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| Photo courtesy of American Memory, Library of Congress |
It’s difficult to imagine the
difficult life and times America endured in the 1930’s. The weather turned against farmers with a
drought of historic proportions and dust storms compared by some to the wrath
of the Almighty. Times were hard, money
scarce, and people were hungry. Things
became so bad in Oklahoma some folks, like a fellow from down around Sallisaw
way named Charley Floyd took up a life of crime and families like the fictional
Joads in John Steinbeck’s classic novel The
Grapes of Wrath packed up and made their way to California as fruit tramps
and migrant workers. In our time, in
these early years of the 21st century, we have issues too and
economical problems. A lot of American
live in poverty but few at the deep levels many experienced during the Great
Depression.
Imagine how it must’ve felt to watch
your crop die in the fields, brown and wasted.
If your livelihood for the coming year and your income depended on the
crop, most people would feel desperate. If you’re the sole support for your widowed
mom, younger brother and three little sisters, you’d probably do whatever you
could to make ends meet and keep a roof over their head.
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| Photo courtesy of American Memory, Library of Congress |
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In my latest novel, a historical
romance set during the 1930’s, Dustbowl
Dreams, Henry Mink decides he’ll do what he must. Here’s the blurb and then an excerpt from the
novel coming out Monday September 17 from Rebel Ink Press:
Life’s never easy for a good-hearted man who
decides crime is the answer to his troubles.
No rain
in the summer of 1933 is bad news for Oklahoma farmer Henry Mink. The local
banker wants the mortgage on the farm paid and unless Henry comes up with the
dough, his widowed mother and four young siblings won’t have a home. Jobs are scarce so he decides to rob a
bank. His sweetheart, school teacher
Mamie Logan, doesn’t like the idea and neither does Henry’s kid brother Eddie
but Henry’s out of options.
He
leaves home and robs a bank at nearby Ponca City. When he returns home, he pays
off the mortgage but new troubles show up. Mamie is his greatest joy and they
become engaged but by fall, Henry has no options left but to rob another
bank. If he can pull off one another big
job, he figures he’ll be set until the hard times are over but few things in
life go as planned. His desperate
efforts will either secure his future or destroy it forever.
If
Henry’s family survives and Mamie’s love endures, he’ll need a miracle.
Excerpt:
They walked behind the house and
past the big barn. A foot worn path led
into the field, but a fork veered off right.
As they drew closer to the spring, the path narrowed and the number of
trees increased. Beneath the cover of
the trees, out of sight of the farmhouse, Henry put his arm around her slender
waist. They managed to walk together
down the single file trail to the spring and settled onto the rustic bench near
the water. Henry straddled it so he
could face her but Mamie sat in a side saddle posture. Before he could lean forward to snatch a
kiss, she reached over to rub his cheek with the back of her fingers.
“Tell me you were just being silly a
while ago,” she said. “I’ve been worried sick you meant what you said.”
Her touch kindled tenderness, but
deep in his crotch Mamie’s fingers lit another fire and he inhaled hard. “I did mean it, girl. When I got back to the house, Richardson from
the bank sat there, fedora on his knee, badgering Mama for money. He’s planning to foreclose and take the farm
unless we come up with the money by the end of July. We sure as hell don’t have it and I don’t
know of any other way to get it.”
Mamie’s eyes darkened almost
black. “I could ask Daddy, Henry. I don’t know if he has it or not, but he
might.”
“No,” he said, spitting out the word
with force. Then he used a softer tone
to add, “I appreciate it but I ain’t taking your family’s charity. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll rob a few banks, pay off the mortgage
for Mama, get ahead, save some money and then I’ll quit, no harm done.”
“It’s wrong,” Mamie said with a
troubled expression. “You know it is, Henry.”
He did, but damned if he’d admit it
now. “What’s wrong is people getting
kicked off their families’ land where they’ve lived for generations,” he
said. “Banks are wrong to wring the last
nickel away from folks. It’s not right
for kids to go hungry or old people to do without. I don’t aim to get rich robbing banks, just
take back enough to get through these hard times. If I can help a few people on the way, I
will. And I don’t plan to kill no lawmen
or shoot anyone.”
