Hard times
1923-2023: A look back at 100 years ago -- the "good old days" -- and why they really weren't so great
A recent visit to my adopted hometown of San Diego found me lodging at the cozy suburban home of Richard McLaughlin, a friend for five decades.
The house, nestled in residential San Carlos at the foot of Cowles Mountain (now pronounced “Coles,” I’m told), is bright and airy, richly decorated with cultured artwork and artifacts of nature, flora and fauna. Astute placement and angling of composite-frame windows and skylights allow ambient light to flow evenly and efficiently. A massive freshwater aquarium occupies the open passage from the living room to the annex “sunroom.” The fish have ample space to do whatever they might do in the tropics. And there are books. Books everywhere.
This all makes sense — Richard is a retired law professor and lifelong environmentalist, and his father was a zoology professor and Executive Director of the San Diego Natural History Museum in the 90s. Rich counts among my oldest and dearest friends. He was the first of many roommates in the 70s and by far the most intelligent and responsible.
One morning we sat in the sunroom sipping coffee on a sprawling L-shaped couch that faces his 72-inch high-definition television. The sanctuary abuts a two-tiered backyard terrace, which is brilliantly landscaped and bisected by a
custom-built waterfall controlled by a well-concealed electronic pump. The sunroom is an ideal setting for conversation.
Discussions with Richard are stimulating and spirited. We disagree — sometimes vigorously — on many topics. But mutual respect and dialectic goodwill arbitrate our rules of engagement. Neither of us sees a world of black and white and absolutes; both of us believe in shades and nuance. This is our guiding etiquette of civil discourse. More people should try it.
On this morning the topic of religion came up. Both of us concede religiosity is diminishing in the 21st century. As he always does, Rich offered an insightful point.
(Paraphrasing from memory) “Think about it,” he said. “Just look back 100 years ago and how most people lived. They had hard lives. Most people had nothing. Very few luxuries … just a lot of misery. People scraped by with a bare minimum and had to work hard just for that minimum.
Maybe religion was the only thing they had to cling to for hope of something better.”
Indeed. I looked down at my Keurig-brewed coffee, then out toward the Eden-like terrace. It was an idyllic spring day in San Diego, pleasant and sunny. Surrounded by these comforts of facility and leisure, it got me thinking … what about 100 years ago? What if we had this conversation in 1923? No smartphones, comfy couches or charming waterfalls. Just hard times and a lot of misery.
I reckon we’d instead be praying.
So with apologies to the estates of Studs Terkel and Charles Dickens, both of whom authored books of the same title, I reflected on a century past, about Hard Times.
1923: The “Good Old Days”
We live lives of convenience and comfort, in relative opulence, really, compared to a century ago. Ours is a world of Alexa, iPhones, debit cards, DoorDash, gardens, climate-controlled environs, “smart” appliances and unlimited entertainment options.
Our lifestyle bears little resemblance to 1923. Almost every physical and temporal measure of modern life is better by orders of magnitude. Yet we whinge and complain about inconveniences and trivialities, about everything.
Comic Louis CK once riffed on Conan O’Brien’s show about a fellow airline passenger who bitterly objected when the onboard WiFi was interrupted for two minutes. CK was incredulous: “We’re flying through the air in an aerodynamic tube … going 600 mph at 37,000 feet … which is a miracle in itself … and this guy is cursing the flight attendant about the Internet.”
Compos mentis has disappeared in the 21st century. Nobody’s happy. About anything
Let’s be honest. The “good old days” of 1923 weren’t so good. In fact, they were downright shitty. Here are some thoughts...
Personal Health and Hygiene
In 1923, nearly half of the 112 million Americans still had to visit an outhouse. Most urban residents shared bathrooms with other families. Toilet paper, where available, had splinters. Many public water systems were outdated and
in need of repair or replacement. Leaky pipes and inadequate treatment facilities could lead to loss of water pressure and poor quality water.
Most of rural America had no indoor plumbing. Water sources could become contaminated by sewage, industrial waste, or agricultural runoff, which could lead to outbreaks of waterborne diseases such as typhoid fever and cholera.
Food
A two-mile trip for groceries today takes five minutes while traversing cleanly paved roads in a vehicle equipped with an onboard computer, heated seats and a rear-view camera. In 1923, that same trip took two hours (or more) with multiple stops.
