These old newspapers make for some interesting reading. I leave the stove door open as I lean back on a rickety old chair, feet up on the woodpile, and peruse the classifieds. Hmm, lots of everything for sale; furniture, cars, jewelry, even houses and property. Then I check the date at the top of the page, October 29, 1932. I see sorrow with every page I turn. Broken businesses, broken families, broken farms and broken dreams. It seems there was a dust bowl as well as a stock market crash. Hard times. I look out at the night sky through the cracked panes of dirty glass and reflect on my present situation. Me, living like a hobo, with everything I own for the open road, well, canoe trip actually, and not really everything I own. Just everything I need for my adventurous holiday, before I have to get back to my job, security and future. Far more than many of these poor souls had in 1932. I pulled another flyer from the paper and tossed it into the fire. It was as I gazed hypnotically at the crumpling page slowly being consumed by heat and flame, that I focussed on the print. Standard Oil Trust. John D. Rockefeller's signature fell away into flame and ash as I sat transfixed staring at the fire. These aren't flyers, they're stock certificates? Deeper inside the firebox I could just make out more "flyers" leaning toppled in a heap, Canadian Pacific Railway Company, New York Central Railroad Company, Tennessee Coal, Iron and Railroad Company.
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