I Am a Fugitive from a Georgia Chain Gang!

VIII. An Unfortunate Marriage

C H A P T E R V I I I T An "Unfortunate Marriage TILL IN my fifty-cent cotton shirt, my overalls, "gin house" Stetson and all, with sixty cents in my pocket, I wasin Chicago. At last! I had hitch-hiked a ride in a friendly auto and here I was. I got out at Roosevelt Road and Crawford Avenue. I spent the day looking for a job in this vicinity, without success. Evening came and I had to have a place to sleep. I walked into the main part of the city, east along Roosevelt Road. At Kedzie Avenue soap-box spell-binders were holding a meeting. Each speaker when he finished passed the hat around. My entire wealth was twenty cents, a hat, shoes, shirt, and overalls. Night was approaching and I needed money. I listened to the spiel of one would-be orator. He passed the brown derby and collected. I was as good ashe, I believed. Onehour later, I wason the stand. I spoke for an hour. A great crowd gathered. After I had spoken for a while I passed the "gin house" Stetson and it came back with $3.85. I knew right then and there that I was going to like Chicago. More than that, I made up my mind to study the city, seeit, know it, master it, and become a part of it. The next day I worked in the Stock Yards at forty; cents an hour—$3.20 a day—pay every night. 82 S An Unfortunate Marriage 85 How peculiar is the human being. Two years before $3.20 a day was wage slavery—drudgery—a mere existence . To-day, after the chain-gang experience, $3.20 a day was all that any man could want. It meant a clean bed, clean clothes, soap and towels, clean teeth, recreation, movies, books, libraries, lectures, walks through beautiful parks, museums, and the exhilaration of a great, growing, bustling city roaring all around, interesting and congenial people, things to seeand do. In short, Life! I learned that $3.20 a day buys every comfort and necessity and many luxuries. A year went by. I had changed jobs numerous times. North side, West side, South side; I had seen the city. I had learned to love it! its freedom from age-old tradition, its startling newness, its bustle, its growth, its perpetually varied forms of amusement, education, and recreation. A Mecca for all! A million and a quarter visitors a week, its three million population extending its arms to all comers* By some strange unknown power, I was filled with a desire to live in the Jackson Park area. I was now going to settle down, save money, and go into business. And now, here comes destiny again! What part did Fate have in causing me to turn into Ingleside Avenue, looking for a room? And why did I stop at 6444 Ingleside Avenue ^rhere a small sign read, "ROOMS TOLET"? I rang the bell. An old lady answered it. She couldn't ispeak English very well. She called someone; another woman came. I looked at a room, took it, and moved in. And this other woman, once my friend, was later to be fired with an insane hatred and a desire to cut me to ribbons , to tear down and destroy with tigerish ferocity, not 84 I Am A Fugitive only me, but all that I wasto build up in the ensuing years. She it was who, in an instant, was to sweep away my reputation, business, wealth, love, romance, and happiness. But that is life, I guess. To know happiness, sorrow must also be felt. To enjoy wealth, one must first feel the pangs of poverty. Love is not appreciated until the lover is gone. This woman who showed me my room that day brought^ tragedy into my life, tragedy that neither time nor courage will ever erase. Is she happy now? I doubt it. One week after moving in, I was on very familiar terms with Mrs. Emilia Del Pino Pacheo. She was a short, stout, dark-haired divorcee, of about forty years of age. She was married, so I learned, at the early age of eighteen, to a cigar maker, a Joe Pacheo. This proved an unhappy marriage, and she was divorced a few years later. She, her sisters, and an aged mother had just...