirations.

This book contains no fiction. My style of contemporary judgment is bound to be anything but definitive. The enjoyment of writing from memory and attempting to reduce to some sort of logical and coherent order, I have wondered if my readers might not be interested and perhaps amused to find events and circumstances, which they may also remember well. My humor and enthusiasm engages over a great country then resurrects dreams of all of us who want to fulfill them. The book is as exciting and engaging as its title.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to:

My mother Mabel

Grandparents Alfred and Melinda

Wife Mary Ellen

Son Ken

Daughter Kaye

Grandchildren David and Lisa

Thank you all for the opportunity, love, care, happiness and support. It was and always will be my aim in life to try to do as much for you as you have done for me.

Acknowledgement

It would take too much space to express my gratitude to all who helped me make this book possible. With their insights these individuals have saved me from making unintended mistakes.

I owe a special gratitude and thanks to Mr. Toby Althoff (now deceased) and Mr. Howard Jack. Toby was my classmate, teammate and captain of our basketball team. He was a dear friend and gave me the inspiration and spark to write this book. He called me long distance before his death and said: King, write that book! Howard Jack is a very dear friend who volunteered to type my handwriting into something readable. I’m sure he did not relish reading my Palmer method. Much like Toby who gave me the spark to write this book, Howard kept the heat to my heels to finish it. I am fortunate to know these men of exceptional talent and character. Thanks, guys!

Finally to my relatives and hundreds of friends whose names or places I did not mention, I am genuinely sorry, for I love you all. I hope you understand I did not want to say anything in my book that would not represent your wishes, heroics, deeds, and friendship. Without all of you I could never have made it. The words are my own, and I apologize if there are any misstatements. My dates may be a little hazy, but I take full responsibility for all of the material.

Preface

I have always believed that you can do anything or have anything in this world, but you have to want it bad enough. You see, I have to believe that because it has been my life’s style for three-quarters of a century plus ten years and it has never let me down. Selective knowledge of the past can make us see ahead and set goals that we never thought were possible and also release forces within our power that we never knew we had. Or maybe we just want the simple things in life, as we are living today, without the knowledge of the past or the future.

I feel really fortunate to have been raised from childhood by my grandparents who were real pioneers, as their parents before them. I gained unlimited experience from their teachings and work ethic. It seemed as if they had lived in a depression all of their entire lives. Their teachings helped prepare me for the Great Depression and a reminder of the grim future and for what it was going to be like to be a child with adult responsibilities. So, I was prepared to hit the ground running.

Permit me to share with you some of my experiences and how things were back then as we walk the walk and talk the talk together on the stepping stones of life for the next three quarters of a century plus ten years.

I hope you find my book interesting, and informative, and maybe a little humorous at times. I believe that the material in this book is reasonably accurate.

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I’m ready. Are you? Let’s get after it.

Chapter I

Reading, Writing, Arithmetic and More

That sounds like a pretty sassy title and seems to infer that the writer must be a wise guy! Let me hasten to say this work is based on self-defense. I have been inspired to write this book after reading many stories of others who lived through the hard times of the late 1920s and early 1930s. My reason for this is to share with you some of my experiences during those hard years. I know it has been said before, but I believe it’s worth repeating again, you can have anything in this world, or do anything in this world, but you have to want it bad enough! I believe this with all my heart and soul because it has not failed me in over three quarters of a century. I also believe very strongly that no person can feel inferior for very long before they have to do something about it.

This book, covering my experiences, spans many years beginning in the early 1920s. I do not want to sound like a Wiffle bird that flies backwards to see where he has been, rather than where he is going, but maybe that is not all bad. There is nothing new in the Ten Commandments, but they are referred to in most churches every Sunday. Sometimes we only need to be reminded of the things we once knew and may have forgotten.

Born in the state of Illinois in 1923 on a farm in Spring Point Township, Cumberland County, I was raised by my grandparents and spent one-quarter of a century living and working on their farm. We lived in a modest six-room house with no electricity, running water or heat in the upstairs portion of the house. We farmed eighty to one-hundred acres using horse-drawn machinery. The iron-horse had not yet arrived in our area during my youth except for the steam engine, which only came once a year for thrashing.

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My Grandparents, my heroes

We raised nearly all types of livestock, but sheep were our primary animals, usually well over one hundred head. Our income was somewhat limited since we had to depend on selling lambs, sheep wool, and a few hogs, chickens, butter, milk and eggs.

My mother was a very kind and loving person. Her work ethic was unequaled, regardless of the type of work whether it be farming, working in the hospital, or even babysitting. My half sisters Eleanor, Evelyn, Marcella, and my half brothers Gale and Curtis were just super and had many of my mother’s good traits. Curtis and Evelyn are now deceased. It is not important that I spent less than a month of my entire life living with my family as our love and thoughts were always with each other.

