As a young child growing up during the depression days in the 1930’s there was no jobs, no unemployment, banks crashed, people losing their homes and money they had in the bank. I remember people saying how people jumped off the Victory Bridge on Friday as I sat and listened to the different speakers.

I remembered living on the dead end off Cornell St. Mr. Otlowski was a young college student dressed in a white shirt, sleeves rolled up typing on his typewriter which stood on top of a stand with a wood top, metal legs and a small typewriter on top of this stand. I would run small errands for Mr. Otlowski. He would sit on the porch across the street at a friend’s house.

One day he called on me to go to the grocery store and buy him a loaf of bread, milk and 3 cents baloney. When I delivered the groceries, he handed me a silver coin. I came home and gave it to my mom. She told me it was money (5 cents). That night when she came home from the store for the five cents she bought pork chops. We did not know what pork chops were because we have chicken and rabbit meat and a lot of soups from the vegetables grown in the garden. I remember we always had a 50 lb. bag of potatoes. Mom made homemade bread with sweet butter. The western end of Hall Avenue was called Chickentown.

When I saw Mr. Otlowski sitting a few days later, I told Mom and she sent me over to thank him that the coin was put to good use. He had no answer for me but a beautiful smile. Even as a young man, he was kind until his older age when he left office, he left with a clean slate. Even today, no comments of him were made. He not only helped us, but a lot of poor people, especially my family. We were on relief. Today it is called welfare.

Thank you Mr. Otlowski. May you rest in peace.

Helen Leonard