It had come to the point where we all had to pack our things and leave, my whole family and I. I watched with my younger brothers and mama as my pa fought for his boss' farm alongside his co-workers. The tax collectors won though. The farm wasn't much, all dried out and dusty. But our farmhouse was the only thing we had left. My pa's co-workers accompanied us on our way to our new home in a dingy run down hooverville. It was down right sad. No food, no decent clothes, barely any shelter. I had most definitely taken for granted my old privileges. Now today i've grown accustomed to the frugal living here in this shantytown. My pa goes out to find work put out by the New Deal while my mama takes care of the younger kin. And myself, well I listen to President Roosevelt himself in his fireside chats on the radio. That man sure has a way of getting people to hope.
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