In the glory days of hoboing, hundreds of thousands of Americans were lured by the wail of soot-belching locomotives pulling long lines of freight cars. They hit the tracks and beat their way across an American laced with railroad lines. Some rode in boxcars, or crouched in cowcatchers, some in empty battery boxes beneath passenger cars, others clung precariously to the brake rods inches from the stinging cinders. the ingenuity of the hobo was only exceeded by his courage and, in many cases, his desperation. - Few hobo jungles remain. The men and women who sat around campfires, swapping yarns, swapping stew, drinking "red eye" - the working stiffs, gay cats, yeggs, gandy dancers and prushings - are a vanishing species. But here, this fascinating, flamboyant chapter of American history lives on. Interviews, letters, song, poetry, articles from hobo newspapers, IWW literature and autobiographical accounts evoke a colorful, often savage portrait of hobo life from the 1800s to the Great Depression.
In the glory days of hoboing, hundreds of thousands of Americans were lured by the wail of soot-belching locomotives pulling long lines of freight cars. They hit the tracks and beat their way across an American laced with ra...
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