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Show (Note While Drew Pearson is on vacation. Secretary oj Agriculture Clinton Clin-ton P. Anderson contributes a guest column.) By CLINTON P. ANDERSON Secretary of Agriculture WASHINGTON. The first Sunday Sun-day after V-J Day, a friend came by with an automobile to take my family and his for a drive into the country to have dinner with another friend. Nothing like that had happened hap-pened In years. We were all delighted de-lighted at the chance to ride through country lanes, to talk about the height of the corn, the possibilities of crops, and the probability that we would enjoy meat for dinner. But as we started back into Washington, Wash-ington, we could not help but notice that the roads were filling up. There was a long line of traffic and many folks drove by at speeds which seemed reckless to us. They were perhaps driving 40 or 45 miles an hour and we had become accustomed accus-tomed to the 35-mils an hour leisurely leisure-ly gait. When one speeding car swirled past as, I heard my wife murmur, "My, what I wouldn't give to havt gasoline rationing back." I began to wonder how many of the things that war had brought to us as sacrifices or privations w would soon come to appreciate as blessings In disguise. I began to wonder how long it would be before people would sometimes sigh for some of the real advantages of the days during the war when we all lived a little closer together, a little more simply, and perhaps a little more in the traditional American Ameri-can pattern that had started this country on its way to becoming a great nation. ' Real Values of Life. Do you remember back In the years of the depression that Henry Ansley out In Amarillo, Texas, wrote a book entitled, "I Like the Depression"? Frankly, I liked his little book, because he told of the blessings that had come to him with a reversal in his financial situation. He told of the discoveries that he had made as the period of wild prosperity pros-perity passed and the long months of depression set In. He told of the farmers who had gone back to living liv-ing on their farms instead of living off their farms. The war has done something to 1 all of ns. It made us appreciate some of the real values of life that many of ns had lost sight of. We all complained a little about the war, didn't we? We were a little disappointed when we found that the stocks of new cars were frozen, but we discovered dis-covered that the old car was a lot better and would run a lot longer than we had thought. Car-Pool Neighbors. I remember my first experience with a car pool. We had two automobiles auto-mobiles at our house; our next door neighbor had two automobiles at his place. We were not well acquainted, acquaint-ed, mostly because it wasn't necessary, neces-sary, until the war came along. Then my next door neighbor and I and two others, who heretofore had gone to our offices by separate means, found ourselves fused together to-gether Into a car pool. We were irrevocably ir-revocably tied to each other. We had to rise at the same time In the morning, leave at the same hour for work, and return home together in the evening. I am sure that at first we all resented re-sented a little the fact that we lost our freedom of action, but we gained a great lesson in neighborli-ness. neighborli-ness. We found out that the people who lived next to us might be just as interesting and attractive, just as pleasant and just as companionable as the people whom we had always known who lived down the street or across the city. Victory Garden Blessing. How many women improved their figures as they walked to market! And think what Victory gardens did for the men! Like Drew Pearson, I will perhaps be away from Washington when this column is printed, away on a short vacation. While I am gone, 1 someone will be mowing my lawn. During the war I had to mow my own lawn. I couldn't find anyone interested in taking care of my particular par-ticular Uttle piece of property. And a strange thing happened: I found that I could mow it as well as anyone any-one else, that I could mow it quickly, and that I could learn within with-in a short time exactly how each particular section could be best mowed to develop the best cut of grass. And I found out also that when I mowed it myself, I not only improved the lawn, I improved my own digestion. I'll miss that now that the war is over, because I'll tell myself that I'm too busy to do it when I can hire someone else for the Job. I suppose that my wife will miss something, too, because she used to walk to market and carry her groceries gro-ceries back home In a basket. As for myself, I reflect upon the fact that an automobile salesman used to be able to sell me a new ear each year. But when the war came I learned that automobiles will go 50,000 or 100,000 miles and stfll be pretty dependable as a means of transportation. |