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Bits & Pieces -- Jerry Lane

Not too many years ago, kids sang “Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It

Snow” with acquisitive enthusiasm each time the weatherman hinted that we

might expect a covering of the cold white stuff. It wasn’t love like that

that inspired the man who wrote that lovely song; it was the prospect of


making money that excited every kid who could lift a snow shovel.

Neither my wife nor I can remember how old we were when we first

approached a neighbor with an offer to clear his sidewalk. We both

remember charging 25 cents for the sidewalk and front steps. We would


scatter salt or ashes over the cleared ground to make the ground less

slippery, if the customer provided it.

I can remember Mr. Miller coming out to inspect our work when we had

finished the sidewalk, which was half a block long. My brother and I had

worked on it for over an hour. It looked pretty good, and his smile

encouraged me to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse: “We’ll clear your

driveway for 50 cents.” He looked surprised and asked why he should pay

us twice the amount we had charged for the sidewalk to clear his


driveway. When I told him that we would not pile the snow along the side

of the drive, but carry it all the way out to the street, he said, “It’s

a deal.”

Now, 75 cents for almost three hours of work may not sound like

something to get excited about when you think of it today, but back in

the ‘30s, that much money could put a very nice dinner on the table for a

family. Money was tight, and kids were proud to be able to contribute. It

wasn’t just snow shoveling that gave them that opportunity. Lawn raking,


apple picking, garage cleaning, and errand running all gave a kid a

chance to earn pocket money.

In Pat’s hometown, where few people had telephones, calls would come

in to the candy store. A kid who ran to give the message that “Mrs. Jones

is wanted on the phone at Harry’s” received a nickel from Mrs. Jones as

she ran out the door to get her call.

My mother baked cakes for the local grocery store. The storekeeper

kept her account in a notebook he kept under the counter. The money he

received for Mother’s cakes were applied against her grocery bill. Uncle

Dick painted his neighbor’s house while his neighbor rewired Uncle Dick’s

cottage. They called it “one hand washing the other.” Barter? Yes, I

suppose you could call it that. It was a system that made sense to those

who traded chores for work or groceries.

With the start of World War II, men went to war and women went to

work. Women who could not work outside the home supported their working

sisters by cleaning houses, taking in ironing and sewing, and providing

child care in their homes. All payments were made in cash. It was the way

things were done. No one was trying to hide income. It was just that

checking accounts weren’t that common. If you had to mail in a payment,

you got a money order at the store.

This way of doing business continues today, and it has city, county,

state and federal governments very concerned. The barter and “cash and

carry” economies are costing these agencies lots and lots of tax money

from billions of dollars in unreported income. Economists call it a

shadow economy, and most of us contribute to it without thinking.

When you receive a hillside brush-clearing notice from “the law,” you

either do it yourself or you look for someone who will come out and do it

for you. You don’t need a landscape gardener; you need a laborer to pull

and bag the weeds. Where do you find him? Chances are you remember the

group of men you saw standing in that temporary workers’ shelter on San

Fernando Road in Glendale, or in front of the Home Depot. You drive over

and find someone to do the work.

When it’s all done, you pay in cash. They don’t have checking

accounts, and check-cashing places charge up to 15% of the total to turn

that piece of paper into cash. That makes working for you less than

profitable to the men who do so. And so stone walls are built, beautiful

cement work is done, woodwork and painting are completed and there is no

record anywhere of payments made. It’s the way things are done.

The government doesn’t like business conducted this way. Unions don’t

like it either; they can’t collect dues from “shadow workers.” But I

doubt that anyone is going to put an end to it. A fellow who is out of

work will paint your house if you will tutor his son in algebra. A

stay-at-home mother will take care of your children each day if you will

pay for her child’s camp fees.

From the beginning of time, people have helped one another. No one

thinks of it as being dishonest. It just makes sense. It’s neighborly.

How come the government doesn’t understand that?