University of Virginia Library

V
Living With Less Under O. P. A.

When a nation devotes all its resources to winning a war, its economic
life is of necessity thrown out of balance. Certain goods once
plentiful become scarce. This may be due to increased consumption,
decreased production, or inadequate distribution, but the result is the
same: the demand exceeds the available supply. When this condition
exists, it is necessary to institute some form of control over the
disposition of the available supply of scarce goods so that it is
equitably divided and used to the best advantage of the community
as a whole. In the United States during World War II the rationing
of scarce commodities was handled generally by the Office of Price
Administration, usually referred to as O. P. A. Its regulations were
applied and enforced in Albemarle County and Charlottesville by
boards of local citizens. While some hardships inevitably resulted,
most scarcities involved little more than inconvenience.

Gasoline, Fuel Oil, and Tires

Indeed, the first touch of war passed over Charlottesville and Albemarle
County so lightly that it was scarcely felt. In the summer of
1941 the loan of a number of tankers to Britain threatened to create
a shortage of gasoline on the East Coast. Petroleum Coordinator
Harold Ickes in August restricted deliveries to all service stations in
the area and limited their operation to a seventy-two-hour week.
The only inconvenience resulting, however, was the occasional
stranding of a late traveler, and when the return of the tankers made
possible the removal of all restrictions on October 24, the shortage
was put down as a mere Washington panic.[1]

Hardly had the laughter at Ickes' scarcity died down before the
war was brought home to the motorist with a vengeance. In the
middle of the war bulletins which came crackling out of his radio on
that Sunday afternoon of December 7, 1941, was the announcement
that the sale of all automobile and truck tires had been suspended.
The car owner at once realized that he would have to revise his casual
peacetime driving habits to make his tires last out the war. By
December 21 local grocers had decided to limit deliveries to save

rubber, and Randolph H. Perry, secretary of the Charlottesville and
Albemarle Chamber of Commerce, urged the public to cooperate in
supporting this first conservation measure.[2]

Soon a program was under way to control the sale of tires. On
January 5, 1942, tire ration boards were named for the county and
the city. In time these same boards undertook the rationing of
other scarce commodities and set up a number of panels to handle
their various activities. Originally the Albemarle County War Price
and Rationing Board consisted of Edgar L. Bradley of Scottsville,
who became chairman, H. A. Haden, James Gordon Smith, Sr., and
R. F. Loving. Later, after Smith had resigned, Henry Chiles and
Mrs. Randolph Catlin were added. Mrs. Catlin, who worked as a
full-time volunteer supervisor in the board office from June, 1942,
until it closed, donated in the neighborhood of 6,000 hours of work.
In 1945 the county board panels included a mileage panel, fuel oil
panel, food panel, automotive price panel, and community service
panel. Originally the Charlottesville War Price and Rationing
Board consisted of Seth Burnley, who became chairman, W. Towles
Dettor, and J. Dean Tilman. Burnley resigned from the board on
October 15, 1943. Dettor succeeded him as chairman, and Mason
S. Byrd became a member of the board. Tilman also left the board
by resignation, and Dr. Thomas H. Daniel and Gus K. Tebell were
added as members. In 1945 the city board panels included a tire
panel, gasoline panel, food panel, price panel, and fuel oil and stove
panel.[3]

By January 14, 1942, the boards were ready to begin the task
of allotting thirty-five passenger and seventy-six truck tires, which
constituted their January quota, to certain essential motorists, such
as doctors, nurses, and policemen. The first certificates authorizing
the purchase of new tires in Charlottesville and Albemarle County
were issued to Dr. H. S. Hedges of Charlottesville, allowing him to
obtain four obsolete 32 × 4 tires and tubes, and to Silas Barnes,
Crozet trucker.[4] In February ration boards had to take over the
granting of recapping privileges, in order to regulate the rush of
motorists to get new rubber put on tread-bare tires. The distribution
of new cars to essential users also became a duty of the local boards.
All of this, however, was only an introduction to what car owners
were to face. On April 9, 1942, the War Production Board ordered
gasoline deliveries to service stations on the East Coast cut to two-thirds
of the average during the preceding winter months of December,
January, and February.[5] This measure was made necessary by
the transfer of tankers to military duties, which left a gap in civilian
supplies too large to be filled by the railroad tank cars which were
pressed into service to haul gasoline to the East. Voluntary conservation
was already saving gas as well as tires, but not as much as
was required by the new order.

The Office of Price Administration, therefore, prepared an emergency
program for rationing gasoline in the affected areas. On May
12, 13, and 14, city and county school teachers gave up their afternoons
to help motorists register and apply for gasoline. The blanks
were filled out under the honor system, with each owner asking for
as much gas as he thought he needed. His basic allotment was an “A”
card, which contained seven squares to be punched, each one good
for three gallons of gas. For those who needed more than three
gallons a week for essential purposes, there were three grades of “B”
cards, permitting the purchase of up to nine gallons a week. Finally,
certain essential workers, such as doctors, ministers, and government
officials, were given “X” cards authorizing unlimited purchases. No
restrictions were placed on commercial vehicles. Of the 3,639 car
owners registered in Charlottesville, 328 were granted “X” cards,
although some of these were returned when their recipients discovered
that they were not entitled to them. More than half the
applicants, 2,191, had to be content with “A” cards.[6]

This system worked fairly well for a time, although service station
attendants soon began to grow careless about punching the cards.
A new plan was put into effect in July, when the cards were replaced
by a book of ration stamps. All motorists again registered at
the schools on July 9, 10, and 11 for “A” books, which contained
six pages of eight stamps each, each page to be good for two months.
Those who needed more than this basic allotment of sixteen gallons
per month were required to apply to their ration boards for “B” or
“C” books.[7] These new books went into use on July 22.

