Work was hard to find during the Depression
In this second column, I am speaking to Mr. Harold Smith, a well-known, highly respected local resident who is President of the Northampton Area Historical Society. He is recalling the family's experiences during the Great Depression.
"My father worked for the Northampton & Bath Railroad," Harold recalls. "One day when he came to work, he and 33 other men were told as of tomorrow you will be laid off. The railroads were hardly hauling any cement."
The Atlas Portland Cement Company would be closed for months, and Harold's father Clarence, would be unemployed for four years.
"Times were difficult, not only for us, but for millions of Americans who wanted to work," he says.
The president of the U.S. in 1933 was Franklin D. Roosevelt. His program to counter the Depression was called The New Deal. One of the many agencies formed to help the unemployed was the WPA. Works Progress Administration. The administrator was one of FDR's main confidants, Harry Hopkins.
They provided employment on many projects and provided jobs. The WPA rolls reached a total of more than 3,400,000. When it was terminated, over 8,500,000 different persons had worked on 1,410,000 individual projects at a cost of $11 billion.
Here are some of the accomplishments of the WPA: 650,000 miles of highways and streets, 124,031 bridges, 125,000 public buildings, 8,100 parks and 853 airport landing fields.
"My father was able to work for the WPA. He wanted to work," Harold recalls. "One project they worked on was the long limestone wall surrounding the Atlas Cement Company quarry. Most was manual – pick, shovel, wheelbarrow. Some men dug out the road from Northampton to Kreidersville. They also worked on the Wolf Field.
"Finally, my father was told by uncle Lavene Hahn the paint mill, Reichard & Coulston, was hiring."
Do my readers remember the old mill in Bethlehem?
"My father at the time did not have an automobile," Harold says. "Here's the route he took. He walked from 25th Street in Northampton to board the trolley at 21st and Main, which was the end of the trolley line in town. The trolley took him to H. Leh & Co. in Allentown, there he changed trolleys for Broad Street in Bethlehem. He left the trolley and walked to the paint mill. He spent four hours each day going to work, two hours in the morning two in the evening.
"If he worked overtime, he was unable to return home so he again walked to the trolley for Third and Hamilton in Allentown, there Bob Tollen, my aunt's friend, worked at the New Jersey Central Railroad station. Dad would sleep on a bench until morning when Bob would awaken him and give him something to eat. Then he would board the Bethlehem trolley and go back to the paint mill."
Clarence Smith certainly was a determined man who possessed a Pennsylvania Dutch work ethic, badly needed in today's society.
This writer drove past the paint mill on a number of occasions. I can still see men standing outside of the plant, their faces and clothing covered in red pigment. Hard-working men, they resembled aliens from a far away planet. Harold remembers, too.
"Dad showered at the plant and brought his work clothes home in a bag," he says. "All the water in the washing machine turned red, a couple of washings were needed. The wringer turned red and had to be cleaned.
"His hands always had red stains. About the only time they wore off was when he was on vacation. Conditions were not ideal but if you had been laid off for four years, you appreciated the job. It supported the family."
A few local men who worked at the plant were Herbert Ruch, Harold Demko, Dorothea Eickellberger (Harold's sister who tested pigment), Mike Clewell, Henry Solt, Dennis Solt, Paul Bealer and Richard Gross.
The paint mill and many of the employees are gone, but it provided a job for Clarence Smith where he worked until his retirement.
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In two weeks, Harold remembers his youth and life during the Depression. Please come along with him.








