"Around the Jungle Fire"
by Tim White
I recently attended an unusual event in the small town of Britt Iowa. Britt, like Mt. Horeb, is a railroad town. Annually since 1900 the town celebrates its railroad heritage by hosting a "Hobo Convention." For a week each August hoboes from around the country converge on Britt to swap stories, sing songs and enjoy being the center of attention. I chose to camp in the hobo jungle which is located next to Britt's rail road tracks where the rumble and the roar of freight trains rolling through can still be heard. I enjoyed talking with these travelers with ages ranging from 16 to 93. One can sense, through conversing with the participants of this unusual gathering that the romance of the rails still beats strong in their hearts.
The gathering made me wonder if the Mt. Horeb area had a hobo population which traveled on our line. One 'boe's name which surfaced was "Old Franz" who is buried in the North East corner of the Mt. Horeb Union Cemetery. A small marble marker lies on the edge of the cemetery and reads,
"Old Franz"
Wilmer
1856-1940
It is said that Ike Gesme, then funeral director donated the casket and headstone for the burial.
Lyle Johnson recalled that when assigned to write a theme paper in school he chose "Old Franz" as a subject. He remembered that Franz had said that he once went to seminary to become a priest. When asked why he gave up the priesthood he replied "The heck with the priesthood, I'd rather see the country". Although hard workers many hobos shared Franz's sense of wanderlust.
Walter Durtschi recalled that Franz was seen often seen on the road walking. Here he would approach farmers for pieces of copper or old cloths he could turn around and sell or give away to others.
Eleanor Thousand also remembered Old Franz as well as another hoboe who was known as the "Rag Man". He would stop at farms in the area to ask for any rags or clothing that they were going to throw out. These he would exchange for fresh fruit. In true hobo fashion he would carry his belongings on a walking stick in a bindle.
Olga Eggum remembered her husband Matt's mother saying that hobo's would often come to her back door to ask for a bite to eat. She would always offer the less fortunate a meal. She would have quite a few of these travelers stop and wondered if there was a hobo sign marking her house as a place where a meal could be had. Chances are good this did happened as these travelers had a sign language to tell others of dangers of the road or show them the way to charitable people. The sign which might have marked the eggum house might have looked like this which meant"good hearted woman".
Most hoboes would offer to work for their meals or take an odd job to sustain themselves. Marc Deneen of Riley remembered the men who would ride in the boxcars. His father let Old Franz tend to yard work each fall, cutting back wild grape vines. In exchange for his labor the Deneens would provide a meal.
Although tramp, hobo and bum are often used interchangeably there is a difference between the groups. It is said that a hobo works and wanders, a tramp dreams and wanders, while a bum drinks and wanders. Willie Witwer remarked that Franz never liked to be referred to as a tramp, which would imply that he was lazy and would not work for a meal. Willie said an aunt who lived near Daleyville would always feed Franz and send him on his way with food. Franz once commented that he sure liked a pair of stripped overalls that were on the cloths line, he was given them as his were well worn.
During the great depression when so many were without work, and so many were competing for fewer jobs the hoboes had to turn to begging to sustain themselves. The hoboes did a good job of looking after themselves and would form friendships with other fellow travelers. Many good hearted individuals in society would show charity to these travelers. In Mt. Horeb Reverend Gunderson was said to be one who helped these traveling vagabonds, and the community jail could be counted on to house a needy person for a period of time.
The age of the hobo has just about passed. The old ones have retired from riding and are content with memories of adventures on the road. The younger railroad 'boes looking for adventure find that the life riding the rails is full of dangers and catching a freight is not as easy as it once was. Imagine hitching a ride on Amtrak! A new breed of vagabond, the rubber tramp, travels by motor vehicle, seeing the country from the windshield and not a boxcar door. But be it circumstance or wanderlust these wanderers are an interesting lot and much can be learned from their travels.
I would be interested in knowing more about Franz and any others who traveled through the area in search of work. Did the Mt. Horeb area have any hobo jungles once located along its rails? Does anyone have photographs or remembrances of these folks?
If you have information, remembrances or photographs of hobo life in the Mt. Horeb area please contact: Tim White at 608 845-7312 or tkwhites@tds.net