(Portions of this column and the above photo were taken from the Brandon Mental Health Centre Museum web site.)

The greatest thing since sliced bread? Okay, who invented the bread slicer? "Otto Frederick Rohwedder (1880-1960) was a native of Davenport, Iowa, and was a jeweler by profession. Beginning in 1912 Otto toyed with an idea for a bread slicing machine that would revolutionize the baking business. Unfortunately, the prototype and the blueprints were tragically destroyed by a fire at the Monmouth, Illinois factory in November, 1917.

"Rohwedder resumed worked on designing a new and improved commercial bread slicer, which was completed in 1928. Skeptics argued that pre-sliced bread would quickly dry out. Rohwedder took his slicer to the Chillicothe (Missouri) Baking Company where he convinced a baker friend to use it. The new invention both sliced, and wrapped the bread in order to keep it fresh. History was made (or sliced) on July 7, 1928, when bread was sliced and wrapped commercially for the first time by a bread slicing machine. "

Bakeries didn’t slice bread during World War II. The metal needed for the blades normally used for slicing the bread before it was packaged was given to the war effort. If you bought your bread from the bakery, you had to slice it yourself, though many people baked their own bread.

Meat was rationed, as was just about everything during "the war". Spam was created to provide a more affordable and available meat source. Spam was rationed, too, but not to the extent meat was. Families would save up their Span coupons so they could get a case of Spam at a time. Then they’d ship their servicemen the cases of Spam, only to learn that Spam was about the only meat some of the servicemen ever got!

Sugar was also rationed. Luxuries such as candies for Christmas were hard to come by. My grandfather, Dave Holladay, was an independent bread delivery man during "the war". He bought bread from a bakery in Lubbock. The bakery was so appreciative of his business that one year they gave him a 100 pound barrel of sugar for Christmas. Mom Holladay and her girls Hazel and Bettye Kate "went to town"! They had candy stacked all over the kitchen! Of course the good fortune was shared with the extended family. Candy was mailed to in-laws all over, including California, where Bettye Kate’s brother-in-law Granville and his wife Dorothy lived (along with a lot of other relatives). They were so thrilled with the gift they wrote a beautiful thank-you letter to the Holladay family.

Of course, candy was also mailed to Dub, Mr. And Mrs. Holladay’s son serving his nation in the Army Air Corps as a P-38 pilot in the South Pacific, but he only got about half of what was sent. The censors, who were required to inspect packages mailed to the servicemen, apparently knew a good thing when they saw it. They did at least let some of it reach Dub, for which he was grateful. Mom Holladay’s Christmas candy was just about the best!

Mr. Holladay would leave Littlefield every morning around 1:00 a.m. to drive to Lubbock and load up his old panel truck. The speed limit was 45 miles an hour, so it took a while to get there. He received ration coupons for tires and gas, since his business was dependent on travel. Then he’d head back toward Littlefield to begin his deliveries.

On one particular trip, Mr. Holladay stopped to pick up four boys who were hitch-hiking back to Littlefield. They were John Porcher, Gene Clark, Babe Hammonds and John Henry Chapman. These boys were always together. (Kids very seldom went to Lubbock "just for the fun of it", and had to walk or bum rides even then.) Mr. Holladay told the boys he’d give them a ride home, but they’d have to ride lying flat under his trays. (The truck was rigged out so that trays could slide in, and each tray was filled with baked goods. There was a space of about 18 inches under the lowest row of trays.) The boys were just glad for the ride, as it was pretty cold that night, and they still had a long way to go.

As they progressed toward Littlefield, Mr. Holladay could hear paper rattling, and knew the boys were helping themselves to the fried pies he always put on the bottom rack. But he didn’t really mind. He always liked kids, and enjoyed helping them out when he could. Mr. Holladay knew they were eating a few more than "their share", and soon a voice from the back of the truck spoke, "Mr. Holladay, ain’t ya’ got nothing but pineapple?"

These four boys joined the service together, and all four gave their lives in the service of our country.

