|Transcribed by Norma Knotts Shaffer from microfilm
of the Calhoun Chronicle dated 1/30/1941.
God Pity the Poor Unemployed
Representatives of the state un or re-employment administration were
her Monday from 1:00 p.m. until 2:30 p.m. Paid fancy salaries for
the job of helping the unemployed, these white-collared jaybirds worked
one and one-half hours.
A young feller from the head of Mud Fork walked and hitch-hiked the
thirty five miles from his home arriving here about noon. He was
left cooling his heels on a bench in the courtroom when the bells tolled
As these well-paid agents crawled into their fancy high-powered automobile
(five cents a mile for the use of it) the lad started a long hike on shank's
mare for his home. The Chronicle man talked to him. He said
he had been coming in for several months now and sometimes the agents were
not here, at other times they had to leave before they could get to him.
He has the promise of employment, but somehow or other he cannot go to
work until the un- or re-employment agents sign a card for him.
If there is anything fair or decent about regulations which require
a poor devil to start from his home long before daylight to attempt to
earn a living, and then have a squirt who holds his job through political
pull tell him he has to hurry back to Parkersburg to get his pants pressed
for a dance, the Chronicle has not read the dictionary correctly.
After all it comes down to this. If you do not have administrators
in charge of this relief business who are in sympathy with the statutes
which gives them jobs and who are willing to spend a little extra time
helping out the unfortunate, the whole business is not worth a continental
Extra time! An hour and a half in the courthouse; not over three
hours driving the fifty miles to Grantsville and return to Parkersburg.
Four hours and a half for the white collared agents!
What for the Mud Fork boy?