“Oh, Henry,” Mamie said and sighed.
“I know almost everybody’s having a terrible time and no one has enough
money. I don’t think the banks are being
fair either, but two wrongs won’t make it right.”
“Money’ll go a long way toward
fixing it,” Henry said.
“There’s not enough money in the
world to make up for it if you get hurt,” Mamie said. “Or if some sheriff hunts you down to take
your life. You could end up in prison
down at McAlester or dead like Pretty Boy’s bandit friend, Birdwell. Your mama would just be heartbroken if
anything happened to you. So would Eddie
and the girls. Think about them, Henry.”
Mamie might be a smart young lady,
but she didn’t understand, not yet anyway.
“I am,” he said. “I’m doing this for
them. I can’t let them be put out on the
road without a home or go live with stingy old Uncle Ed. And I’m worn out watching them go to bed
hungry or do without almost everything.
They all need shoes and I don’t think poor little Vi’s ever worn a brand
new dress.”
She grasped his hand and held it so
tight it hurt but he liked the connection.
“Let me help them, then. I can
sew. I saved some of my teacher salary
and I could buy some cloth. I wouldn’t
have enough to pay off the farm, but I could make the girls some nice little
dresses or something.”
“Honey, I appreciate it but I can’t
let you spend your money on my folks.
Mamie, you don’t understand how poor we are, do you?”
“I think I do.”
“What’d your family have for
supper?”
His question seemed to surprise her,
but she answered. “Mama fried up some
salt pork and ‘taters. She opened up a
jar of corn she canned last summer and made a nice apple pie with some dried
apples. Why?”
“We ate green beans seasoned with
old bacon grease and onions with cornbread,” he answered. “I don’t think any of us ate enough to fill
our bellies or even liked it much, but by God we ate everything Mama
cooked. Hunger don’t allow for being
picky.”
Mamie’s expression shifted. “That’s all you had?”
Henry nodded. “Yeah and some nights,
it’s even less. Mama meant her garden to see us through summer but the pickings
are pretty slim. She waters it with the
dish and bath water or it’d be gone, too.
We don’t have anything left to butcher and the few chickens still alive
and kicking won’t lay eggs. The milk cow
died last winter and we haven’t kept pigs since Daddy died. I’d hunt but it’s too damn hot for the meat
to be much good and ‘sides, everyone else’s about hunted the game till it’s
gone. I pull a few fish out of the
river once in a while, but not many fish left either.”
He spoke with bitterness in a
harsher tone than he’d ever used with Mamie in an effort to drive his point
home. To Henry’s surprise she didn’t
bluster with outrage but scooted across the bench and put her arms around
him. Mamie put her head down against his
shoulder and he held her against him.
“Henry,
I didn’t have any idea it was so bad,” she said. “I guess my head’s been in the clouds and I
missed what’s right in front of me.”
“You haven’t been home from the
school year very long,” Henry said. “Things changed for the worse over the
winter, honey.”
“I feel awful, though,” she
murmured. “Maybe my kids in town, in
Alva are just as hard up and I didn’t see it. None of the families I took turns
boarding with were as poor as your family or they didn’t seem like it.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Henry said.
“This ol’ Depression’s hitting everyone hard, but I think farm folks like us,
just barely getting by anyway, got hit the worst so far. It ain’t your fault you didn’t see it. Your family’s doing better than most and you
should be glad.”
The book trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDHvAZpzso0&feature=share&list=PL46F5B6D40AF2895E
Dust Bowl Dreams can be purchased at
the following e-book retail outlets: Amazon.com, Barnes&Noble.com,
BookStrand.com and AllRomanceebooks.com.
MY LINKS
leeannwriter@gmail.com
Twitter: leeannwriter
Facebook: my personal page is Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy plus I
just kicked off an author page – From Sweet to Heat: The Romance of Lee Ann
Sontheimer Murphy
Website/blog: http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogpspot.com
Blog: Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
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