Hillbilly Elegy

that I only dreamed about.
Mamaw listened intently to my
experiences at Dillman’s. We began to
view much of our fellow working class
with mistrust. Most of us were struggling
to get by, but we made do, worked hard,
and hoped for a better life. But a large
minority was content to live off the dole.
Every two weeks, I’d get a small
paycheck and notice the line where
federal and state income taxes were
deducted from my wages. At least as
often, our drug-addict neighbor would
buy T-bone steaks, which I was too poor
to buy for myself but was forced by
Uncle Sam to buy for someone else. This
was my mind-set when I was seventeen,