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Seniors call for some ration-al thinking For those who remember the shortages that came with WWII, spending on 'frivolous things' strikes a worrisome note in a new time of conflict By TONY BOOM When Medford city officials OK'd spending $50,000 on public art recently, memories of World War II shortages and rationing popped into Marion Owens' mind. She wondered why the city was willing to spend money for art instead of saving it in case the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks lead to a prolonged war. Owens remembers limits on gas, meat, tires, shoes, cheese, coffee and other products now taken for granted. Shortages hit city government as well as individuals, said Owens. Gasoline was rationed to police departments, and roads weren't kept up very well during the war. "I still think they ought to knock off some of their spending for frivolous things," said Owens, 78. "Cities were cut back on what they could do. Everything was tight. "Some of these commissioners and city councilmen are old enough to know better." Unlike the wars that Americans have experienced since, World War II consumed the daily lives of those on the home front. Many who experienced it also watched their families struggle through the Great Depression that ended with the start of World War II. Owens best recalls the widespread rationing during the war. "You only got so many gallons of gas. You had to have ration tickets," said Owens. "You only got so many pairs of shoes. You couldn't buy silk stockings." Tickets for sugar, flower and butter were issued based on the number of members in a family. Gas tickets were allocated by the type of work a person did. Farmers got more, as did Owens' husband, Ed, a carpenter. He helped build Camp White. Then the couple moved to Portland, where he worked in the shipyards. He died in 1980. "A lot more people used the bus or the train than they did before or now," said Nelda Mast, Owens' sister, who also moved to Portland during the war. "Buses were pretty crowded in those days." No new cars were built during the war. "Car parts were hard to find. They just quit making things for us," said Owens. "Everything that was done was for the war." Just before Owens got married in June 1941, she acquired a Guardianware aluminum cooking set. After the war started, civilians were asked to turn in aluminum to help the effort. But Owens kept hers and still has it today. "People who didn't smoke generally traded their (cigarette) ration tickets to those who did," said Mast, 82. "You stood in line for a long time to get a carton of cigarettes." Mast sent surplus sugar and flour coupons to her mother, Ethel, for canning and baking on the family farm in Sams Valley. But civilians endured more than just rationing. Owens' father-in-law had his 1,500-acre farm in the Agate Lake area confiscated for the creation of Camp White. He was paid for the property and bought a farm in Ashland. After the war he was allowed to repurchase his original holdings. Mast quit a teaching job to repair airplane machine guns at an Army Air Corps base in Portland. After the war she returned to Medford and resumed teaching. Claud Hoover said his family's White City farm had greater access to some rationed goods because the government needed farm products, especially seed from clover, which naturally fertilizes soil. "We could buy stuff that Medco couldn't," said Hoover, 86. "We could get tires when nobody else could." But overall, "everything was tight, but it had to be," said Hoover. "Shoes and sugar were the main things we had trouble with and had to cut down on. You couldn't buy shoes that were worth a damn. They were made out of paper. It wasn't fun." Women saved the fat from bacon and brought it to stores, said Hoover. The government turned the fat's glycerin into nitroglycerin, a key ingredient in dynamite and other explosives. "You was so damn short of gas you couldn't go anywhere, and there wasn't anything to go to anyway," said Hoover. "People didn't go to restaurants as much as they do now. You sat and listened to the radio." Every kid who brought scrap metal would get into a matinee free when Craterian Theatre owner George Hunt held one of his scrap drives, said Southern Oregon Historical Society senior historian Bill Alley. Kids in the long line made plenty of noise with their donations. A World War I German cannon in Library Park, now known as Alba Park, was melted down for the war effort. The cannon on display now is World War II Japanese vintage, Alley reported. "Most of the scrap drive stuff didn't get used," said Alley. "They were things to keep the home populace involved. A lot wasn't the quality needed." There was a feeling that everyone had to pitch in, and what one person couldn't use, another needed. "We didn't have it very bad because we had five kids, so we had plenty of things like sugar and flour," said Alice Burnette, 86, of Talent. Everyone received the same allocation based on family size, but because her children were small she ended up giving away sugar coupons. A garden also helped her family during the war. One store in Talent kept canned milk and Karo syrup under the counter so they could save it for people with babies, said Burnette. Near the end of the war Burnette worked in fruit packing houses because labor was in short supply. Soldiers from Camp White also came to assist with the packing, she said. She usually worked a 10-hour day while her mother took care of her youngest baby boy. Like others, Burnette remembers shoes and gas as items that were in shortest supply. Everybody was patriotic during the war, said Owens. "I can't even explain how patriotic we were then. We all lost very good friends," said Owens, who paused to choke back tears. "It still hurts. "We would all have done anything we could have done to save country. Everybody was united. There wasn't a soul that wouldn't have gone out and given their life." Reach Ashland bureau reporter Tony Boom at 482-4651, or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2001 Mail Tribune, Inc.