Walking the railroad tracks was a favorite pastime for us kids.
Great treasures were found along the tracks...big sticks, cans which were good for both kicking and throwing at each other, scary looking dolls with most of their hair missing, the list goes on. Many times while enjoying these afternoon walks along the 21st Street tracks we would run across hobos. Yes, we called them hobos in those days, not bums, not transients...Hobos. One hobo who I swear I saw off and on throughout the 60s and 70s was Hobo Slim. Now Hobo Slim wasn't slim. He was what you would call "swarthy looking", kinda grimy, always half drunk or fall down drunk and always asking us kids or anyone
for a dime. He really scared the crap out of us too and if we had a dime, penny, nickle whatever, we gave it to him.
Walking the tracks began to get a little sketchy as more unfamiliar hobos made there way there. Us kids decided that the alley was good enough and strange enough.
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