November 24, 2006
CAN'T BLAME A FELLA FOR LOVIN' THE RAILS:
Steam Train Maury, 5-Time Hobo King, Is Dead at 89 (DOUGLAS MARTIN, 11/23/06, NY Times)
Steam Train Maury, who started life as Maurice W. Graham until a train whistle’s timeless lament compelled him to hop a freight to freedom and, much later, fame, as the first and only Grand Patriarch of the Hobos, died on Nov. 18 in Napoleon, Ohio, near Toledo.Posted by Orrin Judd at November 24, 2006 12:31 PMMr. Graham was 89 and chief caretaker of the hobo myth, a cornerstone of which is the hobos’ term for death: “taking the westbound.†In his case, that last westbound freight left the yard when he suffered the last of several strokes and slipped into a coma, Phyllis Foos, manager of Walter Funeral Home in Toledo, said.
Mr. Graham wrote a book about his life on “the iron road,†was a founding member of the Hobo Foundation and helped establish the Hobo Museum in Britt, Iowa. At the National Hobo Convention in Britt, he was crowned king five times — in 1973, 1975, 1976, 1978 and 1981 — and, in 2004, was anointed grand patriarch.
No one else has ever been named a hobo patriarch. Mr. Graham also had the title Life King of the Hobos East of the Mississippi.
Reminds me of growing up in the coal fields of Southern Illinois many years ago. The hobos would come thru, compliments of the Illinois Central RR, in the Spring of the year. They would be making their way East and South. Some would stop and spade a garden, or install window screens, or clean up some winter trash. That would be good for a bacon & egg sandwich or a piece of pie. They never caused trouble that I remember. Most were pleasant guys.
There were two (Brownie & Snakehips) that made the city their home during the summer. Sweeping out taverns, cleaning sidewalks, etc., then drift out West or South for the winter.
There was a story told that I assume is true. I know the people. Two couples were driving out to California about the time Brownie decided it was time for him to go too. The couples saw him walking down the street the day they left. He had no bags or any indication he was traveling. They arrived in California about 4-5 days later and stopped to visit friends. The friends mentioned that Brownie was by just the day before asking for a handout.
They knew the roads and rails like few people could.
I grew up in a railroad town back in the days when hobos used to still come through. Back then there were two claimants to the title "King of the Hobos" and the Mississippi wasn't a consideration. They were "Scoop Shovel Scotty" and Richard "The Pennsylvania Kid" Wilson, who also went by the name "Montana." Never much cared for Wilson. He carried a knife in his boot and would use it and would try to get kids to beg for him. I was glad when Scotty took the title from him.
Posted by: D. B. Light at November 25, 2006 1:57 AM
If you're interested in a recently written, very graphic, bloody thriller about a hobo check out "The Drift" by John Ridley. I enjoyed it a lot.
Posted by: Rich Plumb at November 27, 2006 3:21 PM