Date: Mon, 27 Nov 2023 14:49:09 -0500
From: James Karvonen <jameskarvonen5@gmail.com>
Subject: Song of the Lonesome Steel Rails : 53.

    "Oh my God! I cannot be caught like this!" The Frenchman cried out
when he heard the bleating of the police whistles downstairs in the
lobby. He pushed Bobby off of him, sat up with a start his face paled
with fear. Rolling naked off the bed he scrambled around finally grabbing
his clothes. As more whistles downstairs filled the air the Frenchman
started pulling on his clothes as fast as he could manage. Bobby still
naked wasn't sure what to do. He needed to get dressed also and somehow
get out of the building before the New Orleans Police force raiding the
brothel came up the stairs. Even now the narrow hallway connecting the
upstairs rooms with the stairs were filled with confusion. The girls and
their clients who were still trying to pull on their clothes even in the
hallway were trying in vain to somehow get downstairs to make their
escape without getting caught. The fear of getting caught by the police
and being sent back to Pine Island after all these months weighed heavy
on Bobby's mind and he was determined that that wasn't going to happen.
  Finally the Frenchman was dressed. He grabbed whatever other belongs he
had and rushed out of the door leaving Bobby alone. Bobby quickly pulled
on his clothes. He remembered that there was a fire escape at the end of
the hallway. To get away from the police, that fire escape would be his
only means of escape unless the police were outside the building right
now surrounding it. Once Bobby was dressed, he pushed his way out into
the hallway. The hallway was virtually clear right now. In the lobby
downstairs the cries and screams along with the whistle toots seemed
almost overwhelming. The police hadn't started coming up the stairs yet
because they were rounding up the prostitutes and clients who were
downstairs in the lobby. It was then that Bobby decided to make his
getaway. He ran down the narrow hallway to the last room then opened up
the door. No one was in the room because they probably had evacuated the
room when they heard the police downstairs at the onset of the raid.
Entering the room he headed directly toward the window, unlatched it then
opened it wide enough for him to crawl out of the room. He was met by a
cold breeze
and misty rain that was typical of winter in New Orleans. He clamored
through the window onto the fire escape. The railings were cold and wet
from the misty rain coming down. Taking a deep breath, Bobby grabbed the
railings of the ladder then started climbing down. He could not help but
to wonder why no one else in the brothel who was upstairs when the raid
began thought about using this fire escape to get away from the police
who were now downstairs. Bobby reached the bottom of the ladder and found
himself in a narrow alleyway. Which way to go, that was a decision that
he had to make. He decided to head towards Bourbon Street which ran in
front of the brothel. To his left he could see at least three police cars
with lights flashing and a couple of Paddy wagons in front of the
brothel. Already clients and prostitutes were being shoved and loaded up
into the Paddy wagons to be taken to jail, the last place that he wanted
to be. He could not help to wonder where Little Lucas and Josh were
amongst all this confusion going on around him. He knew that to avoid
getting caught he couldn't stay around there much longer. Despite the
misty rain there were still several groups of people along Bourbon Street
celebrating New Year's Eve. Of course many of these individuals were now
watching and cheering on the midnight raid that was taking place at the
Sheiks Brothel just down the block. Turning Bobby quickly headed in the
opposite direction down Bourbon Street wanting to get away from the New
Year's Eve crowd and the raid that was now taking place at the Sheiks
Brothel.  The nasty cold misty rain made it all the more uncomfortable
for Bobby as he headed down the sidewalk. Once he had gotten far enough
away from the Sheiks Brothel he had a decision that he now had to make.
It was only an hour or so passed midnight, meaning that daybreak was
still at least four or five hours away. Even though the streets in the
French Quarters in New Orleans were dimly lit at this time of the night,
Bobby still had no idea which way to go or what street to go down. He
tried to remember the streets that they took from the railroad tracks to
get to the Sheiks Brothel over two months ago, but with the misty rain
and darkness it was hard for him to think straight. No matter how hard he
tried he couldn't think straight. As tired and as exhausted as he was,
Bobby finally decided to find some alleyway that afforded some, if any
protection from the misty rain that falling located well away from the
brothel to try to get some sleep. After a little searching It didn't take
him that long to find that alleyway located several blocks away from the
brothel. There was a overhanging roof between the two separated by the
alleyway that would offer him at least a little protection from the rain
and wind. He ducked into that alleyway and headed towards a couple of
trash cans where he found an  old torn up mattress that someone was
throwing away. Without giving it any other thought he sat down on top of
the mattress, his back leaning up against the brick wall of the building
where he tried to relax until daybreak finally arrived. It was still
chilly and damp but at least he was out of the cold misty rain that
continued to fall.