Along with these restrictions went other conservation measures
designed to make gasoline and tires go farther. The Commonwealth
of Virginia lowered the speed limit to forty and later to thirty-five
miles per hour, and car pools of share-the-ride wage earners were organized
to fill empty seats in commuters' and workers' autos. Exchange
of tires among friends grew so common that Chief of Police
Maurice F. Greaver found it necessary to remind the Charlottesville
public of a city ordinance which required that any person acquiring
a tire from any person or agency not regularly authorized to sell
it must report on the transfer of ownership to the Police Department
within ten days.[8] This problem was practically solved in the fall of
1942 by the Idle Tire Purchase Plan, under which every motorist
was required to sell to the Federal government all tires he owned in
excess of five per car.[9] All surplus tires in the community were collected
at local offices of the Railway Express Agency, which shipped
them into a center where they were resold or scrapped. As part of
this program, the car owner was required to register the serial numbers
of all the tires he retained and to have them inspected regularly.
This plan was put into effect all over the country on December 1 as
part of the nationwide rubber conservation program.[10]

Closely allied to gas rationing was the rationing of fuel oil and
kerosene which began October 19, 1942, and continued throughout
the war. Because proper blank forms were lacking in Charlottesville
and Albemarle County, the registration of fuel oil and kerosene consumers
and dealers was postponed until November 5. Even then
coupons for kerosene were lacking, and dealers took care of their old
customers on a credit basis until the coupons were issued.

With fuel oil supplies on the Eastern seaboard inadequate to meet
the needs of users, all rations for heating were below the amount
needed to maintain room temperatures at the accustomed levels. Instead
of keeping his entire home at seventy or above twenty-four
hours a day, the fuel oil user began to shut off the heat everywhere
at night and in many rooms during the day. His family accustomed
themselves to lower temperatures in the rooms that were used. Often
this entailed some real discomfort. Fireplaces and other supplemental
heating units became the centers around which family life revolved.
People accepted the hardships but reserved the right to complain,
especially to their ration boards. The system of allotment was often
a bone of contention as inequalities were pointed out. Yet most
agreed at the end of the first winter that it was to be doubted if any
entirely equitable formula could be found and that, even if it could,
it would not make insufficient supplies of fuel oil furnish adequate
heat. Conversion to coal seemed to furnish the most satisfactory
solution to the problem for those who could so convert their furnaces.[11]

Meanwhile, the Charlottesville motorist had had his “A” allowance
cut from sixteen to twelve gallons per month on November
22, along with autoists throughout the rest of the Eastern Seaboard,
while the luckier drivers west of the Alleghanies were permitted sixteen
gallons. Another shock came on Friday, December 18, when the
sale of all gasoline except for emergency purposes was suspended at
noon. Advance news of this regulation caused long lines of cars to
form at every Charlottesville filling station that morning.[12] The sudden
move had been made necessary by a large number of counterfeit
stamps in circulation, which had permitted dealers to purchase gas in
excess of their quotas. Again the situation was met by restricting the
deliveries to dealers, regardless of the number of stamps they turned in.
The inflation created by the black market stamps was reduced by
lowering the value of “B” and “C” coupons from four to three gallons
each. By Monday, December 21. The Daily Progress commented,
“This morning the gasoline situation returned to normal,
or rather to the state of abnormality which has existed for many
months.”[13]

Even this twenty-five per cent deflation was insufficient, however,
to make up for the amount of gasoline which was being siphoned off
into the black market. In desperation the O. P. A. adopted an emergency

measure to prevent the wasting of gasoline on non-essential
purposes. On January 7, 1943, a ban was placed on all forms of
pleasure driving.[14] “If it's fun, it's out,” was the simple rule announced.
Compliance was general at first. At the end of a week
Police Chief Greaver reported that his men had discovered only three
violators after checking every pleasure spot in the city.[15] On Saturday
night, January 16, eleven cars were found parked near Memorial
Gymnasium during a boxing match between the University of Virginia
and V. P. I., but investigation disclosed that all but one of the
drivers had stopped off on their way home from work, a procedure
allowed under O. P. A. regulations.[16] The traditional hockey games
at Ivy managed to survive when the players learned to take in the
contest en route to pick up their laundry from washwomen in the
neighborhood.

Although local boards continued to find few violators, car owners
gradually grew restive under these unwanted restraints, and compliance
broke down. On March 17, 1943, therefore, the new O. P. A.
Administrator, Prentiss Brown, announced that enforcement of the
irksome pleasure driving ban would be abandoned, although he urged
everyone to continue to obey the spirit of the regulation. As if to
emphasize the need for conservation, the “A” allotment was reduced
to one and a half gallons per week.[17] Virginians' hopes for more adequate
gasoline rations perked up when it was announced on April 9
that the new 180-mile pipe line to Richmond was ready to bring in
30,000 barrels of petroleum products a day.[18] On May 20, however,
they were startled to learn that, instead of getting more gas, they were
to have the pleasure driving ban reinstated.[19] A force of O.P.A. agents
along with state and local police, promptly took to the highways to
question motorists. Another step to meet the situation was taken on
June 2, when the values of “B” and “C” stamps were reduced from
three to two and one-half gallons, and the system of allotting gasoline
to commercial vehicles was revised to stop leaks into the black
market.

Many Virginians felt that it was unfair to include the state in the
northeastern area of the severest gasoline shortage while neighboring
North Carolina went relatively unrestricted, especially in view of the
opening of the new pipe line to Richmond. Virginia Congressmen
Dave E. Satterfield, Jr., and S. Otis Bland conferred with Director of
War Mobilization James F. Byrnes in July over the situation, along
with representatives of other East Coast states. Satterfield stressed
the paradoxical fact that Virginia, at the terminus of a pipe line, had
received several million more gallons of gasoline in the first five
months of the year than in the same period of the preceding year but
nevertheless had been allotted less gasoline than ever before. The
Congressman asked in vain that Virginia be placed on the same basis
as other Southern states and that motorists be allowed to use their
rations as they saw fit.[20]

Although no change was made in Virginia's status, the East in general
was tossed a crumb a few days later with the announcement that
each motorist would be permitted one vacation trip if he could obtain
his ration board's permission. This concession was made possible in
part by the completion of the “Big Inch” pipe line from Texas to
the East Coast on July 19. Petroleum Administrator Ickes promised
that gasoline rationing would now be equalized throughout the country.
Any joy Eastern car owners may have felt at this news was
tempered by the simultaneous announcement of a ban on the sale of
new tires as spares, a symptom of the tightening rubber shortage.[21]

