For southern Blacks the appeal
of the railroads has always been both a real and a symbolic one. Way back in
slavery periods, when black slaves were unable to travel between districts
without written 'bonds' from their owners, the sight of powerful locomotives
thundering past, with clouds of black smoke billowing into the air, created an
awe which remains even today. For them the train was a symbol of power, of
freedom and escape. This image carried on, in the hard times of the 1920s and
1930s, when the southern Blacks struggled to make a living and saw the northern
cities as their saviours, where work was plentiful and a better life was to be
had. Again the symbol was of escape, from hard times, from crimes, from broken
hearts. This symbolic importance of the railroad was imprinted on black music.
As the blues developed, the railroad featured prominently in the songs, with a
large number reflecting the life of the hobo; the symbolic had become reality,
with northbound trains carrying innumerable black males (and a few women)
leaving the south.
"When a woman gets
the blues, she goes to her room and hides, (x2)
When a man gets the blues, he catches a freight train and rides."
Freight Train Blues,
But why a freight train and not
a passenger train? Mainly because the average southern Black had little or no
money. Even though the majority of blacks would work and save hard for their
ticket to travel as a paying passenger there were many who were scared to pay
for a ticket: they were the blacks with a criminal record, or on the run with a
debt to pay, who knew that their presence at the ticket office would be noticed
and instantly reported. For the man in trouble, the railroad was the swiftest
method of avoiding capture, and the long distances that the trains covered could
enable him to get outside the state, and thereby outside the local arm of the
law. His situation was most often desperate, requiring desperate means to escape
from his predicament. He had to jump at the opportunity of escape to a better
world. He needed to get a free ride, and the best way was to board a freight
train. But how did he clamber on board a moving train without being injured, or
seen by the railroad men with the certainty of being physically thrown off? The
easiest way was to lie in wait on a curve in the line; to jump on board, taking
advantage of the slow moving train coming round the bend, and using the bend of
the train to hide his movements from the railroad men. Once he had climbed on
board, in itself a very dangerous task, he would try and make his way to the
'blinds' if he could. These were the baggage cars next to the tender, which were
'blind' having no end door so the conductor or railroad police could not walk
through the train to the first vehicle, behind the locomotive. Hence it was a
relatively comfortable safe haven. More dangerous, but out of sight and
unreachable by the railroad workers, was to perch on the brake rods that ran
beneath the freight cars. Risking his life he might try to worm his way across
these, finding a means of balancing precariously there, or he might carry a
small board to throw across the rods and then lie on it in the narrow gap
between them and the underneath of the rail car. Holding on to axle beams, brake
rods, or coupling links throughout day and night, in icy winds, in choking
poisonous fumes in the tunnels, he could easily succumb to numbness or exposure
and drop to certain death on the track below. To hobo a ride took the
determination of the utterly desperate, and took reckless nerve. There was no
room for mistakes, no second chance; one slip would mean death or serious
injury. However the hobo's tricks and skills of getting free rides and avoiding
the railroad workers were handed down to the younger ones, as the experienced hoboes
liked to have children with them to help make fires, cook, and beg when
they got to the cities.
Living dangerously, they
continued this way of travelling unless injury forced them to beg their rides
from the 'mean old fireman' and the 'cruel old engineer'. However, appealing to
the railroad men for a free ride seldom had any effect. Although sometimes hoboes
would be charged a ‘fare’ by the conductor/brakeman, etc. Often a dollar for
each division (100 miles) travelled, which of course the railroad company would
never see in its ledgers. However, the railroad men were usually frightened of
loosing their jobs, and the hoboes or 'bums' constituted a major problem to the
railroad companies. Very often freight was damaged by hoboes in their search for
food and drink. The hoboes were effectively treated like vermin by the railroad
workers. Firemen would turn their hoses on the hoboes who clung to the box-cars,
so that their wet clothes would freeze to them and they would fall from their
perches; brakemen who had clubs to tighten down the brakes would swing them at
the tough and desperate hoboes. The railroad workers were equally the traditional
enemy of the hobo. The hoboes used terms like: the 'snakes' - the switchmen,
whose lapel buttons had an 'S' motif, and the 'stingers' - the brakemen, whose buttons had a 'B' motif.
The ranks of the railroad
workers were supported by the railroad 'bulls' and 'shack bullies' - special
agents employed by the railroad company as 'police' who fought the hoboes,
wielding clubs through the hobo encampments. To protect themselves against
assaults from the railroad officials and police, the hoboes frequently banded
together to ride in groups upon the cars.
"Now I could ride the
pullman, but there it is again,
The plush they put on the
pullman seats, it tickles my sensitive skin.
Now I could be a conductor
and never see a wreck,
But any kind of a railroad
man is a pain in the neck.
Now I could be a doctor,
my duty I never would shirk;
But if I doctored a
railroad bull, he'd never go back to work.
Now you wonder why I'm a
hobo, and why I sleep in the ditch.
Well, it ain't because I'm
lazy; NO, I just don't want to be rich."
Naw, I Don't Want to be Rich, Carson J. Robison
International Corporation, New York, 1930
Now I swung that 97, I
went down in the free rail box.
