Evening star., 1932-12-12
BY DANIEL ROBERT MAUE.

The bewildered sons Of 48 States pass
restlessly and hungrily through Times
Square, New York City, between 7 ana
IL o'clock each night.
They may walk there until morning.
these boys Evening draws them to
this glamorous center of entertainment,
charity, food, and whatnot.
Expectant, they come from daytime
seclusion in Brooklyn, the Village, the
Battery. the railroad terminals and the
parks-from resting in rooms OF chance
acquaintance, from washing socks ana
undergarments in lavatories at the
Public Library, frc,n pan-handing
along Fifth avenue, from mapping IN
cheap movie houses, from sleeping on
the benches of subway stations and
trains.
ANY mans son or brother, young and
o transient, may be in Times Square
of an evening.
These lads are part of that restless
rowing, aimless and jobless army which
constitutes one of the big economic
1, problems of this day-intelligent, eager
to work. but unable to find jobs, roam
the continent as they will in quest OF
employment.
Looks to Potter's Field.
lie D6kAlI1St at d1lolCtlk AAAC SSAAOAi
pauses long in New York. But the
sophisticated young hitch-traveler finds
1t the easiest" of all cities. Months
of observation and conversation with
scores of the seemingly unattached
youths in this Eastern goal furnished
the background with which I was to
cross the continent to Los Angeles,
swestern goal of the transient. Per-
'eonal histories accumulated in high
detail I can set down here only an
indicative few stories from New York.
A lean, weathered fellow in worn
blue suit sat on the wall along River
side drive. Mist hung over the Hudson:
The boys slender fingers manipulated
a small circle of cardboard and bit
OF foil. I had seen him there many
times, during weeks. This time, when
he smiled, paused.
when it's finished it'll work the
subway stile," he explained. Then II
I don't get a real nickel, later on can
20 down into the subway to sleep. I've
got slicker down there under a rock.
1t used to keep off the dew. but 1t
isn't very warm now
A week later I again stopped before
him to ask, well, where's it all going
to end?"
ADOLQGT DOy, OdCh EAoAllCy NAAAa eeA-e~S(f
when he told me. his story in Sixth
avenue automat in New York, was still
bedraggled of clothing from 28-day
freight ride to San Francisco and back.
His arrival on the West Coast timed
with some skin eruption, and so he I'M
zfnediately turned back toward New
vYork's free clinics, which he knew. He
had travelled on a bee-line, avoiding
large cities. He knew every DIVISION
point on six connecting railroads. he
drew me a revealing map.
At 90, Jack has been transient apout
two years. He lived in a small ONO
town, intermittently, with MS grand
mother or with his mother and step
father, a lawyer of unpretentious m
come. The stepfather, it seems, IS an
right. but when 16, the boy rode
a freight "just to Cincinnati" Then
after two years high school, he went
to Florida "for the Winter" Returning
home he finished high school, took
junket to New York, again ct nome
studied bookkeeping, only to move III
on Manhattan for the second time
He was Ill of pneumonia or some
thing" for a week in Bryant Park, back
of the Public Library in New YORK;
1.-The fellows" he says, took care OF
me-"
Job Is All He Wants.
'I'd like to go home about Christmas,
but can't, without money and clothes.
/ suppose it's really my shame, because
they think I'm working. A fellow cant
tell his own mother about well, all
this" His round, clean-scrubbed face
with its snub nose bent over his cheap
wind breaker and sagging, soiled trou-
sers. "Oh, If I was sure there was $40
worth Of gold in Alaska, I'd go get IT,
That's how much 7 want job
Neither bitter nor aroused, he went
on: III not need help when times get
little better. I'll get a job. I'll get
out of all this. Thatli come, just
naturally. In the mean time, II go
regular bum, of course I'm done for"
Val Turek came to New York from
the Bohemian settlements Of Cleveland.
He lugged along a 16-pound bronze
Buddha He adored that fat lump OF
metal-until he traded it and days
labor for a more portable Civa. many
armed Hindu goddess. His even more
constant companions were two books,
Life of Buddha" and Song of In
dia," taken, respectively, from the Cleve-
land and Brooklyn Public Libraries.
His spirit subsisted so largely upon
the lore of the Orient that almost no
time was required for the business Of