The promised equalization was slow in coming, however, as shipments
failed to keep up with even the rationed demand. The official
abandonment of all attempts to enforce the pleasure driving ban on
August 31 did not mean that supplies were better: the ban was revoked
only because the enforcement policy had failed to accomplish
the hoped-for results.[22] In October equalization was begun, but it
was accomplished partly by reducing all motorists between the Alleghanies
and the Rockies to the East's starvation levels. All “B” and
“C” coupons in the area were lowered to two gallons, while the
“A” allotment in the East was raised from one and a half to two
gallons per week immediately, with the promise that it would be
raised to three gallons on November 8, when complete equality with
the Midwest would be achieved.[23]

Slight as this improvment was, it marked the turning point of the
gasoline shortage. Never again did the situation get as bad as it had
been in 1943. An important factor in increasing legitimate supplies
was the O. P. A.'s merciless war on the black market. In June, 1944,
ration boards began issuing serially-marked gasoline coupons, which
were nearly counterfeit-proof. Every dealer who turned in counterfeit
stamps had them charged against his supply, with the result that
the gas bootleggers were soon put out of business. In order to continue
their evil operations, crooks resorted to theft of legal gasoline
coupons. Certain oil companies were victims, and on the night of
September 15 the office of the Charlottesville ration board on Fifth
Street was broken into and several “A” gasoline ration books were
stolen.[24] The only liberalization permitted during 1944 came on July
25 with the granting of furlough gas to servicemen at the rate of a
gallon a day up to thirty gallons. By February, 1945, the Charlottesville
ration board had issued approximately 3,829 “A” books to
automobile owners, and had given 389,489 gallons of supplementary
gasoline for use in passenger automobiles and 1,663,742 gallons for
use in trucks.

The arrival of V-E Day was followed by the raising of “A” allotments
to six gallons a week on June 11, 1945, and the Japanese offer
to surrender brought immediate abolition to all gas rationing restrictions.
On the morning of August 15, for the first time in more than

three years, Charlottesville and Albemarle County motorists were able
to drive into local service stations with the request, “Fill 'er up.”
Tire rationing ended on January 1, 1946, although tires were still
scarce. By the summer of 1947, however, supplies had become so
abundant that dealers were once more offering tires at cut prices, and
getting a new car was the only problem left to the local motorist.

Foods, Shoes, and Cigarettes

While the local motorist was nursing his car through the difficulties
of war, the local housewife was having troubles of her own. As early
as September, 1939, she found sugar temporarily scarce, when her
neighbors with memories of 1918 started carrying hundred-pound
bags away from grocery stores. Flour also was gathered up by the
hoarders, and both of these commodities temporarily jumped in
price.[25] In a few days everything was back to normal, and the brief
panic was almost forgotten. By 1941, however, the economic pressures
of the defense program were slowly forcing the cost of living
upward. In September the index of consumer prices stood at 8.1
per cent above the 1935–1939 level.[26] More real than percentages
to the housewife were the calculations she had to make to stay within
the family budget for food. In the two years since the Nazi planes
had first roared over Warsaw, butter and eggs on the local market
had jumped ten cents a pound, and meat had crept up a few cents.
Baking was more expensive, because shortening, flour, and sugar were
all higher. Even the week-end specials in September, 1941, seemed
costly: ham, 28 cents a pound; chuck roast, 21 cents; frying chickens,
dressed, 28 cents; sirloin steak, 40 cents. Butter was advertised
at 40 cents a pound, eggs were offered at 41 cents a dozen, and a tall
can of evaporated milk was available at 8 cents.[27]

As her pencil planned the purchases which could be squeezed out
of the market money, the housewife would have been startled to learn
that she would soon be sighing wistfully for the return of 1941's low
prices and ample quantities, which seemed to vanish in the smoke of
Pearl Harbor. By the spring of 1942 she discovered that Hitler's
U-boats were keeping bananas out of Charlottesville. More serious
was the Nazi subs' interference with shipments of sugar, which
brought back the buying panic of 1939. Storekeepers restrained the
would-be hoarders by selling sugar only in small amounts until the
O. P. A. could get its rationing program in operation.

Sugar rationing finally arrived in the first week of May, 1942.
School teachers and other volunteer assistants gave up their afternoons
and evenings from May 4 to May 7 to register the entire population.
In Charlottesville registration cards were signed for 22,060 persons,
including an unexpectedly large number of University students. To
all but the 970 who admitted having more than six pounds of sugar
a flimsy little folder called War Ration Book No. 1 was issued.[28]
Along the bottom edge were two rows of coupons to be used in buying

sugar and any other commodities which might be rationed. The
basic allotment for each person was half a pound of sugar a week.
In most cases this quantity, which varied only slightly throughout
the war, proved to be sufficient. The chief effect of the sugar restriction
was to reduce the number of cakes and pies baked weekly in
Charlottesville and Albemarle County ovens, a result which, local
Pollyannas readily confessed, proved beneficial to waistlines. Because
bootleggers were unable to get sugar to make liquor and because many
of the hot-blooded youngsters were in military service, the Albemarle
County jail was empty on May 24, 1942, for the first time in the
memory of Sheriff J. Mason Smith, who had served the county as
law enforcement officer for forty years. Normally the jail housed
twenty or thirty prisoners.[29]

Having taken its toll of banana and sugar shipments, German submarine
warfare soon added another food casualty. By September,
1942, coffee was being doled out carefully at local stores. To spread
the supply evenly, the O. P. A. announced that coffee would be
placed on the ration list beginning November 28.[30] Coupons in War
Ration Book No. 1 were made valid for the purchase of coffee at the
rate of one pound every five weeks. Statisticians calculated that this
would give each person one cup a day, a miserly ration in the opinion
of all coffee lovers. Long-despised coffee substitutes promptly disappeared
from grocery shelves.

