Manuscripts/Mixed Material [Mrs. Whelchel]
“Well, my husband works over there at the Chevrolet plant.” We had seen Sam Whelchel down at the union office. He was a great hulking figure of a man, full of laughter, and much like a big overgrown boy despite the premature grayness of his hair. “He unloads the supplies at the docks and before that he was a buffer. A buffer holds the fenders up against a wheel covered with some soft fuzzy stuff and polishes off the scratches. No, they don't do that anymore. I don't know why; maybe they jest don't care about the scratches.
“Sam's workin' five days a week now. He gets eighty cents an hour and works forty hours a week. But it's seasonal work, y'know. They're going full blast now because the new model's out, but he was off for three months this summer and jest went back in September. Yes, you sure do get behind when there's a layoff. I don't care how long he's been working, if he's laid off for just two weeks it ruins you. Oh, it's bad.
But we're gettin' by. We got two boarders, a couple of men who work over at the plant. We used to rent out that other side of the house; you see there's a separate door. But we jest got these two men now. Yeah, it helps a lot. We tried to make some money on chickens but we jest about broke even - maybe a little more, I don't know. We had about fifty, but we haven't got none now. Sold 'em and ate 'em. We lost twenty, but the eggs from the others made up for it.
“We got a cow too. And a calf. Oh, sometimes I sell some milk, but we nearly use it all. There's a lady up the street that sends down for some and if I got it I'll let her