A Great Depression

 

Today I stood in a line for my money when only a week ago I was working a factory job. “It’s going to be a secure job,” my father had told me. He beat away my dreams day by day, telling me my crazy ambitions would never follow through, telling me my dreams would let me down in the end.

“If you get a job at the factory it will be a job you’ll have forever, people will always have yards and they will always need to be mowed.” He assured me the little push mower factory would never go under.

“Most people can’t afford to buy our mowers anymore, and we just can’t afford to pay you to make them for those who can. It’s just too small of a market.” They said things would get better but so far, form what I’ve heard on my neighbor’s radio things are only getting much worse. They keep saying this is a serious depression and millions are out of work and more and more businesses are failing everyday. But somehow the news people stay hopeful in the face of our national adversity. Perhaps it is because they aren't here; they don't see what I see every day. All of my surroundings are failing; all of the five companies I tried to get a job with in the last week were failing and going under.

And so it is bare desperation that has lead my wife to the bread lines and myself to seek unemployment. Gradually I feel my own great depression coming down around me.