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During the pre and post world-war years and until the late 1960s the old south end of Columbus, Ohio was a very blue-collar community that was heavily populated by single income families of mostly hard working dads, strong and determined stay-at-home moms and lots and lots of children; neighbors who knew each other's names and whose kids went to school together, played outside with one another almost every single day and who grew up with a sense of values not commonly seen now but were mandated by tradition. Life in the south end back then was exactly that; carrying on long traditions with a sense of pride even though most of us were of average means while many struggled. Those who did struggle to keep food on the table and a roof over their family's head were just neighbors of people who had more, no one was outcast or forgotten because they may have had less and all anyone expected was to live in harmony and share a proud community. A few were people of great wealth but I didn't know any, only some that had much more than our family and they were usually the oldest people still around who could tell stories of the turn of the century and how the neighborhood began and their families' role in founding it.
There were butchers and bakers and probably even candlestick makers by the dozens and very few doctors or scientists and even fewer lawyers or for that matter very few men who went to work wearing a suit or driving a car that might cost a year's salary for most working people. It was not a community of professional people or fancy homes and most of the noise that was made came from the mouths of kids between the ages of 3 and 13. But then around 1965 things began to change and by the early 1980s everything did. It was that first sign of what was to come back in the mid 60's when a man named Frank Fetch visioned a community that would be named German Village and become not only one of historic preservation but one that would attract a flow of money into the area that would eventually price blue-collar families out of the market and scatter them to other far-a-way neighborhoods and other towns. Homes when my family settled here in the late 1950s could easily be purchased for about what a man could earn on his job in a year or two. Most, including the fanciest of them could be had for somewhere between 8 to 15,000.00 and only very few would have sold for more than that. Homes on my street that would sell for a quarter of a million dollars now were probably lived in and owned by factory workers earning less than $3.00 an hour in 1960. Wrap the math around your head and realize that bare minimum wages today are only a little more than twice that amount and the dollar itself is worth less than a tenth of what it was then. A house that may have cost around $10,000.00 in the late 50s might be offered for sale for 30 times that price now. If those who lived in it more than 50 years ago who were able to pay the mortgage, a bank loan for a car, the utilities, medical expenses and what it costs to raise anywhere from 2 to 7 children as was common then tried to make it here today, that one paycheck they received on Fridays would not even come close to being enough today. That check was probably just over $100.00 a week and it was enough to maintain a prideful lifestyle and the traditions they wanted to keep; today it might not even pay for the gasoline they might need.
To keep up today with the lifestyle they led then one might need a salary way north of five figures and in a community where blue-collar jobs were once plentiful and could be had sometimes by just asking for one and filling out an application all that is left is memories for some of us who were here then. The jobs that are close by are mostly minimum wage and those that offer more require higher education than just enough schooling to figure things out. My own dad had only a 7th grade education but he supported a large family on the salary of a meat packer at a local slaughterhouse. He also paid cash for a new 1956 Ford and paid off his mortgage in about ten years on a salary that didn't climb above $10,000 until the 1980s. This old neighborhood of bricks that he and other dads brought their families to back then has certainly been changed by its economic structure and the character of its residents, but not enough that I don't recognize every brick in it and not nearly enough to make me want to leave it until the choice is no longer mine.
My latest publication; "Christmas Cards From Home" is a compilation of musings and short stories about how it was for those of us who were here before the vault-loads of new money began to flow on these century old and older streets and back-alleys; my stories and the recollections of many others who were here including some that haven't been back home in decades is a history book; written the best way we know how, accompanied with snapshots of a very good time and place to carry on some of the traditions that were so important to us and to remember just how good life was when we were surrounded by more people we wish we could see again. That era before the technology revolution that sent us all to desk-top, lap-top or hand-held devices to know what others are up to or what we should expect from one another now.
By comparison to how things are now, what we had then was more like the 1800s than the 21st century because we still had many around us who were born in that century who tried their best to teach us the ways of old. So in this age of new and newer, and in this time when not nearly enough about our heritage is discussed, this book aims to be one that mocks the trends of a hurry-up and shop and eager anticipation of a generation that seems to want to be known for having more, even at the expense of letting bygone eras stay back there in the past as we plunder our way onto the next big things; it is a collection of descriptions and feelings that those of us who want to hold tightly onto have, especially during this time of the year. For about the price of a monthly magazine that might be bought, read and soon forgotten it brings back something that won't be completely forgotten, something that will endure for years to come. Documentation that things were better than they ever will be again for many of us. The photo shown here was taken on the evening of December 7, 2014 and when that horse and wagon came down Mohawk Street I imagined an area that aside from the number of people and modern vehicles probably looked this way more than 100 years ago; the clip-clop sound of that horse's hooves on the bricks would have been one that no one would have turned to even notice back then. That horse is an ancestor too! Those people in the wagon are dressed differently than any who would have taken that ride before most of us were even alive, and they could have chosen a more comfortable way to go where they were headed but they didn't because they wanted to feel something else. This book does the same thing.
Read more here-
http://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Cards-Home-South-Columbus-ebook/dp/B00Q7L3R38/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1418235687&sr=8-1&keywords=rick+minerd+christmas+cards+from+home
