KinSource - Tale of the Week - Hungry And No Work

KinSource

Minnesota Tales

The Duluth Evening Herald, January 2, 1894

HUNGRY AND NO WORK

Fifty Men Called at The Herald Office Today and Told a Sad Story of Hardship.

They Sleep at the "Friendly Inn" and Must Depend on Charity For What They Eat.

All Claim That They Want Work But Positively Cannot Find Employment of Any Kind.

This has not been a merry Christmas and a happy New Year for some people in Duluth. There are those in humble homes, and those on the streets because they have no homes, who are crying for bread. They have no money, no friends, no abiding place. Cold and hunger are their unwelcome companions. They have willing hearts and strong arms, but not a day's work can be secured. They are, against their choice, placed in the position of alms seekers and vagrants, and most keenly do they feel their positions.

This morning John McDonough, accompanied by nearly half a hundred others called at The Herald editorial rooms. "We come up," said he, "to see if you can tell us what to do. I have lived four years in Duluth,and at present have my home with a wife and two children 313 East Fifth street. I don't want to go to jail nor I don't want to become a crank, nor do I want to go to St. Peter. It has been three and one-half months since I have had any work. When the brass foundry at West Duluth closed down I went to the wheat fields in Dakota. When the harvest closed I came home but I cannot get enough to support my family. Early in my trouble I mortgaged my furniture and now I am in worse shape that ever. If a fellow cannot get work I see no way for him to live unless he has help.

"It is true that Mr. Clark will give orders not to exceed $5. Some get $3. That helps and is appreciated but how long will such a sum keep a family. The county has a limit to what it will do.

"I want right here to speak a word for myself and the rest of the boys in behalf of Messrs. Fitger and Anneke for the generous manner in which they have given out Bethel meal tickets. There has been no limit with them. All who came were helped. If there was a family of ten all got tickets and three times a day, too. But last Saturday these kind gentlemen placed a restriction upon their issue of tickets, so that source of aid is no longer open.

"Some time ago a friend loaned me 30 cents to buy some nails. Yesterday I secured that amount and was going to pay it back when, on my way to the Bethel, I met six of the boys who had not eaten for a couple of days. I gave them the 30 cents and then borrowed 25 cents more to buy food for my own family. Last evening, with a single dollar which had been handed me to put where it would do the most good, I fed thirteen of the boys at the Bethel. They can get a meal there for 9 cents.

"I have charge of the sleeping quarters lately opened up in the basement of the Christian church. Fifty-three bunks have been put in and more will be as necessity requires. Those bunks were all filled last night and all these boys here with me helped fill them. Many of those out of work and money have lived here for years and don't like to make their distress known to the public but they have to come to it."

The crowd with Mr. McDonough was composed chiefly of single men. Nearly all had good faces and seemed to be representative workingmen. Some had lived in Duluth for years, while others have been here for only a few days. Most of the latter class come here to go into the woods, fail to find a chance and soon are "dead broke" among strangers. All ages, sizes, trades and nationalities were included, but laborers predominated. Several told their stories. Albert Grey said:

"I am from the Dakota wheat fields but my old home is in Chicago. I got twenty days work at harvesting in South Dakota and then went to North Dakota where I worked six weeks more. Then work stopped. I came here about six weeks ago expecting to get work in the woods. The fact that I am here in this shape shows that I failed to get such a job."

John Johnston related the following: "I have lived in Duluth for two years. I was out in one of Mitchell & McClure's camps as sawyer. I worked seventeen days at the rate of $14 per month. There were about 100 men in that camp and when the snow got too deep six gangs of sawyers were laid off. I had $9.02 coming. That's all gone and no more work can be found."

Mike Breikel, a large, intelligent, honest faced man, related his experiences: "I was a silver miner in Montana," he said. "I was one of the 20,000 men thrown out of work by the shutting down of the mines in that state. I stayed around two months, hoping things would resume, but was disappointed in that. I then decided to make a break for the woods. I came here six weeks ago with $18 cash but could find no work. A few days ago I heard that work could be found in the iron mines on the range. It took my last cent to buy a ticket sixty miles out from here. When I got there not a single man was needed. I then walked back, having nothing to eat during the whole tramp of sixty miles. I was staggering and just ready to drop when I found Mr. McDonough last night. I was one of the thirteen who got suppers out of that $1 he told about. I am a miner but am willing to do anything I can find."

J. B. Johnson, a broad shouldered, strong limbed fellow stepped up as the boys were leaving and said: "I have been here three years. I was working a short time ago for Scott & Holston about fifteen miles north of the city. Last Friday several of us were laid off - had more men than they needed - and I came into the city. I got $13 a month and board. While in camp I bought some new clothing and my time check called for only $2. That was last Friday. I slept at 'Friendly Inn,' as the boys call the basement of the Christian church, last night, and here I am, out of cash and unable to find a thing to do."

Mr. McDonough said that he could bring up 200 men who are out of money, work and food. He said that some are members of the Y. M. C. A., others are bricklayers, woodsmen, common laborers, mechanics, in fact, almost any trade or class conceivable.

"I don't know what to do," said the spokesman of the crowd as it passed down the stairs, "but we cannot starve, and if we cannot get work it seems as if some means of help must be found. For one thing, the city or county might start a woodyard. Suppose a tract of timber was secured and cordwood cut. That would be saleable in time and all the city or county would have to do would be to advance the wages and get back the money when the product was sold. If anyone, however, can solve this question of bread and butter, I wish he would do so as soon as possible."