Reflecting on recyclers of the past

The buzzwords for a greener lifestyle are Reduce, Recycle and Re-use. The message is short, simple and to the point. But not necessarily new. As a child, I spent much of my time in the company of my grandparents. People who had grown up in the shadow of the Great Depression. They came of age in a time when neighborhoods were filled with friends and family who had lost jobs, money and homes. From there, they were pitched into the deprivation of World War II. Food and supplies - from luxuries to the most basic necessities - were rationed. Doing your best often meant doing without. The lessons they learned followed them as they aged. For the rest of their lives they were savers. Even during the modern-is-in-and-old-is-out 1950s and ‘60s. Even during the disposable-is-better 1970s and 80s, they were frugal. They were recyclers, even before the phrase was coined to be tossed around by media. Just thinking about their home I can see the small steps they took. My grandfather’s workshop was in the garage in the backyard. The ceiling was ornamented with small jars filled with nuts, bolts, screws, nails and washers. He took the empty jars from my grandmother’s kitchen and nailed the lids to the ceiling and then, after filling them, screwed the jars back into the lids. It was a renewable source of storage that lasted a long time and served a useful purpose. My friend’s fathers had rows of plastic storage drawers on the workbench, But at our house, when the mayonnaise, peanut butter and pickles were gone, the jar was washed and moved to the garage. My grandmother took worn clothing - items that had more often than not been mended, hemmed and let down again - and cut the shirts, pants and even curtains into patches to be made into quilts. They could afford fine blankets and coverlets for the beds, but believed in finding use, and beauty, in the remnants. I still have some of these quilts and treasure them. The fabric, faded, softened and forever familiar, got a second useful and beautiful life. It was only when an item - large or small - could not be repaired, restored or recycled that they purchased a replacement. I often think of them as I walk the aisles of one of the large thrift stores or re-sale shops around town. When I see furniture, dishes, dresses, home decor and any of a million other items donated or consigned because they were simply no longer new or of the latest style. By many accounts, the economy is recovering. Home sales, while still sluggish, are beginning to rebound a bit. The flood of layoffs and downsized jobs is not as furious. The paralyzing fear is fading by degree. I can’t help but wonder if the lessons afforded by what our generation has gone through will be as permanent, and life changing, as theirs. It seems to me the first thing we ought to recycle is their sense of stewardship toward everything they own.