The Workers: An Experiment in Reality. The WestWyckoff, Walter A. (Walter Augustus)
History
The Workers: An Experiment in Reality. The West
Wyckoff, Walter A. (Walter Augustus)
Unemployed -- United States; Working class -- United States
The bread and coffee and clean air had revived us both. I dreaded
a swift relapse, and so I urged a wash, in the hope of its bracing
effect. But where could we achieve this simple need? Certainly not in
the wash-room of the station, for we had trespassed dangerously far in
drinking at the fountain, and the eye of more than one employee was
already upon us. There was no hotel into whose public lavatory we could
pass unchallenged, and not so much upon Clark’s account as upon mine.
There remained the open lake; so we walked up Van Buren Street and
across the Lake Park and the railway tracks to the edge of the outer
harbor. Here we knelt among the broken fragments of ice and bathed our
faces and hands. It was vigorous exercise to rub them dry before they
chapped in the winter wind. It warmed us, and the feeling of relative
cleanness was enheartening. And then I sat down and dipped up water in
one hand and applied it, until I had a cold saturated cushion against
the bruise on my leg. This wrought wonderful relief until the wet cloth
froze, and then it chafed the bruise badly for a time.
But I could walk alone and fairly well now. We turned up Michigan
Avenue and followed it to the river, discussing, as we went, a plan of
action. Clark was for going at once to the far North Side in search
of employment at various iron-works and foundries there, of whose
existence he had learned. I longed for the means of early relief from
the reviving pangs of hunger through some chance job which I hoped that
we might obtain. This was a new idea to Clark. He was a raw recruit
in the army of the unemployed. That he might look for other work than
that which was in the line of his trade had not yet presented itself to
him as a possibility. He shrank from it with the instinctive dislike
of a conservative for a new way. And all our early essays confirmed
him in his aversion. We went from door to door of the great wholesale
business houses at the head of Michigan Avenue. Large delivery trucks
stood lined up along the curb on both sides, and there was the bustle
across the pavement of much loading and unloading of wares. Workmen
in leather aprons were handling packed boxes with the swiftness and
dexterity of long practice. At half a score of houses we sought out an
overseer or a superintendent and asked to be set to work; but, without
a moment’s hesitation in a single case, we were told, with varying
degrees of emphasis, that we were not needed, not even for some chance,
exceptional demand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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