oneighty
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Sun Nov-27-05 10:45 AM
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Part one being happenings on and near the New York Central Rail Road Tracks: A prelude of things to come.
A thousand people line the tracks Back to nose and nose to back All come to see The old steam train From way back when It took our boys And made them men The very same train Then brought them back Some on foot Some in sacks.
Excerpts from the book I might never write.
The first story I might put in the book I might never write.
The Man That Could Not Shave.
He is a black man. I say that because it is true. He came up from Florida with the Byrd Company buying and processing green tomatoes grown by the local farmers. The black man works for the Byrd people. So do I.
We work in an old abandoned railroad terminal located next to the New York Central tracks. The building constructed of wood is very long and narrow.
The black man is living in a small room that was once an office. His bed is a discarded ragged and dirty mattress laying on the bare floor.
The black mans face is terribly scarred from the pox he once suffered. There are mountains and valleys of tormented flesh on his face. The tormented flesh is covered with a thick growth of graying whiskers. I watch him one day apply a white cream to his face; the cream like an acid melts the whiskers away. The process must hurt because there are tears in his eyes; or perhaps the tears are there for another reason. If I were he I think I would cry a lot.
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fight4my3sons
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Sun Nov-27-05 07:28 PM
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oneighty
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Sun Nov-27-05 08:29 PM
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Wed May 08th 2024, 03:41 PM
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