I’m all like, “Whatevs, let’s get this whip out on the road. Cali’s a long way.” We roll through OKC and it was tight. But I don’t see us havin’ that kinda lifestyle no time soon. Can’t get distracted by what might be. Gotta live here an’ now, you know? I think the shock of the big city and all the bling there made Gramps realize that how different some people live than all us farmers scrapin’ by. Or maybe it was the heat. But that night, we ran into some nice folks, the Wilsons, who let him crash in their tent. Then, all of a sudden, it was lights out, Gramps. RIP, old man. This time, we did the buryin’ ourselves. It kills me that he lived his whole life on the farm, and gets buried five hundred miles away.
Anway, with the Wilsons, things felt good, we really got movin’ and shakin’ when we teamed up. We busted straight on through ‘Zona and New Mexico. Started hearin’ some scary news comin’ outta Cali, though. Some guys say the landowners get way more people to come out than they need. Then, everybody’s there and takes less money than they should. Say there ain’t no way to earn a living. Ugh... Pa and Uncle John and me don’t like the sound of the news, but there ain’t no way we turnin’ back now.
Noah decides he’s just gonna drop off and live off fishin’. Good luck with that, bro.
Man, 5-0 be everywhere out here, too. Grams was never right ever since Gramps passed on. She was sick ‘bout to die and some cop comes in the tent and tells us we got to go! Whassup with that! Tellin’ you, that’s what pushed her over the edge.
We got inspected by another cop once we got on the road and Ma tells them we in a rush to get her help, but I think we all knew... she was already gone. RIP Grams. You gone to a better place, I’m sure. Wish we could’ve given you better.
Writin’ this from Hooverville, CA. We made it here, but it ain’t as good as we’d hoped. And now we’re down two old-timers, my big bro, and a dog. I know what you’re sayin’ Bud. It can only get better from here.
Word to your moms, tune in next time.
Joadacious
Wow, Tom. That sounds pretty miserable. I know it’s not fun to lose people you love. Did they leave you anything to remember them by? It sounds like they were in kind of a rush.
ReplyDeleteThat’s exciting that you made it to Hooverville! I was just in Hooverville, Michigan, myself. It was a really nice place, where everybody worked together. And I got my first kiss from a pretty girl named Deza Malone. Me and my friend Bugs learned that a lot of people are having trouble finding work all over the country - even in Oklahoma and California. We wanted to catch the train and go west, where we thought we might be able to make some money and find a way to live, now that we’re both on the lam from the Home.
But something funny and confusing happened when we were trying to leave. First, it turns out, the train people do everything they can to keep people from hitching rides. They left early, so we had to run miles to catch it. They even hired some folks to protect the trains with guns! I missed the train and went back to the Hooverville, and the police tore the whole place down... I hope that doesn’t happen to your Hooverville.
There’s only one thing left for me to do. Walk to Grand Rapids, Michigan to find my dad, Herman E. Calloway.
Woop-zoop-sloop!
BudNotBuddy
That's crazy, Bud! I can't believe there's Hooverville's all over the country. You know how slow news travels in the 1930's. It's not like we have the internet or blogs or cable TV yet, you know? We get most of our news by word of mouth, newspapers and maybe radio. Thanks for the well-wishes. Good luck finding your pop!
ReplyDeleteJoadacious