KaBar2

Here's some truly arcane hobo knowledge for you guys. As you may know there are a number of famous people who were once tramps and trainhoppers, people who then went on to great things and accomplishments. A lot of these people who are actors and actresses, especially, were technically homeless, but not truly hobos. However some very famous people really were tramps and rode freight trains, lived in hobo jungles etc. A lot of the actresses lived in their cars or vans for months at a time. Most famous hobos: William O. Douglas, U.S. Supreme Court Justice. Hoboed during the Great Depression for several years as a teenager. Charlie Chaplin, silent film actor. Was homeless on the streets of London and took care of his elementary-school age younger brother. Begged for coins. Jack London, writer, Socialist. London drew upon his hobo experiences for several of his books. Jack Kerouac, writer. Had several short stints riding trains, but never truly homeless. Had lots of tramp friends however. Carl Sandburg, poet. Was homeless and tramped during the Great Depression. George Orwell, author of "Nineteen Eighty-four" and "Animal Farm." Homeless in the Great Depression. Jack Dempsey, champion boxer. Ella Fitzgerald, famous vocalist. Homeless as a young woman, and sang in bars and clubs for her meals. Woody Guthrie, folksinger, prolific songwriter, labor organizer, Communist. Tramped during the Great Depression. LT COL Duane "Digger" Carey, fighter pilot, astronaut. Was a rebellious teenaged runaway and rode freight trains for over a year as a teenager Robert Mitchum, actor. He was a genuine tramp who travelled to work during the Great Depression and also while he studied acting. Steve McQueen, actor. He was a rebellious teenager, a gang member and runaway who rode trains during his teen years, before he joined the Marines. McQueen always had a soft spot for kids in trouble, and repeatedly visited boys in the reform school where he had been held, donating large quantities of blue jeans, underwear, toiletries, winter coats, etc. over a period of years after he became wealthy and famous. He never forgot what it was like to be homeless and alone in the world. He was exposed to asbestos in the Marines on board ship, and died years later of mesothelioma lung cancer. Other famous people who were homeless: Jim Carrey, actor. Was homeless and lived in his car for months trying to get his career started. Dave Van Ronk, musician. Dale Wasserman, writer and director of TV shows and movies. Phil McGraw, Ph.D., psychologist (Dr. Phil on TV.) Suze Orman, millionaire financial advisor. Homeless and lived in her van in 1973. Chris Gardner, the millionaire who inspired the movie "The Pursuit of Happyness." A homeless single father who refused to give up. Jewell, singer, songwriter. Lived in her van early in her career, busked on the street and sang for tips in bars and clubs. Michael Oher, professional NFL football player. Jennifer Lopez, actress and singer. Homeless early in her career, as are many actors and entertainers. Drew Carey, comedic actor. Lived in his car, among other things like that while trying to get his first big break. Carmen Electra, model and actress. One of her boyfriends broke up with her a stole all their money and left her homeless when she could not pay the rent. Sylvester Stallone, actor. Slept on benches in Grand Central Station while homeless early in his career. He eventually got a bit part in a movie and got the attention of some filmmakers. Daniel Craig, actor. Homeless in UK early in his career and slept on park benches. Hale Berry, model and actress. She was so broke she posed for soft porn photos and eventually for Playboy magazine, but was never homeless after that. Kelly Clarkson, actress. Lived in her car for several months early in her career. Kurt Cobain. Raised in a low-income trailer park in Aberdeen, WA, Cobain was chronically homeless and often lived in hobo jungles until he became wealthy. He bought a very expensive mansion, but camped out in one room. He never felt comfortable with his wealth and committed suicide. David Letterman. Essentially was a rubber tramp early in his career. Hilary Swank: lived in her car trying to get her career started. Kelsey Grammer: camped behind a filling station behind his motorcycle as a young man, trying to break into show business. William Shatner, of Star Trek fame: lived in his car for months. Jack Black, writer: homeless when he was young and a teenager. Nels Anderson, sociologist: homeless as a young man.

