In the heart of the depression.

1932.

The economy was a mess and there was nothing much to do With adventure in my soul.

John Kelly by my side.

Inspired me to roam.

Across the country we ride.

Started out in Vandergrift.

Car box 13.

East and north.

I drift has beautiful scenes.

Up to New England all the way.

Well, tramps travel, but they don't work and Bums don't do either.

They just don't travel.

They don't work.

He had a friend, John Kelly Zidek Joe promised his family and friends that he would send postcards and letters home whenever he could.

And throughout his travels through over 100 cities and towns, he mailed home a lot of postcards.

Started out in Vandergrift car box 13 East and North I drift has beautiful scenes.

Up through New England all the way to Portland, Maine, each whistle a command pack in my name.

I was a hobo.

There were thousands of us.

So many thought we were loco.

In our travel rooms of rust.

142 cities throughout 48 states.

Nearly 15,000 miles riding them freights.

Headed down the Atlantic across the Gulf Coast.

Mosquito swarms were frantic in the southern heat and roads up to the Midwest to Chicago, where John Kelly.

Now listen to Joe's words exactly as he had written them in his 1932 journals.

Now it was time for us to go down to the railroad station to get a train.

We heard the bell and the whistle started to run.

Got there on time.

So we jumped right behind the engine and we were off.

All set for Portland, Maine.

Made 2 or 3 stops and landed at Portland station with a bull and station master waiting to greet us.

I saw the bull and started up the avenue at full speed.

Was a whole block from the bull when he grabbed Kelly.

He asked our names and where we got the trains.

Then the conductor came along and demanded the fare from Dover to Portland, a buck 62 each.

We told him we didn't have it.

The bull called the patrol buggy.

We rode through town, stopped at the jail.

They unloaded us, locked us up, gave us two biscuits and a couple of cups of water.

Kelly sang a few songs, and at about 11 p.m., we fell asleep.

Got up at seven, waited till nine for court.

There were a few cases before ours and Kelly's and mine.

This is the verdict.

Five bucks fine.

Six months parole.

So we didn't have to pay the $5.

Probation officer makes out our parole cards, and he asks us, when did we eat last?

Of course, we told him two days ago.

He was big hearted and he slipped us a buck.

We thanked him, went to the post office.

We mailed some cards home, looked over the town.

We saw the Atlantic Ocean.

During the 1930s, hobos often slept in jails for a night.

They were given food but then told to leave town.

There were times, though, when hobos were arrested, put in jail, then brought to court.

They would either then be fined, given a jail sentence, or kicked out of town.

Made Battle Borough, Vermont at 6 p.m.. Got some information about lodging and they suggested the police station.

So in there about 9 p.m.

We were placed in good cells, two blankets and a cushion.

So we fell asleep immediately.

And at 11 p.m., night crew came on duty.

So the chief says, all right, boys, downstairs.

And that's the place for the bums to sleep.

He turned to us and said, where are you guys from?

We told him, well, get downstairs and sleep with the rest of the bums.

He says, about ten guys lying on cots and sleeping.

One guy just came in about 15 minutes and said he couldn't sleep.

Too damn many bedbugs biting.

He picks a few up and showed them to us.

We decided to get out of the jail and sleep in a boxcar.

We walked along the tracks, picked a nice clean car with lots of paper.

So it's about 11:30 p.m.

and we fell asleep fast.

We went to Hartford, Connecticut.

We went to a park, saw a baseball game.

After the game, we went to a mission, had our supper.

We sat around in the library and looked over some books.

Then we walked around town.

Now it is time to sing on the roof.

Well, after singing, we took a bath and go to bed.

Get up at 7 a.m.. Ate breakfast.

Now it's Monday, August 15th.

Hobos often found a bed, bathrooms and food at the Salvation Army and the missions.

But they were different.

The Salvation Army, often called the Sally, preach the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The missions had a spiritual outreach.

They were ordered to sing religious songs on the roof and listen to sermons.

This is the price they paid for their meal and a place to sleep.

We landed in New York City at 6 p.m.. We walked up Broadway and back down at Columbus Center and Broadway.

There were three meetings in progress.

First, a health speaker and a spiritualist.

Second, unemployed workers.

Third Salvation Army.

About a thousand people listening to all three meetings.

So we walked up Broadway again to 63rd and it started to rain.

We rushed into the park and bought a hotdog for $0.05 and a glass of lemonade that was free.

About 10 p.m.

we went to sleep under a viaduct by a newsstand, got up at 8:30, took a subway to Jersey city.

Arrived in Philadelphia about 6 p.m.. Started a bum supper.

Got a loaf of bread, half pound of minced ham, six eggs, pecan rolls and tomatoes and two sandwiches.

So we went down to the jungle.

Boiled eggs.

We also had some bacon.

So we sat around the jungle for a while.

Time was passing fast, so at 9 p.m.

we went to a switchman shanty on the hump and got a cup of coffee and a place to sleep.

There were about 40 men working on the hump.

So at 9 p.m.

I fell asleep and at midnight the whole gang of switch men came in, made lots of loud noise, and started to shoot craps.

I joined in, I won $0.30.

Then yard master came round and ordered the men to work.

So they went to work.

Came back in an hour, resumed the crap game, and again I, like a fool, joined in.

I lost the $0.30, which I won an hour ago.

Now it is Saturday, August 20th, 1932.

We started for the freight yards, missed the first freight.

So we went under the bridge.

Met a Negro from North Carolina.

Gave him some eats we had left over.

We were sitting under the bridge for four hours, and someone walked above us on the bridge and threw an empty pie plate.

So this Negro looks up and said, O Lord, O Lord, send me down a pie.

I know you made more when you made that one pie.

The Lord did not respond to his prayer.

It is Monday now, August 22nd, 1932.

We went down the roadways.

Kelly walked 100 yards away from me, stopped at a dog zoo.