Most grocers were small, counter service stores staffed by only two or three employees, with no meat nor produce departments. Stocks of bottled liquids and pickled vegetables were plentiful. But not much else.
Meat required a separate trip to the butcher shop and another to the bakery for fresh bread and desserts. And maybe a third to the fish market. Fresh produce was found at street markets. Milk and dairy products could be delivered … if you lived on the right block.
Then there was the issue of preservation. Warm summer months meant that families would gamble with safe food — electric refrigerators weren’t manufactured until General Electric marketed the first unit for domestic use in 1927. Ice was scarce, and the cost exorbitant.
General Comfort
My father was born in 1920. He did not experience air conditioning until his late 30s. In the 20s, large-scale cooling was limited to meat and dairy processing plants and custom-built structures. Architecture played a role in keeping homes cool. By creating archways, large windows, and high ceilings, builders could funnel in outdoor breezes and create cross-ventilation.
Then again, building codes were lax. Older buildings were leaky and moldy. Roofs and ceilings might crumble under heavy rainfall or snow. And builders didn’t know a whole lot about lead in paints. Or asbestos. It just looked fluffy and warm.
Furnishings could be skillfully crafted and ornate, but comfort was more often an afterthought. Art Deco just doesn’t scream cushy. Most beds were smallish (5 feet in length). A typical mattress had an innerspring core and cotton batting or fiberfill, which was adequate until one of the springs went haywire.
But there was nothing like having a beer sitting by a warm fire in the winter … that is until the chimney needed sweeping.
Then again there was the 18th Amendment.
Healthcare
The average life expectancy for Americans in 1923 was 56.
Childbirth was still a potentially deadly proposition for mother and child. Despite advances in medicine and public health, many Americans still struggled with diseases such as tuberculosis, influenza, polio … even measles and mumps. Access to healthcare was limited, especially in rural areas.
Health insurance resembling what we think of today began in the 1930s during the Great Depression. Prior to that, it wasn’t so much “health insurance” to pay for the costs of medical treatment; rather it was what we would today call disability income insurance.
Because medical technology was still relatively primitive, the actual cost of healthcare was low. Even into the 1920s, most surgeries were performed in people’s own homes, so hospital stays (and bills) were uncommon.
Travel
Moving around an urban area was relatively simple. People got around on metro trolley systems. Or took the bus. In New York, the subway was built in 1904. But mass transit wasn’t an absolute necessity. Most people were resourceful and relatively lean in 1923 because they walked. Everywhere.
The same cannot be said for 2023.
Long-distance travel was another matter. Most people took trains to destinations over 100 miles; the Model T wasn’t built for highways. Besides, there were no highways.
On Aug. 2, 1956, Missouri became the first state to award a contract with the new interstate construction funding. The Missouri State Highway Commission began work on what was to become U.S. Route 66 (now Interstate 44) in Leclede, MO.
So, About 2023
A couple of years ago, Harvard psychologist and linguistics professor Steven Pinker published Enlightenment Now, a detailed study on how the values of reason, science and humanism have brought about unparalleled progress in the 21st century, and that health, prosperity, safety, peace, and happiness continue to rise worldwide.
“… all is for the best in this ‘best of all possible worlds.’” — Dr. Peter Pangloss (Candide)
Pinker often jokes that he’s the modern-day Pangloss, the naive and unfailingly idealistic protagonist of Voltaire’s novel Candide (1759), a satire on philosophical optimism.
Maybe so. But he’s not wrong. Things are better today. Much, much better.
So the next time you didn’t get enough whipped cream on your Double Mocha Frappuccino, or your iPhone drops a call, don’t worry. You’ll be fine. You’ll live.
Certainly better than you would a century ago.
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Jim Geschke was inducted into the prestigious Marquis Who’s Who in America Registry in 2021.
My grandmother grew up in house with no electricity nor plumbing. Her family was financially comfortable, they had a telephone and a car, but they lived in rural NY. Even today, I believe even the poor in the USA live like kings compared to much of the world.
Good essay, Jim. I'm glad to be living now.
It's odd that we have it all, but it's never enough - for some. My hope is that in say 200 years, Keith Richards will still be happy with what we've done to this place. (shrug emoji).