Most of trainhopping is just common sense, but there is a certain amount of actual railroad knowledge that would come in very handy. I STRONGLY recommend that you start reading TRAINS magazine. There is a shitload of information in this magazine. Much of it is so arcane that only a train nerd could work up interest in it, but there is also a GREAT DEAL of information about famous train routes, spectacular vistas worth seeing, famous train yards, history of how the routes were planned, engineered and built and so on and so forth There's also a shitload of excellent information on actual train cars, railroad companies, the Federal regulations governing railroads, upcoming legislation regarding railroads, etc., etc. Sometimes you can find TRAINS magazine at a big city news stand that has magazines on every subject, but it's more likely to be found on the news racks of a model railroader shop or just Google it online and subscribe that way. I was a subscriber for several years, until I had old copies of TRAINS coming out of my fucking ears, and let my subscription lapse. There is a lot of information to be had right here on the internet, from the railfan sites. Don't tell them you're a trainhopper, though. They love trains, but as a group, they are a bunch of anal-retentive, law-obeying freaks. Railfans tend to be people who are obsessed with order, predictability and rules. They love train schedules. They hate trainhoppers. (They are called "foamers," because they foam at the mouth when they see a particular engine they like.) Railfans are video camera freaks too. If they see you on a train, they will try to get video, then call the police and tell them what car you are on (including the car number) and that they have video and are willing to testify.. That's why I tell people to HIDE. Do not show yourself to passers-by. CONCEAL the fact that you are on a train. I have used railroad plastic, cardboard, a brown tarp and all manner of things to camouflage my presence on a grainer porch or under the wheels of a trailer (a TOFC.) You can't beat an infrared heat scanner, but anything you can do to break up your silhouette or make yourself look like cardboard dunnage trash, the better. If your silhouette looks like a person, you have a much greater chance of being spotted.

tAfter re-reading the above post, I got motivated to learn a little more about tank cars. Since I avoid them like the plague, I rarely think about them. So I googled it. About 70% of the railroad tank cars in the U.S. (and 80% of Canadian tank cars) are what is called a DOT-111. (In Canada this same car is called a CTC-111A.) These cars are mostly manufactured by American Railcar. The hull is 7/16" thick of mild steel, but they can be made from steel, aluminum or nickel steel, using what they call "fusion welding." That sounds pretty Buck Rogers, but from looking at a few tank cars, it's just regular arc welding. The real information I was after is how many gallons they hold--about 35,000 gallons of whatever-the-fuck kind of dangerous, volatile, explosive liquid chemicals or petroleum products. That oil train in Galena, Illinois that blew up had somewhere around 175,000 GALLONS of oil burning at the wreck site. That is one big ass fire. In my opinion, an oil fire (gasoline, diesel, crude oil, whatever) is actually less dangerous than one of these cars hauling chemicals. Imagine 35,000 gallons of butyric acid or anhydrous ammonia busting open in your neighborhood. Holy shit. What a horrible way to die. My little google minute did not change my advice one bit. It still stands. DO NOT RIDE STINKERS, EVER, FOR ANY REASON.