      For the next few hours since making his escape from the brothel,
Bobby huddled with himself tightly in that dark alleyway on top of the
mattress. He thought about the night and how it had been The night a
nightmare for him. When the raid took place downstairs in the lobby he
barely made it out of the brothel before the policeman started coming
upstairs. There was very little time to grab clothes to pull on. If it
wasn't for the  fire escape in the back of the building that the
Frenchman did not know about, Bobby would never had made it out.
Everything that took place a couple of hours ago had taken place so fast
that no one was prepared for it. The police raid had come as a total
surprise.
      Alone once again Bobby was now facing the fact that  he was out on
his own.  He could never go back to the brothel now even if he wanted to.
More than likely the New Orleans Police department had already closed
down the place for the selling illegal alcohol and of course sex
involving minors. He had no idea what type of fate had befallen on Josh,
little Lucas, or the rest of the girls including who lived and worked at
the brothel. Of course Madame Eustis was on his mind also. She had taught
him a lot and had been very kind to him during his two month stay there.
He knew that he would never see any of them again. The other problem that
Bobby was now facing was that fact that he had no money, no clean change
of clothes, no supplies, no blanket roll, no nothing! There was no way
that he could go back to the brothel, not with what had just gone down.
    The dampness from the misty rain that had soaked through his clothes
felt cold and very uncomfortable. To keep warm he huddled with himself
even tighter using his own body heat for that minimal warmth that he was
feeling. Unable to sleep, he thought about what he going to do and what
his future plan of action would be? He was no better off now than he had
been when he arrived at the brothel almost two months ago. The only
alternative that he had was to head back to the railroad and once again
attempt to ride the rails. Bakersfield California was still a long ways
off.  Since leaving New York nine months ago, from what he could remember
about the railroad map of the United States he wasn't even half way to
his destination yet. Because of the circumstances that he was now facing,
his only alternative now was to get out of New Orleans as soon as
possible, hop a westbound freight train that with any luck would get him
to Bakersfield California where his father lived. That was now the main
goal and objective that he had on his mind.
     He wasn't sure how long it would be before the sun finally rose in
the east. Since making his escape from the brothel he had lost all
concept of space and time. He was cold, wet and miserable, and the misty
rain that was dampening his spirits didn't help matters any in the least
bit. Tears welled up in his eyes. Would he ever make it to Bakersfield,
California? Bobby wondered. One thing for sure, he couldn't stay in New
Orleans. He had to keep moving if ever he was going to reach his
destination.
     After what seemed like an eternity the eastern sky began to lighten.
Daybreak had finally arrived after a miserable night  away from the
brothel. At least for now he was safe and away from the police that had
rounded up the others at the brothel. What now, Bobby wondered? Cold,
wet, and miserable he slowly stood up. He had to get to the railroad,
even if it meant walking for who knows how long to get there. Once he got
to the railroad he had to somehow find a train that would be  heading
west. From what he could remember after planning his route out months
ago, the railroad from New Orleans that would take him to Bakersfield,
California was called the Southern Pacific Railroad. Somehow he had to
get to the SP railroad yards located in or outside of the city of New
Orleans in order for him to continue his journey. Where that railroad
yard was however and how he would get there he had no idea. Wherever in
the city that railroad yard was located if he was going to find it before
days end he had to start moving, and moving now. So where to begin? That
was the question that was facing him right now.
    After giving it some thought from Bourbon Street he had to head to
Canal Street then try  and retrace his steps back to the Union Passenger
Terminal. From the railroad station he could walk the tracks to the main
freight yards that he vaguely remembered when he arrived in New Orleans
back in November. It had been almost two months since he, Josh and Daisy
had come to the brothel from the railroad.
     As daybreak set in, Bobby was on the move. The misty rain continued
to hamper him, but he couldn't let the rain stop what he had set out to
do. After all there was no other  place for him to go. There was a damp
chill in the air which also made things miserable for him, but as long as
he kept moving the damp chill would not bother him all that much. His
body heat would keep him warm.
    Gradually as the early morning progressed and warmed up, the misty
rain let up and the sun finally began to peek through clouds. The
sidewalks were once again getting crowded with pedestrians on the move
despite being January 1st a holiday. The traffic on the cobblestone
street was beginning to build up with trolley cars, motorized vehicles
and horse drawn vehicles crowding the narrow street located in the heart
of New Orleans. It wasn't until midmorning that Bobby finally reached
Union Passenger Terminal in downtown New Orleans. Even during this
holiday time the station was busy. If only he had enough money to
purchase a train ticket from New Orleans to Bakersfield California his
problem would be solved. There were numerous trains at the terminal
waiting on the platforms ready to leave for whatever their destination
right now. One of those trains had to be going to California. But
unfortunately that wasn't the case. He was flat broke and had nothing
other then the clothes on his back. He was hungry and needed to get
something to eat even if he had to beg for it. Dressed the way that he
was he looked like the pauper that he actually was.
