On television, many writers on many shows portrayed dad as being the king of the family.  Progressing from Ozzie Nelson to Jim Anderson to Archie Bunker and finally Al Bundy with many stops in between, dad was always the one to carry the show.

However, in the house I grew up in, Mom was the one who provided stability.  Always knowing what she wanted and with few exceptions, getting it, I grew up thinking that Mom was the one who knew best.

She called herself a child of the depression, though she was almost 25 years old on Tuesday, October 29th, 1929.  She had already almost died in the influenza epidemic of 1918, been married once, and had numerous physical jobs where she made wages comparable to what a man of that era brought home.

On that dark October day in economic history, my father was 29 years old and was shortly destined to work for the Works Progress Administration which he always referred to as the WPA.  The WPA created jobs where there were none.  It built roads and bridges, put heads on a mountain side (Mount Rushmore National Memorial), and gave financial aid to the arts.  And created within my dad a philosophy that he carried with him for the next 50 plus years.

Succinctly, his philosophy was:  Never Buy Stock.  I don’t think Dad ever invested in anything except himself.  He didn’t die wealthy but he didn’t die broke, either.  And I believe with all my heart that Dad had one hell of a ride through his life.

Now I missed being here on that October day, called Black Tuesday by the few that remember it, by eight years, but I remember growing up in a post-depression era.  And, I hate to say this but I believe this to be true.  I believe if the stock market parks itself below 8,000, we will be in another one.

What is a depression like?  I don’t know.  I told you I missed the last one.  So you’ll just have to stick around and see for yourself.

There’s one thing different this time than in 1929.  For instance, we already have food banks, subsidized housing, and half-off day at the thrift stores.  But these institutions are miniature and threaten to be washed away by the tsunami of the present recession and for sure will not be able to withstand a depression.

What my dad knew in the 1940’s and people have forgotten today is that the stock market is a gamble, a house is something to live in, and not something to speculate with, and that greed is only good when things are going up.  When things are falling, greed will roll over you every time.

My dad wasn’t greedy.  He worked hard.  He avoided success and when a man approached my father and offered him money to build his business if Dad would make him a partner, he thought for a day and then told the man no thanks.

Dad was working in a machine shop when he got his big break.  He was offered a supervisor’s job.  Dad tried it for a month.  Then he quit the easier position with more money and went back to making parts.  Dad was his own man and, being his own man, he wasn’t comfortable bossing other people and telling them what to do.  And that’s what I remember him for as I reach the end of this game.  He never told me what to do.

So when my accountant suggested I put a little money in stock, I resisted.  When a broker with an office three blocks from where I live began offering me his services and finally began to beg me to become one of his clients, I balked.  Deep down, I knew the siren’s song of the market was strong and once in, I knew I would never get out.  So even when things were going up and up, with a bump now and then, I still resisted the tide and did what I knew I had to do.  Never Buy Stock.  The first share could have been all that it took to do me in.

Now I’m not wealthy and not greedy.  I don’t own a house or a car.  I don’t have cable TV or a girl friend.  I didn’t have a credit card until I finally broke down and got one from the bank so I could buy on the computer.  And once in a while, when I go to take a drink, I look at the glass and remember that it is both half empty and half full.

Dad, I love you with all my being.

Robert R. White, Sr.
Born:  December 13, 1899
Died:  December 6, 1981

- Bob