Pretty much everybody who reads this thread realizes that there are some railcars that are considered "acceptable rides" and some that are not. The standard acceptable rides (in no particular order of desirability) include the old revenue boxcars (now very rarely seen rolling,) plug-door boxcars with a locking wheel or locking lever for the doors; open top, unloaded gondola cars; various kinds of "hopper" cars like the ACL CenterFlo grainer, the "Cadillac" grainer; or the "Bubba-lip" grainer; bulkhead flatcars like lumber flatcars; TOFCs, container well cars with a steel deck (like the TTX 48 ), loaded coal cars (I don't recommend them though, they are a filthy dirty ride) and unoccupied units (engines.) Each kind of car has things to recommend it and things that I consider drawbacks. Boxcars provide good protection from the weather and have excellent cover and concealment, but they are extremely dangerous to try to board rolling, they are extremely noisy, the view is limited, the doors can move (either closed or open, depending on slack action) if not properly locked open, and they seem to rock back-and-forth worse than other cars. Grainers are easy to hit rolling because they have ladders, and the view is outstanding, but they offer very little protection from the elements, only one "porch" is actually rideable (the "A" end--the "B" end is occupied by a lot of brake gear and air tanks, etc.) and they offer poor cover and concealment. There is one type of grainer that is unrideable, and that is a "ribbed" grainer. If the sides have "ribs," it means there is no floor on the porch. No floor = not rideable. Flatcars are a poor ride, but in an emergency I would ride one. There is nothing to protect you from the elements at all, there is no cover or concealment, slack action puts you are big risk for being thrown from the car--it's not a good ride. A loaded flatcar is a little better, depending on the load. Pipe = no bueno. Timber or lumber is a little better, as long as you are BEHIND THE LOAD. Never, never, never ride in the front of a load. If it shifts you could be crushed. This is true of gondolas, too. As a general rule, NEVER ride in a loaded gondola. If a gondola is empty it's acceptable, but usually filthy dirty. Container well cars are the ride of the future. All railroad cargo is "going containerized," and in the future the older cars will all probably disappear. The old TTX 48s are being phased out and with the loss of the Forty-Eight, we are losing a great ride. They used to load a small, forty-foot container on a 48, and it would create eight feet of riding space on the back end with a nice steel deck in which it was easy to hide. If they loaded a longer container topside for a "stack," your ride even had overhead cover for inclement weather. Today, however, the typical well car is a TTX 53. The Fifty-three has no floor, only steel X-shaped girders to support the containers. These cars are not safe to ride. Riding an empty 53 is called "riding suicide" for a very good reason. There is a short shelf on both ends of the well on a 53, but it is still not safe. If all you can find on a train is a 53, wait for another train unless you are literally in danger of dying of thirst or something like that. Do people ride them? Of course. But it is not safe. The one kind of car that is ABSOLUTELY a ride that endangers your life is ANY KIND OF TANK CAR. Tank cars are called "stinkers" for a very good reason. They get contaminated with dangerous chemicals. They are almost always hauling something that is POISONOUS AS SHIT. They leak. If the train climbs the rails and folds up, the tank cars are frequently holed, and the contents explodes and/or catches on fire. The kinds of chemicals they carry cause cancer, they are horrible. DO NOT RIDE A STINKER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Yesterday (Friday, March 6, 2015) a 103-car oil train derailed, caught on fire and exploded in Galena, Illinois. Twenty-one cars derailed. One caught on fire and the fire spread to a total of five cars. Luckily, none of the crew was killed or injured, but if anyone had been hopping that train and had been on one of the derailed cars or near the cars that caught fire it is very likely they would have been killed. DO NOT RIDE STINKERS.

A couple of items that would be very valuable, but are awfully expensive (and therefore highly pilferable out of your gear) is a BACKPACKER'S WATER FILTER and a backpacking stove like a MSR Whisperlite International. This stove can be adapted with different jets to burn gas, kerosene or diesel, if memory serves. Stretch Wilson showed me the first one I ever saw, and we cooked on it a lot. Of course, you can build a fire, but the light and smoke gives away your position, plus, in much of the west there is wildfire danger, and open fires are prohibited and may attract the police. I like creating alternatives to expensive backpacking gear. I have cooked on a "hobo stove" many times. I cook in gunboats and half gunboats (two-pound coffee cans or 1-gallon vegetable cans, and big tuna fish cans. There are tons of things you can make yourself or adapt and repurpose junk you find to your own purposes. Carrying a whole lot of stuff is a bad idea. It's heavy, and it limits your mobility. Instead of carrying lots of equipment, carry lots of knowledge about how to make field-expedient adaptations right on the spot. Stretch carries a Montana bindle---everything you can imagine and the kitchen sink. I prefer to travel much lighter. Later---gotta go to work.

The great majority of my trainhopping was done in the west and northwest, where the opposite situation exists than in New York City--rather than being in a crowded urban situation with gangs, etc., it's situations where there is virtually NOBODY for miles. If you get hurt, if you find yourself in a violent inclement weather situation, if you run out of food and water (especially water) you are in a serious trouble. I'm sure, if you read this thread, that you are picking up on the rules here. Can I enforce these rules? Of course not. If some fifteen-year-old chooses to catch out northbound in late September with no coat, no hat and no gloves, no water, no food, no bindle, no maps, no way to make a fire, what can I possibly do about it? Nothing. Kids do this kind of thing all the time because they are immature, impulsive and feel like they are ten feet tall and bulletproof. If they are lucky, somehow they manage to survive, usually because somebody somewhere takes pity on them and GIVES them what they need, but whose responsibility is it for the kid to have the stuff necessary for survival? Crew changes are dictated by Federal law and union rules. Yes, it's true that the train will "die on the law" no matter where it is, but the rules allow train crews to move the train to the nearest safe place where they can be crew-changed. If they are rolling on schedule, they will stop at whatever regular crew-change spot they are supposed to, but if the train has some kind of breakdown, or there's a wreck, or some emergency situation farther down the line, they may be stuck waiting for the line to clear, and have to be relieved right where they are. That's the big advantage of having a CCG. You can go to wherever the train crews usually change crews, HIDE, and wait for the train to show up and stop. Some crew changes happen in ten minutes, some take longer, sometimes much longer. I HATE CATCHING A MOVING TRAIN. It is dangerous, stupid and unnecessary. Hit 'em when they are standing. Wait until you hear the train "air up" the brakes. When you hear the brake shoes squeak as the air pressure pulls the shoes off the wheel flange, you have just seconds before the bell. In day light, I wait as long as I can, usually. At night, I get on and don't worry about it as much. HIDE. You can look out the door if you are in the boondocks, but don't show yourself in a town or city. People will call in to the cops on their cell phones and rat you out, especially jealous railfans.