About the same time another type of beverage went under sales
control when the Virginia Alcoholic Beverage Control Board restricted
liquor purchases to a quart a day as a preliminary to formal rationing,
which went into effect in January, 1943. With the manufacture
of beverage alcohol suspended for the duration of the war, meager
stocks were called upon to supply an increased demand. In June
The Daily Progress reported in an editorial that for three days “the
thirsty citizen of Charlottesville with spendable coupons supposedly
good for one pint might as well have been on a desert island as far as
his ability to buy legal whiskey was concerned. There just wasn't
any in pints—or in quarts either, for that matter—and only a very
limited selection in 26-ounce bottles, which are definitely a gyp size
under our rationing set-up.” By November the editor conceded, “If
Virginians get very little liquor, at least what they do get is of known
quality and is made available to them at a fair price, whereas if we
may believe the reports carried in the public press of other parts honest
whiskey has all but disappeared from the markets in many American
cities and prices, despite supposed O. P. A. ceilings, have soared
to fantastic heights.”[31]

These shortages of 1942, however, were only a preliminary warning
of what was to come. The local housewife had already been
reminded of the impending shortage of canned goods every time she
flattened a tin can for salvage drives. At the same time the national

appetite was growing faster than expanding agricultural production.
Young men in uniform required far more food than they had consumed
while wearing civilian clothes, and more people than ever were
able to afford beefsteaks and butter instead of hamburgers and oleomargarine.
During 1942 the nation had been living off its accumulated
fat of prewar years, but by 1943 it was necessary to take up a
notch in the belt.

Two new and comprehensive programs were announced in December,
1942. One covered processed foods, including practically all
canned, dried, and frozen fruits, vegetables, soups, and juices. The
other included all meats, except poultry and fresh fish, and all fats
but olive oil. The news of these programs was accepted in good spirit,
The Daily Progress reported. One merchant, who asked customers
not to buy more than half a dozen cans at a time, pointed out, “When
we explain things to them, most of them don't buy that much. This
rationing is going to be hard on delivery stores and will cause more
work for us as well as for the housewife, but it is the only fair way
to divide what food we have.”[32]

Once again more than 42,000 city and county residents registered
in the school rooms from February 22 to 26, 1943, for War Ration
Book No. 2. In order to get this book each family had to fill in a
declaration stating how many pounds of coffee and cans of food were
on hand at the time rationing began, and Books 1 and 2 were then
“tailored” accordingly by removing coupons for excess coffee or cans.
One Albemarle County family of three declared 2,167 cans, another
family of two, 975. Four out of five, however, stated that they had
no excess supplies.[33] Sometimes neighbors looked on these declarations
with suspicion, which was occasionally justified. One woman,
who declared only four pounds of coffee and ten cans of food, was
found by the O. P. A. to have had forty-eight pounds of coffee and
510 cans of food in her possession.[34] During registration an old man
came into the ration board's office to ask how he could buy sugar
and coffee. “The storekeeper keeps telling me to get a book,” he said,
“but there's no sense me getting a book; I can't read.”[35] A ration
clerk explained that to enjoy the kind of book he needed required no
literary attainment.

War Ration Book No. 2 introduced a new problem for the local
housewife. Designed for the point system, an innovation in rationing,
it contained four pages each of red and blue stamps. twenty-four
to a page. Horizontal rows were lettered. “A,” “B.” “C,” etc., while
the vertical columns were numbered “8,” “5,” “2,” “1,” indicating
the point value of each stamp. To enlighten Charlottesville housewives
concerning the use of the new ration book a meeting was scheduled
at Lane High School. but when the use of the auditorium was
denied to the speaker the meeting was cancelled and housewives were
left to solve their problems as best they could. In a letter to the editor

of The Daily Progress Henry McComb Bush explained why the meeting
had not been held. The speaker, although sanctioned by the O.
P. A., was an employee of the Southeastern Chain Store Council. Certain
local independent merchants refused to cooperate, expressing the
fear that the speaker was trying to put something over on them. The
use of the auditorium was denied on the technicality that it could not
be used by the representative of any commercial organization. After
expressing his admiration for the able and impartial way in which
the same speaker on another occasion explained in detail the use of
War Ration Book No. 2, Bush concluded by remarking, “This is a
startling example of lack of cooperation on the part of some of our
local merchants. At a time like this, lack of cooperation should not
be allowed to interfere with public benefits.”[36]

Blue stamps, designed for processed foods, came into use on March
1. They were made valid at the rate of three columns, or forty-eight
points, a month. With this quota in March, 1943, the housewife
could have purchased one can of peaches (twenty-one points), one
can of peas (thirteen points), one can of corn (eight points), and one
can of soup (six points). In terms of meals, she could have served
canned vegetables at about eight meals a month and canned fruit at
approximately six. She therefore had to eke out the family diet
with fresh fruit and vegetables, of which, fortunately, there was seldom
a shortage. On the other hand, when out of season these were
usually two or four times as expensive as canned food, and the
prompt action of the O. P. A. in freezing prices merely kept them
from going higher. A permanent change in eating habits resulted
from the fact that points were usually lower on frozen food than on
canned, while the frosted products were cheaper than fresh ones in
winter. Thus the people of Charlottesville and Albemarle County
learned to make frozen foods a part of their daily diet instead of the
occasional luxury which these had been in 1939.

Throughout February, 1943, the abattoir department of the
Elliott Ice Company was closed down for the first time since it opened
in 1912. Millard C. Elliott, president of the company, explained
that slaughtering had been suspended because though O. P. A. had
set up price ceilings on dressed carcasses, there were no price ceilings
on livestock. “As a consequence,” he concluded, “we cannot buy
livestock at present prices, since we would lose money on every animal
slaughtered.” The plant reopened March 1, but to operate at
only about one-fourth of its capacity.[37]

However, procuring meats and fats caused little trouble for the
local housewife before they went under rationing on March 29, 1943.
There was a brief scare on March 10, when someone reported hearing
over the radio that sales of butter would be frozen. The result was
a stampede which nearly emptied the Charlottesville stores of butter
that day. The flurry died down promptly and had been largely forgotten

by the time the sale of butter actually was frozen on March
22, in order to allow stocks to accumulate during the week preceding
rationing. Meat likewise remained plentiful, although the choice of
cuts was limited. Not until Saturday, March 27, the very last day
of unrestricted purchases, when housewives were packing their refrigerators
with meat, was any shortage noticed.[38] The initial ration
allotment required some reduction in the normal quantities of meat
eaten, permitting to each person approximatly a quarter-pound of
butter and two pounds of meat a week. Although changing point
values later lowered this quota, a family's consumption of rationed
beef, pork, and lamb could always be supplemented by ration-free
poultry and fish.

