The wedding went smoothly—money and people make for a good event. Plus, the Irish were relatively tight-knit, and in no time, hundreds of guests arrived. The nearby farmers, who had fled during tough times, were all connected by family ties.
Neighbors lent various tables, chairs, and benches to help out at the celebration. The yard in front of the house was packed with people. Even the priest joined in, raising a glass with the crowd. After all, when you're not wearing a collar, who isn't a bit of a drunkard? Everyone knew each other, and it wouldn't be surprising if some of the older women had once grabbed the priest's ear and given him a good smack, back in the day.
It was a rare and joyful occasion—celebrating Patrick and Campbell's wedding—with everyone happy and the atmosphere around the feast lively. Nair was running back and forth between the kitchen, carrying various foods and drinks, staying busy the entire time.
"Nair, I heard Patrick mention something about registering the land as corn fields? What's that about?" Campbell's father, who had rarely dressed in a suit, was wearing a half-new outfit today. He even combed his hair, making him look several years younger.
"Oh, about that, just wait a second..." Nair moved a box of whiskey he had brought earlier and carried it out.
The family had finally splurged on a refrigerator, so they now had ice-cold cola, and, of course, whiskey needed ice too. He poured some ice into a tin basin, offering to serve the drinks himself. He also poured a glass for Campbell's father, though Nair preferred the cola.
"I heard that after changing the registration, in a couple of years, we can get subsidies?" Campbell's father took a hearty swig of whiskey, feeling better and more lively.
"That's possible, but I can't say for sure." Nair, while knowing this was part of Roosevelt's New Deal, couldn't make any definite statements yet because it hadn't happened.
"You've been to school, seen the world, you're smarter than us." Avery, who was also of Irish descent, suddenly spoke up. Avery had brought his young wife, Carla, to the wedding. Carla, who was thirteen, was already pregnant—an unfortunate fact of the times. Nair wasn't in a position to judge.
"Yeah, yeah, you've been to school, you know the laws. We don't understand these things." Campbell's father immediately agreed. They were among the earlier immigrants, and there had been no opportunity for education in their time.
Take, for example, one of the most famous figures in West Virginia—Thomas Jonathan Jackson, also known as Stonewall Jackson. A distinguished Confederate general, he was highly praised for his bold and brilliant performance during the Civil War. Yet, this Scottish immigrant only received four years of elementary education, thanks to his relatively well-off family. If he had come from a regular farming household, he probably wouldn't have even had that much schooling. Eventually, through a stroke of luck, he was recommended to West Point by a senator from Virginia, where he started his rise to fame.
"Hmm, you all remember when the government raised the tariff on foreign agricultural products coming into the U.S.?" Nair started, sensing the crowd's attention.
The issue of the economic crisis was deeply ingrained in everyone's mind. It didn't matter if they were farmers or common folk—everyone had opinions about it. The Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act had been passed by the Republican government in an effort to boost support among bankrupt and low-income farmers, and it was heavily promoted within the farming community.
"Oh, yes, yes, they said that as long as foreign grain can't come in, our grain will be worth more," Campbell's father said, instinctively pouring himself another glass.
"But that's not how it worked!" Nair turned around and pulled out a newspaper.
Campbell's father, who couldn't read, didn't mind that Nair was going to read it to him. The newspaper clearly stated that after the U.S. sharply increased import tariffs, Canada—America's close economic partner—was the first to retaliate.
Canada's parliament held an emergency session and passed a counter-tariff law, imposing new tariffs on 16 products, accounting for 30% of the total U.S. exports to Canada.
What did that mean?
It meant that prices, already plummeting, had nowhere else to go.
The logic was simple, and Campbell's father and Avery quickly grasped it. By increasing tariffs, the price of U.S. industrial products lost their competitive edge in Canada. Canadians weren't fools—they would buy cheaper products from other Commonwealth countries instead of American goods.
As a result, U.S. products would be stuck at home, and to turn them into cash, the manufacturers would be forced to keep lowering prices—perhaps even below cost—just to sell them.
At this point, the farmers around them started to gather, quietly listening to Nair's analysis. It was directly relevant to their lives.
Those who could read took the newspaper and started reading carefully. Canada's reaction was all about blocking American products from entering the country.
"The politicians will change the law to get farmers, our votes!" Nair said, burping after finishing his cola.
"Then how will they change it?" Even Frederick and his father, Barend, who had been listening in, asked while holding their cups.
"As I see it, there are two reasons prices keep falling. One is reduced domestic demand, and the other is weak foreign exports. But in the end, it all boils down to overproduction!"
"We're growing too much grain?" people asked in disbelief.
"Yes! Our agriculture keeps growing, and we're producing too much corn, wheat, and cotton!"
"Ah…"
"So, I believe the government will change the laws, offering subsidies to farmers to let their land go fallow, so they won't plant economic crops, thus reducing the supply of agricultural products and raising prices."
Everyone understood now, some better than others, but they all nodded in agreement.
"Why not just buy up all the agricultural products and destroy them? Wouldn't that stabilize prices?" Frederick, who had a sharp business mind, quickly came up with another suggestion.
"Good idea, but here's the problem: do we small farmers hold more land, or do the large farms and big corporations control more land?" Nair saw it was Frederick asking and thought to himself, "This kid is trying to mess with my argument."