Around July Fourth weekend of 1933, the year that unemployment in the United States soared near 25 percent, you might have expected the columns of The Sacramento Bee to be filled with despair and hardship.

Instead, the paper's 14 to 18 pages each day chronicled Life, capital L intended, in its infinite variety.

A marijuana farm was found and raided in Tehama County. Two major California banks were ordered liquidated. In the foothills, a "speakeasy bear" escaped from its saloon mascot role back to the wild.

Chico cut city salaries, 10 percent for top-paid people and 5 percent for others. Del Paso Heights slashed teacher pay.

Times were tough, but life went on. Along with the plummeting property values and other bad news came serialized fiction and poetry (Oscar Wilde) and social news: "Mrs. Essex Entertains Her Sister."

On the front page, the paper reported on President Franklin D. Roosevelt's views on a London conference to stabilize currency and on Mary and Douglas Fairbanks, who were "near divorce."

And, of course, there was a state budget standoff: 100 California government workers had been laid off, and the finance director said 1,500 more stood to lose jobs if the Legislature didn't fix things soon.

I traveled back to 1933, 1942, 1974 and the early 2000s via The Bee archives to learn how life looked to people here as they endured those hard times.

With unemployment at 11.5 percent in California and nearly double that in some counties, and with state budget problems dominating our headlines, we often speak of the future only as an alternative to the problems of today.

But the lessons of history, whose early drafts are written in news accounts, aren't just about enduring difficulty. They're about remembering, even amid pressing trouble, that there is a future to be built.

California is writing its next chapter, as is Sacramento, as is our nation, in a time that may be marked not by its challenges but by its lack of optimism.

Last Sunday, for instance, our feature "The Conversation" in this section considered proposals for dramatic reform in California's government.

Some readers saw merit in various ideas, but others dismissed entirely the notion that anything could be improved. Citizen reaction to government troubles, in fact, seems to consist of "throw the bums out," forgetting that we put these bums in and that voter initiative has helped shape our current dilemmas.

In looking through the old papers, from 1942 when battlefield news shared space with Hollywood gossip, crime summaries and community news; from 1974 when the prime rate stood at 12 percent and inflation was settling in for a long ugly spell; from the early 2000s when post-Sept. 11 fears and military base closings hammered California, I was reminded that hard times will always come.

Our choice isn't whether to experience trouble but how to respond.

California, the most populous American state, shapes the national story. Lately our elected leaders are feeling defensive and picked on by the rest of the country, including states with their own troubles, as a symbol of economic failure.

California, of course, is home to both Silicon Valley and Hollywood. Its history is rich with stories of invention and accomplishment.

Perhaps in these times of struggle, we should seek inspiration and instruction from our successes and our dreams. And in doing so, we can build the future California needs: the story we want told to our grandchildren of how we endured these hard times and prevailed.

This article was changed from the print version to correct the characterization of a 1933 front-page story in The Bee regarding President Roosevelt and a London economic summit.

Editorial research director Pete Basofin contributed to this column. Reach The Bee's editor, Melanie Sill, at (916) 321-1002.