By Ernie H., April 12, 2019 — During the [Great] Depression, my six other siblings, mother, and I used to do odd jobs to try to make ends meet. One of the jobs was picking and selling blueberries. My oldest brother would drive us into the mountains starting from early June through Labor Day. We would spend these days hand-picking berries. After a hard day of picking, my mother would treat us to ice cream, always a doubleheader ice cream cone for fifteen cents. Once we got driven back home, I would put the berries in containers on my red wagon and peddle them around town. I had regular customers who would always purchase them by the quart.