Holyfreeholy--Thanks for your kind words. One of the down sides of a free life riding trains is that most tramps don't work enough jobs where they pay into Social Security, so when they get older (62 or so) they either cannot draw much SS or they don't qualify at all. My buddy Stretch Wilson is kind of inn this situation, however he has been homesteading in Casa Grande for quite a while, so he may actually be working a regular job. I haven't heard from him in a while. I have been to NYC a couple of times, but I have never caught out from there, although somewhere 'way up the stack there is a post where I gave a would-be NYC trainhopper the scoop on catching out. Basically, you're better off going to New Jersey. NYC itself has 9-11 security out the ass, and it is kind of unlikely a new trainhopper could successfully catch out of NYC without getting busted. Not impossible, of course. The real hazard is that you would successfully hit a train out in the "open" (probably best at night) and then unknowingly get routed into a high security yard where there's infrared scanners, CCTV, electrified fences, etc. and not be able to successfully sneak out of the yard. New York City is kind of a special case. I've never ridden there or tried to, so if I gave you much advice, I'd be talking out of my ass. All I can say is "Go to Jersey. It's safer, but that's a relative safer. Jersey is hot as a skillet too." There are trains going to Selkirk Yard from Oak Point yard in the South Bronx, but this is a dangerous-as-fuck part of town. It's on Bruckner Blvd., but the directions to get there sound pretty complicated-- take #6 subway to E.143rd. Walk one block north to 144th, go east on 144th to Bruckner, go under Bruckner Expressway, then cross street, turn left (northeast), walk a couple of blocks to 149th, which crosses over tracks. There's supposedly a hole in the fence on the southwest side of the intersection. Climb down to the tracks. BE CAREFUL the first two tracks are a high-speed Amtrak line. Turn left, walk into yard. Frankly, this all sounds dangerous as shit to this country boy. I wouldn't go into the South Bronx to save my soul unless I was armed like an infantry soldier. There is also a catch out at Fresh Ponds Yard in Queens. And the 65th Street Yard in Brooklyn. I don't know shit about New York, it all sounds dangerous as fuck to me. Maybe you are more comfortable in these places than I would be. IMHO, your best bet would be North Bergen Yard south of Little Ferry, NJ. Take the PATH train to Hoboken (where else?) and then the Hudson-Bergen Light Rail line to Tonelle Station in North Bergen. You can see the tracks to the southwest from the light rail station, supposedly. You really need some railroad maps and/or a Professional Railroad Atlas ($75) but people ride freight trains all over this country with no maps whatsoever. Take a good compass, too, and be sure you know how to use it. Walking around New York City with a backpack, sleeping bag, gallon of water, etc. seems like it would attract the cops bigtime, I don't know.

Well, boys and girls, I sat down with a calendar and figured it out-- I've got 635 days until I can retire. That's about 21 months. And then I'll be breathing the sweet aroma of FREEDOM. The day after I strike these shackles off me, I will be rolling west on the first thing smokin'.