Later in life, especially during my retirement years, our family visited frequently. My mother lived to be just a few months short of her one-hundredth birthday. My neighbors and friends gave money to plant a tree in my front yard in her memory, so that I am reminded of her each day I open the door. I need no reminders as I remember my mother and my grandparents each day in my prayers.

Failing to mention my dear friend, Ray Thomas, of nearly sixty-five years would be inexcusable. Ray was a special friend and we shared both the thick and thin together. Every single thing we did together was always a challenge. It could be working, playing golf, bowling, pool, hunting, fishing, playing checkers, digging worms for fishing, or even working graveyard shifts just to make ends meet. Usually we were about equal in our challenges. I want to concede one challenge, Ray; you are the champ in hunting bull frogs. I could not get over the excitement about going out at midnight wading in strange creeks or lakes in lily pads and water up to our mouth while those snakes came sliding by under your nose in the dark. It got no better when you

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Eight years at the best education institution center on this side of heaven.

thought you had a big frog cornered and you moved in for the kill, turned on your flashlight, and stood eyeball to eyeball with another snake. I would not be surprised if Ray was not catching those slimy creatures and putting them in his pocket to make the environment more attractive just for me! Our families were close friends and spent many happy times together. Thanks for the memories, Ray.

Where I lived, the roads were all dirt and mostly wagon trails. The nearest town was over four miles and our post office was seven miles from our home. There were hills, a creek, and a lot of timber nearby. This may not sound like a pretty picture, but believe me, it was paradise. Our farm had rolling green hills surrounded by rail fences and a significant amount of timber. There was also significant evidence of the work which was done by early settlers. However, there was still work to be done during a period of economic scarcity.

Now I would like to reminisce about my grandparents who were real pioneers as were their parents. My grandparents had previously raised a family of six children when I had arrived on the scene. I feel very fortunate to have been raised by my grandparents and I was provided more opportunities than most people. I gained unlimited experience from my grandparents’ work ethic and teachings that were handed down to them by their parents. It always seemed as if they had lived in a depression for their entire lives. Their method of teaching helped me prepare for the Great Depression and prepared me for what it was going to be like to be a child with adult responsibilities. So I was prepared to hit the ground running.

My memories of preschool days are somewhat vague, but I am sure everyone remembers our first day of grade school. I set my goals early, since I did not like sitting at a desk all day. My goals were:

Goal #1: Grow strong enough by the beginning of fifth grade to carry a three-gallon bucket of water about one mile three to four times each day for my schoolmates to drink. There was no water on the school grounds, so a farm home ¼ mile away was our water source. I was given the job of carrying water sooner than expected, and in addition, a second job of carrying coal to fire the school’s furnace. The girls in my class were really weak and not offered this distinguished position.

Goal #2: Always be ranked first or second in my class (my aunt set this goal for me). This goal was a cake walk! It was no big deal when there were only two of us in the same class for eight years.

Goal #3: Graduate from grade school and start farming.

I am proud of the fact that I accomplished all of these goals, especially ranking in my class.

Our little red brick schoolhouse was like a home to me. The maximum enrollment while I was there was thirteen students. It was located at the edge of a timber with a creek running behind the school. The schoolyard was not grass, but instead small trees and briars that had been mowed before the beginning of each school year. There were blackberry vines, thistles and other types of strange vegetation. It was a dare game to walk on the schoolyard because the stubbles would puncture your bare feet on the first step. The real test came when you held up your hand to get permission to use the outhouse. It was torture to get to the outhouse and when upon arrival and opening the door, one would be met by a welcoming committee of hornets, wasps, and yellow jackets which gave one a welcoming to remember. How would one avoid them? Well, there was a reason the school was built at the edge of the timber. It was a lot more welcoming!

There always seemed to be three major events during the school year – Valentine’s Day, the annual Christmas program, and a pie supper. Without a doubt our Christmas program was one of the highlights of my life. It gave me confidence, character, and taught me the importance of teamwork. We had to make all of our decorations. Some would be coloring; others would be cutting, pasting, or decorating our own cut tree. We looked forward to the Friday afternoons that preceded Christmas as we all got together to practice our own Christmas show.

The second important event marked on all Farmers’ Almanacs was the annual school pie supper. This was a social event in which all the girls baked pies and brought them to school to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Everyone tried to buy his sweetheart’s pie. I never had much luck getting to eat with my sweetheart as my quarter was never enough money to be the high bidder.

Another important and exciting time was when we