PatrickD
Hero Member
- Jul 23, 2012
- 845
- 700
- Detector(s) used
- Garrett AT Pro
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
Hi Everyone,
I ran across this article:
1940 census may provide clues to Depression-era posthole banks - Dallas Treasure Hunting | Examiner.com
Here is the census search link:
http://1940census.archives.gov
Text is below.
Good luck.
Patrick
----------------------------------
Eyewitness to treasure
In a small town in North Texas, a young boy, about 10, sits in his living room, gazing out an open window. It's nighttime, but silver moonlight casts a soft glow on the small frame house across the quiet street; shadows from a giant oak, its roots splitting the sidewalk, play against the dull clapboard siding.
The boy is bored. There are no video games in the early '50s to distract young brains. No television, no computers and no iPods to occupy the senses. The familiar groaning of an opening screen door catches the boy's attention. He squints his eyes toward the house across the street. A man's slender shadow falls across the front porch. The screen door eases shut. The man moves from the shadows into the moonlight. He pauses, looks one direction, then the next.
The man steps off the porch, disappears into the darkness and re-emerges carrying a shovel. He moves across the front yard and stops near the fence line by the dirt alley, pausing a final time to look around.
After a few strokes of his shovel, the man pulls a jar from the hole he has dug. He unscrews the lid, pulls something from his pocket and places it in the jar. He screws on the lid and reburies the jar, covering the hole with dirt, smoothing it with his hands and spreading grass clippings and dead leaves over the bare spot. It all takes only minutes.
The boy watches as his neighbor again disappears behind the house, returns minus the shovel and steps onto the front porch. He slips back inside the house, closing the creaky screen door behind him.
The next day, the boy tells his parents that his neighbor has been hiding money in a jar in his front yard. His parents dismiss the story as either his imagination or, at best, none of his business.
As the nights go by, the boy makes a game of spying on his neighbor, who returns to his underground "bank" several times, sometimes adding, sometimes removing his secret treasure. The boy's surveillance also reveals another location under the front window in the soft loamy soil of the flower garden.
Months later, the neighbor is dead, victim of a hit-and-run accident. The house has new owners. Rumors circulate around the neighborhood that the new owners find cash hidden in the walls when they do some remodeling. The boy grows up and moves away, but he never forgets the treasure that he is sure remains buried in his neighbor's front yard.
Posthole banks: The poor man's cache
The above story is true, as told to the author. A man who didn’t trust banks or, in this case, who wanted to hide money from his wife, kept it hidden in easily accessible locations around (and apparently inside) his home.
Stories of "posthole banks" are common in treasure hunting lore. Tales of misers, or just ordinary folks, hiding small stashes of cash instead of putting their money in banks are especially prevalent during the years of the Great Depression, when distrust of banks ran deep.
Most people didn’t have much money in the 1930s, but the few who did have cash guarded it carefully. They were wary of another financial crash like the one that sent the country into the Depression, and they did not trust banks to safeguard their money. But pulling up a fence post, hiding a Mason jar of gold or silver coins in the hole, and then replacing the post made a “bank” that was easy to get to, reliable and easy to remember. It was also risk-free, provided nobody else found it.
As the treasure story above shows, of course, hiding places were not limited to postholes. People hid money wherever was most convenient and accessible for them. That might have been in the wall of their home, under a floorboard, at the base of a tree, in a cellar or barn floor, in a garage, in the attic—or even in an outhouse.
Looking for clues in the census
The U.S. Census Bureau recently released the 1940 census records. The records, kept confidential for 72 years, are now available online to the public for free.
Finding any kind of treasure requires research, and this latest release could be an important tool for the treasure hunter looking for a posthole bank treasure. Since the Great Depression was probably the most active time in history for posthole banking, the information provided is valuable. Whether you are looking for a specific posthole bank or simply interested in exploring your town or neighborhood for potential caches, the 1940 census may help in your search.
For example, you can use the records to help verify information passed down through your family. Was your great-grandfather rumored to have buried some gold coins on his property? The census might tell you how much money Grandpa made the year before. If he had an above average income, the rumor has a better chance of being true than if he was in the bottom percentage of earners and would have had little or no cash to hide.
Among the facts reported on the 1940 Census are the following:
Name, age and address
Occupation
Home value
Farm or nonfarm
Marital status
Head of household status
Education level
Place of birth
Employed or unemployed
Previous year’s wages and income
Veteran status
Place of residence five years prior
Citizenship
Mortgage amounts
Home amenities such as radios and “flush toilets”
At first glance, the information seems innocuous, but to a persistent treasure hunter, many of these facts can be used to either locate potential hunting sites or confirm the accuracy of treasure tales passed down through oral tradition or gleaned from the literature. The revelation of an income earner who made more than $5,000 per year should be looked at carefully; this would be considered in the top percentile of earners during the Great Depression. Keep in mind, however, that moonshiners were not going to reveal their income to the government, so context is important.
Where to start
The online database is not currently searchable by name, so you will need to do browse through the website by state, county and street name to find the appropriate “enumeration district.” And, of course, if you already know the enumeration district, that will speed up your search. The National Archives website, official site of the 1940 census, provides step-by-step instructions, so just visit the site and follow directions to get started. Eventually, a huge team of volunteers will convert the information into a searchable database. Until then, you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way.
Posthole banks might not be the biggest treasures, but they may often be more credible than some of the legendary tales of gold bars stacked up like cordwood in a cave. And using the 1940 census in creative ways might make your dream of finding a posthole bank come true.