Now I hung that 97, I went
down in the free rail box.
Now I could hear the
special agent when 'e come tippin' over the top.
Now some special agents,
up the country, sure is hard on a man;
Now some special agents,
up the country, they sure is hard on a man.
Now they will put 'im off
when he hungry, an' won't even let 'im ride no train."
Special Agent (Railroad
Police Blues), Sleepy John Estes
Having reached a district in
which they might hope to find work (Chicago was the hobo's Mecca, with an
extensive rail network), or where they intended to settle for a while, the hoboes
gained strength and protection away from the railroad police by living in 'hobo
jungles'. These were encampments on the fringes of main cities, which were safer
than the alleys within the cities. They were like our gypsy camps of today;
living communities with such 'entertainments' as gambling dens, ladies of the
night, and even roadshows. The railroad police often had raids or ‘purges’
in the hobo jungles on orders from the railroad companies. The city police knew
of them but left well alone. A hierarchical set-up existed in the jungles and
often tasks were rotated in a mutual ‘self-help’ system; searching for food,
begging for money, acquiring liquor, sharing plates/utensils, etc. (A good
description is to be found in “The Hobo” by Nels Anderson 1927 (rep). U. of
Chicago Press. 1st. pub. 1923).
"Now when I came in
on the Mae West, I put it down at Chicago Heights, (x2)
I eased over in the hobo
jungle and that's where I stayed all night.
Now if you hobo to
Brownsville you better not be peepin' out, (x2)
Now Mister Winn will get
you and Mister Gallaher will wear you out.
Now out east of
Brownsville, it's 'bout four miles from town, (x2)
Now if you ain't got your
fare, that's where they will let you down."
Hobo Jungle Blues, Sleepy John Estes
Hidden deep in wayside brush
but well known to the experienced hoboes, the jungles were primitive shack towns
made from scrap metal, wood, cardboard, and packing cases. The inhabitants of
these jungles, some of whom having made the desease-ridden tips their permanent
homes, would scrape together a meagre life. These encampments were also known as
'Hoovervilles', after President Hoover, who was blamed for not injecting money
into the poorer areas. How little things change. Even now we still have very
similar 'homesteads' in the City of London; homes of our very own tramps!
"I'm a broken-hearted
through this wide world all alone, (x2)
It's the railroad for my
pillow, this jungle is my happy home.
This ole jungle, this ole
jungle, has me sleepin' by myself, (x2)
Well, I'll believe I'll
go, honey, find somebody else.
Well jungle, this ole
jungle, cinders blowin' back in my face, (x2)
I'm gonna get me a little
woman fin' some other place."
Old Bachelor Blues, Son Bond
"One evening as the sun
the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo
he said, "Boys I'm not turning-
I'm heading for a land
that's far away,
the crystal fountain.
So, come with me; we'll go
Big Rock Candy Mountain."
The Big Rock Candy Mountain, a famous old hobo poem
Of the vast majority of hobo
'transients' who were 'on the bum' during the thirties (estimates ranged from 2
to 4 million) a large proportion were black and only a small percentage of these
were true 'boomers' or migrant workers. Far too many had no prospects whatsoever
and travelled aimlessly, with the city police ready to arrest them for vagrancy,
or the railroad police for failing to pay their fares. Living from day to day,
skipping from one freight train to another as they rattled slowly along,
constantly dodging the watchful eye of the railroad workers, the hobo travelled
from city to city, with hobo jungles as temporary resting places. No purpose to
their journeys; no goal to achieve; no end in sight; a living hell.
"Now listen to her
rumble, now listen to her roar,
As she echoes down the
valley and tears along the shore.
Now hear the engine's
whistle and her mighty hoboes call
As we ride the rods and
brakebeams on the Wabash Cannonball.
Now here's to Long Slim
Perkins, may his name forever stand.
He'll be honored and
respected by the 'boes throughout the land.
And when his days are over
and the curtains round him fall,
We'll ship him off to hell
and on the Wabash Cannonball."
The Wabash Cannonball, Galli Sisters
The southern Blacks, forced to
migrate from their homes out of desperation to seek prosperity in the big cities
(their 'Promised Land'), created an American legend: the hobo; the bum; the
tramp. Their life was hard. There was no promised land. The cities were as harsh
for them as the homes they had left. Prosperity, or even a semblance of a better
lifestyle was always beyond their reach. This, more often than not, forced them
to keep on travelling, to have almost a permanent presence on the freight
trains; to be in constant struggle with the railroad workers. This harsh
lifestyle was the inspiration for poignant expression in blues songs. Hobo songs
were the impromptu emotions of the man along the track. Their very simplicity
and spontaneity indicates they were from the heart, with no aspiration toward
culture or learning. Moreover, these songs are peculiarly African American,
tracing the black people's struggle with authority in the hopeless quest to find
stability in their lives.
Paul Oliver "Blues Fell This Morning",
Cambridge University Press,
George Milburn "The Hobo's Hornbook",
Other Blues Music References:
Minnie 'Outdoor Blues''
John Lee Hooker 'Hobo Blues'
Bessie Smith 'Young Woman's
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