Dad believed he’d learned enough about farming in high school to get by until “horse sense” kicked in. If he could get his brothers to pool resources with him, they could build a mushroom plant and begin harvesting by the first of the year. Depression times caused folks to view mushrooms in a new light – not a mere side dish with a juicy steak, but a protein-rich steak substitute. Dad’s brothers saw his plan as a way to fight The Great Depression, and his mother, our feisty, little Scottish grandma, said to count her in.

Of all things folks might do without when they’re short of cash, mushrooms might top my list. Yet Dad chose to grow mushrooms during The Great Depression. He adapted three limestone caves for mushroom farming and presided over mushrooms with the agility and savvy of a ringmaster in a three-ring circus. He cleaned and aired one cave and harvested and marketed from another while prepping the third for a new crop.