THE PEOPLE: Just Wounded

Edwin G. Nourse, chairman of the Council of Economic Advisers, which counsels the President, took a long look at the falling barometer of commodity prices last week. Newsmen prodded him for a weather report. Was this a crashing cloudburst, or just a heavy shower that might clear away some of the hot air of inflation? Economist Nourse adjusted his pince-nez. This, he said gravely, was a time for “masterly silence.”

Most economists were, like him, deeply silent or deeply disagreeing with one another over just what was happening. But the nation’s farmers—the people most immediately affected—thought they knew the score. They were sure that their golden era of super-high prices was over, but they did not think they were in for a frightful bust. They took their losses with stoicism or good cheer.

“Good for the Country.” Near Ford, Kans., 37-year-old Dale Steele, who farms 5,000 acres of wheatland, ruefully counted up what the 90¢ drop in wheat meant to him. Said he: “I’ve lost $54,000 in the last few days. That’s more money than I was worth in 1940. But I figure it’s just a paper loss. We haven’t been killed, just wounded.”

Near Goodell, Iowa, Farmer Albert Sheriff walked out among his herd of fine, fat swine. Three weeks ago, he could have got $27.50 a hundredweight for them; now hogs were down to $19.50. Said he: “I rode the market up and made money, and I’ll ride it down. I think the break is good for the country.”

The farm leaders and agricultural experts who gathered at the National Farm Institute in Des Moines felt the same way. They agreed that the break was a natural and much-needed corrective. Said one national farm leader: “We can’t say officially that the price drop is a good thing. But it is. The farmers have known that runaway inflation is dangerous to them. That’s why you don’t hear much grumbling.” Said Bill Davidson, an Iowan who went to Europe last fall with 21 other farmers for a hard, first-hand look at conditions: “We needed to get hurt, if we didn’t get set for this.”

A Cushion to Fall On. The trimming went deep. It caught the big operators as well as most of the small farmers. Oklahoma’s oil-rich Governor Roy Turner, a breeder of registered Herefords, swallowed hard when his best bull brought only $6,100 at his annual sale last week. Last year his top animal fetched $25,000. Montana’s “Wheat King,” Thomas Campbell, who said three months ago that he was holding all of his 610,000 bushels, said last week that the wise farmer would still hold on; there might be a pickup in prices because demand was still great. Wisely or not, most grain farmers were holding on.

There was one great difference between 1948’s decline and the commodity slide of 1920. This time the farmers had a cushion of cash to fall back on. Their banks were bulging with savings. Said Karl Wagner, an Iowa hog-raiser: “Very few of us farmers are out on a limb. We’ve got bonds stuck away for occasions like this. I’m staying in business.”