The boss met him and asked if he was looking for work.

Kelly said yes sir and said, I have a buddy up the street.

Will you hire the two of us?

Boss said sure.

Kelly whistled for me.

I came down, boss said if I wanted to work too.

I said yes, sir.

Well, he took us all over the kennel, told us what we had to do.

Get up at 6 a.m., milk the cows, come in, eat breakfast.

Go out again.

Clean manure from 500 dogs, cut weeds, feed dogs, water them and do one thing or another all day long till it gets dark.

And only $1 a week.

I asked if he would give us supper today Oh, sure, said he.

He said we could wash our clothes and take a shower back.

We took advantage of both.

I washed my shirt, BVD pants and socks.

They had a 492 model washing machine.

We put the clothes out under the sun at about 6 p.m., and we began to talk about our new job with the boss.

He asked how long we expected to stay on the job.

We told him all winter.

He said he was looking for somebody who would work for him all year round.

Well, we said if we liked it wed stay all our lives.

Well, it's 9:30 in time for family to go to bed.

They went to bed.

Kelly was lying on the hammock waiting for me.

Well, here is where we decided we did not want the job.

We knew the farmer was getting out of bed at 6 a.m.. Well, we said we'd get up at daybreak and run away.

Boy, we slept like a log till 5:30 a.m., and the farmer was up too.

Told him we're going to the barn.

He said, okay, well, we got up around the side of the house through tall grass, corn and weeds and started for Washington.

That is all we wanted was supper and a place to sleep.

We got to Richmond.

I went down to the post office and got a three foot letter from EDP and went to the park, read the letter and answered it.

Sat around the park for a while, then we went to the Sally, took a shower.

Both went to bed at 9 p.m.

and we both got up at 6:30.

Had to work for an hour for breakfast.

I had to sweep the sidewalk and peel some potatoes.

Well, now we go to the freight yards and found out that the freight leaves at 6 p.m.

and it was only 10 a.m.. So we sit around the jungles for a while, and at 1 p.m.

went to look the town over from A to Z. We saw the old capitol of the Confederate States and saw the old Saint John's Church.

The famous Patrick Henry made a speech in that church.

Give me liberty or give me death.

We stood for a moment in the exact spot that old Pat stood in.

So now it's time for supper.

We can only eat about half of it, and gave the other half away to three lady bums, two husbands, and one baby.

So started for the freight yards.

Freight leaving at 4 p.m.. Tried to get it, but the darn thing did not stop.

So the next freight doesn't leave for 24 or 36 hours.

So we find a passenger in the same place where the freight was supposed to stop.

We rode the passenger halfway between Savannah and Jacksonville, Florida and got put off at Water Tank.

This is in the wilds of Georgia.

All a person can see between Savannah and Jacksonville is swamps and forest.

So we're stranded in the wilderness of Georgia, a thousand miles from no man's land.

We have to walk ten miles to the next station to catch a freight.

Only 12 houses in this little town of Belman, Georgia.

We had to spend $0.25 for crackers, sardines and jelly.

Bummed a couple of sandwiches and cakes from the railroad workers.

And on top of that, we had to wait 24 hours for the next freight and talk about the mosquitoes biting my arms, neck and back.

It's just full of mosquito bites, and the drinking water's terrible.

Tastes like old rotten eggs.

People around here say it's the most beautiful water in the world.

If you ask me, it's rotten.

The weather is so darn hot youd burn up in one hour under the sun.

Sweat rolling off all parts of your body.

Just as though it was raining.

I had to take off all my clothes except for my pants and shoes.

And my pants were very wet right now.

At the present time, I have more mosquito bite humps than a pickle has warts.

We're waiting for a freight to Jacksonville.

Georgia newspaper articles tell of people caught riding freights or passenger trains without paying being put in jail, or put on a chain gang.

Got to Brooksville, Florida at 8 a.m.. We ate breakfast, took a bath in cold water.

Also shaved.

It's September 1st and it's the first time I shaved since July 28th.

Got a new shirt and a pair of pants.

Sat around, watched a card game and ate dinner.

After supper we played cards till midnight.

Went to sleep in a tourist cabin.

First night's sleep in a bed was good.

Slept until nine.

After breakfast, went to Tampa.

Drove all over Tampa.

Saw Davis Island.

It's very beautiful.

Drove over and out to see the famous Eber city.

The tough district of Tampa.

So now we're on the way to Brooksville.

After we got there, I went to the post office, but no mail.

We played cards till midnight.

Went to bed at 1 a.m.. Somebody awakens us at 8:30 in the morning.

Here it was, Minnie.

She said, there's a truck going to Washington, DC.

I said, I'm not going.

Kelly said he is.

So I had to leave the place too.

So we hurried and dressed and drank a cup of coffee and was on the truck at 8:45 a.m.. Well, Kelly said he's going home.

I told the driver to leave me off at Baldwin, Florida.

Well, I got off, said goodbye to Kelly.

Joe met a few friends from home during his hobo travels.

It was just a coincidence when he met his friend Minnie, who moved to Florida and worked in the tourist cabin where he and Kelly slept.

It was at this time Kelly, his traveling friend, decided to part ways with Joe and headed back home to Vandergrift.

Now, Joe faces the dangers of traveling as a hobo all alone.

Got back to Tallahassee about 3 p.m., started uptown and saw the state Capitol.

Has a silver dome.

And after dark, I went to one of the biggest hotels in Tallahassee.

Asked for something to eat.

She said you would have to chop some wood.

I said, okay, well, I took about ten minutes to chop the wood.

Then I sat down for my supper.

Oh, boy.

Big plate, chock full of chip kidney meat and some other kind of meat.

Mixed potatoes, lettuce, sliced tomatoes and a great big glass of iced tea and a piece of lemon pie.

Pretty good feed for a bum on Labor Day, I think.