Adjustment to the new point system proved easy. In a few days
housewives had learned to count up purchases in points as well as in
cents. Butchers soon observed that shoppers were more concerned over
the number of red stamps which they would have to surrender for
any cut of meat than over the number of greenbacks required. The
O. P. A. also learned to change its point-prices like a shrewd merchandiser;
a slow-mover like dried prunes quickly dropped from
twenty blue points to none, while a fast-seller like butter jumped
from eight red points to sixteen in the first few months. In spite
of this increase, the demand for butter continued to outrun the supply,
as milk output was diverted to other dairy products. For the
same reason, canned milk went on the ration list in June, 1943. On
the other hand, the first sign of a turn for the better came when coffee
went off the list of rationed foods in July.

The summer of 1943 also brought a modification in the canning
sugar program. During 1942 allotments of sugar to families for canning
fruit had been made at the rate of a pound for every four quarts
put up in previous years, with no maximum limit to the amount of
sugar to which one could thus become entitled. With commercially
canned fruit rationed, however, many new families were expected to
join the ranks of the canners-at-home in 1943, and the government
wished to encourage this movement. Past practices in preserving
fruits were therefore ignored, and families were now granted for use
in canning up to twenty-five pounds of sugar per person. Two stamps
were validated for five pounds of sugar each. Those who needed more
applied to the ration board for their allotments, listing the quantities
of fruits and jellies they wished to preserve. This greatly simplified
the procedure and eliminated many of the complications and
delays which had been experienced in 1942. During 1944 the county
ration board issued coupons good for 364,116 pounds of canning
sugar, and the city board issued coupons for 281,460 pounds. The
county board reported approximately 20,000 applications for sugar
during the three year period 1942 to 1944, inclusive.

One other development of the summer of 1943 was the expiration

of the first shoe stamp. Shoes had been put under rationing in
a surprise move on February 7, with Stamp No. 18 in the sugar book
being made good for one pair until June 15. As that date approached,
many housewives discovered unused shoe stamps in the family's books,
and to keep them from “going to waste” they dashed into town to
buy shoes, overwhelming stores and clerks. One weary manager advertised
the next day: “We wish to express sincere appreciation to
you, our customers, for your patience during the recent 'Grand Rush'
for shoes. ... Our store will be closed Wednesday and Thursday to
give our employees a much-needed rest and to check our stock. J. N.
Waddell Shoe Co.”[39]

This was the only local excitement over shoe rationing, although
it continued until October 30, 1945. The individual allotment of
two to three pairs a year was more than adequate for the men, but it
failed to make concession to feminine fashions. As a result, Father
often had to surrender one of his stamps to buy Daughter a pair of
party slippers. This type of informal reapportionment within the
family served to smooth out any serious inconvenience. Apparently
more city than country residents had occupations which were hard
on their shoes, for the Charlottesville board issued 525 special shoe
stamps in the one year 1944, which was in sharp contrast to the
Albemarle County board's experience of issuing only 787 special shoe
stamps in three years.

Meanwhile, the point system was using up ration books rapidly.
By the middle of September, 1943, all the red stamps in War Ration
Book No. 2 were gone, and similar brown stamps in Book No. 3 had
taken their place. This book, distributed by mail during the summer
also contained stamps bearing pictures of guns, tanks, planes, and
ships. A few of the airplane stamps were validated for shoes, but the
rest were never used. In October Book No. 4 was handed out to
40,549 residents of the city and the county.[40] This contained pages
of green, blue, and red stamps, similar to those in Book No. 2, except
that they were only half as wide, besides two pages of stamps marked
“Spare,” “Sugar,” and “Coffee.” The “Coffee” coupons, O. P. A.
explained, had been prepared while the beverage was still on the
ration list.[41]

Another simplification came when the red and blue ration tokens
went into circulation on February 27, 1944.[42] These fiber disks provided
change, and made mental arithmetic involved in counting point
prices much easier. The value of the stamps was changed to ten points
each, with each token being worth one point.

During the second week of March, 1944, a survey was made of
Charlottesville retail food stores to determine the extent to which
O. P. A. regulations were being observed. The twenty-three volunteer
inspectors, who worked under the Charlottesville War Price and
Rationing Board's price panel, of which the Reverend H. A. Donovan

was chairman, visited fifty-five stores. In only sixteen did they find
full compliance with all regulations; however, there was general agreement
among O. P. A. personnel that willful instances of ceiling price
violations were decidedly in the minority. The thirty-nine stores
violating regulations were about equally divided between those which
failed to post ceiling price lists and those which by carelessness or
misunderstanding made charges above ceiling prices. Most overcharges
were for canned goods. In Albemarle County a like survey
showed that most of the 110 stores were complying. Twenty-seven
violations of meat and canned vegetable price ceilings were noted,
and a number of stores did not have a proper ceiling price list posted.[43]
During the first three years of rationing about twenty price checks
were made in both the city and county stores. There were a few cases
in which merchants were fined and patrons collected triple damages
because of overcharges, but the great majority of merchants tried to
keep both the letter and the spirit of the regulations.

The appearance of the ration tokens seems to have marked a general
improvement in the food situation. Point values were cut in
March and again in April. Canning sugar was available almost for
the asking. In September, as Allied armies rolled back the shattered
Nazi forces in France, most meat cuts and all canned vegetables,
except tomatoes, were removed from rationing. By mid-December,
however, when the supposedly beaten Germans suddenly struck back
in the Ardennes Forest, the belt had to be retightened. On Christmas
morning the housewife, who had experienced great difficulty in finding
a turkey for the holiday, learned that most of the food stamps
she had been saving had been cancelled.[44] A week later, on New Year's
Eve, further demands were made on her reduced stock of points by
the return of most foods to the ration list. On January 19, 1945,
lard, shortening, oils, and citrus fruit juice were put back under rationing.

