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Back Come Again No More Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover
  3. Title Page
  4. Contents
  5. PART I 
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. PART II 
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. PART III 
  38. 31.
  39. 32.
  40. 33.
  41. 34.
  42. 35.
  43. 36.
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. PART IV 
  48. 40.
  49. 41.
  50. 42.
  51. 43.
  52. 44.
  53. 45.
  54. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  55. Touchstone Reading Group Guide

There were twenty other families with their vehicles parked in the campground that night, all of them refugees on the road like themselves. The men were union men and around the fire that night, they sang songs about Joe Hill and the other martyrs of the union movement, too many of whom had been sent to early graves. Every car and truck was piled high like theirs, with everything from live chickens to pianos and organs. The migrants all had the same hope, that things would be better in Washington or Oregon or California. They were chasing rumors that the shipyards were hiring or there was work picking apples in Oregon or hops in Washington. Most had children, some as young as a few weeks old. The kids were ragged but not dirty. Their mothers worked hard to keep them clean, even on the road. Some families also had weary-looking grandparents along, holding in their aches and pains and trying not to be a nuisance. They were better off than many of those who had been streaming west since the beginning of the 1930s, because these people could afford the two bits for the campground rather than squatting somewhere along the road without even the comforts of running water and a toilet. They had a good time singing around the fire that night, shared food back and forth and swapped stories, but to Emaline it all seemed very subdued. People had been down so long, they didn’t know how to get up again.

It took them three more days to wind their way along as far as Riverton, the first town of any size they had passed since Casper. They made it to Dubois early the next afternoon and decided to take it easy and make the crossing over the Great Divide through Togwotee Pass in the Absaroka Mountains early the next morning. They found a campground two miles out of Dubois and paid another fifty cents for a place to spend the night. It was pretty country, with more timber than they had seen anywhere else. Emaline wondered if it would be like this all the way to Oregon, more and more forest until finally you were in the great north woods, where they claimed you couldn’t see the sky because of the canopy of trees.

35.