     The interior terminal platforms were crowded with passengers on this
New Year's day coming or going to wherever their destination was. He made
his way to the end of one of the platforms to the tracks that eventually
would lead past the coach and Pullman  yards, roundhouse and coaling
facilities for the numerous locomotives  of the trains that arrived or
would be departing New Orleans. Now that he was walking along the tracks
instead of on the platform he had to be careful not to be caught by the
railroad bulls who he felt sure would be patrolling this area, especially
during this holiday season. The area that he was now walking the tracks
through was smoky and noisy from the numerous steam locomotives. Off on
the other side of the tracks in the coach and Pullman yards passenger
cars from various railroads were being shunted back and forth by steamy
0-6-0  locomotives otherwise known as yard goats.
     As tired, thirsty and hungry as he was Bobby continued to walk
trackside trying to get through the railroad yards just outside of Union
Terminal without getting caught by the bulls. So far he hadn't seen any
railroad police, so he kept walking wanting to get out of the terminal's
yards as soon as possible. Once out of the yards he would have another
decision to make. He felt sure that the railroads using the passenger
terminal would split at a Y with trains going north, east and west just
outside of the railroad yards. The Southern Pacific passenger trains
would more then likely go west. Once out of the yards that would be the
direction he would have to go along the tracks to get to the Southern
Pacific freight yards. Once in the yards he would have the best chance of
hopping into an open box car on one of the westbound Southern Pacific
freight trains that would take him cross country to Bakersfield,
California. How many days that would take him to reach Bakersfield from
New Orleans would be anyone's guess? He still had to face the fact that
he had no food, water, blanket roll or money to make that trip.
     So as Bobby made his way through the large railroad passenger and
Pullman car yards in New Orleans all these thoughts were racing through
his mind. His stomach was grumbling from not having eaten anything since
last night's New Year's Eve dinner at the Sheiks Brothel.
     It took a good hour or so, but finally Bobby found himself out of
the railroad yards and at the Y where the main line tracks fanned out to
the North, East and West. There was a switch tower located in the center
of the wye that controlled the movement of trains in and out of Union
Terminal. From his vantage point he was noticed a SP passenger train
leaving the station that veered west on the wye. The train was being
pulled by a hefty 4-6-2. It moved slow through the wye putting up a lot
of smoke. It had twelve passenger cars that included a couple of Pullman
sleeping cars and a dining car. The observation car had a circular
nameplate at the end of the cars platform that read Sunset Limited. If
only he was on this train, Bobby thought he would be heading to
Bakersfield California right now. But unfortunately that was not the
case. He watched as a train made its way slowly around the wye then once
it was on the main line tracks started picking up speed. Within minutes
the train was out of sight. Sighing to himself Bobby continued walking
the tracks to the busy four track mainline then turned west in the
direction that he saw the Sunset Limited take. He was hoping that the SP
freight yard would not be that far away from the main passenger terminal.
He was tired having  slept very little that previous night. About a
quarter of a mile away west from the Union Terminal Wye he saw a large
campsite in a shaded grove not far from the tracks. He couldn't believe
his luck. He had stumbled upon a Hobo Jungle. Making his way toward the
campsite he saw at least fifteen other hobos moving in and about the
area. Some of them were huddled around a large campfire keeping warm or
cooking. Surely there would be someone, somewhere within that hobo jungle
who he could heading west  to California that he could join. Hopefully
once he entered the jungle that one of the hoboes would offer him some
food and water. He had learned since leaving New York that there was a
Creed amongst hobos to help fellow travelers who are in need.
     He made  his way slowly down the railroad embankment from the
mainline tracks into the jungle.  Following the Creed of hobos there just
might be someone that would be willing to lend him a helping hand. Being
that a Hobo Jungle was here, told Bobby that the SP freight yards would
not be all that far away from after all. Even if no one helped him that
would still be to his advantage.
     Walking down the embankment into the campsite he was met with stares
from other hobos both  that were mingling around within the jungle. He
made his way slowly to the campfire where there were a few hoboes sitting
around talking and cooking. The smell of baked beans, bacon and other
food being cooked over the campfire made his stomach rumble. Since his
clothes were still damp from the rain last night he felt a little chilled
and needed to warm up a little.
