Having been raised in a blue collar, working class home where the men in the family were up before the sun was – and having spent the day in the fields or the log woods and being exposed to hard manual labor at an early age – I have always had great respect for the working people. And, although many years ago I took the path less traveled, I still consider myself one of them.
In the 1940’s, there were few safety nets and fallback positions for the people I was raised among, and they needed little motivation to put their hands to the plow. They had just come out of the great depression and they were glad to be working. They knew about hard times and did whatever it took to keep the wolves away from the door.
That meant the fields had to be plowed and prepared, and that the crops had to be planted and cared for, or there would be no harvest to sell in the fall and no money to see the family through the rest of the year.
It meant that the trees has to be felled and cut up and hauled to the sawmill or there would be no pay envelope coming on Friday afternoon.
That meant that, whatever it took and however long it took to do it, you were on the job. No excuses, no alibis. Unless you were sick enough to stay in bed, you were there every day doing your work because, if you didn't do it, there was nobody else who would.
You were responsible for putting food on the table, feeding and educating your children, and keeping a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs, because if you didn't nobody else would.
If the roof was falling in on your house and your kids went to school in ragged clothes, it was nobody's fault but yours.
If the bank called your loan and you lost your land, you had nobody but yourself to blame.
Nobody else was going to plow your fields or harvest your crops. Nobody was going to magically appear and log your woods and haul your timber to market.
It was on your shoulders, in your hands, it was your responsibility, period.
Admittedly, it was a tough and demanding way of life when viewed in retrospect, but at the time it was accepted as the norm and it fostered a breed of men who were capable, resourceful and able to take the storms of life in stride without complaint or petulance. Men who could grow a garden or build a new barn, who disciplined their children and paid their bills, whose word sealed with a handshake which was more binding than anything any high-priced attorney could ever draw up.
read more:
http://cnsnews.com/blog/charlie-daniels/its-time-start-taking-respo...
In the 1940’s, there were few safety nets and fallback positions for the people I was raised among, and they needed little motivation to put their hands to the plow. They had just come out of the great depression and they were glad to be working. They knew about hard times and did whatever it took to keep the wolves away from the door.
That meant the fields had to be plowed and prepared, and that the crops had to be planted and cared for, or there would be no harvest to sell in the fall and no money to see the family through the rest of the year.
It meant that the trees has to be felled and cut up and hauled to the sawmill or there would be no pay envelope coming on Friday afternoon.
That meant that, whatever it took and however long it took to do it, you were on the job. No excuses, no alibis. Unless you were sick enough to stay in bed, you were there every day doing your work because, if you didn't do it, there was nobody else who would.
You were responsible for putting food on the table, feeding and educating your children, and keeping a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs, because if you didn't nobody else would.
If the roof was falling in on your house and your kids went to school in ragged clothes, it was nobody's fault but yours.
If the bank called your loan and you lost your land, you had nobody but yourself to blame.
Nobody else was going to plow your fields or harvest your crops. Nobody was going to magically appear and log your woods and haul your timber to market.
It was on your shoulders, in your hands, it was your responsibility, period.
Admittedly, it was a tough and demanding way of life when viewed in retrospect, but at the time it was accepted as the norm and it fostered a breed of men who were capable, resourceful and able to take the storms of life in stride without complaint or petulance. Men who could grow a garden or build a new barn, who disciplined their children and paid their bills, whose word sealed with a handshake which was more binding than anything any high-priced attorney could ever draw up.
read more:
http://cnsnews.com/blog/charlie-daniels/its-time-start-taking-respo...
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