It was, however, an unrationed commodity for which people
shopped most diligently during the winter of 1944–1945. By November
cigarettes were difficult to find and throughout the following
months the supply fell behind the demand to such an extent that
dealers' shelves were customarily bare. A shipment of any brand
was sold out almost as soon as it was opened. Smokers would shop
from store to store for hours and then stand in line interminably for
the privilege of buying a package of any brand. When he literally
did not know where his next smoke was coming from, the average
citizen felt like lynching the lady who boasted that she had a hoard
of seven cartons of a favorite brand cigarette. Indeed a man who
appeared in a downtown drug store casually carrying a quantity of
leaf tobacco under his arm had the nicotine addicts remarking, “Lucky
fellow, he's fixed for smokes.”[45] Sooner or later nearly everyone
tried rolling his own with varying degrees of success. One lady shopping

in a Richmond department store discovered a machine selling
for a quarter which did an excellent job of cigarette making. She
invested three dollars and on her return to Charlottesville quickly
disposed of the extra machines to her grateful friends. Gradually
supply caught up with the demand for cigarettes so that by the end
of 1945 a smoker was again able to pass his pack around in a crowd.

The canning sugar program announced in February, 1945, was
much stricter than that for 1944, and ration board allotments were
reduced thirty per cent below the previous year. Even V-E Day
on May 8 brought no relaxation in the O. P. A.'s grim outlook.

On June 1, 1945, the Elliott Ice Company, which was again having
trouble with O. P. A. regulations, announced that unless the
objectionable provisions were rescinded, it would close its abattoir
department on Saturday the ninth. The company objected especially
to R. M. P. R. Order 169, which required custom slaughterers to
“remit” to dealers who owned the cattle and calves which were
dressed an amount sufficient to make the total cost of the carcasses
to the dealer come under the O. P. A. ceiling prices for dressed meat.
The regulation, which was designed to prevent dealers from paying
excessively high prices for livestock, made the slaughterer a policeman
whether he wished to be one or not and penalized him heavily
if he slaughtered animals bought by dealers at the prevailing high
prices. The announcement of the impending closing of the only
slaughterhouse in the area caused considerable consternation as the
University of Virginia Hospital, the Blue Ridge Sanatorium, and
ten retail butcher shops were dependent upon the Elliott abattoir
for their meat. One merchant sent a telegram to O. P. A. Administrator
Chester Bowles saying. “We have cattle at Elliott's abattoir
waiting to be slaughtered purchased fully under MPR 574. Elliott
advises OPA restrictions don't permit him to slaughter them. We
have our quotas established by your office for June. What good is
a quota if you block us at the slaughterhouse? Can't you instruct
Elliott to slaughter these cattle? We have been slaughtering at
Elliott's abattoir for 34 years.”

The O. P. A. district director, J. Fulmer Bright of Richmond,
defended the regulation, saying that it should not force any established
abattoir to discontinue business, or anyone else for that matter
except the dealer who patronized the black market by purchasing
cattle at a price above the ceiling, or the dealer who paid excessively
high prices within the ceiling.

On the eighth a meeting of the Albemarle Farm Bureau discussed the
possible effect of the closing upon the farmers of the county. Several
representatives from the district O. P. A. office in Richmond who
were present stated that a revision of the regulations eliminating the
objectionable provision was expected. They pointed out that O. P. A.

had never ordered the Elliott Ice Company to close its slaughterhouse
and so could not, as some people suggested, instruct them to keep
it open.

Monday, June 11, the abattoir remained in operation, but no cattle
or calves were accepted from dealers for slaughter. Taking advantage
of a provision exempting persons and institutions which had
animals killed for their own consumption from the operation of the
“kick back” provision, the Elliott Ice Company continued to slaughter
cattle and calves for both the University Hospital and the Blue Ridge
Sanatorium. Hogs and lambs were slaughtered for all comers, but as
merchants' quotas for pork were limited to fifty per cent of their
sales for the same period the year before, only lamb was available in
normal amounts at the local meat markets.

Soon the controversial regulation was rescinded, and the abattoir
resumed slaughter of cattle and calves for all customers on June 21.
There was but little improvement in the local meat supply, however,
until after July 1 as most dealers had already used up practically all
of their quotas for the period. In July meat dealers were allowed
to handle fifty per cent of the amount of pork handled in July, 1944,
seventy-six per cent of beef and veal, and 110 per cent of lamb. Most
local dealers were able to find meat to fill these quotas.[46]

Preliminary negotiations preceding Japanese surrender were followed
immediately by the end of processed food rationing on August
15, and the meat-fat program was dropped on November 24. This
did not mean the return of plenty insofar as meat and butter were
concerned. The continuation of price control kept production down,
and supplies got scarce.

With the return of peace Coordinator of Civilian Defense Seth
Burnley wrote each member of the Charlottesville War Price and
Rationing Board thanking him for his loyal service. “When I
asked each and every one of you to serve this community,” he said,
“no one refused although you knew full well that you would be
criticized, and the work would require a lot of your valuable time
and energy and at times I know it took all of your patriotic zeal and
fortitude to continue. ... May our peaceful days now bring you
much happiness with the knowledge that you have finished a job
'WELL DONE'.”[47]

When the O. P. A. controls expired temporarily on June 30,
1946, meat returned in abundance but at high prices. The restoration
of price ceilings on September 10 brought Charlottesville the
worst meat shortage it had experienced. For a month butcher shops
were bare until the price control was finally lifted on October 15,
leaving sugar rationing the only important survivor of wartime food
controls. When that, too, was ended in June, 1947, the Charlottesville
housewife could do her week-end shopping with nothing to

remind her of the war—except the new prices, which were sometimes
double those of 1939. One Charlottesville shopper, who had
been forced to discontinue buying butter, the price of which had
climbed out of sight, compared the cost of things which went into
the market basket in June, 1946, before the end of O. P. A., with
the cost of the same items in October, 1947. The results were
startling and discouraging.[48]

                           