I go down to the railroad yards, tried to catch a freight, but got kicked off.

Well, it's 9 p.m., so I go to a boxcar and I fall asleep.

Well, it's 9:00 now, and a freight is ready to leave.

I hopped on, stayed on five minutes and got kicked off.

So I ran back to the back and hopped on again.

Well, the bull followed me back and said, get the hell off, and stay the hell off.

Well, I did get off.

Try it again.

But he was watching too close, so I stayed the hell off.

The Bulls were railroad cops.

Their job was to prevent damage to railroad property and freight cars.

Went down to the freight yards.

Waited three hours for a freight to New Orleans.

So I hopped on and I wanted to get off at Biloxi, Mississippi.

But I fell asleep on the freight.

Never woke till I got to New Orleans.

Hobos would jump onto boxcars for a free ride on the rails.

They would often sleep and eat in them, plus meet up with other hobos.

As soon as I jumped off, I met four guys.

They told me to watch myself around these yards because the bull just beat four of them up.

They were in the yards trying to catch the freight that I was on, and that's when the bull caught them.

I jumped over a fence, landed in a baseball park.

By luck, there was a water spigot in this baseball park and I washed myself.

Got up on the road, walked to town, got to the post office, got a letter, went to the park and read it.

Then I went to a mission, washed up, ate supper spent lots of time at the French market.

Got lots to eat.

These markets never close.

Well, I went to the mission, fell asleep, got up at 6 a.m., went to the barber college.

Got a nice haircut by an expert hair cutter.

Now I start looking the town over.

Walked up Canal Street, bummed a cake, went down the docks.

Big boat comes in from New York.

Again up the French market.

Bum $0.15 cash.

Sweet rolls and some fruit.

Well, it is 10 p.m., and I wanted to sleep outdoors but the skeeters are busy tonight.

I went to the mission and fell asleep.

I got up at 7 a.m., got the usual coffee and bread.

It started to rain again and I went to a little shanty.

Well, it stopped raining and I went to bum my supper.

First house I went to the lady fries three eggs, six strips of bacon, four slices of bread, two pieces of cake and a leg of chicken.

Said she was sorry she didn't have any supper ready.

Boy, the eggs and bacon filled me up.

After I got through eating, she told me if I'm in town again to stop in and see her guaranteed me something anytime I came to New Orleans.

Later I found out it was a big gambling house.

The freight came by.

I hopped on bull was inside.

I hopped off, got to the end of the freight.

Stayed on till I got to Baton Rouge.

Slept on a flatcar under a track.

Got to Vicksburg at 4:30 a.m.

Tuesday morning.

Waited till 7 a.m.. Went uptown to get breakfast.

Got it.

Came back to the jungle, laid around for a while.

Found out what time the freight goes to Memphis, Tennessee.

I have to wait until Wednesday, September 14th.

Well, it's dinner time.

Went to town, bummed a house.

Got a sit down.

She gave me fried liver, some other kind of meat, Cornbread, three slices of white bread, beans.

That was a pretty good dinner.

Hobos communicated with each other using hobo signs.

They would find these signs on fences, trees and buildings.

A hobo would know who would be kind and generous by providing a sit down, which means a good meal or know where it would be safe to sleep.

Coming north from Vicksburg to Memphis, it's about 235 miles, and all I could see on that freight ride was cotton, cotton and more cotton.

All along the Yazoo Valley, the scenery was interesting.

I had a few offers made to pick cotton at $0.50 100 pounds, but I didn't plant any, so that's why I didn't pick cotton a good cotton picker averages 150 to 250 pounds a day.

Imagine what I would earn picking cotton.

By the time I got the freight to Fulton, Kentucky, there were 40 in the boxcar.

Got to Fulton at midnight.

Went to sleep at 12.

Got up at 7 a.m., slept in an old boxcar, went uptown, got a jelly roll and some other cakes.

I came to the jungle and made some coffee.

After breakfast I boiled my two shirts.

Washed them nice and clean.

An old man shaves me at the jungle.

This is my third shave since July 30th.

And today is September 17th.

Put my shirt's out under the sun to dry.

A couple more hobos came to the jungle with a pint of shine.

Offered me some, but I refused.

After a half hour, two guys get sick from the booze.

Luckily, I didn't drink any.

This is a part of the hobo code.

Decide your own life.

Don't become a stupid drunk.

Try to stay clean and boil up whenever possible.

This is a community jungle.

Pitch in and help out.

Then a truck came by.

Was going to the cinder pile.

He whistled for me, I came down, he asked if I wanted to make a little change or tobacco money.

I said sure.

I took the shovel and he went to the roundhouse.

Said he'd be back about 20 minutes.

Well, I shoveled five shovels and another guy comes around, said he wanted to help me.

I said I'd give him a dime for loading the truck.

He said, all right.

So he started a pile to the truck to the top.

It was a one ton truck, and so the truck was loaded.

I gave him a dime.

He was glad.

The truck man gave me $0.30 for the job.

The guy said I was a pretty good worker.

This is Saturday night.

All the farmers are in town doing their Sunday shopping.

I thought they never had seen a hobo before the way they all stared at me.

I was a hobo, not a bum or a tramp.

No ID or logo, no position in the cans, blankets, and newspapers, boxcars.

My abode.

Every day was a caper for these Knights of the road.

I got to La Crosse, Wisconsin, about 8 p.m., went to a police station.

They turned me away.

So I found a boxcar with a load of paper, made myself a nice bed, fell asleep at 10 p.m., got up at 9 a.m.. I never slept so long yet.

Well, it was pretty chilly out and I had the doors closed.

I was waiting for the sun to get up, but how could the sun get through the doors of a boxcar?

I went uptown, walked into a restaurant, asked the manager for a bite to eat.

He said no.

I walked into a baker shop, ask for something to eat.

The lady asked me if I can work.

I said sure, well, she said, go to the rear and help the baker.

