Why Me?
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The Deep South in the 1930s and 1940s proved difficult for many families, plunging most into the depths of poverty, and yet, somehow I survived when so many others in my life didn't.
But, Why Me?
Fr
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Why Me? - Charles C. Hood
INTRODUCTION
I guess everyone feels that they have a unique story to tell, some more important than others.
I suspect that mine isn’t that important and most likely isn’t interesting enough to read.
But at my age (86), I have a strong desire to put down on paper something of myself. For whom, I don’t know.
Maybe my grandchildren and great grandchildren will get a kick out of some of it.
Normally, we think of our lives as beginning at birth. I know that literally, it does. But the influence on our life’s journey and outcome is really tied to our parents and grandparents and before.
Just think how different your life might have been, had you been born into a rich or poor family. All of the seemingly important things in life—faith, education, culture, social status, and wealth—would have been vastly different.
And yet, everyone somehow seems to survive. It is difficult at times to determine which outcome is best. I suppose that it varies at different levels.
The Big Idea
being presented in this book is a story about one of many people that made it out of the depths of poverty in the Deep South during the 1930s and ’40s. And the influence it had on my life.
BUT, WHY ME?
Why did I make it out, when so many others in my life didn’t?
I hope that the answer is in my story.
-Charles C. Hood, Jr.
1
THE BEGINNING
My life begins on the poor education, but somewhat strong faith level of the spectrum, and with very little hope of anything of any value coming of it.
I was born into a very poor country family, used as slave-type labor, but got a second chance in life by joining the military.
Then my second life began!
With this starting point and background, you might guess how our family was raised: No communication, no interpersonal experiences; no home learning, no exposure to education or the importance thereof; no music experience; no reading books; and no knowledge of the news of the events of the day or of government.
We lived in a wooded country environment in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, with no hot water, no inside bathroom, and a single-wall-constructed house with no closets.
The house was about 600 square feet with a back door and a front door and four equal-sized rooms, with one window in each room. Hanging from the center of the ceiling in each room there was a single light with a pull string. The house had a tin roof with no insulation and no air circulation. It was extremely hot during the summer heat, and very cold in the winters.
We lived in a community called Hollywood, located about halfway between Rome and Lindale, Georgia. I believe the name came from a Cherokee Indian clan.
The only major thing that still has the word Hollywood in it is a church, the Hollywood Baptist Church.
Maple Road runs from Rome all the way to Lindale. It is the main street between the two towns.
About halfway from Rome to Lindale there is a street called Betts Street. There were about 10 or 12 houses on Betts Street and it dead-ended into Davis Street. Davis was a short street with three houses. We lived in the middle house on Davis for a few years then moved around the corner to a house on Betts street.
Mother had eight children. One of the children, Carolyn Ann, died soon after birth. She was born March 21, 1939, and died April 6, 1939.
Seven of us survived to adulthood.
My dad, Mother, Naomi, Larry, Robert, Lee, Jane, Me, Charlotte-Early 1960sMy dad, Mother, Naomi, Larry, Robert, Lee, Jane, Me, Charlotte-Early 1960s
I am the next to oldest child and the oldest of four boys, Frank Lee, Robert Edward, and Larry Gene. We have three sisters, Charlotte Dolores (her nickname is Snookie), Jane Elizabeth, and Naomi Nadine.
2
THE EARLY YEARS
My name is Charles Corbin Hood Jr.
I was born May 19, 1936, in a little crossroad place called Alabama City, Alabama. It’s north of Birmingham and close to the northwest Georgia border.
I believe my dad was working in a cotton mill at the time of my birth. He was an inside machinist. In a cotton mill he was a loom fixer. During the Second World War he was an inside machinist in a shipbuilding plant in Mobile, Alabama.
I was maybe three or four years old when we moved from Alabama to the Rome, Georgia, area. I don’t know how long we stayed there, but it wasn’t very long. Shortly after moving to Rome, we moved to Central, South Carolina. It wasn’t a long distance.
Actually, Central isn’t even close to the center of South Carolina. Central got its name from its geographical location halfway between Atlanta, Georgia, and Charlotte, North Carolina, based on the railroad line miles. When we left Alabama City, Alabama, the only thing that I remember of my beginning days was sitting close to a window in a vehicle watching things as we passed by them. I’m sure that I had no idea where we were going or why.
I believe that Dad went to work for a short time in a cotton mill in South Carolina then moved to the Floyd Cotton Mill in Rome. That would have been when we moved to Hollywood.
He was a loom fixer at the Floyd Cotton Mill for several years and was making a pretty good living, but due to a union strike, the mill eventually shut down.
