Knights of the highway: History of hobos in the area

Knights of the highway: History of hobos in the area
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A hobo waits at Shreve Depot in this undated photo. Until World War II, hobos traveled by train — not luxurious passenger trains but freight trains — and were prevalent in both Holmes and Wayne counties.

                        

No one really knows where the name hobo comes from. It could be from Hoe Boy, a transient agricultural worker. Perhaps it’s short for homeward bound, a hobo’s ultimate goal.

Hobos always made clear the distinction between them and tramps, vagrants and bums. A true hobo would travel, looking for work, while the latter three avoided work whenever possible. Tramps would travel from location to location but only to move to a more generous community.

Until World War II, hobos traveled by train — not luxurious passenger trains but freight trains, which were free to use if you had the right stuff. And they needed a lot of the right stuff.

Hobos would target areas where trains were moving slowly or stopped to board, perhaps where trains stopped to take on coal and water or where trains were slowed by long, steep inclines. They also preferred areas located on a sharp curve. This not only slowed the train, but also hid their activity from the officials at the front and rear of the train.

Ideally, a hobo would find an empty box car to ride in. If not, they may have to ride in a boxcar full of goods, a potentially dangerous option if the cargo shifted during the trip. If those two options were not available, the unfortunate hobo would have to choose between riding atop, beneath or between the cars, none of which was desirable, especially on long trips.

Between train rides hobos would stay in established camps known as “jungles.” In Wayne County there were at least two jungles in the Millbrook and Shreve area. Holmes County had several.

It was near Millbrook in 1928 that one young hobo was seriously injured jumping from a moving train. The train was scooping water from a trough. The vibration and water spray convinced the hobo the train was wrecking, and he jumped to escape the calamity. In doing so, his legs were crushed by the train’s wheels. He was taken to Wooster Hospital, where he identified himself as Frank Young of New York City. He died two days later and is interned at Wooster Cemetery in an unmarked grave.

Death was not uncommon in the hobo community, and there were many ways to die. There were reports of hobo riders dying of exposure, locked in a refrigerated box car. And disease frequently took them as they had limited access to medical care.

There is at least one report of a hobo cemetery adjacent to the railroad just west of Shreve. Some of its inhabitants were moved to Shreve Cemetery when it was established, but some no doubt remain there.

Memories of hobos asking for food and shelter in Holmes and Wayne counties are plentiful. Often a kindhearted person would fix a meal for them and perhaps offer a night’s stay in their barn. Other times they were met with anger and told to leave. Either way the hobo would mark the location with a secret symbol to advise future hobos of the situation.

Linda Glassford Frenette recalled, while living in Killbuck as a child, her mom would prepare a bag of food for any hobo who knocked on her door. In fact, on one occasion, one had shoes so worn his toes were sticking out, so her mom gave that hobo a pair of her husband’s shoes.

Kathy Weiss Schmid recalled her father Darryl Weiss, former Holmes County sheriff, pointing out Tramp’s Hollow every time they drove by it, located on state Route 241 just west of Kidron Road.

Jerry Coblentz’s grandmother lived near what is now the Hard Hat Restaurant, located on Wooster’s south end. The same hobo would return year after year, do a little gardening for her, and she would feed him. He was always grateful and very polite.

Becky Fry Schaaf recalled her grandpa and grandma Fry lived along state Route 585 in Wooster, near where Planet Fitness is today. “Once in a while when I was there, a hobo would stop by, and grandma would make him up a sandwich and anything that would fit into his ‘Poke’ as she referred to it. Then they went on their way.”

Jack Glessner remembered living in Sterling when a train stopped at the local slaughter house. A female hobo disembarked from the train and sought food at his family’s home. Glessner’s mother invited her in and fed her. After eating, the woman left, reboarded the train and continued her journey. Mrs. Glessner’s motto was “You may be entertaining angels unaware,” and if someone needed something and she could help, then that was what she was to do.

After WWII trains became faster. With diesel-electrics replacing steam engines, stops were far less frequent and train travel opportunities for hobos died off. But they are still out there, maybe not in the form of popular legend but still traveling from city to city in whatever way they can — hitchhiking, taking advantage of seasonal bus and airline fares, traveling to wherever opportunity awaits.

Looking Back is a feature on area history from local historian Mike Franks, who was raised in Apple Creek and has lived in Wooster most of his life. He can be emailed at bh_looking_back@aol.com.


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