	June, 1946	October, 1947
Pork chops, 1 lb.	$0.37	$0.65
Eggs, 1 doz.	.47	.80
Sausage, 1 lb.	.35	.49
Coffee, 1 lb.	.24	.41
Bread, 1 loaf	.12	.14
Potatoes, 10 lbs.	.31	.41
Tomatoes, 1 lb.	.15	.13
Cabbage, 3 lbs.	.08	.15
Soap, 1 large cake	.10	.18
Flour, 10 lbs.	.54	1.05
Peas, 1 can	.13	.16
Milk, 1 can	.10	.12
	$2.96	$4.69

Housing and Rent Control

In January, 1942, nearly two weeks before President Roosevelt
requested all Washingtonians not engaged in essential war work to
leave the already crowded capital, Randolph H. Perry, executive secretary
of the Charlottesville and Albemarle Chamber of Commerce,
wrote Representative Howard W. Smith suggesting that non-essential
residents of the District of Columbia move to the uncrowded communities
in neighboring states. “I am sure,” he explained, “that
many of these small cities are in the same position as we in Charlottesville,
where, due to the rapid decrease in University enrollment,
many houses and apartments in the University section of town will
be vacated. For this reason we could take care of a considerable number
of the people from Washington.”[49]

By May many inquiries regarding housing were being received,
particularly from Newport News, Virginia, and Washington. At
the same time it was thought that many vacationists who had habitually
gone to the now crowded seashore resorts were considering inland
recreation, but the difficulties of travel made their coming uncertain.
Actually there was a great decrease in the number of tourists.
A survey published in December, 1942, indicated that in spite of
some gain in population. Charlottesville still had housing facilities
available for nearly 1,000 people. The county meanwhile had suffered

an actual decrease in population. As relatively adequate housing
continued to be available throughout the early war years, rent
control was not instituted in Charlottesville and Albemarle County
until well after V-J Day.

The housing picture, however, was not actually as rosy as it
seemed. In 1940 Albemarle County had had 5,942 dwelling units
of which only 5,513 were occupied, and Charlottesville had had 5,519
of which only 5,269 were occupied. Together county and city had had
679 vacant dwellings, but many of these were sub-standard. In
1940 the average renter paid $15.28 per month in Albemarle County
and $30.46 per month in Charlottesville. As in most other localities,
nearly all house construction was suspended during the war
years. In 1942, for example, building permits authorizing only
$78,515 worth of construction were issued in Charlottesville, as
against $1,047,808 in 1939. During the decade ending in 1942
the annual average had exceeded $450,000. An increasingly large
deficit in housing accumulated until the return of peace found Charlottesville
with a shortage of dwellings.[50]

The opening of the School of Military Government at the University
of Virginia on May 9, 1942, brought a recurring influx of
Army officers. These men, who expected soon to go overseas, frequently
rented homes and brought their families to Charlottesville.
The officers in time finished their courses and departed, but, charmed
by the community, their families often remained for the duration.
Thus Charlottesville filled up with Army families.[51]

For various reasons many landlords were unwilling to rent to families
with small children. On March 23, 1944, the classified advertisement
column of The Daily Progress carried an appeal. “Are
children a disgrace in Charlottesville? I am the wife of a Marine in
active service, with three children under five years old. I am trying
to find a three to five room apartment where I can make a home for
them while their father is risking his life daily to protect you and
your children, but I am turned from every vacant place I have found
on account of the children. I have references from every place I
have lived. I am not asking charity, I am asking a home. Is it a
sin to have children in Charlottesville and to bring them up as law
abiding citizens? Is there a real red blooded patriotic property owner
in Charlottesville who will rent me a home?” Mrs. George H.
Hawkins, who made the appeal, received many answers and soon was
located in a comfortable four-room apartment.[52]

In the early summer of 1945, at the request of the Office of Price
Administration, the Bureau of Labor Statistics of the U. S. Department
of Labor made a survey of rent conditions in Charlottesville.
In July reports of excessive rentals being charged by landlords caused
Mayor Roscoe S. Adams to make a personal investigation of conditions.
He concluded that the rent situation was “going from bad

to worse” and that some form of control was needed. The local
press meanwhile editorially condemned those landlords who had
“taken advantage of wartime conditions to exact unreasonable increases.”
After waiting a reasonable time for the announcement of
O. P. A. action, Mayor Adams sent telegrams to the deputy O. P. A.
administrator for rent, to Senator Harry F. Byrd, and to Representative
Smith asking whether or not a ceiling would be placed on rents
in the city. On August 8 Representative Smith reported that O. P. A.
did not think the situation in Charlottesville justified rent ceilings.
The same morning a letter informed the mayor that one large property
owner had increased his rents twenty-five per cent as of September
1. Disappointed by the refusal of O.P.A. to take action, Mayor
Adams was left without any effective means of checking rising rents.
Because conditions had changed a great deal for the worse since the
Department of Labor survey and because the city of Charlottesville
was literally bulging at its seams so far as living quarters were concerned,
he felt another survey was needed.[53]

In a surprise move on January 3, 1946, J. Fulmer Bright, O. P. A.
district director, announced that rent control would be established
in Charlottesville and all of Albemarle County starting February 1.
On that date all residential rentals were to be rolled back fourteen
months to the October 1, 1944, level. Although there was comment
that it had been too long delayed, the action was generally
hailed with approval. After expressing his delight that the government
was taking the situation in hand, Mayor Adams added,
“It is a sad commentary, however, on the conduct and business tactics
of a small minority of the citizens of Charlottesville that such
a step became necessary.”

