Hobos For A Day Poem by Raymond Farrell

In the early 1960s
There were still hobos
Riding the rails
Growing up in a railroad hub
Saw a few hobos
Stop over as they switched trains
Some would hoof it
Across town from the CN line
To the CP lines
They'd rap on our door
My mother would feed them
Then give them a sandwich
In a paper bag for later
All were polite, decent folk
Just down on their luck.

It was the summer
Just before I turned 13 years old
When my friend Johnny and I
Boarded a vacant freight car
Thinking we'd ride the train
A little ways
And then jump off.

The train started with a lurch
And sped up
Much quicker than we anticipated
In short order
The rail yard was far behind us
And it was moving too fast
To jump off.

An hour and a half later
We were in Kingston
The train slowed and we jumped off.

A mild crisis can clear the mind
We had the good sense
To stay put
And wait for a train
Going in the opposite direction
Fortunately, one came within the hour
And we were back home
Just in time for dinner.