The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1936-02-29
Vagabond
from
Indiana
ERNIE PYLE

JACKSONVILLE Fla. Feb. 3D.
J All down the coast, all the way
from Norfolk to the Florida line.
you are driving through a swamp.
There are, I would be willing to
bet, at least six billion snakes IN
these swamps. They are asleep
right now, thank Heaven.
Now and then the road picks out
solid stretch and runs along with
fields and trees and dry land on
either side, but that is the excep-
ton.
Mostly the road is built up on
grade and on both sides are dark
forests, filled with an ominous thick
underbrush, standing in foul, silent
water.
Once in a while the forests dis
appear and there is q tall, brown
sword like grass, stretching level
and far like a prairie wheat field.
But you know that underneath it IS
water, and it makes you shudder.
n y
TINE towns look like small towns
l. most anywhere. But in the
country the shacks are old. Ninety
per cent of the country population
along the coastal road must be
colored.
In the Carolinas the shacks are
mostly of clapboard, never painted.
Some of them have two stories, with
only one room on each flooor, and
they're taller than they are wide.
They invariably lean. I never saw
so many Leaning Towers of Poverty
anywhere.
On Sunday afternoon you rect
droves of Negroes, walking along
the highway, going home from
church. They are dressed up and
they look happy.
The Negro country churches are
always big, barnlike affairs, I'M
painted, with huge unceurtained
windows. They sit on pillars of
brick and you can see under them.
They seem lonesome and cold, in
drah contrast to the heat and emo
ton of Negro worship that goes on
inside them.
One little old colored woman was
walking along the road, with
dozen big sticks of firewoood BAL
anced on her head. A string was
tied around the wood She stopped
and turned clear around, but the
load of wood never even teetered.
A FEW years ago, the road in
N Georgia was lined with tur-
pentine camps. You would see hum
dreds of trees with wide notches
cut in them, and little cans hang
ing on the side, to catch the sap.
Now, there are only three or four
such places. The turpentine bust
ness is or the bum.
When you cross into Georgia,
big black and yellow sign tells you
that if you're a vagrant, and are
caught, you'll do time on Georgia's
chain gangs.
You see colored men in punches,
all in black-and-gray stripes, work
ing on the roads. Hard looking
characters, in sheepskin coats, with
rifles under their arms. stand look
ing at them.
North Florida is the same as
Georgia. You wouldn't know the
difference, except for the elaborate
arch across the highway out in the
wilderness there, saying Florida"
EVEN Jacksonville, 80 miles be-
IL low the line, isn't what we
picture Florida to be. Tt has some
palm trees, and a lot of hotels, but
otherwise it's like other cities. You
don't get the Hollywood Spanish
effect, or the droves of idle. bath
ing-suited money spenders, that you
get farther south.
Everybody here thinks and talks
about the Florida Canal. In one
of the taprooms painted on the
mirror back of the bar, is big sign
saying, TRY our Roosevelt Canal
Special pick-me -up-15 cents"
More people are coming to Flor
ida this year, they say, than any
year since 1929. The newspapers
run big stories about how trains
from the north are running in six
sections, getting people out of the
cold.
A story in one paper had head
saying TITS a Long, Long Way to
California" The story told about
family in Wisconsin who started to
California, got snowbound within a
few miles of home, and had been
stuck right there for week.
Since they didn't even get out of
Wisconsin, it seems to me they'd
have been snowbound even if they
had been starting for Florida, but
of course the Florida papers don't
see it that way.