Between 1854 and 1929, up to a quarter of a million children from New York City and other Eastern cities were sent by train to towns in the Midwestern and Western states.
The orphan trains as they were later known served to remove children from slu...
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This was his third time doing this journey. Well, not exactly this train journey for the first one was headed towards San Francisco while this one was going up North, towards Portland, but the purpose of the journey was the same. They had told him right from the start that it would be unlikely to find them a home that would keep all three of them and they were right, although twice his baby brother's bright smile and golden curls did entice a couple to at least open their home and heart to them.
They'd travelled from town to town, where they were put up on a stage for inspection by the prospective couples to take them home onto their farms, some genuinely wanting a child to love, others just needing another pair of hands in the fields and most wanted a bit of both. Only the rich didn't expect their children to contribute from an early age.
They were asked to stand in line to be picked out. Two little blond boys clutching his legs either side, wishing for nothing else but another chance, for someone to take all three of them together. They always noticed the little one first. His golden curls so white it made one think of sunshine on a clear summer's day and that was even before you looked into his sparkling blue eyes and beautiful smile. They would offer them sweets and were delighted with the smiles this would elicit. They rarely offered him a sweet, but the women folk often noticed him all the same. "Such a sweet boy. How he looks after his little brothers," they'd say to their husbands who scowled at him. The men saw something else in his eyes. The women were blind to his fearful eyes who saw them as a threat and wanted to clutch onto his little brothers just as much as they did to him. Most of the time they were passed over though. Three extra mouths to feed, but only one able to work, were a lot. So at the end of the day, they would have to climb back into the train with all the other rejects, each time feeling a little more dejected and less confident than before, heading for the next town that had agreed to stage such a cruel event.
Both times he messed it up for them. It wasn't the work. Being eleven years old, he was expected to work in whatever business the family would have, and he didn't mind. Most of the families were farmers. He had known this before they had boarded the train, and in a way, he had been looking forward to it even though he had never even seen a cow. He wanted to be able to earn his keep for himself and his two brothers.
He was grateful that his brothers being so much younger than him were not really expected to labour. He was pleased to see their cheeks becoming rosy and plump from the good food and fresh air. What he hated though was how the farmer and his wife each time managed to turn him into a stranger. They kept him away from his brothers and took over. He was sent to school in the morning and was working all afternoon. By the time he came in for his dinner with the other farm hands, his brothers were already bathed and ready for bed. In the morning he had to get up to do chores well before breakfast and by the time he came back in his siblings were dressed again and already fed. When he wanted to play with them, he was told to go back to work and given more chores. He told his brothers "No" and was reprimanded for it. It no longer was his place to set and enforce boundaries, he was told. He no longer needed to be their parent, they said. When he protested when they corrected the little boys for things, he would never chastise them for, he was told he'd undermine their authority and was instructed to step back. They no longer were his responsibility. He was scolded for getting up to comfort them and sent back to bed when he heard them cry during the night. He missed their little bodies beside him at night and was sure they missed him too. He no longer could fall asleep after his nightmare, for the nightmare was always the same and he didn't have the reassurance that it was only a dream and that they were still alive.
The first time he told them to shove their home up their fat arses, after he had yet another blow up and a painful whipping from the father of the house. They were collected within days. His brothers were heart broken. They sobbed for their new mama and papa for days. Back in the orphanage his brothers got used to him again, but it took a long time to get his baby brother to do his magic with his smile.
The second time the husband brought him back to the same theatre hall where they had selected them in the first place. They must have heard of another trainload of orphans coming through their town and took the opportunity to get rid of him. There had been no warning, no time to say goodbye. He was told he was to accompany the husband on an errand into town and there he was unceremoniously handed over to Mr McManus, the same agent who had warned him not to ruin it for them again. If it happened again, he had said, they would have to put them on separate trains the next time. His brothers would have a much better chance without him, and so would he. The orphanage couldn't hold on to them forever. Homes had to be found as new children came in all the time.
It was the way it was in those days. There was a never-ending influx of immigrants and an uncertain economy that brought poverty and homelessness to too many of them. He'd been living on the streets for weeks with his brothers, before the orphanage folks picked them up with the promise to find them a good home out west. The baby, who at three years old hated being called the baby was sick at the time and might not have survived. He was glad of their help. He had started to worry about the winter that was fast approaching. The only option the almhouse which really wasn't an option at all.
He hated their time in the orphanage all the same. So many rules. So much to do wrong. So much to be wrong about. He would have been okay on the streets alone but his brothers made it so much more difficult, almost impossible. Throughout his childhood he had spent time on the streets by himself or not by himself at all, because there were many like him. Every time his mother's new suitors, and his potential stepfathers got sick of him lurking about, he ran off for a few days at the time until things would die down again at home, or until they left. None of them really ever had any intention to sign up for that role long term. They were just destitute and in need of a roof over their head and a table to put their feet under like he was now. It was easier to make ends meet that way, having a man around to contribute a little, but it never worked out. The worry about his baby brothers were what always brought him back home. Until one day, a fire broke out in the house where they had rented a room that made them homeless. Shortly after that their mother disappeared just like his father had done all those years before. There were others just like him, older kids, younger as well and adults, surviving on the streets. Some were helpful and prepared to take you under their wing, others did the opposite and would steal your last penny. There was no way back. Even if he had had someone to look after the little ones while he went off shining shoes, selling newspapers, and doing whatever he could to get money and food, he had no chance to get someone to rent out a room to him. In that instance alone he was only a child. All he could do was do his best for them to survive, from one meal to the next, one day at the time.
But this time he was standing alone on that stage.
The farmer had left him in the hands of Mr Mc Manus who tried his best to console him as the farmer walked away. He wasn't unkind but when it didn't work, he got his helpers to manhandle him back onto the train. By the time they got to the next station Mc Manus had managed to convince him. The only option for him at this stage was to find his own family. He knew he was right. He had to accept the fact that his brothers were better off without him and he without them. Without his little brothers he still had an okay chance, McManus tried to tell him. He wasn't that close to adulthood yet. The farmers didn't like the older boys because they had a reputation for being difficult and once they were of age they would have to be paid for the work they did if they wanted them to stay on. He looked small for his age and would pass as manageable. The two placements on the farm had done him good all the same. He looked strong and healthy. He could vouch for him, that he was not at all averse to hard work, McManus reminded him. Farmers liked that in a boy.
So John let them prod him, opened his mouth so they could gawk into his mouth and inspect his teeth. Let them squeeze his biceps for strength. It was either that or back to the streets of New York, because God knows he wouldn't last a day in the orphanage without his brothers.