I ran across this article:
1940 census may provide clues to Depression-era posthole banks - Dallas Treasure Hunting | Examiner.com
Here is the census search link:
http://1940census.archives.gov
Text is below.
Good luck.
Patrick
----------------------------------
Eyewitness to treasure
In a small town in North Texas, a young boy, about 10, sits in his living room, gazing out an open window. It's nighttime, but silver moonlight casts a soft glow on the small frame house across the quiet street; shadows from a giant oak, its roots splitting the sidewalk, play against the dull clapboard siding.
The boy is bored. There are no video games in the early '50s to distract young brains. No television, no computers and no iPods to occupy the senses. The familiar groaning of an opening screen door catches the boy's attention. He squints his eyes toward the house across the street. A man's slender shadow falls across the front porch. The screen door eases shut. The man moves from the shadows into the moonlight. He pauses, looks one direction, then the next.
The man steps off the porch, disappears into the darkness and re-emerges carrying a shovel. He moves across the front yard and stops near the fence line by the dirt alley, pausing a final time to look around.
After a few strokes of his shovel, the man pulls a jar from the hole he has dug. He unscrews the lid, pulls something from his pocket and places it in the jar. He screws on the lid and reburies the jar, covering the hole with dirt, smoothing it with his hands and spreading grass clippings and dead leaves over the bare spot. It all takes only minutes.
The boy watches as his neighbor again disappears behind the house, returns minus the shovel and steps onto the front porch. He slips back inside the house, closing the creaky screen door behind him.
The next day, the boy tells his parents that his neighbor has been hiding money in a jar in his front yard. His parents dismiss the story as either his imagination or, at best, none of his business.
As the nights go by, the boy makes a game of spying on his neighbor, who returns to his underground "bank" several times, sometimes adding, sometimes removing his secret treasure. The boy's surveillance also reveals another location under the front window in the soft loamy soil of the flower garden.
Months later, the neighbor is dead, victim of a hit-and-run accident. The house has new owners. Rumors circulate around the neighborhood that the new owners find cash hidden in the walls when they do some remodeling. The boy grows up and moves away, but he never forgets the treasure that he is sure remains buried in his neighbor's front yard.
Posthole banks: The poor man's cache
The above story is true, as told to the author. A man who didn’t trust banks or, in this case, who wanted to hide money from his wife, kept it hidden in easily accessible locations around (and apparently inside) his home.
Stories of "posthole banks" are common in treasure hunting lore. Tales of misers, or just ordinary folks, hiding small stashes of cash instead of putting their money in banks are especially prevalent during the years of the Great Depression, when distrust of banks ran deep.
Most people didn’t have much money in the 1930s, but the few who did have cash guarded it carefully. They were wary of another financial crash like the one that sent the country into the Depression, and they did not trust banks to safeguard their money. But pulling up a fence post, hiding a Mason jar of gold or silver coins in the hole, and then replacing the post made a “bank” that was easy to get to, reliable and easy to remember. It was also risk-free, provided nobody else found it.
As the treasure story above shows, of course, hiding places were not limited to postholes. People hid money wherever was most convenient and accessible for them. That might have been in the wall of their home, under a floorboard, at the base of a tree, in a cellar or barn floor, in a garage, in the attic—or even in an outhouse.
Looking for clues in the census
The U.S. Census Bureau recently released the 1940 census records. The records, kept confidential for 72 years, are now available online to the public for free.
Finding any kind of treasure requires research, and this latest release could be an important tool for the treasure hunter looking for a posthole bank treasure. Since the Great Depression was probably the most active time in history for posthole banking, the information provided is valuable. Whether you are looking for a specific posthole bank or simply interested in exploring your town or neighborhood for potential caches, the 1940 census may help in your search.
For example, you can use the records to help verify information passed down through your family. Was your great-grandfather rumored to have buried some gold coins on his property? The census might tell you how much money Grandpa made the year before. If he had an above average income, the rumor has a better chance of being true than if he was in the bottom percentage of earners and would have had little or no cash to hide.
Among the facts reported on the 1940 Census are the following:
Name, age and address
Occupation
Home value
Farm or nonfarm
Marital status
Head of household status
Education level
Place of birth
Employed or unemployed
Previous year’s wages and income
Veteran status
Place of residence five years prior
Citizenship
Mortgage amounts
Home amenities such as radios and “flush toilets”
At first glance, the information seems innocuous, but to a persistent treasure hunter, many of these facts can be used to either locate potential hunting sites or confirm the accuracy of treasure tales passed down through oral tradition or gleaned from the literature. The revelation of an income earner who made more than $5,000 per year should be looked at carefully; this would be considered in the top percentile of earners during the Great Depression. Keep in mind, however, that moonshiners were not going to reveal their income to the government, so context is important.
Where to start
The online database is not currently searchable by name, so you will need to do browse through the website by state, county and street name to find the appropriate “enumeration district.” And, of course, if you already know the enumeration district, that will speed up your search. The National Archives website, official site of the 1940 census, provides step-by-step instructions, so just visit the site and follow directions to get started. Eventually, a huge team of volunteers will convert the information into a searchable database. Until then, you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way.
Posthole banks might not be the biggest treasures, but they may often be more credible than some of the legendary tales of gold bars stacked up like cordwood in a cave. And using the 1940 census in creative ways might make your dream of finding a posthole bank come true.
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