Yes ---I gotta admit-- it does annoy me. I read the article twice trying to figure out exactly why it pissed me off. After all, the rails are filled with big talking, self-aggrandizers, guys who say they were a college professor, or a business owner, or a world-class Las Vegas poker player and so on. How is this guy "Catman" really any different? I think what pisses me off is the fact that he's rich and he rides the rails with a bunch of rich-guy executives in tow, who are basically riding with a safety net. It's like one of those "canned hunts" that they have for rich assholes out here in west Texas. They have some 50,000 acre ranch surrounded by a fifteen-foot-high game fence stocked with exotic African and Asian animals and the executives fly in, land on the ranch's corporate jet strip, dine in the ranch's world-class dining room, then are squired out in the boondocks in a 4x4 "hunting car," where ranch employees drive aoudads or wildebeests or some other exotic species past the gun chair and Mr. Big Shot pulls the trigger. They take the "money shot" photo, load up the kill, and while Mr. Big Shot has dinner, ranch employees field-dress the carcass, butcher and wrap the meat and dispatch the hide to the taxidermist shop. A week later Mr. Big Shot gets his trophy delivered by UPS. I hate this guy because the whole thing is PHONEY. Riding a freight train with a Visa Platinum Card in your pocket doesn't make you any kind of hobo, any more than rolling out of a Harley dealership on a brand new YuppieGlide makes you a biker. You gotta EARN IT, motherfucker. And these poseur assholes have not earned it. I kind of hope they run into a Sidetrack Silveria or a Resendez. They want to see how the other half lives, eh? Maybe they'll get a thrill just before the next railroad killer pulls the trigger. Richie Rich poseurs.

It's happened to people with many years of riding experience. Rule # 1--Never get on a train without at least a gallon of water. Rule # 2--Wherever YOU go, your gear goes WITH you.

I was surfing the web and found this article from 2009 when Stray Cat Julie was elected Hobo Queen and Inkman was elected King. Very few photographs of Julie are on the internet, so I thought I'd put up this link. Stray Cat probably has over a million miles on the rails. She has been riding for a very long time. http://globegazette.com/news/local/meet-hobo-royalty/article_42c91d84-4179-58ef-a392-5fae929c814a.html

That's terrible news, Frank. Larry Penn was one of the best of the modern tramp singers, in my opinion, along with U. Utah Phillips and Liberty Justice.

Be careful in North Platte. I hear the food in the Lincoln County Jail is awful. It's a long walk around the yard (seven miles) and I also hear that there are all kinds of infra-red BS and CCTV cameras in the yard, and that it's a "zero tolerance for trespassers" yard, too.

Stop it, you're making me want to dumpster dive Pizza Hut and go catch a train. Must. Resist. Must. Get. A. Haircut. And Go. To WORK.

BTW, although that photograph of Patrick Swayze does look pretty faggola, he was a serious martial artist. He was from Houston, and his mother owned a large dance school here (ballet, jazz, etc.) Not only was he a first class male ballet dancer and strong as fuck, he was a kick-ass black belt in two or three martial art disciplines as well. And his wife was pretty hot, too. The picture does suck, though. Go watch "Red Dawn," the original one. They had to make all the Soviet military equipment in that film from scratch, because the Cold War was still on, and the U.S. had "zero" trade or communication with the Soviet Union (Russia, et al.) You couldn't buy an AK rifle for love or money, and I had never seen an actual AK or any actual 7.62x39mm ammunition. I had only seen a war trophy SKS in a gun shop, and they wanted $350 for it when the minimum wage was about $4.50. This has nothing to do with skate parks.

Probably. But with ten acres of park it ought to be easy enough to avoid people you don't like. Or not.