Grinding Mill, Lindale, GAGrinding Mill, Lindale, GA
Dad was very involved in the union and was committed to the strike. He was the local union leader and had to go up north, normally to Detroit, for union meetings. I understand that the union convinced most of the workers at the mill that by striking, they could force the owner to meet their demands.
The strike went on for many months and finally, the corporate decision was made to close it for good.
Apparently, there were some serious fights between the union and non-union people at the mill. People were hospitalized and cars were turned over.
The American Federation of Labor (AFL) union, which later joined with the Congress of Industrial Organization (CIO), wasn’t hurt much as a result of the mill closing because the mill in Rome was relatively small.
My dad was never again involved with a union after that experience in Rome.
The local workers were devastated!
Hundreds of already poor people lost their jobs and had nowhere to go. The timing was horrible because it was around 1940-41 during the nation’s Great Depression and before the boom of jobs brought on by our country’s involvement in the Second World War.
Many war needs had to be met—from food products to aircraft and ship building.
Hundreds of thousands of our young men left to fight in the war. And when the job markets opened up, there was a major shortage of men to fill them.
It was the opportunity of a lifetime for the women of America. And they made the most of it.
Women were hired to do almost every kind of job you could imagine—electrical, welding, tool making, and all manufacturing positions, including the building of ships and aircraft.
It was at the end of the Great Depression in America. Families went hungry and our family was no exception. But finally, Dad was able to get a job at the shipyard in Mobile, Alabama, as an inside machinist. The pay was great. But it only lasted a couple of years.
After the war ended, Dad was out of work for several years and had to take low-paying jobs to survive. I remember at one point he was selling produce from his vehicle, door to door.
He had an old truck with the bubbled headlights on the front fenders, a Plymouth, I believe.
We kids had to straddle the headlights and scream out Produce for sale! Tomatoes! Lettuce!
or other kinds of produce.
He had an old set of spring-loaded scales on the back of the truck for weighing the items. We would work with him all weekend. In general, it was fun.
During my early years, up to about five or six years old, I was a sickly child, having several major medical problems, primarily dealing with my lungs.
I eventually became stronger, but I was small and didn’t develop as fast as the other kids my age. Even at age 17 when I joined the Navy, I was only 5’2" and weighed only 126 pounds. It took another three years or so before I grew taller and increased my weight.
The military was good! When I retired from the Navy in 1974, I was 5’11’’, weighing 175 lbs., and had a 29-inch waist.
Me in UniformMe in Uniform
I don’t really remember much of my childhood. I know that we were poor and that I wore overalls instead of the clothes that many of the other kids wore.
I remember having only two pairs of overalls and two or three T-shirts. All hung on nails on the wall. We all had one pair of tennis shoes each, the high top kind. I don’t remember getting much for holidays like Easter or Christmas, but we generally received a shirt or some other item to wear as a gift at Christmas time.
The girls seemed to get nicer clothes; Mother would make them dresses and they got different shoes. Most kids in our neighborhood didn’t have much, so it wasn’t a major deal.
As far back as I can remember, the older kids had chores.
Mother cooked on an old wood-burning iron stove in the kitchen.
Iron Stove like My Mom’sIron Stove like My Mom’s
From about age six I had to get up each morning and bring the wood in for the fire in the kitchen. In the winter, it was very cold.
But believe me, our work was nothing compared to what our mother did day in and day out.
She did all the cooking, cleaning, and washing. Everything was cooked from scratch because there was no money to purchase readymade stuff from the store. And all the cleaning, washing, and ironing was done by hand.
Generally speaking, the boys were required to do all the outside work, and the girls were responsible for helping inside.
However, early on, most of the kids were small and were not able to help much. My older sister, Snookie, and I were the two that did most of the work.
There was always something to do every morning before and after school.
Dad wasn’t that interested in our schoolwork. He believed that it should be done at school and not take up time at home.
At one point he even instructed the teachers not to send my homework home because I had responsibilities at home and no time for schoolwork. But we were still expected to get passing grades.
I believe that we were all good students. I suppose we helped each other, even though I don’t remember any specific times when we worked together.
I cannot remember a time when my mother or father had any discussion relative to any subject. They never talked about anything between themselves or with us.
My dad never treated my mother as an equal.
We were never exposed to information about political news, nor science, math, nor any other subject.
I don’t remember anyone in my house reading books. But I do believe that Snookie was a reader.
There was no TV, no newspaper, and no magazines. However, we did have an old standup radio in the front room.
Sometimes Dad would let us listen to a program before bedtime, but not often. Actually, we all seemed to prefer playing outside in and around the woods before bedtime.
Our normal routine was to get up, do our work or job and go