by Laura Golden
Stories of kids being forced to grow up quickly during the 1930s seem endless. My husband’s paternal grandmother, Helen Bryant Golden, also lost her mother at a young age. She too was expected to cook for her family, and the first-try rock-hard biscuits Lizzie describes could have been Nanny Golden’s own. In real life, Nanny’s older brothers laughed at her. But she got the last laugh—her biscuits certainly are not rock hard anymore.
Fortunately, none of these people ever had to awaken one morning and discover that their father had left, though that was a shock many did endure. During the 1930s, men were considered their families’ breadwinners. When the stock market crashed in 1929, millions of men lost their jobs and were unable to find reemployment. Like Lizzie’s daddy, many fell into despair, feeling ashamed and humiliated that they could no longer provide for their families. Unable to bear the guilt, some men simply ran away. By 1940, 1.5 million men had abandoned their families.
In Every Day After, Mama becomes terribly depressed and withdrawn when Daddy disappears. Lizzie refuses to let Dr. Heimler examine Mama for fear that he’ll send her off to the hospital or mental ward. Lizzie had good reason to be afraid. Beginning in the mid-1800s and continuing well beyond the 1930s, people exhibiting signs of mental illness were typically institutionalized. These patients were afflicted with maladies ranging from severe depression (like Mama) to epilepsy (like me) and were often mistreated.
The mentally ill weren’t the only unfortunates sent to state institutions. Children regularly ended up in grossly overcrowded orphanages. Parents struggling to feed and provide for their children opted to place them in state care with the intention of taking them back when times improved. Sadly for some of those children, their parents never returned.
When orphanages ran out of room, children were sent into foster care. Since people struggled so desperately with finances during this era, many families agreed to take in orphans just to receive money from the state. When foster parents tired of their responsibilities, the luckless children were sent back to the orphanage to await yet another foster home. Orphans were usually tossed hither and yon, unable to enjoy a stable, nurturing upbringing. Some ran away, choosing instead a life of hopping trains and begging for food.
I imagine that those children, along with most everyone forced to survive the harshness of the Depression, truly felt at their wits’ end, and when I first read the poem “Wits’ End Corner” by Antoinette Wilson, I knew I wanted to include it in the story. It sums up the despair folks must have felt during the 1930s, yet it conveys a great sense of hope.
Finally, Mama’s treasured book of proverbs is real. As Lizzie would say, it holds bragging rights for being one of the longest titles I have ever laid eyes on: Curiosities in Proverbs: A Collection of Unusual Adages, Maxims, Aphorisms, Phrases and Other Popular Dicta from Many Lands. Whew! It was published in 1916 and was arranged with annotations by Dwight Edwards Marvin. Most of the chapter titles in Every Day After are proverbs taken from this book.
Acknowledgments
The people I wish to thank are few, but they each played an indispensible role in the development and publication of this book. You know what they say: quality over quantity. I am extremely blessed by the quality of people who surround me every day.
First, to my husband, Michael. Without you, Lizzie’s story might never have been told. You have been my biggest cheerleader and my biggest fan since day one. Thank you for believing in me and for pushing me forward when everyone else, including me, thought I should turn back. This journey wouldn’t have been the same without you.
I struck editor gold with Michelle Poploff. Thank you, Michelle, for your wisdom, your insight, and your guidance. Your willingness to shepherd debut authors reminds me of another editor with the initials M.P.—the late, legendary Maxwell Perkins.
A thousand thanks to retired publisher Bud Flora and his gracious wife, Georgia, for taking the time to read an early draft of the manuscript and for your fervent insistence that it had potential. Most of all, thank you for your friendship.
A million thanks to my parents, Mark and Jackie Perry. Thank you, Mama, for reading version after version of the story, and thank you, Daddy, for celebrating with me when the good news finally arrived. You both mean more to me than you know.
This story would not have turned out the same without the personal experiences of the following: my late paternal grandparents, Jake and Nelda Perry; my husband’s paternal grandparents, Helen and John Golden; my maternal grandmother, Sue Lively; and Mr. James Hubbard. Thank you all for sharing your memories with me.
A heartfelt thanks to Chris and Ray Pelham for being kind enough to sift through old family photos with me.
To my two boys, Cade and Tanner, thank you for allowing me to take over the computer and for keeping my life interesting. I love you both!
And finally, because they are forced to put up with me, a big thanks to my sister and brother, Rebecca and Griff. You guys are the best.
About the Author
As a child, Laura Golden was a reader, a dreamer, and a listener. She loved to read everything from cereal boxes to C. S. Lewis (still does); she loved to dream of becoming everything from a figure skater to a fairy-tale princess (still does, but don’t tell anyone); and she loved to listen to older generations spin tales about the “good ol’ days” (still does, and she’s always willing to lend an ear).
Laura lives with her husband and two sons on a lovely piece of Alabama countryside just east of Birmingham. This is her first (but hopefully not her last) novel.