I had to clean about 42 pans, came to the lady again, told her I was finished working, so she gave me about 6 pounds of mixed cakes, jelly roll buns, donuts.

I went to the jungle and made coffee.

Ate my baloney and cake.

Started off to Minneapolis.

More bums here than at Saint Paul.

Well, I walked around the pawnshops looking for pants.

Couldn't get any.

So I finally snitched a brown pair.

Tried to get a blanket, but too many around.

It's 3 p.m.. I went to the Union City Mission to register.

Met a guy from Pittsburgh.

I had to work three hours for supper, bed and breakfast.

But since I was from Pittsburgh, the guy said he would exempt me from work.

I talked with him for about 20 minutes.

He said it was good to talk to a guy from his old home town.

It was lucky I knew the names of a few streets around Homewood.

Got a freight to Montevideo, Minnesota.

A little too late to listen to the ball game.

I packed my grub for breakfast.

Found a caboose with a stove in it, made a fire, fell asleep around 8 p.m.. I had a big fire when I fell asleep.

Woke up at 3 a.m.

to pee.

Fire was out.

No more coal.

So I covered up with my coat.

Got up at 7 a.m.

and I had a little head cold.

Met a farmer and he said it was the coldest night they had this year.

It was the morning of the 28th of September, 1932.

So I went to the jungle and had some coffee and water left over from the night before.

And this coffee and water was frozen about one fourth inch of ice on top.

Looked at the thermometer and it showed 88 degrees at noon.

At night it was about 20 above.

I got my dinner with ease.

Made it my business not to miss the second game of the World Series.

I went uptown, all washed up, and sat in front of a radio store, and I was in on the big ballgame.

There was a World Series between the New York Yankees and the Chicago Cubs.

Babe Ruth had hit a home run in the second game, a Yankee victory.

Hopped on the tender and got to Aberdeen.

This is Sunday morning, October 2nd, 1932, 11 a.m.. There are five other bums beside me in the jungle.

One bum is cutting another bum's hair with a comb and razor.

And I'm in the boxcar writing.

Right now I have $0.78 cash, two shirts, two pairs of pants, one coat, one cap, two pairs of shoes, strings, four books and cigarette papers.

One sack of Duke's mixture.

Pair of goggles, new piece of soap, half pound of coffee and sugar.

The only thing I have on me that I had when I left home is a sweater, and BVDs.

All the other clothes are new to me.

The pair of shoes I have on now are three weeks from the store.

It is the fourth pair since I left.

Total miles at this point 5279.

This is as close as I could possibly get.

You know, this is unofficial, but this isn't wrong by much.

For most meals I got did whatever I could.

Washing windows, cleaning pots.

Cooking, chopping wood.

In the shadows of a steeple in the alleys of decay.

Met so many nice people that help me along the way.

I was a hobo, not a bum or a tramp.

No ID or logo.

No position.

October 6th, 1932.

Freight came in at 3 a.m.. Got an empty.

Got to Miles city, Montana.

Crossed the Yellowstone River, started to bum eats.

Got turned down all but one place, a bakery.

All others send me to the Beanery.

Got the ticket for Beanery.

Walked up town.

Saw an old stagecoach used during the wild and wooly days of the west.

Plenty of cow punchers walking up the street with their horses tied.

Missed the first freight.

Had to wait 24 hours for the next.

There's plenty of snow on the ground about four inches.

First snowfall of the year.

Joe's hobo journey started out in July as an adventure, but after two months, his trip became difficult.

He was sick with a head cold and the deep snow and cold chilled him to the bone.

Well, at 3:00 the freight was leaving west only 45 miles west of Foreside, Montana.

Played rummy on the freight, dropped a dime, got to Forsyth at 5:30 p.m.

and went up town.

All the stores were closed.

I stood on a corner for half an hour.

Only seven people passed me.

I touched them all and only one was good for a dime.

I scattered around, spotted a blanket, got it.

Someone saw me.

I took to my heels, got away.

Lots of snow on the ground, but it's very warm.

I hid the blanket, inquired about a freight going west.

At 10:30.

I went and got the blanket and went through the tank.

Joe was having more difficulty getting money.

The famous actor Clark Gable was also a hobo who had a hard time.

Another hobo helped Gable.

They followed the hobo code.

Help your fellow hoboes.

You may need their help someday.

Got to Billings, Montana at 7 a.m.. Went to the Sally.

Went to a poolroom for a while.

Bum some grub.

Got a pair of rubbers, pants, shirt, sweater vest and a cap.

Now I'm all prepared for the mountains.

Having already seen snow and caught a cold, Joe was preparing for the cold weather that lies ahead.

I was a hobo, not a bum, or a tramp.

No ID or logo.

No position in the cans.

Blankets, and newspapers, boxcars.

My abode.

Every day was a keeper for these nights on the road.

I got to Spokane at nine at night.

Made a fire.

Boiled coffee.

Slept in an old boxcar.

Now I bummed two pairs of silk socks and bread, donuts, cake, steak.

And was going to the jungle and cook.

Brought coffee, went to a house for some onions.

She asked what I wanted to do with the onions.

I told her, fry them with the steak.

She said, bring your steak in here and I'll cook it for you.

Oh, I brought it in.

She fixed everything right down to a T. She was a big socialist.

Talk to me for about an hour about politics.

Asked me when I was leaving town.

I said at 9 p.m.. She told me in case I missed the freight to come on back.

And I was sure of a place to sleep.

Well, at 7 p.m.

I went to the freight yards and caught the freight.

The woman Joe called the Big Socialist was a member of the 1932 Socialist Party.

At this time, thousands were jobless and homeless.

In the following presidential election, the Socialist candidate would receive 888,000 votes.

So I got to Salem, Oregon, met two guys in the jungle with a banjo and a saxophone.

They played about nine numbers and it started to rain.

So I go uptown.

