To Mothers displeasure, my sister Georgia would listen to the
hobos tell their storiesthey had some good ones like the one a
hobo told her of trying to hop off a fast freight with his buddy before
the train reached the security yard. He related, My foot came
short of the step, and fell, and, still clinging to the handle-bar,
I was dragged several yards before I let go. And there I lay for several
minutes shaken, while the train passed swiftly on into the darkness
. . . At length I attempted to climb to my feet, and only then to discover
that my right foot had been cut off just above the ankle. But it was
worse for my buddy, Joe; he was sucked under the train and severed completely
at the waist. I crawled over to his top half and asked if there was
anything I could do for him. Ill always remember his final words.
He said, Please hand me my ass so I can take one last shit.