Mayor Howlett's Appeal

As the new year of 1932 began, it seemed that many in St. John's would have a tough time getting through it. Mayor Howlett said he had been going around the city, talking to people in their homes, and he wanted the public to know how some people were living. On January 5, 1932, the mayor broadcast an appeal on the VOWR radio station, asking people with jobs to help those who didn't have them. In his talk, he decided to appeal to people's feelings by showing them what it was like in two St. John's households. Here is part of the story he told, as it was printed in The Evening Telegram the next day.

John A., widower, and six young children live in the first one. John's youngest child is three years old. Its mother died three years ago this winter. Cause of death: malnutrition. John, a decent, sober labourer, has never been steadily employed. Got work when and where he could, but it was impossible for him to ever get ahead of the game. As long as his wife lived, the children were fairly well clothed. Food was always a problem; fuel not so bad; old board and boxes helped in the summer, and during the winter the odd ton of coal from one of the charitable organizations, with what he could get on a slide, when he dared, for fear of losing a few hours' work, take a chance to go for it in the woods...

Neighbours tell me these children were always clean and the house was the same while the mother lived. Today: Come up the rickety stairs, no, it's not very clean. There's only one room for the whole family now. There are two chairs and a broken box. You'll have to stand. One table. A stove lashed together with wire. The snow has melted and dripped through the roof. Two panes of glass are missing and rags stuffed in their place doing their best to keep out the wind and cold. On a propped up couch, two hollow-eyed, emaciated children are lying: their legs are naked, their feet the same. The thinnest of torn and worn cotton dresses cover their bodies incompletely. The oldest girl is trying to wash the baby, who has only the clothes of a six months' baby to cover her. Two small boys are hugging each other in a tumble down cot in the corner, trying to give and take the heat of their bodies. There is no coal, or wood either, for two days. What about food? There are a few crusts of bread left by neighbours not much better off. What can we do? Even a few more days of this and a cemetery will solve the problem for one or two of these kids, if you and I don't do something. Let's do it and do it quickly. Come on out of here and let's see another home.