Same old song.

City hall.

I went up, got stew and milk.

I didn't like the stew, but I drank the milk.

A lady, two kids, about three and one years old, with her hubby came in to eat dirty as pigs.

I pitied them, but I watched them put two stews apiece away.

I got to Klamath Falls, arrived at noon at a house, put me to work chopping wood, got a steak dinner, all the steak I could eat.

Found out her husband worked in a butcher shop.

She told me to chop some more, so I did.

Thought I was going to get some money, but I got surprised and didn't get any money, but more steak in a bag.

Freight going to California at 8:30.

Couldn't find any empty car, so I had to ride a gondola.

I was warm all over but my toes and they were plenty cold.

I found some paper, took my shoes off, wrap paper around my feet, put my shoes and rubbers on, and slept from midnight till the sun got too hot.

Came through Redding, California.

An Indian fella tried to hop on this freight I was on.

He missed the step.

Got the leg cut off.

I saw him after he pulled himself away from the cars.

The freight never stopped.

Next division, I was to go uptown and get some grub.

Walking up, talking to a brakeman.

He asked if I had seen the fella that got his leg cut off.

I said yes, I saw him after it was cut off.

Calls me up to the yard office.

Bull tries to kick me out of the yard.

Brakeman said, now let him go.

Cop up in the yard office said, you have your breakfast yet?

I told him no.

He brought me hot cakes and two cups of coffee.

I told him I saw that guy after he got his leg cut off.

That's all there was to it.

Plenty of other guys saw it, but I was the only one to get anything out of it.

After being sick and freezing from the snow and cold, Joe realized how dangerous riding the rails can be.

He now faced death when he saw an Indian jumping onto a train car and had his leg cut off, almost face serious injury and death.

When they tried to hide under the train cars and ride the cow catcher.

I was a hobo, not a bum or a tramp.

No ID or logo, no position in the cans.

Blankets and newspapers, boxcars my abode.

Everyday was a keeper for these nights on the road.

This October 22nd morning, I went through San Jose.

Paso Robles.

Now it's all mountains.

Went through five tunnels, all within a half a mile.

Two miles down further, there were two pretty U-turns.

Better than the one at Altoona coming over the mountains.

Three engines on this freight and gold tree.

The turn is almost a perfect horseshoe.

Riding near a town named Surf.

Was the first thrill I had since riding freight.

It was going about 50mph downgrade and only about 30ft away, the Pacific Ocean was roaring.

Freight was going faster.

A big one curve was ahead and a small bridge.

I thought the freight was going to plow into the ocean, but later I saw the bridges.

It's 2:00 in the morning and I hit the city limits of LA.

Went under a bridge to finish the night's sleep.

Well, I'm now in the heart of Los Angeles.

Go to the midnight mission.

Took a bath, got a good haircut.

I got a ticket to a burlesque show when it's 6:00, came out at eight.

Boy, what a place that theater is.

I went to the Midnight Mission and slept well.

Got a pair of pants, two pairs of socks.

All different colors.

Started for the freight yards.

I slept on the freight coming in.

Jumped off at Las Vegas, Nevada.

Walked the streets about two blocks.

Got picked up and put in the brig.

I was searched, took everything from my pockets.

Then they locked me up.

Well I thought I was getting 30 days in here, I got breakfast.

At 9:00 I went up before the judge.

He said, you're charged with vagrancy.

Do you plead guilty or not?

I pled not guilty.

Went on with the case in detail.

So the verdict was suspended until 9:00 the next morning.

Then they asked me if I would get out of town if they released me.

I promised to get out of town on the first freight.

Of course I didn't go.

I was hungry and went to a house at 9:30.

Rapped on the door and asked the lady for a bite to eat.

She asked me if I could wash windows and I said sure.

Told me to wait till she fixed something for me.

Five strips of bacon and two eggs.

Coffee.

Then I started to wash the windows.

When I got through, she gave me a bag of grapes, apples and pears and a dime.

So I went to a gambling house, gambled the dime on a roulette wheel.

Then I walked up the red light sections and back to this big gambling house.

I had $0.80 on me and started to play the craps.

I lost $0.55 and quickly fell asleep under a table.

Got up at seven, bought a nickel's worth of rolls and went to serve yourself store to buy a can of beans.

Well, I served myself, put a can in my pocket and paid for one can.

Went to the jungle, cook coffee and warmed the beans in a can.

Since I was ordered out of town the day before, I was almost afraid to go uptown, but I didn't care.

I went up and bum $0.45 and started to shoot craps.

I won a dime.

And the guy asked me how old I was.

I told him 24.

He didn't believe me and called the cops.

So I ran out.

By the end of October, Joe traveled through 100 cities over 9000 miles for three months.

His adventure was turning into survival on the rails.

But he did promise to send postcards home to let people know he was safe where he was.

In those postcards, in addition to that prodigal with excitement to his father growing at a time when there was no excitement.

People wondering where is he?

Who was going to get the next card?

Joe mailed postcards from as many cities as he could to his family and friends.

He also wrote letters home to let everyone know he was okay.

Caught a freight at 9:00 going to Milford, Utah.

I got into a reefer, got kicked out about 50 miles from Kayenta, so I had to ride the tops for 20 miles and my toes almost froze.

I got into an empty and got to Milford at midnight.

Went to the jail, then went to sleep.

Don Marshall comes in at seven in the morning, wakes me up and says there's a freight going my direction.

I didn't get up.

Slept til 8:00.

They have a special place in this town for bums only, this old jailhouse.

It is now October 31st Halloween and all the stores are marked with soap and wax.

I tried to get a job washing the soap off, but I couldn't, so I bum potatoes, onions, bacon, carrots and went to the old jailhouse and cooked up.

Marshal came around and said clean the ashes in the floor.

That was easy.

Walked up the street.

The whole town is out celebrating Halloween.

