In the dark lecture hall, I see Willie's slide of Walker Evans' famous photograph of the graveyard near the steel mills in Bethlehem, PA, and remember my final high school years spent there in the midst of the city's economic depression of the 1980s as the last factories were closing. I see the slide of a hobo and remember my great uncle's story, told to me from his hospital bed near the end of his life, about riding the freight trains for free to get home to the Midwest from college in the 1930s. I see a slide from the Dust Bowl in Oklahoma and remember my hot sweaty summer as a 14-year-old working on my grandparents' farm there, before the farm was sold and they passed on. I think of my other grandfather, who escaped from Russia to the prairies of Canada in the late 1920s, just in time to live through the Depression here in the Americas. Where will we be if, in our privileged lives so far removed from the soil, we forget these things in years to come?
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2 comments:
Eloquently stated--and illustrated. Sadly, I think these things already are forgotten (if ever learned) by many. Where will we be? I suspect many of us may learn what hunger is, and then we'll do as we always do, return to the garden (or pots!) and see what we can grow for ourselves.
interesting article. Boooowak
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