Forget Reagan, What Would Gramp Do?

People are scared. There’s talk of another Great Depression. And it seems that when a crisis so ominous comes along, both Republicans and Dems look to the past. “What would Reagan do?” say the Republicans who have had weak leadership in recent years. And “Remember the Clinton boom and budget surplus?” say the Democrats. We reminisce as we’re led like lemmings off a cliff. But can a powerful nation like the United States really let that happen again? Soup lines…Grapes of Wrath despair… 25 % unemployment? Things are different today. There are more safeguards against such a thing—the FDIC, unemployment that teeters around 6%, and a more stabilized Gross National Product than in the early 1930s. But we’re so spoiled and entitled, maybe it’s all relative. We may have to decide between our lawn service and our cleaning lady. Or the kids may suffer the humiliation of using an outdated iPOD…or we may need to buy a (gulp) used car.

If you want to know how to survive a deep recession that emotionally feels like a depression, don’t turn to the government. Ask your grandparents, if you’re lucky enough to have them with you. Or, say a prayer for their guidance. The members of the Greatest Generation, as coined by Tom Brokaw, were heroic in so many ways. My Gram and Gramp were guiding forces in my life into my 40s. It was a huge turning point in our family when they died only 7 months apart from each other. Gramp was a true hero of WWII, awarded two bronze stars and saving God knows how many of his fellow soldiers’ lives. We don’t know, because he never talked about it. Gram raised four kids on her own while Gramp was serving in Germany. In the 1960s and 70s, we remember their house as a safe haven—splashing in the pool, building tree forts and cuddling on the couch to watch Milton Berle or Lawrence Welk. They lived only a quarter mile or so from us, so my sister and I could walk there. And we did, just about every weekend. Gram and Gramp had a nice house and a comfortable life, but were always frugal. They had big holiday parties and barbecues, but never traveled. They gave us way too much at Christmas, but Gram saved her S&H green stamps in a little book. While Gram would be baking a pie in the kitchen, I’d wander into Gramp’s Magic Emporium known as his garage. “I need some kind of thick red cord for my science project, Gramp.” He would look at his dozens of containers (rejects from Gram’s kitchen) and pull out a plastic cool whip container of string and cords of every color and size. “Here’s a good red one,” he’d say. And it would be perfect. When I was a young adult, I was invited to a murder mystery party and the theme was a 1950s sock hop. My assigned role was a cheerleader…so I dug out my high school orange and black letter sweater and a black skirt. On my way to the mall to hunt for orange and black pom poms, I stopped as always to see Gram and Gramp. I told Gramp what my mission was and he said, “Hold on.” He disappeared into the cellar to access its crawlspace—a vortex of things past and present. He returned with…you guessed it. “Here you go, two orange and black poms poms.” I was stunned. They didn’t even smell musty. “I won’t ask where you got these,” I said, a little freaked out. This was exactly how my grandparents lived, always in the ready, with more canned food on the cellar shelves than they could ever consume and prepared for anything life dished out. Their willingness to save up for the things they desired made them so much sweeter. They believed in sacrificing today so their kids and grandkids would be better off tomorrow. They didn’t know greed or competitive spending to keep up with the Joneses. They knew the difference between really hard times and how to preserve the good times. We can’t depend on the government to get us through, but the answers may already be inside all of us. If we didn’t learn this deep seated resourcefulness from them then, we must learn it now.