They're pushing two farmers wagons all over town.

Ones a water wagon.

They upset it right in the middle of the main drag.

And the wagon was pushed in front of a gas pump and a gasoline wagon.

I followed the gang when they went to the cop's house and took the toilet from the backyard onto his front porch.

Later, I went to the dance hall.

Everybody's having a good time.

It's 11 p.m.

October 31st, 1932.

Oh, is it cold.

And I got to hop a freight back to California.

And I'm up in Utah.

So I got the freight at midnight, got into a reefer, spread my blankets and fell asleep.

Got back to Las Vegas early in the morning.

November 1st, 1932.

Jungled up sweet rolls and coffee.

Monkeyed around the jungle all afternoon.

Wash my shirt for supper.

I picked up a newspaper and saw my name in it.

It's on the cover now.

At 6:00, I went uptown, bum $0.35 and shot craps.

I lost it all.

And now I'm broke, happy and satisfied.

Most states had vagrancy laws.

A vagrant was defined as any person wandering without a house or job.

Penalties were usually 30 days in jail.

If Joe was arrested and in jail, this would have prevented him from sending postcards back to Vandergrift.

I went to sleep in the desert, on the sand.

I caught a freight bound toward Phoenix.

Bulls are very tough on the Santa Fe Railroad, and I see them coming over the tops.

And I was in a lumber car.

I jumped off, hid in the grass.

He passed me up without seeing me.

Kicked about six other guys off when it started.

I hopped on again.

I hid in the same lumber car.

It's dark now, and I thought I was safe, but 40 miles down further, he shakes the freight again, about four cars ahead of me.

I saw him putting an old man off.

Then he came to me.

I couldn't get away, no how.

He flashed a light on me, frisked me and said, don't you know you're violating the law by riding this freight?

He told me to jump off.

I was going about 15 miles an hour.

I told him I had my leg broken two months ago, and if I jumped off, I might hurt it.

Then he said, it stops here about four miles.

And it did stop.

The name of the town is Bagdad, California.

Well, I jumped off, tried to sneak around and grabbed the front end because I was about ten feet away from the caboose while the bull saw me walking up to the front end and hollered, hey, you, get over in that field!

Then he watched me till the caboose came and he hopped on the caboose.

Now I'm stranded in the desert.

I sat around near the tracks, tried to catch a freight.

Plenty of freights going by, but not one stopped or slowed up.

Made me mad.

And it's 3:00 in the afternoon.

Friday, November 4th.

School is over at 3:30 and I went up and put the bum on the schoolteacher.

She made me chop wood for 15 minutes and called me in to eat.

She ain't right with me.

I had stew.

I wanted to leave right after I got through eating.

She said, no, you don't have to hurry because no freight stops here.

Well, I sat down again.

She talked about spirits, ghosts, and the days of the witches.

I heard a freight come by.

She said, if I can't catch a break to come back.

Well, I didn't catch that.

Freight went by me 50 miles an hour.

Wouldn't want to go up to the schoolhouse.

So I stayed in the same reefer that I stayed the night before.

I slept fine until 7 a.m.. My only chance is to walk 22 miles through solid desert to a water tank.

I bummed five hot cakes that were cold, no butter and syrup to go with them, and two cold boiled potatoes.

That's the best I could get.

I had to be satisfied.

And now I'm on my way across the desert for a 22 mile walk.

I got a bottle of water.

Water didn't last very long.

And not a place in sight for more water.

Oh, boy.

My mouth was dry.

Could hardly stand it.

Then I came to a bridge and there was a barrel of real old water.

A sign on the barrel for fire only.

I rinsed my mouth out with that water and it tasted salty and made me that much thirstier.

I kept on going from 8:00 in the morning till two.

I got to this next town.

Only two houses with one store.

First thing I did, I drank a gallon of water.

I had $0.16.

Bought a nickel's worth of ham and crackers.

And it's 4:30 in the afternoon.

I fill my bottle up and waited until dark before I went up the tracks again.

This store is three miles from the tracks, and on my way up the sand road I saw a snake coil up and started to buzz.

I got a handful of stones and started to throw it at the snake Threw about two stones before I finally hit him.

Then I got a great big rock and got right on top of him and knocked his head off, got my knife and cut his tail off.

I put the rattles in my pocket, but when I get up in the morning at 4:00, I lost it.

I missed the 4:00 freight on a count of two bulls.

Then I had to wait for the next freight.

I walked three miles for a drink of water when I walked the three miles back.

I was thirsty again.

At 8:00, the freight came in at 7:00.

Two more fellas that were kicked off.

They said they'd walked 42 miles in two days.

One of them was half dead.

Could hardly walk very, very weak.

They just came in the nick of time to catch the same freight I was waiting for.

I walked about 1000ft from the water tank to make sure the bull wouldn't see me.

Joe's trip was no longer an adventure.

He faced loneliness, hardship, discomfort and danger.

His friend Kelly left him two months ago.

He saw a hobo lose his leg.

He endured cold and extreme heat and could have died in the desert.

He knew he was facing more cold weather ahead.

He was rethinking his plan of staying on the road till 1933.

When I got to Needles, I lost my soap and had to wash with sand and water.

I walked up town.

First time I washed in three days.

I went to a house lady, asked me if I was really hungry and penniless.

I said lady, if I wasn't hungry, I wouldn't ask you.

And if I had money, I knew where to buy food.

She told me to sit on the steps and in two minutes she brings a big dish of sauerkraut and spare ribs four boiled potatoes, half a loaf of bread and a cup of coffee.

I ate the first dish.

She asked if I could eat another, I said yes.

She brought the next dish out and I ate all of it.

Then she said, I guess you was hungry.

Grabbed a freight to Winslow, Arizona.

Going from Williams to Winslow.

Snow in the mountains.

Slept next to a hot stove.

Got to Winslow at 9 p.m., then went to a flophouse and sure was cold.

