Roosevelts New Deal (Depression era) and the Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck (government at its best?) The Agricultural Adjustment Act (AAA) was a United States federal law of the New Deal era which restricted agricultural production by paying farmers subsidies not to plant on part of their land and to kill off excess livestock. Its purpose was to reduce crop surplus (food) and therefore effectively raise the value of crops. The money for these subsidies was generated through an exclusive tax on companies which processed farm products. The Act created a new agency, the Agricultural Adjustment Administration. (food ) input by me. excerpt: From the Grapes of Wrath: And a homeless hungry man, driving the roads with his wife beside him and his thin children in the back seat, could look at the fallow fields which might produce food but not profit and that man could know how a fallow field is a sin (CRP) and the unused land a crime against the thin children. And such a man drove along the roads and knew temptation at every field, and knew the lust to take these fields and make them grow strength for his children and a little comfort for his wife. The temptation was before him always. The fields goaded him, and the company ditches with good water flowing were a goad to him. I added the CRP. My dads response to the government agent that came to see him: Im a farmer. If I cant farm, why would I want to be out here! And so eventually he left and moved into the town. also an excerpt from The Day they Killed the Cows by Dan Fields. There were a lot of hungry people in the United States during that time, and some of them were folks we knew. Ideally, a program such as this would have provided food for those people; but as in all government undertakings, there was a flaw in this one-regulations prohibited using the meat, which nobody understood. The cattleman, however, soon discovered that the government shooters were sympathetic and left before the ranchers finished burying the cattle, giving each of them the opportunity to save meat from a calf. At first the general public knew when and where the killings were going to take place, and dozens of people came to the sites, which interfered with the work. Some of them even got into the slaughter pens and fought over the meat while the shooting took place. This had to stop; so the schedule of the government men was kept secret. Only the people who owned the cattle knew the date when their animals were to be shot. Small groups of neighbors were assigned a date and location to take their cattle, in order to expedite the slaughter-only they knew the date of the killings. The morning came when we were to deliver our cattle, so we were up before daylight. Dad, my brothers and I saddled up on our horses and drove them three miles to a neighbors place where we met three or four others with their small herds. The first thing I did was to pick a ring-side-seat on the roof of a shed by the main corral, where I could see everything that went on. I didnt intend to miss a thing. I had heard so much talk regarding the event about to take place, that in my childs mind; it was beginning to look like a sensational and exciting adventure. When the government man came, the cattle were counted and sorted according to age and condition. After the paperwork was completed, the ones to be killed were herded into the large corral, cows and calves together. The stage was set. The government man went to his car and took out a pump .22 caliber rifle and lots of shells. He carefully loaded his gun, smoked his cigarette, and stepped into the corral as casually as if he were going for a walk. There were a dozen people watching; but the only sound was a cow bawling for her calf. Every eye was glued on the shooter. He was standing right below me; and I jumped when he chambered a shell into the gun. He raised the rifle-a sharp crack rang out; a cow crumpled and fell on her side, legs jerking. Three seconds later, Bang! Another cow went down-and another-and another-and another! Within a minute fifteen cows were dying before my eyes. I suddenly realized that I was in the wrong place. Hot water came up in my mouth, and I had and awful felling in the pit of my stomach; but I couldnt leave; I was afraid I would be called a sissy if I let anyone know. The man slowly reloaded, let his un cool for a minute, then the slaughter continued. Shot after shot rang out. For me the calves we the worst part. I shut my eyes part of the time. Finally, it was over and I started to breathe again. Within fifteen minutes, out of more than a hundred animals, not a cow or a calf was standing. The shooter calmly unloaded his rifle, got in his car and drove off. The work for dad and the other men was just beginning. The dead animals had to be dragged away from the corral to a deep pit, which had been dug previously by the ranchers, then covered with dirt. The work wasnt over: the carcass each rancher had saved had to be butchered. I didnt have much to say on the way home. I was numb. The calf which dad and my brothers had butchered was hung on the windmill tower for the night, to cool and be cut up and canned the next day. Canning in those days was putting the meat in jars and pouring hot grease over it. When it cooled, it solidified, sealing the meat. However it became rancid if kept to long. We cut off enough fresh beef for supper that night, but it didnt taste good to me. It had been a long, sickening day. I went to bed early; but I didnt sleep well. Dreams of dying cattle kept waking me. I did not realize, at my age, that the same slaughter was taking place every day at hundreds of locations, all over the southwest. Thousands of cattle died. This was a terrible ting for anyone to witness, especially for a seven year old child. That happened more than seventy years ago, and many time, through the years, I have shut my eyes and vividly recalled the sound of the shots, the bawling of the cattle, the fear in the eyes of the animals, as they seamed to realize what was happening- but most of all; the shots ringing out, over and over and over. Everyone my age can tell you where they were when they heard the Japaneses had bombed Pearl Harbor. They can also tell you what they were doing when they heard that President Kennedy had been shot. I can also remember a third event, which I recall with the same clarity, I know where and what I was doing in 1934, the day the cattle were killed.
Posted on: Sun, 03 Nov 2013 18:57:05 +0000
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