The little books were sort of a pain to Cliffside people, but the shortages were worse. Gasoline, tires, shoes, coffee, sugar, and many other items were hard to get. Remember the occasional car or truck grinding down the road, running on rims? And those “A” stickers on windshields (which limited the car's owner to about 3 gallons of gas a week)? Some women, bless their hearts, resorted to the faddish “painted on” stockings—leg makeup—to replace those no-longer available Nylon hose.

We were lucky in some respects. Living in a small town, most of us had relatives or friends who lived on nearby farms, and had beef or pork for sale or barter. And nearly every family was able to have a garden to grow their own fruits and vegetables, much of which they preserved at our “municipal” cannery. Milk, eggs and butter could be had from peddlers from the countryside, such as Florence Bailey, who came to town from the Trinity community about twice a week. Her client list included the Holloway White's, the John Tinkler's and many more. If you weren't home, no matter, she would enter your unlocked house and put your order safely in your icebox, or— if you were more affluent—your Frigidaire or Kelvinator.

To read more about those times, on the internet search for “WWII Ration Books.”