No idea where there might be a larger one (Australia?) but the new 6.5 MILLION DOLLAR, ten-acre Spring Skatepark opened Thursday, August 14 on Kukendahl Road (pronounced KOOK-en-doll) by the Greenspoint Redevelopment Authority. This is Houston's second large, publicly-owned, free skatepark. It has 78,000 square feet of riding surfaces and includes a huge pipe, a 12-foot vertical ramp, a ten-foot deep, keyhole bowl, a bowl shaped like Texas (of course), and a "lazy river" pathway accessible to even the most novice skateboarders. The first major publicly-owned, free skate park was the 25,000 square foot Lee & Joe Jamail Skate Park near downtown Houston, a favorite of "urban" skateboarders. Spring Skatepark is on a ten-acre piece of land that also includes "Dylan's Park," a playground designed for special-needs children. The designer of both skateparks was Grindline, of Seattle, WA. Both parks were designed to improve Houston's chances to win the bid for the 2014 Summer X Games. (Ultimately, the bid went to Austin, Texas, instead.) It's located in a pretty depressed area. That part of Kukendahl is mostly vacant lots, crappy strip malls, scattered businesses (a gas station, a doughnut shop and a drug store) north of the Greenspoint Mall. There was once a gang war there partially sparked by a gang called the Greenspoint Posse. The skatepark is intended to give kids something interesting to do. How these skateparks got developed is pretty interesting. They had this piece of land in Spring. The closest high school was Aldine High School (a low-income school with a tough-ass reputation), so Greenspoint Redevelopment group went to Aldine H.S. and asked the kids what they would want if they could have anything. More basketball courts? Athletic fields? Swimming pool? The kids overwhelmingly voted for a skateboard park. Within the first hour, over 100 skateboarders signed in. By noon, it was over 400. They're calling Houston "Skateboard City" now. We tried for years, back in the 1960's to get somebody to build a skate park in Houston. Nothing. We also tried unsuccessfully, to get the City and County of Galveston to drop some artificial reefs off the beach at 25th Street and 37th Street to create surf breaks. Again, nothing. They basically told us to beat it. We did build a couple of plywood half pipes, but the neighbors bitched to high heaven because of the noise. I'm glad the kids have got somewhere cool to skateboard now.

Thank you, Xen, for those kind words about learning from this thread. I'm thinking I should avoid listening to Sarah McLachlan's music when I'm drinking red, LOL. And it's not as grim as all that, despite the losses of such important people. I met a couple of young people at the Convention this year who travelled long distances to get there, mainly just so they could meet tramps and find out about catching out and hobo culture. One of them, Latchhook, I spent pretty much the entire convention talking to. It's kind of an odd relationship, because you know (I knew) it was short-lived. Everybody has to go their separate ways when the "circus" is over, and I found myself falling all over myself trying to impart as much knowledge as possible before the convention ended and everybody separated. I found myself thinking, "I've only got so many hours. What is the most important thing to tell her? What piece of information is the most likely to keep him/her from making a fatal mistake?" I really care about this kid. The thought that something I said might lead to her getting hurt is terrifying. Was I too emphatic? Was my insistent tone of voice likely to cause him to disregard my cautions? Was I too casual, when I told her about the hazards of the Life? Was it self-aggrandizement? Was I bragging, making it sound more exciting than I needed to do? When a tramp takes on an apprentice, it's a little bit of a bossy relationship. My old buddy from the 1970's, Rufe, was not shy about telling me straight up when I made a mistake. He only threatened to sever our relationship one time, and that was the time I caught a train in Livingston that he told me not to catch. (It went to the coal mine at Colstrip, Montana, and I had to hitchhike back in disgrace, covered in coal dust.) The difference is during that my friendship with Rufe, as bossy as it was, he was right there 90% of the time, to correct me if I did something 20-years-old-and-knows-everything stupid. Latchhook and the other kid are on their own. I know they listened to me, and hopefully they will gain experience and confidence without any disasters, but the possibility of her getting hurt scares the shit out of me. It's a kind of paradox. The older you get, the more you know and the fewer unnecessary risks you take. The fewer risks you take, the safer you are. The safer you are, the more hazardous the life you led when you were younger seems to be, in retrospect. So you caution the younger people, and they start thinking you just lack guts and the bravado of youth. It's not a lack of courage, it's more the sad knowledge that comes with even sadder experience. An Army recruiter makes life in the infantry sound glorious. The glamor kind of wears off when the first kid steps on the first land mine. There ain't no turning back the clock. Body parts don't grow back. I never intended to try to convince people to become 24-7 tramps. I was trying to educate those kids that were going to try catching out anyway, despite everybody telling them that it was too dangerous, etc., and who had no access to a mentor to show them the ropes. Getting pinched is horrible. But much more dangerous than getting hurt is loving riding trains so much you can't stop. It's like getting addicted to drugs, only you smell worse. Here's another good website, run by St. Louis Frank: http://www.ratpackstlouis.com/hobo-u63.htm