     "Hey Gus! Looky over here at this visitor we have, a little kid!"
One of the grizzled face hoboes exclaimed.
     "A little kid, huh? Sure enough." A bearded hobo replied.
      Before long, Bobby found himself surrounded by hobos. Within
seconds he was barraged by questions.
     " You riding the rails kid?"
     "What's your name?"
     "How old are you boy?"
     "Names Bobby, I'm twelve and yes I'm riding the rails." Bobby heard
himself reply.
    "Where you from?"
    "How long you been riding the rails?"
    "Where's your supplies?"
      The questions that the other hobos were asking suddenly seemed to
be overwhelming to Bobby as he tried to answer each and every one of the
questions individually. The hobos  gathered around him seemed impressed
by a boy who was seemingly on his own joining them. Bobby finally told
them that he was heading to Bakersfield, California. That seemed to
impress them even more.
     "You heading to Bakersfield California, that's a long ways without
having supplies. " One hobo pointed out which was something that Bobby
already knew.
     "You hungry?" Another hobo asked.
      Bobby quickly nodded. That was a good indication that the hoboes
we're following the Hobo Creed.
     "Well then come on and, join me with some beans. Dagger get this
here boy a clean tin plate and cup. "
     " Will do Injun Joe."
     " Do you have a moniker?" Injun Joe asked.
     " Little Chooch." Bobby answered remembering the name that Quack had
given him.
     " Little Chooch, and you're from where? "
     " New York."
     " Whoeee, and how long have you been on the road? "
     " Since June." Bobby replied.
      " And you say your heading to Bakersfield, California. If you've
been on the road since June, why is it taking you so long? "
     " You should have been in Bakersfield within a months time or less."
      "Come on Stovepipe. He's just a kid, way to young to be riding the
rails."
      " I had no other choice. I ran away from a reform school and if I
stayed in New York they would have caught me and sent me back with time
added." Bobby replied. And then for the next several  minutes without
going into specific details he told the hoboes that had gathered around
him his story. They were all impressed by a boy that young riding the
rails on his own. Even after he was handed a plate of beans and coffee he
continued his story. The main part of his story that he made a point to
leave out was the brothel that he had been living here in New Orleans
since early November. It took him a few minutes but he came up with
another story about his stay in New Orleans why he had no money or
supplies.
     "That's quite an adventure Little Chooch." Stovepipe said.
      It was then looking over Stovepipe's shoulder that he noticed a
familiar face standing by a tree not far away talking to another hobo. It
couldn't be, was the first thought that came into Bobby's mind. He sat
the plate of beans and cup of coffee off to the side then without saying
anything stood up.
     "Excuse me for a second, " he told the other hobos that had been
listening with interest to his story. He walked slowly over to the
familiar person he saw not all that far away.
    Quack looked different from the way he looked after getting separated
in Atlanta. He now sported a short scraggly beard and wore his hair long
and braided. But it was Quack all right, there could be no doubt in
Bobby's mind about that.
     "Quack! " Bobby shouted as he started rushing towards him.
     Quack turned and looked at the kid that was calling out his name.
For a brief moment he just stood there frozen not saying anything or
making any move.
    "Quack!" Bobby shouted again, this time even louder.
    "Little Chooch, is that you?" Quack finally answered. He watched as
Bobby ran over to him. He couldn't believe that it was the young boy that
he had met back near Alexandria, Virginia and had grown to love and
cherish until their separation in Atlanta. Realizing that it was Bobby,
Quack opened up his arms to embrace him.
     With tears streaming down his soft downy cheeks Bobby rushed into
Quacks arms. They embraced like the long lost lovers that they were.
     "Little Chooch, it can't be! God, I thought that I would never see
you again! " Quack cried hugging Bobby even tighter.
     Before long the other hobos that Bobby had been talking to gather
around them.
     "You know this boy Quack?" Injun Joe asked.
      Quack looked over at Injun Joe, Stovepipe and the other hobos that
had been listening to Bobby's story. "I sure do, that's my little
traveling buddy. We got separated in Atlanta back in October. I didn't
think that I would ever see him again. "
     " Well isn't this a small world after all. " Stovepipe chuckled.
     The other hobos nodded in agreement. In Quacks embrace Bobby now
felt even more safer and secure then he had since arriving in New Orleans
two months ago. He felt sure that he and Quack would once again become
traveling companions and head west together. Yes, he thought, they had a
lot of catching up to do since the time that they had been separated, a
lot of catching up to do in more ways then one.....