The morning is bright and all
are sleeping on the jungle grass,
with our arms for pillows,
and coats for covers.
-J. H. Walsh
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hellraisers Journal, Tuesday September 22, 1908
Adventures of the Overall Brigade Enroute to Chicago
From The Industrial Union Bulletin of September 19, 1908:
[J. H. Walsh on the I.W.W’s Red Special, Part I of II.]
In my last article to the Bulletin, I concluded just as we were ready to get to the railroad yards, to take our “Special” en route to Chicago.
Well, we’re in the yards, gathered together at the water tank. In order to know if all are present, we have numbered ourselves. The numbers run from one to nineteen, Mrs. Walsh making twenty. A switchman is seen and he informs us where our “Special car” will be found. The train is late however, and we are delayed a few hours. “Fly Cops” are pretty busy in the yards. They are watching their master’s property that some hobo may not break a sacred seal and pile into a car where valuable merchandise is stored.
Two blasts of the locomotive whistle are heard and the train is starting on it’s journey, and simultaneously nineteen men, all dressed in black overalls and jumpers, black shirts and red ties, with an I. W. W. book in his pocket and an I.W. W. button on his coat, are in a “cattle car” and on our way.
In a short time a glim (lantern) appears and the breakman jumps into the car. His unionism is skin-deep. He belongs to the B. of R. T., but never heard of the class struggle. He is unsuccessful, however, in the collecting of fares, and we continue are journey.
Our first stop, where we expect to hold a meeting is Centralia, and when about half way there, “our car” is set out. There is only one now left in the train to ride on. It is an oil car, so nineteen men will be found “riding” on that car as soon as the train starts. Being delayed for a few hours again, while the train is being transferred across the ferry, we are hovered around the first campfire toward the wee sma’ hours of morning. At last two short blasts of the whistle are heard, and all are aboard. It is only a short distance to our destination and the train is whirling along at passenger speed. The morning is turning cold and spitting a little rain, but all are determined to stick to the car, when again, appears the brakeman and tells us we cannot ride since daylight has come, but he is informed that we must get to Centralia. He insists we’ll get off at the next stop, but we fail to get off, and in a few minutes we arrive at our first stop.