Dave delivered all over the area: Lums Chapel, Bula, Enochs, Needmore, Goodland, to a ranch near the New Mexico border, Sudan, Amherst, local stores like Renfro’s, Lyman’s (later called Littlefield Merchantile), Foust’s, Hodge’s, and others I’m sure we left out.

Gas and tires were rationed. If you had a need, that is, if your livelihood depended on it, you could get coupons for gas and tires. But if you lived in town and worked in town, it was very difficult to get ration coupons. There were exceptions: a death in the family that required travel - that is, if you couldn’t get there on a train - might be considered for "gas stamps". Living and working in town meant you could walk, as far as the committee who decided such things was concerned. Something good comes of all things - the beginning of carpooling, though it wasn’t called that then! Cars for consumers were no longer made after 1942, except for those who required them, like government officials. Building was resumed in 1946.

The school kids had it kind of rough, as well. There were few band trips or football trips, because of the tire and gas rationing. Teachers often left to go to the service (or their spouses did), leaving classes without instructors. Very often Senior students ended up teaching the classes, so that those students who were able (who hadn’t already left to join the service) could graduate.

The last Senior trip was in 1941 - that is, the last to go "out of town". They took a trip to Carlsbad Caverns. The Class of 1944 got to go to Bull Lake in the back of R. M. Smith’s cattle truck for a picnic!

There were scrap drives and bond drives, as well. The Wildcat Band played at the Palace Theater, on the street, or anywhere they were needed to support these drives, and called themselves the Victory Band on these occasions. The band was directed by Mrs. Cora Armistead, whose husband was in the service (a brother to B. W. Armistead, former mayor of Littlefield).

Other things were rationed in addition to gas, tires, Spam and sugar. Silk stockings (the precursor of "nylons") were very hard to get. Ladies would put their names on a list at the local department store (Ware’s, for instance), along with their size. When the store got in a supply of stockings, they sent out cards to the first names on the list, depending on how many pairs of stockings in each size were received. If you didn’t claim your stockings promptly, they went to the next name on the list, and they were very expensive for the time.

Silk stockings had seams up the back. Many ladies who couldn’t afford silk stockings (or chose to save their money for other things) would tattoo a seam up the back of their legs. They’d use make-up of some sort to make their legs look as if they had on stockings. (I’ve often wondered how these ladies got rid of the tattoos.)

Paper was also very hard to come by. In school, students used both sides of paper, and were very careful and saving with it. In offices, adding machine tape was never torn off, but was rolled onto another spool, then reversed and used on the other side.

The letters sent to servicemen was written on "V-mail" forms - one sheet of paper that was later photographed and made smaller by the censors. By the time it got to the servicemen, it was often too small to read! All mail and packages went through censors, (as it still does today). Of course, the mail sent home by the servicemen was free, but mail sent to the servicemen required a stamp, though.

Materials (fabrics) were hard to come by, as well. There was one store in the area that seemed to be able to get materials for sewing - Nichols Store at Bula. In fact, that’s where most of the fabric came from for my sister’s baby clothes, which my mother, my aunt and my grandmother made (and I wore later).

Even certain dyes were also very hard to get. Lucky Strike cigarettes used to come in a green package. But the dye used to make the packages was needed for servicemen’s uniforms. Lucky Strike came up with a motto: "Lucky Strike Green Has Gone to War". They changed their packaging to white, with black lettering and a small red logo.

Almost every family, in this part of the country at least, had a vegetable garden, and many families had milk cows, if they had the room. Mason jars were not rationed, so everyone worked hard to put up enough food to get them through the winter. Gardening was a family affair, usually, with everyone doing what they could from tilling the soil, to planting, to watering (when and where it was possible), to hoeing and pulling weeds, to gathering, to shelling peas and husking corn, and whatever was needed to prepare the vegetables for canning. The "cans", usually actually jars, were sealed and stored in a dark, cool place until they were needed for a meal. For those of you who don’t remember what "fresh" vegetables out of a canning jar tastes like, you’ve really missed something!

Haven’t we got it easy? We live our lives of leisure thanks to the servicemen and women who, to this day, defend our country. We owe our very lives to these brave individuals. Thank them every chance you get!