I got up at 7 a.m., November 8th, 1932.

First thing I do is bum a bakery and got turned down.

Then I went to the biggest cafe in town.

He made me split egg boxes and take the nails out.

I did that easy enough.

I got hot cakes, extra large and two eggs.

Two cups of coffee.

And this is election day.

Legal holiday declared.

The 1932 Election day was pivotal in American history.

The U.S.

government had never taken an active role in previous depressions.

They thought they were just part of the business cycle.

However, the Great Depression was lasting so long.

Many began to think government had a legitimate responsibility to provide a quality life for its citizens.

During the depression in 1932, one fourth of all heads of households were unemployed.

Approximately 200,000 young men and boys were aimlessly drifting across the country.

Whole families, children and single women were on the move.

Hundreds lined up in soup lines, slept in flop houses, missions in the Salvation Army.

Many froze to death in city slums and others starved.

I was a hobo, not a bum or a tramp.

No ID or logo.

No position in the can.

Blankets and newspapers.

Boxcars my abode.

Is onto a passenger train.

A fast small train going direct to Chicago.

I get on at 5:00 and rode for four hours.

Too cold to ride a passenger.

So I get off at Las Vegas, New Mexico.

Boy, I was shaking like a leaf.

I went straight to the jail, went to sleep, got up at 8:00 and ate breakfast in jail.

When I came out, a fellow asked me if I was on the road.

I said yes, sir.

Well, come on in, he says, and get a hot cup of coffee.

I rode the freighter as far as Trinidad, Colorado.

I went to the house and asked for coffee.

Told the lady I wanted to take it along with me and boil it in the jungle.

She said I could eat in her house, but I said no.

I wanted to eat in the jungle, but she insisted upon me staying in the house and eating, because her house is about three blocks away from where the train stops for coal and water.

When I sat down to the table and started to eat, four of her kids and herself all got lined up against the wall and formed a circle.

The kids varied in ages from 4 to 16, and they were all very interested in my talk.

Then the lady told the reason she made me eat in her house.

She said a young fellow about my age froze to death one winter near the water tank, and she wanted to see me get away safe.

So about an hour passed, while I was in the house.

I walked over to the water tank, waited about 15 minutes and the limited train came.

The name of the train is the chief.

It's the fastest train the Santa Fe owns.

It runs between Chicago and Los Angeles in 52 hours.

I hopped on and rode it for 8.5 hours before I hopped off.

I wrapped paper on my feet.

What I mean, this train really traveled.

Going over the mountains didn't go very fast, but once it got going on the level stretch, I bet it didn't go less than 65mph.

I was by the first blind.

All the while it didn't jump much.

A very smooth ride.

The wind was cutting right through me.

So when it gets to Albuquerque, I hopped off.

I was so cold I could hardly walk.

I walked like a paralyzed man.

I only had four blocks to walk to the sally, though.

It's pretty late at night.

They gave me a rag to wipe first and then wash.

I looked into the mirror and I didn't believe it was myself.

Took seven baths of hot water to clean my face.

And yet it wasn't very clean.

Had a big black streak across my eyes, and it took five clean basins of water just to wash my head and hair.

When I came out of the bathroom, they had a special for me.

Boston baked beans and coffee.

There was a lady bum in the sally.

She claimed to be a spiritualist.

Asked me if I wanted to have my fortune told.

I said yes.

She told me I was going to be a bondsman and a cattle dealer.

Also predicted a trip to Europe in 1939 or 40.

I told her she was full of bunk and she got mad.

Now I go to bed, got up at 7 a.m., ate breakfast.

Darn good breakfast.

At 8:00 Police car comes around, picks me up, hauls me out of town.

Said to stay out for good.

I got to El Paso in the wee hours of the morning.

So a cop stops me, searches me and said, you're okay.

Now I'm all excited about going over to Old Mexico.

Got on a streetcar.

Paid $0.06.

Got a hiding place right in the middle of the trolley.

Among all the well dressed people.

Immigration officer got into the car just as soon as he got in the other side of the Rio Grande, and they looked at everybody carefully.

Oh, boy.

My heart was in my throat.

About the time he got to the middle of the car, I had my head turned toward the window.

He never asked me a question.

I bought postal cards three for $0.05.

I went to the post office and laid the cards down on the stamp window, along with the Mexican money.

I walked up and down the street, took in all the sights, bought a glass of beer for $0.05.

It cost me about $0.55 being in Mexico.

I was a hobo.

There were thousands of us.

So many thought we were loco in that travel rooms of rust.

142 cities throughout 48 states.

Nearly 15,000 miles of riding and parades.

Made it down the Atlantic across the Gulf Coast.

Mosquito swarms were frantic in the southern heat and rose up in the Midwest.

Now I'm bound for Saint Joseph, Missouri or Topeka.

About the time I fell asleep.

Somebody locked the door when I thought I was in Topeka, I got up and tried to get out and couldn't get out.

Well, I didn't care.

I went back to my corner and laid down.

Pretty cold.

This car has lots of paper.

Made a fire in the car so I could see to roll a cigarette.

First thing I know the floor started to burn.

Then I put the fire out again.

Went to sleep.

When I woke up, I was in Kansas City, Kansas.

I heard a brakeman walk by.

It kicked in the door and howled for him to open the door.

He did.

Time is 9:45.

Sunday morning, November 20th, 1932.

I couldn't find any jungles around.

Walked over the bridge to Kansas City, Missouri and past the stockyards.

Looked over some nice pure stock prize stock.

Livestock show closed the night before.

Now, I went to a gas station for a drink, saw a couple cans and I filled them up with water and went to an empty lot right behind the gas station.

Made a fire, boiled coffee and baloney.

Ate my breakfast in the alley.

All I have left now is about a half a pound of sugar and $0.10.

Now I start the mission and got there at 1:00.

