“Riding the Rails: My Dad’s Adventures Across the Tracks”

The first time my Dad ran away from home he was 11. He didn’t get very far before he was brought back home. He did it again. And again. By the time he was 16, he was more successful at leaving and staying away. His mode of transportation? Trains. This was way back in the day. During the depression. In the days of hopping trains, and of hobos. His words. He never gave too many details, but I remember one story. His starting point was his hometown of Aliquippa, Pa. His end destination this trip was Los Angeles, Ca. The important part of this story was the LA part. Home to sunny skies, temperate weather, and citrus trees. To a hungry young traveler, this was manna. Yet, as my Dad and his travel mates found their way to an orange tree laden suburban neighborhood, the thought never entered their mind to partake of these oranges without permission. He told of how they knocked on a particular door with a front yard full of ripe fruit. When a woman answered the door, they asked if she needed any yard work done, in exchange for oranges, as they were hungry. Just a little lesson in dignity, respect, and the quiet strength of a generation that lived through tough times but never lost their integrity. He was 16.