Teenage Hobo

Three young boys found life thrusting the need of survival during difficult experiences, which people twenty or thirty years older may never face. The experiences they faced daily were unexpected and extremely hazardous. Each event could have resulted in their conquest or end of life. The ages in development of lifes fortitude were with these boys.


Two of these boys were my younger brothers: Jack and David. I was the ripe old age of fourteen at the time the events took place during the summer of 1941. Jack was two years younger, twelve. David was exactly four years younger than I, ten. David had been born on my birthday, as I had been born on our dads birthday.


Each day into the trip began with a fog of apprehension, obscuring any warmth of the morning sunrise. For about thirty days, this apprehension was repeated. The exhausting trudge of walking alongside many miles of highways. The fear of what might occur while riding within noisy freight train boxcars. The wonder if we would indeed make the thousands of miles to our goal of rejoining our unknowing mother in Los Angeles.
All these periods of concern would be with me. I would hope I would be able to conceal these feelings from my brothers. I knew they too must be exhausted, but we had to move on; we had to succeed. I also knew Mother would be angry when she found out about what we had done. She would not be mad. Dogs get mad; people get angry.


The emotions of young people, as we were, did contain periods of fear and painful discomfort. As time rolled by, the world began to appear to pass in slow motion. I felt we were not of the same world that we were dragging ourselves through. I wondered if this was my punishment in hell for the many wrong deeds in my past. If so, why were my brothers being subjected to this same misery?