Landlords voiced most of the opposition. F. L. Harris, president
of the local Real Estate Board, conceded that the situation was
critical and that some rents were too high, but he concluded that the
O. P. A. had acted too late. “They have set October 1, 1944,
which was the peak of prices, as a base,” he admitted, but he also
contended, “It will not work because in justice to property owners
each case will have to be based on a fair return.” After reviewing
the history of local housing construction, he asserted, “There is only
one way to relieve the building shortage in Charlottesville and other
cities: for the government to release building materials and controls,
so that the independent contractors, builders, and producers can get
into the game.”[54]

One renter, a veteran of World War II, replied to the landlords.
“If you have raised the rent on any of your apartments since April,
1941, so much as one dollar without making some structural, ornamental,
or furniture change, so as to make it a better place in
which to live, then in my estimation your rent isn't exactly fair.”
On the same day another renter suggested that the O. P. A. “bring

along workers that shall help us fix up our homes, which are badly
in need of all kinds of repairs.”[55]

Before the coming of rent control efforts had been made to increase
housing in Charlottesville. Recognizing the acute shortage, on February
1, 1945, the National Housing Agency designated Charlottesville
an area in which existing buildings might be converted so as
to provide additional housing units, and during the summer construction
on most of sixty-five new homes authorized by the National
Housing Agency was underway. A special committee of the
Chamber of Commerce, headed by Haynes L. Settle, made a survey
in December of the housing needs and suggested that a corporation
be formed to construct fifty houses to rent for about forty-five or
fifty dollars a month. Later the committee made a trip to Lynchburg
to inspect the prefabricated houses set up there. However,
the most immediate relief to the housing problem came in the form
of one hundred expandable trailers installed on Copeley Hill for
married students at the University.[56]

Bernard P. Chamberlain of Charlottesville, who had been serving
as rationing executive in the O. P. A. district office in Richmond,
was named area rent director for Charlottesville and Albemarle
County on January 18, 1946. His office was located in the County
Office Building in the space formerly occupied by the Albemarle
County War Price and Rationing Board. In announcing the appointment
the O. P. A. district director said, “Mr. Chamberlain is
splendidly equipped to fill the post through training and experience.
As rationing executive he had the responsibility of handling an
annual budget in excess of $100,000 and had supervision over about
thirty-five employees. He conducted this department in a masterly
and efficient manner. As rationing attorney he brought distinction
to the district office by developing certain procedural techniques which
were adopted by other districts throughout the United States.”

When rent control became effective February 1, it was announced
that landlords had until March 15 to register their property with
the area office, although the new ceilings were effective at once. Special
registration periods were held in Charlottesville, Crozet, and
Scottsville, during which volunteer workers explained the rent control
regulations and assisted property owners in preparing forms.[57]

Some home owners who otherwise would have rented rooms to
war-veteran students at the University of Virginia were unwilling
to do so because of their fear of “red tape.” By February 21 reports
to this effect had become so numerous that Chamberlain felt it necessary
to refute them. After pointing out that anyone who had an
extra room could do a conspicuous service by renting it to a veteran
who was trying to get an education under the G. I. Bill of Rights,
Chamberlain declared that the reports had been based on misconceptions
of the rent control regulations. “In the first place,” he

said, “there is very little Government red tape involved in leasing
rooms. Secondly, undesirable roomers may be evicted promptly.
Thirdly, the rent ceilings generally prevailing here in September,
1944, were sufficiently high to insure a reasonable profit to any landlord.”
Generally speaking, the people of Charlottesville and Albemarle
responded well to the appeal for rooms for veterans, so well
in fact that the University was able to enroll more students than it
had ever before thought possible. A few property owners, however,
remained for a time reluctant to rent houses which they hoped to sell
in the near future because they were not sure they would be able to
evict a tenant at the time of sale.[58]

As March 15, 1946, approached there was a rush of landlords to
register their properties. By the twelfth approximately 3,150 housing
units had been registered, over 300 registrations being received on
that day. It was estimated that there remained seven to eight hundred
housing units to be registered. About 125 landlords had also
filed petitions for upward adjustments of rent. On the other hand,
numerous tenants requested downward adjustments. Commenting
on conditions found in Charlottesville, Lunsford L. Loving of Roanoke,
deputy rent executive for Virginia, who helped set up the local
office, said he was shocked by the high rents found in some cases and
added that rent control was needed in the city far more than in any
other area in which he had worked. The demand for homes was so
great that a “House for Rent, ten minutes drive” advertisement in
the newspaper brought sixty prompt replies.[59]

When O. P. A. expired at midnight, June 30, 1946, rent control
temporarily ceased to exist in Charlottesville and Albemarle County.
Stepping into the breach, the Real Estate Board asked property
owners not to raise rents and reminded them that if rents went up
Congress would have to reestablish some form of control. The
Board also set up a Fair Rent Committee with H. T. Van Nostrand
as chairman to review cases of unfair rents and to use “moral pressure”
to keep rents at approximately O. P. A. levels. The committee
had little chance, however, to show what it could do since
rent control was restored without change on July 26. Meanwhile,
many landlords had increased rents. In an atmosphere of rising
prices this was to be expected. A few of these same landlords had
been guilty of exceeding O. P. A. ceilings and had been forced to pay
triple damages to their tenants. Now they were anxious to charge
all the traffic would bear. A report from the Richmond office of
O. P. A. that rents in Charlottesville had increased forty-two per
cent in the first week of July was branded as exaggerated, but Chamberlain
expressed the opinion that rents had risen thirty per cent,
while Leonard H. Peterson, executive secretary of the Charlottesville
and Albemarle County Chamber of Commerce, said the rise had been

less than ten per cent. Whatever the amount of the increase, tenants
welcomed a return to the June 30 level.[60]

A year later, July 1, 1947, rent control was again extended, but
in a somewhat modified form. The average citizen by this time
had become accustomed to rent control, and, if he had a home, he
accepted the extension thankfully. There were many, however, who
had been unable to find living quarters. In October, 1947, more
families were living doubled up than ever before. In Charlottesville
over 500 households were sharing living accommodations. Recent
marriages, the return of additional servicemen, and increased enrollment
at the University created a demand for homes which exceeded
the supply of new houses, hundreds of which had been constructed
during the preceding year.[61]

During the war public opinion concerning the Office of Price Administration
was as various as the individual natures of the millions
affected by its regulations. Many felt that it was oppressive. In the
early part of the postwar transition era higher prices and a disillusioning
continuation of relative scarcities in nearly all types of consumer
goods made some citizens reconsider and reverse their adverse
judgments. As prices continued their upward spiral during the
summer and autumn of 1947, when rental ceilings were the last
remaining vestige of the formerly comprehensive program of O. P.
A., there was constant talk to the effect that rationing and price control
should be revived. At the same time mounting construction
costs impeded efforts to solve the housing problem and left many
veterans wondering when they would get the home of their own
for which they had traveled half way around the world to fight.