Civil War Diary Entry

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April 23, 1938 Dear Diary, I’m taking you along with me to my journey of hard times. It was March 1938 when I hopped on my first cargo at Owatonna, Minnesota, on a cold winter's night. I was eighteen years old, traveling with Faham, my husband of seven months, and his 13-year-old nephew, Subhan. The newspaper Faham worked for in Kenyon, MN, had folded, leaving him out of work and that‘s the reason we left our home. Faham’s older brother, a carpenter at Casper, Wyoming offered him an apprenticeship in the trade. "We gathered a few warm clothes, a frying pan, a pot, three small pie tins, some knives and forks, my husband's rifle, shells, and our bedding. We had three one dollar bills for the three of us, which we hoped would last until…show more content…
He was standing being the railroad detective. He told the man that Faham, was lying down in a boxcar. "When the detective saw Faham he asked if he needed a doctor, but my husband told him he only had a headache. He questioned Faham; then said he believed our story. "‘Don’t let me see you getting on this train.' He turned his back on us and never looked our way again. Subhan and I climbed into the boxcar, getting as far back as we could. We thought we were going to the 'hoosegow,' for sure. Instead, we'd the good fortune to run into a railroad detective with a soft heart! "At Crawford, we all piled from the boxcar and went to a hobo jungle across the tracks. The hoboes had a fire going, with a big stew pot. An old hobo offered me some coffee in a dirty tin can. I didn't want to refuse his kindness, and took a sip. The worst coffee I ever tasted in my life. I swallowed it and prayed to God it wouldn't make me sick. "The old hobo lifted the lid from his stew pot. I saw all kinds of vegetables floating in a greasy mess. The carrots still had their green tops on them. The hobo asked us to stay and eat stew with him, but I caught my husband's eye. 'Thank you kindly,' we told him and left, saying we wanted to look the town…show more content…
The longer I sat there, the hungrier I got. I pointed to some houses near the tracks. 'I'm going to ask for food,' I said. "A lady came to the door with a child in her arms. She looked me up and down. I felt shamefully aware of the dust and dirt on my coat, my muddy wool-lined ankle snow boots. I wanted to run, but my hunger was stronger than my shame. "‘Lady, I haven't eaten for days. I'm awfully

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