This link is to a little video montage that Tex did way back in the day. I was watching it and got all teary-eyed. More than half the adult tramps in this video are buried in the Cemetery today. Steam Train Maury Graham is gone, and so is his wife, Wanda. Steam Train was a "bridger"--he rode both steam trains in the 1930's and '40s as a kid, and diesel-electric engines in the 1950's and '60s. Liberty Justice is gone. Slow Freight Benita Sankay is gone. Slow Freight was a teenaged hobo girl in the 1930's. Iowa Blackie is gone. Road Hog U.S.A. is gone. Grandpa Dudley is very elderly and sick. Adman has had some kind of brain dysfunction and can barely talk (he has aphasia.) Crash is all grown up and a mother. Shot Down Wills is gone. Spaceman John is gone. Loco Larry is gone. 8-Ball is gone. Preacher Steve (Crash's adoptive dad) is gone. Dog Man Tony is gone. Dante Fuchwha isn't doing too well. Tuck and Frog are still doing pretty well, but there are only three of the original Boxcar Boys Ranch tramps still alive. It's sad to think about. The 1960's Generation of tramps went through this same thing when we lost all the old guys--Fry Pan Jack, Frisco Jack, Scoop Shovel Scotty, Lord Open Road, Hood River Blackie and all the rest. When we're gone, I think that might be the end of it, because the younger kids are not picking up the slack very much. Oops is. But not very many others that I see. Hobo culture is dying. Makes me feel sad.

Well, the Convention was awesome, as usual. There has been a big change in familiar faces since I was there last, four years ago (I think,) Several members of the Boxcar Boys Ranch crew have died and are buried in the National Hobo Cemetery. People who had only just been to one Convention four years ago are now major players. Long-time tramp and trainhopper, and former Hobo King, Spike, is "Grand Head Pipe" of the jungle. (All these weird titles were invented long ago by the four young guys who initially started the hobo organization Tourist Union #63 back in 1899. There were sixty-three original members. The four founding members were Charles Noe, Gilman Fera, Richard "Onion" Cotton and Gene Boudinot. Boudinot is quoted in a newspaper article as saying that TU63 was founded in Danville, Illinois in 1899, that the first convention was held in Three Oaks, Michigan that year, and the second convention was held in Britt, Iowa the next year, 1900. The article makes it pretty plain that the shenanigans of the early 1900s and those of today have quite a bit in common. The first three (tongue-in-cheek) rules were: 1.) An applicant must prove he has "hit the grit," which means "riding the rods for at least 1,000 miles." 2.) An applicant must prove he has "panhandled a Dooky" throughout the entire trip. 3.) An applicant must sign an oath that if ever he is elected to Congress he will legislate for "free soup houses in all railroad stations" and "bigger and better beers." ("Panhandling a dooky" is begging for small amounts of food, potatoes, bread, coffee, sugar, etc. One asked only for a small amount from each place one hit. The tramps asked the lady of the house (usually) for a small amount of coffee or whatever and gave her a small envelope made up of folded newspaper, which she filled with the requested item. If you hit enough houses, you could eventually accumulate enough of the necessary foodstuffs to feed the jungle.) To tell you the truth, these seem like rules with which even modern Road Kid tramps could live. Anyway, it was a good Convention, despite the fact that we had to bury three good tramps. Sidedoor Pullman Kid, who was buried in a pauper's grave eight years ago in Arizona, was disinterred, cremated and his ashes re-buried at the National Hobo Cemetery in Britt last Saturday. We also buried former Hobo King "Hobo Grump." Grump was a black tramp, son of former Hobo Queen "Hobo Lump." Both of them rode the rails extensively, and Hobo Lump rode as far back as the late 1950s. She was there, and buried her son's ashes herself, witnessed by a crowd of several hundred. We also buried a friend of mine, a really good guy and a first-class trainhopper, Milwaukee Mike, who died of a heart attack. And, we also buried Fran DeLorenzo, who never rode the rails I don't think, but who was the creator and maintainer of the very informative and up-to-date Hobo Bulletin Board website--"Fran's Hobo Grape Vine." (The Grape Vine in still up and running, now maintained by my buddy, Flatcar Frank.) Songbird was elected King (the guy has a beautiful voice) and Cindy Lou was elected Queen. Songbird used to host a tramp festival of his own, in Wisconsin, I think. (I never attended it.) And Cindy Lou has attended the NHC for years and years. I served as one of the judges. We had a genuine war correspondent from Al-Jazeera (he was English) and a reporter from an Arkansas daily newspaper there as well. Nobody got arrested. New York Ron was there, despite being banned from the jungle ten years ago for shoplifting in Britt. (It wasn't an issue for those ten years, because he was in prison for something else after he shoplifted and got banned.) The Head Pipe had a chat with NY Ron, and he agreed to keep a low profile and to stay out of the Main Street business district, because he is a kleptomaniac and cannot control it.) A new "cook shack" has been built over the last year by volunteer labor, mainly that of a guy named Medicine Man. They were finishing it up during the Convention, installing doors, a roll-up garage door and so on. Volunteers were painting the outside of the shack gray all during the Convention. The Road Kids helped too, especially a friend named Oops, who has kind of matured from a whisky-soaked road dog into a responsible-but-pretty-gamey coordinator of the field kitchen crew. (He denies he is the Crumb Boss, yet he cooks at every meal.) Oops has more jailhouse tattoos than anybody I have ever met, and he is definitely a tough guy. His birthday was Saturday (I think), and the entire jungle sang him "Happy Birthday" and gave him a huge birthday cookie (instead of a cake.) He responded, "Sometime I really hate you fuckin' guys." Ha, ha. Too bad, Oops, we love your sorry ass anyway. It was a good Convention. If you missed it, you fucked up. There's always next year, though. SECOND WEEKEND IN AUGUST, every year.

