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products. I recall eating a Sunday dinner in the 1930s when my Dad
            said, “This beef roast cost 15¢ per pound retail. What the rancher who
            raised the steer received can only be a fraction of that. It isn’t fair to the
            rancher – he can’t possibly make out at that price.”
                   In Southern Utah, families ate venison from deer they killed;
            steer meat was sent to the market for scarce dollars. So, venison was
            referred to as “Southern Utah beef” – it was consumed at home because
            the sale of venison would have been illegal. Of course, killing deer was
            illegal – but it was recognized as being necessary for survival.
                   The price of wool and mutton fell precipitously. I recall the story
            of a distant relative who was in the sheep business at the time. After a
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            because he owed the bank $6.00 per head for the sheep and they could
            only be sold for $4.00 each. He arrived at his own solution for the prob-
            lem. He drove his sheep herd to the edge of his small town, went to
            the bank and said to the bank manager, “Your herd of sheep is out on
            the edge of town. I’ll be glad to be the shepherd for $75 per month in
            wages.”
                   During  the  Depression,  anyone  with  a  job  gladly  accepted  a
            wage cut of 10 percent - glad to still have a job! Dad, like all state em-
            ployees, took a 10 percent cut. However, the prices of goods declined so
            much that our family’s real income remained the same. I am proud that
            Dad and Grandpa refused to cut the wages of the men working for them
            in the boiler shop.  Dad accepted a reduction for himself but felt that the
            workers had little margin for savings from their income.
                   Even as a kid, I felt the social impact. I recall walking down
            Main St. with Dad and everything looked normal in 1932. However,
            when we turned right onto 1  or 2  6RXWK  WKH VLGHZDONV ZHUH KDOI ¿OOHG
                                      st
                                            nd
            with unemployed men. They would exchange information about pos-
            sible short-term job openings, politics, etc. These were not hobos, these
            were normal working men who were simply victims of the Depression.
            In fact, 25 percent of all adult men in America were unemployed. While
            our family was not directly hurt, I felt badly for others who were hurt.
            For example, an electrician we knew was unable to secure any work for
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