t was 1937. My youthful days at McCune Home for Boys in Jackson County, Missouri, were history. The Great Depression of the 1930s was at its peak. Apprehension and confusion accompanied my release into a world of desperate, jobless, hungry men. At 17 I too became desperate and homeless.
The natural instinct to survive soon taught me to follow the trail of men searching for employment that would put bread on the table for their families. Often a rumor that there was work in another state caused men to “ride the rails” or “hop a freight” to be the first to apply for a job.
A Brush With Death
I experienced a time during which the bad seemed to exceed the bearable by a considerable margin. Because of my own carelessness I found myself in an area known for its violent treatment of transients by local authorities. I decided to head... »