Wash my face, read the Sunday paper till 5:00, then eat supper.

After supper, wash my pants and shirts, took a bath, got my clothes fumigated.

Went to bed at 9:00.

Got up at 6:30, ate breakfast and stayed in the mission for a while till the sun came out.

I started for the freight yards, no freight until 11:00.

Built a fire with a couple of old tires.

I saw a bull shoot at two bums.

I jumped on the freight, crawled into a reefer, got put out at Leavenworth and ate my cookies.

Tried to catch a chicken, but I couldn't run fast enough.

I got to Omaha at midnight.

Went to a police station, gave me a ticket for a Sally.

I started for the Sally and went the wrong direction.

Found myself in Council Bluffs, Iowa at 1:00.

I found it good for one night only.

Went to the markets, got some fruit.

Got a job in a secondhand clothing store.

I got two bits for working.

He told me to come to work the next day, but I didn't go.

At six, I went for supper, had a darn good pork chop supper, stayed in the house till 8:00 talking about the depression.

Pretty cold tonight and I had to sleep somewhere.

So I went to the Sally and gave them another fictitious name.

Passenger train had a dead head luggage coach.

I got in and rode to DeKalb.

Got off at five, had running water in this car, both hot and cold.

This is Thanksgiving day.

I went to a house, got a handout, biscuit goods and chicken, went to the jail and slept.

The cops got turkey from some place.

Brought it into the jail with coffee.

8:00 open the doors.

I bum some more to eat.

First place got a hand out, roast beef sandwiches and the next place.

I guess the biggest house in town.

Got a turkey hand out, cake and the trimmings of turkey.

Thanksgiving day is a day traditionally spent with family.

Joe spent his Thanksgiving Day in the jail in DeKalb, Illinois.

He missed his family and wanted to make sure he would be home for Christmas.

I got a passenger for Chicago, rode the train way down town two blocks from the station, went up, saw my old boss and asked him for a streetcar fare.

He gave me all the change, he had $0.40.

Business is rotten.

Now I go to my old roommate.

Glad to see me.

Just in time for supper.

We had a nice big rabbit supper.

I was just like a new president, shaking hands all day and night.

Played cards, no sleep all night.

Sat up and talked.

Went to sleep in the morning at 9 a.m.. Got up at three.

Got a free haircut, free beer.

This is Saturday the 26th.

I wanted to leave, but they wouldn't let me go.

I knew them all, played cards and danced.

They wanted me to stay for a week, but I told them I had to go.

Went to sleep Monday morning at 2 a.m., got up at 11.

Four years ago when Joe was 18 years old, he first visited Chicago.

He found a job working in Chicago because he didn't want to work in the dangerous Vandergrift Steel mill.

But after a year, the depression hit, so he had to return back home to Vandergrift.

Now, four years later, Joe visits his old boss and friends.

At this time, Chicago was the hub of the railroads.

The winters were hard for the hobos, so they traveled the rails to Chicago and made it their winter home.

There were hundreds of missions, so many hobos slept in the alleys and on the streets.

In the heart of the depression, 1932, the economy was a mess, and there's nothing much to do.

With adventure in my soul, John Kelly by my side inspired me to roam across the country.

We'd ride.

Then I tried to go to Newark, Ohio, hopped the first freight, rode four miles out on top of a hill before a bull search the freight They found me between two cars, said, get the hell off and stay off the railroad property.

I got off and ran through a farmer's field.

The farmer started to call me off his field, kept on running till I got away by the engine and the freight was moving now.

I jumped about five fences till I got about ten feet from the tracks, and I heard a couple of shots.

I looked around and on top of the car the bull was looking at me and he motioned me to stay off.

I walked down to the yards again, hopped on another.

I got to the same place.

This time I was in a low gondola between sewer pipes.

They found me again and they said they meant it when they said to keep off, I showed them my cards, but that wouldn't let me on.

Joe's Industrial Workers of the world card had become the unofficial passport for riding the rails, showing that they were migratory workers looking for work.

I was a hobo, not a bum or a tramp.

No ID or logo, no position in the can.

Blankets, and newspapers, boxcars.

My abode.

every day was.. Its dark now and the freight was ready to go to Wheeling, West Virginia I rode as far as Bellaire, Ohio, just across the river from Wheeling, went to the jail and slept.

I started for Wheeling and had to pay a five cent toll.

Got to Wheeling, went to a mission and he gave me coffee and bread.

The guy next to me had a bowl of oats.

I said, how about a bowl of oats?

And he gave it to me.

When I started to go out, he said, you owe me $0.05, Colonel.

So I asked him for what?

He showed me the bill of fare, so I had to give him $0.05.

Tried to bum some money on the street.

Too tough.

Got nothing.

Joe arrived back home in East Vandergrift, Pennsylvania, in December of 1932, having accomplished what he set out to do, he saw America coast to coast, border to border.

He rode through the country's changing landscapes.

He rode through the plains and the prairies, the mountains and deserts, alongside and across the great rivers.

He married my mother, Louise DeMichele.

daughter of Italian immigrants.

You were When my journey was done and there were a hundred or so days.

I knew a cold winter sun back in Pittsburgh, P.A., finally got a job at the Irvin Works where my future was robbed.

I was a first worker there, killed on the job.

Worked for most meals I got did whatever I could.

Washing windows, cleaning pots.

Cooking, chopping wood.

In the shadows of a steeple in the alleys of decay.

Met so many nice people that help me along the way.

I was a hobo, not a bum or a tramp.

No ID or logo.

No position in the can.

Blankets, and newspapers, boxcars.

My abode.

Every day was a keeper for these nights on the road.

I was a hobo in the prime of my youth.

My journals.

The proof.

I'm telling you the truth.

142 cities across 48 states.

Nearly 15,000 miles.

It's still the record to this date.

I was a hobo.

I was a hobo.

I was a hobo.