Wickedwacko-- Well, the answer to your question(s) is "yes and no." (Sorry.) Yes, people still ride trains. Yes, there is more bullshit and it is more difficult than it used to be. Yes, catching out is illegal. So is graffiti and smoking weed and a zillion other things that people just do anyway despite the possibility of getting arrested. Yes, there is a certain amount of criminal bullshit on the rails in terms of thugs and assholes ripping off other people. Not trying to be a dick (honestly, I'm not) but you are looking at a thread that probably answers all your question ten times over that has been running since most of the readers of this thread were in grade school. Please read the thread. It will take a long time. So what? It took us eight years or whatever to write it all down, so it's probably worth a few hours of your time to read it. Hope you enjoy it.

I'm going up to the National Hobo Convention at Britt this year, leaving for Iowa either tomorrow or the next day. The actual convention is on August 8-9-10. So many of my old friends have died, it will probably seem kind of strange. I'm going to drive up, because I'm on a schedule and I don't want to miss it. A couple of years from now, I'll be retired, then I can do whatever I want. I am really tired of living the straight life and going to work every day. Maybe I'll see some of you guys up there. It'll be nice, just getting a break. I'm going to try to get some pictures this year.

Back in the 60's we were all wound up about "not selling out." I mean, selling out and becoming a "straight" was like the worst treason ever. No way. Not me, man. I was NEVER going to give in to "the plastic people." I was going to be in The Movement, fighting the Man, fighting for the Revolution forever. I was never going to give in. Then one day, I had finally had enough of being poor, broke and unemployed, living in a shit apartment with a bunch of other self-described "freaks." So I decided to give in, get a straight job and join the enemy. We always talked about selling out being bad, but somehow I was thinking it would be a lot more lucrative than this when I finally did sell out to the Man. Turns out The Man could not care less about the Revolution. All he cared about was his business making a profit and selling it to somebody so he didn't have to work any more. You know---"selling out," and living on room service the rest of your life. I'd love to do art for a living, RN. "Ask me about doing the Art Scam instead of working 40-hours-a-week at a job you hate."

The film that inspired the song "Crucify Your Mind (Summer With Monika)" Summer with Monika (1953), staring Ingmar Bergman. NOTICE THE HAT. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BMNxfoltCTM

I just love this guy's music SIXTO RODRIGUEZ-- DETROIT'S TROUBADOUR. BETTER THAN DYLAN. HE WROTE THE SOUNDTRACK OF THE REVOLUTION AGAINST SOUTH AFRICAN APARTHEID. TOTALLY UNKNOWN IN HIS HOME COUNTRY---A FOLK-ROCK GOD IN SOUTH AFRICA, WHERE HIS MUSIC FUELED THE FIGHT FOR FREEDOM. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6bjqdll7DI http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyE9vFGKogs http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qFP-dsl2Z0 Even better with a gallon of Carlo Rossi red. Watch his movie, "Searching for Sugarman." It's a great story and every word true as fuck. DEAD MEN DON'T TOUR--