The following is the start of 'The Living Spirit Of The Wobblies', by Len De 
Caux, International Publishers, 1978, ISBN 0-7178-0431-3.  

"The Wobblies are coming!  The Wobblies are coming!"

Down the long train, from boxcar to boxcar, the whispered word was passed.  
Our freight had stopped far out on the flat prairie.  We had been stretching 
our legs, sunning ourselves, chatting, visiting from car to car.  Now all 
seemed to disappear.  In the silence, we could hear the engine watering up, 
the wind rustling to the wheatfields.

A teenage boy came back on the run to my car, to bring the word.  Then he was 
gone.  We were debating the news in low voices, when we heard the gravel crunch.

A tall man came first.  Slim, hatless, with skinn tanned tough, he was like any 
other hobo in his overalls and blue workshirt.  But his stride was more purposeful.  
A dozen more men of the road followed close behind.

He stopped at our open door.  "Hi, fellers, headin' for the harvest, huh?" Then 
he became offical.

"I'm an IWW delegate.  I got credentials."  He patted a pocket.  "You guys gotta
know that you can't ride the freights to the harvest without you join the IWW.
IWW is for Industrial Workers of the World, case you don't know it.  They call us
Wobblies.  You sure heard of the Wobblies ain't you?".  We nodded.

"Our Red Card don't cost no more than a buck.  It's good for a year.  You can
ride on it anywhere."

The delegate told us that the Wobblies weren't working for less than six bucks
a day in the North Dakota harvest.  (On the way we'd heard of farm wages as low
as $3 or $4).  If we had to strike against slave wages or lousy grub, there'd be
no scabs, said he - not when every guy coming in on the frieghts was carrying a 
Red Card.

We saw the point.  The trouble for us, and for the IWW, was that we hadn't a buck,
or even 2 bits.  Few harvest-bound hobos had.  At the moment I had a dime in my sock,
and a couple of nickels I kept feeling in my pocket.  My partners swore that they
hadn't a red cent.

Would they put us off the freight?  The delegate turned to the other Wobblies and
they debated in undertones.  They'd let us ride, they decided, if we'd join as
soon as we got a job.  We promised.

The delegate told us we couldnt' "buck the system" without organising.  He left
us a copy of the IWW paper, 'Industrial Solidarity'.  His face was grim as he 
moved on to the next car.
 
ian



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