Updated: Nov. 11, 2010 added video
In 1930, when my father was an 8-year-old kid in Chicago, he asked his older brother why people were outside in the cold snow in a long line.
His brother Harold said, “It’s a bread line. They don’t have anything to eat. They’re hoping for bread.”
My father ran to his mother’s bedroom, grabbed my grandmother’s diamond brooch, ran downstairs, and gave it to a man in the line.